Her Possessive Bikers

30. Indy

30

INDY

H is lips crash against mine with a force that leaves me breathless. I’m furious, but my body betrays me. Every fiber of my being responds to his demanding kiss, and I can’t think straight. Tres grips my waist, pulling me closer, and I lose myself in the roughness of his touch.

"You think you can just run off?" he growls against my lips. "You need someone to keep you in line."

I shove him back just enough to catch my breath, eyes blazing. "Keep me in line? I’m not some animal who can be tamed, Tres. I can handle myself."

He chuckles, a low, dangerous sound. "Is that right? 'Cause it sure looks like you need a lesson in following orders."

His words send a shiver down my spine, but I refuse to back down. "Maybe you’re the one who needs a lesson," I say, my voice dripping with defiance.

Tres narrows his eyes and leans in close, his breath hot on my ear. "Is that a challenge?"

I smirk, lifting my chin defiantly. "Take it however you want."

Without warning, he spins me around and presses me against the kitchen counter. The cool surface digs into my thighs as his hands roam over my body, claiming every inch with possessive fervor.

"You've got a smart mouth on you," he murmurs, sliding his hand down to grip my ass firmly.

I arch back into him, meeting his touch with equal fervor. "Maybe you just can't handle it."

He responds by smacking my ass hard enough to sting. "Trust me baby girl, I can handle anything," he says darkly.

A gasp escapes me, half surprise, half pleasure. My anger simmers beneath the surface but it's mixed with something more primal. I push back against him again, giving as good as I get.

"You’re gonna have to do better than that," I taunt.

Tres growls low in his throat and tightens his grip on my hips. He presses closer, his hardness unmistakable against me. His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he speaks.

"You've got no idea what you're asking for."

My pulse quickens at his words, and I tilt my head back to meet his gaze over my shoulder. "What? Afraid you can't keep up old man?"

Tres spins me back around to face him, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends a thrill straight to my core. He leans in, his breath hot against my skin. "You don't know what you just got yourself into, little girl."

I swallow hard, my defiance faltering under the weight of his gaze. "Maybe I do," I manage to say, though my voice wavers.

His lips curl into a wicked smile. "Take your fucking clothes off. Now, Indiana."

My heart races, a mixture of defiance and arousal making my skin tingle. I want to be a brat so bad, to push his buttons and see how far he'll go. But damn, I’m so turned on I can barely think straight. I start peeling off my clothes, slow and steady, watching the way his eyes darken with every inch of exposed skin.

First, my shirt drops to the floor, followed by my jeans. I'm left standing in nothing but a white lace bra and panties. Tres's gaze roams over me hungrily.

"So innocent," he murmurs, stepping closer until I can feel the heat radiating off him. "But I'm about to fucking ruin you for everyone."

Before I can respond, he reaches out and rips my bra away with one swift motion. The sound of tearing fabric mingles with my gasp of surprise.

"Hey!" I protest weakly.

He silences me by capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard while his other hand kneads my breast roughly. A moan escapes me before I can stop it, and he chuckles against my skin.

"That's right," he murmurs between sucks and licks. "You're mine now."

His hands roam lower, fingers digging into the waistband of my panties as he presses his hips against mine. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through me, making it hard to stay upright.

"Tres," I whisper breathlessly.

"Say it again," he demands, moving to the other breast and giving it the same attention.

"Tres," I moan louder this time, arching into him.

He bites down lightly on my nipple, drawing another gasp from me before lifting his head to meet my eyes. "Good girl."

His words send a thrill through me as he finally tears away my panties, leaving me completely exposed to him. His hands grip my hips firmly as he pulls me closer until there's no space left between us.

"Now let's see just how much you can handle," he growls before claiming my mouth with a fierce kiss that leaves no room for doubt about who's in control.

My body responds eagerly to every touch, every command. All thoughts of defiance vanish under the onslaught of sensation as Tres takes what he wants with ruthless precision.

And damn if I don’t love every second of it.

Tres's eyes lock onto mine, a fire burning in them that sends a jolt straight through me. Without breaking our gaze, he swipes his arm across the kitchen counter, knocking off everything in a crash of broken glass and clattering utensils. He lifts me up and sits me on the now-cleared surface, his grip firm on my hips.

"Keep your fucking eyes on me," he growls, his voice low and commanding.

I can’t look away even if I wanted to. His presence is magnetic, overpowering. He pulls his shirt over his head and my breath catches at the sight of him. Tattoos cover his chest, intertwining with patches of grey hair that give him an almost primal appearance. His muscles ripple with every movement, each one defined and perfect.

As he undoes his jeans, my eyes widen at the sight of the massive bulge straining against his boxers. His hand slides down to stroke himself through the fabric and I bite my lip, unable to tear my gaze away.

"Like what you see?" he taunts, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. "You know I do."

He shoves his jeans down and lets them pool around his ankles before kicking them off. With deliberate slowness, he lowers his boxers, revealing himself fully. My breath hitches at the sheer size of him as he begins to stroke his length, never breaking eye contact.

My hands falls between my legs. Desperate for some contact.

"No ma'am," he says firmly. "You're gonna listen to me."

I shiver at the authority in his voice, my need building with every second that passes. "What do you want from me?" I ask breathlessly.

His eyes darken further as he steps closer, positioning himself between my legs. "I want you to be a good girl and do exactly what I say."

I swallow hard but nod again. "Yes... yes sir."

He smirks at my compliance and leans in close enough for our lips to almost touch. "Good girl," he whispers before claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about who's in control.

My body responds eagerly to every touch as he continues stroking himself with one hand while the other roams over my skin possessively. The tension builds between us until it feels like we're both going to explode from the sheer intensity of it all.

"You're mine," Tres murmurs against my lips before pulling back slightly to look into my eyes again. "Say it."

"I'm yours," I whisper back without hesitation.

His grip tightens on my hip as he lines himself up against me, teasing me with just the tip. "That's right," he growls softly before thrusting forward and filling me completely in one swift motion.

A gasp escapes me at the sensation but Tres doesn't give me time to adjust before setting a relentless pace that leaves me clinging onto him for dear life.

"Keep those eyes on me," he commands again through gritted teeth as pleasure washes over both of us in waves so intense they threaten to drown us both completely.

Tres sets a punishing pace, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. I don't know how much longer I can last. Just as the tension coils tight, threatening to snap, he pulls out abruptly. I gasp at the sudden emptiness and frustration.

He pulls me down from the counter and spins me around so I'm not pressed against it and my ass is sticking out. "Not yet, baby," he says, smacking my ass hard enough to sting. "I'm not one to make it that easy."

"You're killing me," I groan, but there's a thrill in his dominance that has my skin tingling.

He doesn't respond, just lines himself up and thrusts into me again, his movements unrelenting. My tits press against the cold counter, the sensation heightening every nerve ending. I grab hold of his massive thigh for leverage, nails digging in as he pounds into me.

"Tres," I gasp, "I can't... I can't hold on."

"You're gonna have to," he growls into my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

But it's too much; my body betrays me. The pleasure builds to a peak and I come with a cry, shuddering around him. "Tres! Fucking come in me," I beg breathlessly. "Claim me."

He pulls out suddenly and spills on the floor instead. My eyes widen in shock and disappointment.

"Girls that don't listen don't get their way," he says with a smirk, wiping himself off with a nearby dish towel.

I collapse against the counter, panting and trying to catch my breath. "You're such an asshole," I mutter, but there's no real venom in my words.

"You love it," he retorts, leaning down to kiss the back of my neck softly.

I can't help but laugh, even though I'm still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. "Maybe," I admit grudgingly.

He chuckles and steps back, giving me space to stand up and straighten myself out. As I do, I catch sight of our reflections in the kitchen window—me flushed and disheveled, him looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Next time," I say pointedly as I turn to face him fully, "you won't get off so easy."

His eyes darken with promise. "I'll hold you to that."

We both stand there, catching our breath, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air. I look down at my clothes scattered across the floor and start picking them up. Tres watches me with a smirk, clearly satisfied with himself. I shoot him a glare as I trash my now ruined undies and bra.

"Enjoying the show?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckles. "Always."

I roll my eyes but can't help the smile tugging at my lips. I slip into my jeans and band tee, feeling his gaze on me the entire time. He doesn't even bother to hide it.

As I bend down to grab my shoes, Tres's hand comes down on my ass with a sharp smack. "Ow!" I yelp, standing up straight and rubbing the spot. "What the hell was that for?"

"For thinking you could just run off without telling anyone," he says, his tone stern but his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Next time, you listen."

I huff and cross my arms over my chest. "I can take care of myself, you know."

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space between us. "I'm sure you can," he says softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "But that's not the point. You need to let us protect you."

"I don't need protecting," I mutter stubbornly.

His fingers grip my chin gently but firmly, tilting my head up so I'm forced to meet his gaze. "Yes, you do," he says quietly. "Whether you like it or not."

I open my mouth to argue but he cuts me off with a kiss—gentle this time, almost tender. It leaves me speechless and more than a little confused.

When he pulls back, he gives me a look that says he's not done talking about this but is willing to let it go for now. "Let's get back to the house," he says.

I sigh but nod in agreement. "Fine."

We head out of the house together, Tres keeping a protective hand on the small of my back as he walks me to the car. The air outside is cooler now, a welcome relief after the intensity inside.

I glance over at him. "You really think I'm gonna let this go?"

He grins. "I'd be disappointed if you did."

I open the car door and get in the drivers seat, "Just so we're clear—I still think you're an overbearing asshole."

He laughs as he starts walking in the direction of his bike. "And yet here you are," he calls over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I shout back, throwing my arm out the open window of the chevelle "Here I am."