Page 7 of Her Obsessed Biker (Savage Kings MC #8)

Piper

Sunlight filters through the blinds, across the unfamiliar room. It takes a moment to remember where I am…who I’m with. There’s a warm weight behind me, an arm draped heavy over my waist, the scent of leather and cedar still clinging to the sheets.

Rock.

Last night hits me all at once—the kisses, the things he whispered in my ear, the way he touched me like I was breakable and addictive all at once.

My cheeks flush just thinking about it.

“You blush pretty in the mornings, kitty.”

The voice makes me jolt. I twist under the sheets, wide-eyed.

He’s awake. And watching me.

Intensely.

His head is propped on one arm, dark hair tousled, a slow, sinful smirk playing on that mouth I should not be staring at. His eyes rake over my face like I’m his favorite dish. And God knows I felt like it last night.

“Kitty?” I manage, pulling the covers higher.

He shrugs, eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. “Yeah. You’re small, brave, fierce…and real fuckin’ cute when you try to act tough.”

My mouth drops open slightly, and I gape at him, half-flattered, half-flustered.

Rock just stares, and I feel it again…that flipping sensation in my stomach, like I’ve been yanked too close to the sun.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask softly.

His gaze sharpens. “Like what?”

“Like you’re about to do something reckless.”

He leans in, closing the distance, his voice low and rough. “Kitty…if you knew the things I want to do to you, you’d be running for the door.”

I don’t want to run from him. And that’s scary and exciting all at once.

“Try me,” I whisper.

Something in him changes. The teasing glint in his eyes darkens, and his jaw tightens just enough for me to notice. He reaches out and pulls me closer, close enough for me to feel his erection hot and heavy against my folds.

His hand cups my ass, lifting me into a deft roll of his hips. I gasp as the pleasure radiates through me, my nipples beading hard and tight against his chest. My core starts to throb, begging to be filled with his length.

I rake my nails down his back to his hips. He arches into the rough caress with a low growl, his head thrown back in deliciously erotic abandon.

“Again,” he orders gruffly.

I do it again. Rock hisses, his body quivering in response.

Oh, he must like that.

He raises himself on one arm, then squeezes my breast in his other hand, lowering his lips to one aching nipple.

I let out a soft moan that quickly turns into a cry when his teeth close around my nipple in a gentle nibble.

Pleasure rocks my body like lightning. I clutch at his hair, wrapping my legs around him, desperate to have him even closer.

“Rock,” I moan, throwing my arms around his neck.

“I’ve got you, kitty,” he breathes, nibbling across my cleavage to my other breast. His diabolical fingers tug at the wet nipple he left behind, pinching it gently until I push up and into his hand. “Impatient,” he murmurs, chuckling lightly.

He slides back onto his knees and rises, his thighs spread between mine, his cock thick and hard and bobbing under its weight.

Everything in me tightens with ravenous greed.

His huge body looks like it’s carved from rock-hard slabs of defined muscle, his inked skin sheened with perspiration.

I let my eyes glide down to his cock, barely resisting the urge to lick my lips.

He would make a statue as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David , but with a much more flagrantly erotic edge.

“You’re so…gorgeous,” I murmur, unable to resist brushing my hand over him, up his thigh, over the V between his thighs and abdomen.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls, taking my mouth in a rough, lust-fueled kiss.

Lifting me, he turns us so his back is to the headboard and I’m spread over him.

Our flesh slides against each other, slickened by sweat.

His hands are everywhere, his muscled body straining upward.

I cup his face, licking fast into his mouth, trying to satisfy my thirst for him.

He reaches between my legs, delving reverently into my slit, striking the roughened pads of his fingers over my clit. I let out a throaty moan, my hips circling. He fingers me leisurely, building my need, his kiss gentling into a slow, deep fucking of my mouth.

I grind my teeth against the pleasure coursing through my veins, my entire body quivering as he cups me in his hand.

He slides his long middle finger lazily into me, rubbing his palm against my clit while his fingertip strokes over the delicate tissues inside me.

His other hand grips my hip, holding me in place, restraining me.

Rock’s control seems absolute, his seduction wickedly precise.

Pulling back, I sit up and reach for his cock, with both hands this time, and I slowly stroke him from root to the tip.

I repeat the movement, and just when I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing it right, Rock pushes back against the headboard with a deep groan, his finger curving inside me.

I watch, riveted, as a thick drop of precum rolls to one side of his glans, then slides down the length of him to pool at the top of my fist.

“Fuck, kitty,” he growls. “You’re killing me.”

I stroke him again, wildly aroused by his pleasure and the knowledge that I have such a profound effect on him.

He lets out a soft curse, his fingers leaving me. Then he grabs my hips, dislodging my grip on him, and yanks me forward. His hips buck upward, his raging cock driving into me.

I cry out, clutching at his shoulders for dear life, my walls clenching sporadically around his length.

“ Piper …”

My name is a breathless prayer on his lips.

He throws his head back, his jaw and neck taut with strain as he submits to the waves of a powerful orgasm.

His seed spurts into me, hot and hard, until I’m filled to the brim.

“Take it,” he groans, driving up into me with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. “Take me.”

My nails dig into his unyielding muscles, my mouth opened to draw in desperate breaths of air, and I moan, welcoming the soreness of having him so deep. Suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. My body stiffens, my back bowing as heated pleasure tears through me.

Through my orgasm, instinct takes over, my hips moving of their own volition, my thighs clenching and releasing as I focus only on the moment, the man who’s upturned my world in only a few hours.

“That’s it, kitty,” he encourages hoarsely, his erection still hard inside me as if he didn’t just have a teeth-grinding climax.

His thrusts are slower now, but more intense, his hands fisted in the comforter. His biceps clench and flex with his movements, his abs tightening every time I take him to the hilt, his muscles glistening with sweat.

He let go of control, giving himself up to me. And that, to me, is sexy as hell.

I moan his name, my core clenching rhythmically. I can feel yet another orgasm rushing up at me. Too quickly. I falter, my senses overwhelmed.

“Please,” I gasp. “Rock, please.”

He catches me by the nape and waist, then flips us over so I’m flat on my back.

Pinning me tightly, he holds me immobile, thrusting into me over and over…

claiming me with fast, powerful thrusts.

The friction of his thick cock rubbing and surging within me is too much.

I jolt violently and come again, my walls clenching around him and my fingers clawing into his skin.

Shuddering, Rock follows me over. He buries his face in my neck, his arms tightening until I can barely breathe.

It takes a while before the world finally comes to focus again.

Rock kisses me gently on the forehead, a stark contrast to the way he just unraveled me seconds ago.

My chest still heaves, heart thudding in time with the aftershocks of pleasure rolling through me.

I’m limp, floating, but grounded by the weight of his arms still wrapped around me.

“You want coffee, kitty?” he murmurs against my temple.

I manage a small smile. “Yeah. I’d love some.”

Without another word, he lifts me in his arms, wrapping the sheets around me, and carries me out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He sets me gently on the cool marble counter, and I watch as he moves around the kitchen. Naked. In all his beautiful glory.

It’s hard to concentrate with his gorgeous body on display.

His back muscles shift with every movement.

The black ink covering his arms and ribs is stark against his tan skin—coiled serpents, knives, words in Latin I can’t read.

Danger and strength is etched into every inch of him.

His body is brutal and hard, but I’ve felt the tenderness in his touch.

I’ve seen and tasted part of him he doesn’t show anyone.

Rock is different from any man I know. Tough, yet tender. He makes me feel safe. Protected.

Unlike the man I used to think was my father…

My stomach knots with apprehension at the thought of him, fingers curling around the edge of the counter. I shouldn’t think about him. Not now.

Rock turns toward me with two mugs in hand, his eyes softening as they meet mine. He steps between my knees as he hands me a mug. Our fingers brush, and the look in his eyes turns molten again.

“You good?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah…I’m fine.”

But he doesn’t move, his eyes boring into mine like he can see directly into my soul. He drops a hand to my thigh, his fingers tightening just slightly, the warmth of them seeping through my skin like a balm I didn’t know I needed.

“You’re not fine,” he says. It’s not a question.

I suck in a breath, eyes darting away from his. “I don’t…it’s nothing serious.”

“Tell me.” His voice is soft, but there’s no mistaking the command behind it.

I swallow hard, my hands curling around the mug like I can anchor myself to the heat.

“I was just thinking about my stepfather…” The words feel thick in my throat.

Rock angles his head, his eyes searching my face. “Do you miss him?”

“Of course not,” I say with a humorless laugh. “He…he wasn’t good to me.”

Rock doesn’t speak. He just waits for me to continue.

“He never hit me, not with fists. But his words?” I shake my head.

“He found fault in everything I did, and stopped me from having friends or even much of a social life. Swimming was my escape, but he took that away from me too. He said he was “protecting” me, but after Mom died, it got worse. He started to drink heavily. He would throw things and call me names. I only put up with it because I thought he was my father, until he revealed that he wasn’t.

It wasn’t hard for me to leave after that. ”

I don’t realize I’m shaking until Rock sets his mug aside and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“You know…he said I’d never survive without him, and I believed him,” I whisper. “It took everything in me to run. I didn’t know what I was doing. I still don’t. I just…I needed to get away. I was afraid he’d come after me. Part of me is still scared.”

Rock’s face turns to stone.

“Give me a name,” he growls. “I swear to God, Piper, if that bastard ever shows his face in Jackson Ridge, he’s dead. I don’t care who he is or what strings he pulls. I’ll put him in the goddamn ground.”

I shudder at the conviction in his voice, but it’s not fear I feel. It’s something deeper. Something warm and fierce and terrifying.

Because I believe him. I know I’m safe with him.

His hand cradles the back of my neck as he leans in close, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. “You’re safe now, little kitty.”

That undoes me.

Something in my chest cracks wide open. I slide my arms around his neck and press my lips to his, soft and slow, my own need rising like a tide.

He kisses me back immediately, mouth hot and possessive, like he needs me just as badly.

Like he’ll tear the world apart to keep me close.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, a flutter of wings too fast to count.

His hand grips my thigh and pulls me closer against him, and my body hums, ready, wanting.

And then…his phone starts to ring.

He groans into my mouth, pulling back just enough to mutter a low curse under his breath. I lean my forehead against his chest as he reaches for his phone, the moment still pulsing between us.

His entire expression shifts when he sees the caller ID, and he reverts back to the Rock I met at the bar. Serious. Cold. Focused.

“Give me a minute,” he mutters, stepping away and turning his back as he takes the call.

I stay on the counter, watching the muscles in his shoulders tense with every clipped word he speaks. His voice drops, too quiet to catch, but the tone is unmistakable. It must be club business.

When he ends the call, he turns to me, jaw tight. “I’ve gotta go,” he says. “Club matter.”

I nod, trying to hide the flicker of disappointment blooming in my chest. “I understand.”

He steps close again, brushing my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I hate leaving you alone.”

“I’ll be okay,” I say with a small smile. “Really. I was thinking of heading over to The Black Crown for breakfast anyway.”

That earns a tiny lift of his brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” To be honest, part of me hopes I’ll run into Grizz—Wolf—whatever he wants to call himself. I need answers. Even if I’m not ready to face the truth.

Rock throws on some clothes and makes sure to put his number in my phone. Then he searches my face for a long moment before he leaves. “Don’t talk to anyone you don’t trust. And if anything feels off, you call me. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I tease, winking.

His eyes flash with heat, but he grunts and grabs his cut off the hook near the door. “Don’t test me, kitty. I’ll bend you over this counter before I leave.”

I laugh, but the butterflies return tenfold.

The truth is, I wouldn’t mind one bit.