Page 39 of Sexting the Bikers (Ruthless Riders #2)

DOG

I catch Katya by the arm while she’s rinsing her hands in the kitchen sink, pulling her close with a quiet urgency. “There’s something I need to show you,” I say, lowering my voice so the others don’t catch the edge in it.

Reaper, who is of-fucking-course standing right next to her, looks at me suspiciously.

This isn’t how I pictured this would go. I feel a sting of annoyance, but it’s familiar—he’s always been in the middle of things.

Katya wipes her hands on a dish towel and looks between us. “Why don’t you come as well?” she says to Reaper, that calm voice of hers making it sound like the simplest solution in the world.

I hesitate, glancing at Reaper. It was supposed to be a private thing, but hell, maybe that’s not what tonight’s about. Because despite everything, he’s always looking out for me, and the rest of the crew. I know I would be dead if it weren’t for him.

“What the hell, come along,” I say finally, trying to play it cool but not quite pulling it off. As we climb the stairs, the old wood creaking under our boots, I take out my phone and thumb out a message to Bishop.

Get up here, Bishop. Trust me. Now. As I type, I mutter to Katya, “Might as well call Bishop too. If we leave him out, he’ll be sullen all night, and no one wants to listen to him grumble.”

Reaper snorts, falling in behind us, his boots heavier than mine, but I don’t mind his company as much as I pretend. Katya gives me a curious glance but follows along, the three of us moving up the narrow stairs like we’ve done it a hundred times.

Bishop’s room is at the end of the hall, always the cleanest of the bunch—military neat, or at least, it usually is.

When we push open the door, I notice stacks of books sliding off his desk, a shirt tossed over his chair, and a couple of empty mugs crowding the windowsill.

Not quite chaos, but definitely not his usual sharp lines and clear surfaces.

Katya glances around, a little smile playing on her lips. “It wasn’t like this the last time I was in here,” she says softly, running her finger along the edge of the dresser.

I pause, a slow grin spreading as I catch her words. “When were you…?” My brain fumbles, and I turn to look at her, just as Reaper gives me a look. Then it clicks, and Katya blushes, color blooming up her throat and cheeks.

I laugh, low and teasing. “Guess we’ve all had you, huh?” I lean back against the door, giving her a wicked smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Reaper shakes his head, crossing the room and crowding Katya against the dresser, his hand coming up to brush her hair back. “You’re trouble, kitten,” he murmurs, and there’s a roughness in his voice that I love hearing. “But Dog’s right for once.”

Katya looks at both of us, her eyes wide, her breathing faster now. “Should we really be doing this right now?” she asks, her voice shaky, but she doesn’t move away. If anything, she leans in, looking at me and then at Reaper, like she’s daring us to say no.

The door clicks closed behind us, and Bishop enters, his eyes flicking from me to Katya to Reaper. He sets his rifle aside, lips quirking up. “Honestly, I think this is the best idea Dog’s had in a while,” he says, voice smoother than usual.

I move closer to Katya, my hand sliding down her arm, slow and deliberate, feeling her shiver at the touch. “You sure you can handle all of us?” I whisper, just for her.

Katya draws in a shaky breath, caught between all three of us.

Her eyes dart from Reaper’s to Bishop’s and then to mine, heat shimmering in her gaze.

She cups my jaw and kisses me, her mouth soft and searching, her hands threading into my hair.

I can feel her trembling, nerves and excitement mixing as I deepen the kiss, tasting the adrenaline still left from the fight.

When she pulls back, she turns to Reaper, tugging him down, her lips parting for him, the kiss rough and hungry, like she’s been waiting for this all night.

He cradles the back of her head, kissing her until she’s gasping, flushed, and breathless.

Bishop moves to stand behind her, his hands resting on her waist. He brushes her hair aside and leans in, kissing the side of her neck, slow and thorough, until she shivers and leans back into him.

He whispers something low in her ear, making her smile even as her hands reach back, gripping his shirt, tugging him closer until she tilts her head to capture his lips over her shoulder.

The kiss is deep and sure, their bodies molding together.

I slip my hands to her waist, and Reaper’s hands join mine, the two of us working together to untie the remains of her dress, fingers moving slowly, carefully.

Bishop’s hands slide over her shoulders, pulling the red fabric down her arms, and the three of us undress her piece by piece, taking our time, letting the silk fall in soft waves to the floor.

Katya arches into our touch, her breath coming quicker, her hands never still as she reaches for all of us.

She laughs, breathless and flushed, her voice warm and teasing. “Looks like I get my wedding night after all. Though I don’t think this is how Novikov pictured it.”

Bishop grins and kisses her again, slow and lingering, while Reaper’s hands roam down her back, his mouth tracing a line down her throat.

I hold her from behind, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

Together, we guide her to the bed, undressing her with patient hands, kissing every inch of skin we reveal.

Katya’s breath is quick and shallow, eyes dark with want, lips parted as she looks at the three of us circling her.

There’s nothing shy about the way she meets my gaze, or the way her hands move, fingers tangled in my shirt before slipping away to pull Reaper closer and then draw Bishop down for another bruising kiss.

Reaper’s hands find the clasp of her bra, fingers working quickly. When he unhooks it, her breasts spill free and time seems to slow.

She looks even more beautiful like this—bold, flushed, hair messy, undressed and ready to be ruined by us.

The hunger in the room turns molten. I can’t help myself; I reach out, cupping one perfect breast, thumb dragging over her nipple, watching it tighten under my touch.

Bishop is right there with me, bending to take her other breast into his mouth, tongue swirling, lips hot and greedy.

Katya arches, a soft moan rolling from her chest, hand sinking into Bishop’s hair and pulling him closer.

Reaper isn’t content to just watch. He moves behind her, big hands sliding around to squeeze both breasts, lifting and kneading, until she gasps and shivers between us.

Her hips roll, seeking friction. She’s surrounded, lost in hands and mouths and hungry eyes, every inch of her wanted, every curve adored.

I lower my head, sucking her nipple between my lips, loving the way her breath catches and her body tenses, thighs trembling against my hips.

Bishop bites lightly, tongue soothing over the spot, and Reaper growls his approval, pinching both nipples until Katya cries out, head falling back on his shoulder.

There’s nothing delicate about what we’re doing. This is raw and honest and perfect, everything I’ve ever wanted to see.

I watch as Katya crawls onto the bed, and then glances over her shoulder, eyes dark with invitation, her breasts swaying as she settles on all fours. She looks like a vision from some fever dream—untamed and completely ours.

Reaper and Bishop move behind her, their hands running up the length of her thighs, gripping and spreading her, mouths and palms never leaving her body.

I reach down and unzip, my cock springing free, and Katya wastes no time.

She leans in, wraps her hand around me, and slides her lips down my length, her mouth warm and wet and so hungry it nearly undoes me.

The heat of her tongue, the way she moans around me as Reaper and Bishop run their hands up her sides, make me groan.

Bishop palms her ass, spreading her wider, trailing his fingers up the crease of her thigh, while Reaper’s mouth finds her neck and shoulder, biting, kissing, marking her.

Their hands work in sync, fondling her breasts, rolling her nipples, making her shudder with every touch.

She takes me deeper, her mouth tight and greedy, her eyes shining as she looks up at me. I brush her hair back and watch as her hips push back, inviting more. Bishop leans in, whispering filthy praise in her ear, and Reaper’s fingers stroke her clit, making her gasp and moan around my cock.

Her body rocks between us, every part of her alive and trembling with need. She takes me deeper, her lips sliding down my length, her tongue swirling, each hungry movement making my legs go weak. The sight of her, naked and surrounded by the three of us, is burned into my memory forever.

Reaper kneels behind her and palms her ass, fingers digging into her soft skin, then dips his head, licking her slowly, teasing her with his tongue until she shudders and moans, the sound vibrating around me.

Bishop lies beside her, hands everywhere—cupping her breasts, tugging and rolling her nipples, kissing her mouth when she lifts her head.

Katya doesn’t stop. Her rhythm grows more desperate, her hips moving in time with Reaper’s tongue and Bishop’s hands.

She moans and sucks, mouth slick, eyes wild with pleasure and power.

I grip her hair gently, holding her steady, letting her set the pace, letting her show us exactly what she wants.

Reaper rises behind her, lining himself up, his hands gripping her hips. He slides into her slow, making her gasp and arch, her mouth tightening around me.