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6: My Kitten
Last Updated:
2026-01-01 07:07:56
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The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 22: Perfectly Safe
RHEAI explode—screaming, pussy gushing around his fingers, squirting hard in hot waves, body convulsing, clit pulsing against the cold ring. He doesn’t stop—fingers fucking me through it, drawing it out until I’m sobbing, coming again immediately, harder, juices soaking his hand, the desk, everything.“Good fucking girl,” he growls, voice rough for the first time.I’m wrecked—trembling, tears streaming, pussy still spasming.He pulls his fingers out slow, dragging them against my walls, letting me feel every inch of the empty ache he leaves behind.I’m desperate now—raw, throbbing need pulsing through my swollen pussy, clit begging for anything to tip me over.“Dame—please—your cock—I need your cock inside me—please fuck me—fill me up—”He stands tall, unzips his pants slow and deliberate, like he’s got all the time in the world. Pulls out that pierced monster—thick as my wrist, veiny ridges pulsing, the silver barbell through the fat head glinting with pre-cum.My mouth waters. My p
The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 21: My Good Girl
RHEAThe door opens a minute later. A staff member drops off the bucket of ice water—no questions, no eye contact—and vanishes.Damien grabs it, sets it on the desk beside me. I’m still spread out, naked, pussy dripping from his fingers and mouth, body shaking with denied orgasms. My clit is swollen, throbbing like a heartbeat, every nerve screaming for release.He doesn’t say a word.Just dips his hand into the bucket—rings and all—and lets it sit there. Ice cubes clink against metal.My breath hitches. I know what’s coming.He pulls his hand out, water dripping from his fingers, rings now freezing cold. He spreads my thighs wider with his free hand, rough grip bruising.“Look at this messy pussy,” he says, voice dark and filthy. “Soaked. Swollen. Begging for me to wreck it.”He presses one ice-cold, ringed finger right against my clit—metal biting like frost. I scream, hips jerking up, the cold shock sending lightning through me.“Too much?” he mocks, circling slow with that frozen
The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 20: Show Me How Sorry You Are
RHEA“You only have one chance now,” he says, voice low and smooth like velvet dragged over steel. “Walk out that door and I forget tonight ever happened. No punishment. No consequences. You get my forgiveness, clean and easy, my love.”He pauses, eyes searching mine, that dangerous glint sharpening.“But that’s not what you want, is it?”His gaze drops slowly—deliberate—down my body, lingering on my chest, my hips, between my legs, like he can already see how wet I am.“You want me to punish you.”The word punish rolls off his tongue like a promise.“You want to be my good girl again. You want me to make you take it.”He leans forward slightly, still seated, still not touching me.“And right now, just thinking about what I’m going to do to you has your little pussy soaked, doesn’t it? Thighs slick. Clit throbbing. Begging for my attention.”Fuck.Heat floods me—instant, overwhelming. My nipples tighten hard against my bikini top. My thighs clench together on instinct, trying to ease
The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 19: Big, Bad Boss
RHEA“Go on. Get on your knees. Crawl. Pick it up.”I can’t help it.Laughter bubbles up in my throat—wild, misplaced—and it takes real effort to keep it in. I look away from her face, down at the scattered bills instead.That much money would get Roofus and me air conditioning. Hell, it would cover both our halves of the rent for a good while. Letting it go would be stupid.Glory is the first to break the silence. “Maxine! Just because the boss leaves you in charge when he’s away doesn’t mean you get to disrespect anyone—”“Oh, shut up,” Maxine snaps. “You short, fat little thing. You want to get paid this month or not?” Her smile is cruel. “Or maybe you want me to drag you by the ear into the street and see who’s desperate enough to take you for the night.”Glory stiffens.“And don’t forget,” Maxine continues sweetly, “you still owe me for that loan I gave your fake ass. Don’t make me decide how you pay it back.” She tilts her head. “Wouldn’t want your poor daddy dying in that hospi
The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 18: What A Woman Wants
RHEAPRESENTHis eyes never leave mine.I make damn sure of it.I hadn’t even been certain he’d be here—this was meant to be reckless fun, nothing more. A provocation. I did hesitate, briefly, at the thought of getting Marek into even more trouble, but technically? I wasn’t breaking any rules.He said no dancing.He never said what kind.And if a woman wants to wear next to nothing, climb a pole, and move like sin under flashing lights—who is any man to stop her?It’s a coincidence, really. One of the dancers called in sick. Her outfit was already here. Brand new. Practically waiting for me.Now, though, coincidence feels like a lie I tell myself.I look toward the shadowed booth.Storm-grey eyes catch mine instantly, sharp and unblinking. The kind of gaze that doesn’t look away first. Rings glint on his fingers as he shifts, lazy but alert, the lights catching just enough to reveal the suggestion of ink along his forearms.So. He came.Since he’s here, I might as well make it worth t
The Biker's Bride Wants Revenge 17: Partners In Crime
RHEAI spend the rest of the day working paid overtime.I want to slouch. I want to peel myself out of this chair and lie flat on the floor until my spine forgets what responsibility feels like. Instead, I don’t. I finish notes. I sign off decks. I answer questions no one would dare ask me twice.By the time I shut down my computer, the office has thinned to ghosts and glowing screens.I’d already called Ernest, told him I’d be working late. It took more effort than it should have to convince him to go home early and see his grandkids. I can get myself home just fine. I’ve survived worse than a quiet walk.I pack my bag and lock the office.The executive elevator hums as it descends, smooth and silent. I count the floors without meaning to. Not because I’m nervous—because I’m waiting.Nothing happens.On the seventeenth floor, the doors slide open and a man steps in like he belongs there.“Rhea,” he says, offering a smile that’s practiced but not slimy. “Noah. Head of Marketing. We me
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