Biker Romance Books Mga Nobela at Kwento

As they walked and reached an empty road where the two were alone, Iris pulled her hand and tried to jerk his hands that were too tightly held to set loose. "Ben this cannot happen." she shouted. "What?" He asked confused. Right then two bikers in a bike rode in the area and started eve teasing "Hey girl need a shoulder" and they sped their bike making a grunting noise. They rode few meters and sped back to us circling us around The rider was wearing a helmet but the one sitting behind was throwing dirty words at Iris "your guy screwed up. Come to me. I am great pleaser in the bed." Ignoring them they walked ahead but the biker gave a grunting race to his bike and followed them "Wanna have t

I lose my smile, thinking this. No domme worth her salt loses control of the situation. Out loud I say, “Thank you for your assistance, but I’m not the kind of woman who needs others to interfere in her business. And I’m definitely not the kind of woman who needs rescued.” As I speak, I keep my voice blunt. Harsh, almost. The same tone I used with Greaser Boy. But, to my surprise, my savior doesn’t react badly. He simply bows and takes my hand in his. Held there like I’m his Queen, and he’s my knight, he kisses my hand.

She heard the words his mind had screamed into hers as their bodies continued to war with one another for dominance in the wake of their mutual release. MATE It had said over and over again. MATE MATE That's what she'd been to him, the mysterious biker man who had come into her life on a whim. Brick grunted as he maneuvered her in bed rolling her onto her belly as he pulled back and his massive cock dangled between his thighs hot and sticky from their previous joining before he impaled her from behind, his large rough, and strong hands moving along her smooth bare flesh questing and gripping her with ease as she moaned face first into the nearby pillows taking the pummeling his massive cock

he interrupted. “Stop following me Jax,” I commanded establishing my authority changing the conversation because at the end of the day he was just a massive fan of mine. “No, I want recommendations on books, preferably the slow burns with two people trying to fight their connection when they were soulmates from the moment they met but they were blind.” I know what he was doing. He was trying to describe our romance but ours was a tragedy, not a romance in my books anyway. I huffed annoyed and played his game, by saying “I would recommend Birthday Girl by Penelo-“

she asked, not mockingly, she seemed genuinely curious. “Yes.” My voice cracked a little. I hated that it did. “Enough to do anything.” Rogue stared at me for a few seconds before she spoke again. “Life as a biker isn’t a romance novel Lilith.” I narrowed my eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Ryker cleared his throat before answering, "To hang out at the bar as usual." "And drink and get drunk?" Rosalia shook her head. "No wonder," she said more quietly. Ryker who heard that was drawn closer to her. "What does that head shake mean?" Rosalia girded her loins even though she was scared to death of Ryker and those men. "That's what I thought about the biker gang and you confirmed it." Ryker quickly picked up the screwdriver Rosalia was holding. "We're not an ordinary biker gang. We're not what you think we are." Then he threw the screwdriver at the wall and it stuck there. "We're more dangerous than you think."

“Stop looking at me like that.” I snap out of my horny daze and look up at him. He’s frowning, clearly not enjoying being checked out. Never met a biker who didn’t like the attention of a woman. Then again, I’ve noticed he’s different from every other biker... or any healthy man, for that matter. Maybe he’s gay. The hot ones always are. “Fuck you. My room, my rules. You came in here, so I can check you out if I feel like it.”

I unlocked the door to the sight of a black beastly motorcycle with an equally huge biker all dressed in black riding through the gate to the mansion entrance. My breath catches. I’ve never had a thing for bikers because of their rough edges, their disregard for “proper” society, but the way he locks eyes with me through that tinted visor… the way his tattooed arm flexes as he grips the handlebars… a rush of wet heat floods between my thighs. I press them together, clit pulsing hard. What the hell is wrong with me? Last night was Simon’s twin. Now I’m getting wet because of some random hot biker?

“As I said earlier, I’ve had enough drinks and I would love to be on my way home.” The biker chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, I think you are," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You see, I've been watching you all evening, and I can tell you're not like the other girls here. You've got a certain... spark in your eye. And I think I'd like to hear more about what makes you this thick. That ass makes my dick hard. C'mon, stop playing hard to get." I rolled my eyes, unimpressed. "Save it, biker boy," I said. "I'm not some damsel in distress waiting to be swept off her feet. And even if I was, I'm not sure you'd be my type."

"Seriously? Can't we just wait for him out here, in the parking lot?" Krystal turned to me, her hand reaching for the visor. As she adjusted her blond hair and fluffed it out, she effortlessly pulled down her push-up bra, accentuating her cleavage in the sparkly black tank top that barely contained her assets. "What's the matter?" she asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Nervous about stepping into a biker bar?" "It's more than that, and you know it." The place had a notorious reputation, plagued by gangs, fights, drug dealings, and prostitution.