Mc Biker Romance Novels & Stories

I felt Michael lips descend onto my back as he kissed up my spine and his hips were completely pressed into my cheeks as my body shook even Nico was cupping my cheek and also coaxing my eyes up toward him as Michael lips met my ear. I can believe I'm really doing this again with the biker brothers. I shivered at the warmth of his breath against my skin. “Are you okay?” I moaned around Nico cock and gave Michael a squeeze with my ass.

And if I did the former… Nah, I had to win. “All bikers ready?” The marshal asked. We revved our bikes in response. He waved down the flag, and stepped out of the way. I relaxed my hands on the handlebars and took off. The lane was far more smoother than the one at my former academy, and I wasn’t used to ‘getting things easy.’ I picked up speed, swerved down a sharp path, then burst out in the much wider lane. Marguerite wasn’t bluffing when she bragged about being a good biker. I could hear the sound of her Ninja’s engine far off from behind me. Qyler was being lazy as always, enjoying himself rather than aiming to win. The bastard was as good as I was otherwise.

She opened her mouth to scream when the sound of motorcycle engines roared down the street. Six bikes appeared from around the corner moving fast. They weren't Vipers. The engines sounded different. More expensive. The bikes pulled up in a half circle around Maya and the three men and suddenly the air felt different. Heavier. The riders killed their engines and the silence that followed was worse than the noise. They climbed off their bikes and Maya saw their vests. Iron Wolves MC. She didn't know if that was better or worse than the Vipers. One of them walked forward and the others followed. He was tall with dark hair and the kind of face that probably got him anything he wanted. His leathe

"Wait, what? No. You can't just marry me off to your son and expect he sleeps with me on the wedding night." "It's a tradition you must follow," she said, cutting me off. "It's been the mafia bikers' tradition for years. The bride and groom consummate, and the family checks the sheets. No blood, no marriage." "That's fucking insane," I murmured under my breath. "You said something?" "Nothing," I said. If it was something, I didn't want to insult their tradition because it's been known for years that they're good with traditions and ruthless to anyone who insults it.

Oh, wait… I didn’t know what she meant until it happened. The low, hungry roar of an engine broke the quiet. The sound was familiar, too familiar. My lungs locked up. No. It couldn’t be. The chapel doors swung open. A rider strode in, helmet still on, leather jacket catching the dim light. He walked with the same mix of arrogance and ease I remembered, like the world belonged to him and he dared anyone to disagree. He pulled the helmet off. Dark hair fell into storm-gray eyes that locked onto mine instantly, like they’d been searching for me the whole time.

“You almost wiped out on that last lap because you were staring at your doctor instead of the track. If you die, I’m not explaining that to the council.” “I won’t die,” I muttered. “That’s what you said last time.” I grimaced but did not argue. He was right. My attention had been fractured lately, split between the roar of the engine and the quiet gravity of a woman who refused to orbit me. The racing helped more than I wanted to admit. Each session stripped away the noise. When I was on the bike, everything narrowed to speed, balance, instinct. There was no room for regret or longing at two hundred kilometers per hour. Only the present moment, sharp and alive.

He howls in agony. I bite down harder. I taste his blood. It is so sweet. It is so delicious. I close my eyes. I feel his blood run down my jaws and onto my chest. I am so hungry for it. I want to drink every last taste. To consume him completely. The other bikers are shouting. I can hear the revving of their motorcycles. I hear the roar of their bikes as they jump back on them and speed away. I let go off the man's leg.

My gaze scanned his bike, and I saw that it had a realistic drawing of a silver-furred wolf with sharp golden eyes designed on the bike, along with a long line of smoky red flames drawn across the body of the bike. The biker was clad in a black leather jacket and putting on a sleek black helmet that looked different from the others. He gave off a different aura. A leader's aura I found myself being drawn to as I felt tingles between my legs. "Oh, my fucking goodness! Aleric Dolce came to college today?!" The girls squealed louder in whispers, blushing and barely controlling their excitement as they rushed forward to have a better view of the bikers.

‘Grand Don Romero Marconi. She told him now and heard the intake of breath from the other Bikers and then gasped as he circled her and scooped her onto the bike in front of him all she could do was cling on to him as the bike sped off. Juliette couldn’t see anything his arm around her waist was so tight she could barely move, it pinned her to his chest as the bikers headed back to their camp. It was difficult to breathe pressed against all that hard muscle and she wriggled trying to push away from him, ‘Stai zitto o ci ucciderai entrambi.’ [Keep still or you will kill us both.]

6 star rating out of 596 reviews. ********************* Harley: The Outlaw Chronicles: Book One - Completed - A Secret Romance in an Outlaw MC! Harley was the product of an affair. After her mother died, she decided to make contact with her father, Ron Hale, a criminal and leader of a felon-filled, biker outlaw club, The Savage Scorpions. After months of virtual communication, she decides to visit him in his small Californian town of Pleasant-Tree-Ville. When she arrives, she gets less than a warm welcome from the other SS members. As the days pass, she starts forming friendships, bonds and something a little more with Alexander Coates, Her father's second-in-command... and best friend. It'