Wild Rider Novels & Stories

she asked, " Now that he knows where you live and he has seen the children. Won't he keep coming here?" Rhonda's question was valid, and just like her, I didn't know what to do either. I would just wait and see. I couldn't afford to relocate. I would just have to bear it. "I will just have to bear it," I confessed. " You know this is a human settlement right? You can just call the cops and get a restraining order on him," she advised, and I laughed. " What's so funny?" she asked in amusement. "Alex is a Wildbreed," I told her.

Alexandra had proved herself at the branding, and now she was ready for a different kind of challenge, as she had something else in mind, a Private Rodeo. As they walked hand in hand towards the cabin, she teased him with the promise of a rodeo, a personal bull riding session. Jeremy raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness, but he was more than happy to play along. He felt a thrill of excitement coursing through him as she refused to reveal her plans, as she was going to be in charge of this rodeo.

Startled, I get up from the bed and move toward the window, pulling back the curtain with trembling hands. Outside, under the moonlit sky, a large black wolf stands in the clearing. Its silhouette is striking against the silver light, casting a long shadow on the grass. The wolf’s eyes glow a deep, intense blue as it lifts its head and howls again, a sound that seems to resonate with the very essence of the night.

Then, he waved to a waiter and ordered some food for us. Jared quietened down after the orders were taken and stared at me with his eyes glazed over, looking a little lost. I knew he had taken too big a sip of whiskey earlier and was struggling to stay clear-headed. Just as I wondered if I should take the opportunity to bring up my resignation and have him approve it while he was in a daze, I realized that he was burning a hole in my head with that blatant, fiery gaze of his. I felt my goosebumps rising.

It was a primal, nesting instinct, and it drew her to him like a moth to a steady flame. With Ryder, it was the opposite. When the walls of the stone station felt too close, when Liam’s protectiveness became a cage, the restless energy inside her sought a spark. She’d catch Ryder’s eye across the room a flicker of mischief, a daring half-smile a an and a thrill would shoot through her, reckless and hot. He was the danger just outside the wall, the wild she wasn’t supposed to want. Her desire for him was for the sharp edge, the unpredictable laugh, the feeling of being alive precisely because it was unsafe. He was the wild wind, and part of her, a part the baby seemed to stir up, wanted to fl

“Mmm… you smell so fucking sweet. Horny virgin pussy.” He nuzzled harder, tongue flicking out to lick the wet fabric. Tyler yanked the back of my trunks down slightly, exposing the top of my round ass cheeks. “Bet this tight little asshole is just as pretty.” I whimpered loudly, body trembling. My futa cock had grown dangerously hard now, pushing obscenely against the front of the trunks, creating a clear, thick bulge. Shame and unwanted pleasure warred inside me. Just as Tyler’s fingers dipped lower, aiming between my legs, a powerful gust of wind tore through the clearing. Unnatural. Cold. It ripped leaves from trees and nearly knocked Julie’s phone from her hand. The campfire flickered wi

Julian After River made his sister change tops — twice — we get into his Challenger and head out to Ezra Kane's. He lives on the outskirts of town in a small farm. Few know it, but Ezra Kane used to be a professional bull rider. He came onto the circuit at age eighteen and was forced to retire at age twenty-two after getting kicked in the face one too many times. The last one left him with three cracked vertebrae, a cracked eye socket, and a jaw wired shut for six weeks.

His hand slid between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his hips. "Come for me, Avery." His thumb pressed harder. His thrusts grew deeper. And I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. I screamed his name, my nails raking down his back, my inner walls clenching around him so hard that he groaned like he was in pain. He kept moving through it, chasing his own release, driving into me with desperate, uneven strokes. "Avery," he groaned, and the sound of my name on his lips was my undoing all over again.

~Nick~ The name’s Nick Gracen, but most call me Lightning. I’m the local prez of the Wild Ridge MC Club. It’s a title that carries weight, respect, and a hell of a lot of responsibility. I looked around the clubhouse, a place that had seen more action than most could handle. The air was thick with the scent of oil, leather, and a hint of whiskey—a comforting blend that felt like home. The brothers were scattered around, some tinkering with their bikes, others deep in conversation about our latest shipment.

WILDA. “Well, this seems to be my lucky day,” the man’s eyes travel down my naked body, a pleased smile on his face. I instinctively drop a hand to cover my crotch, the other across my small breasts. He does not avert his gaze. My body trembles under the scrutiny of his gaze. I find myself looking away, ashamed. “This is private property,” I say, weakly, my cheeks burning red hot and my breath shallow. “Oh, is it?” he asks, his voice teasing. “Well, then you must be Wilda, I’m Victor, and I will be your riding instructor.”