Ride Me Hard: A Biker Romance Serial (The Devil's Host Motorcycle Club Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

that separated me from the girls that sometimes wandered between trucks in the parking lot at Jimmy’s before they put in the bypass was that stupid coffee can of savings under my sink and a twist of fate. “Is that what you do when you’re not being an enforcer? Are you a…pimp?”
    He tenses beneath me. Flinches. Before he so much as tilts his chin in my direction, I know the answer is no. This was just more posturing.
    He squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t shock you, can I?”
    “It’s not all an act—I’m not stupid, but I bet you could shock me more if you stopped trying so hard to scare me away.”
    “Fine.” He takes a long look at my body, up and down and back up again. A searching gaze that tightens my nipples and raises the blush that had started to recede. Every flick of his eyes feels like a puzzle piece being snapped into place. “Suck me off.”
    “What?” I’d expected him to argue with me, to be even bigger and badder, to bang his chest and prove me wrong. Waitressing taught me to read people pretty well, but maybe I’d miscalculated. I roll off him and stand beside the bed.
    Ooof. I stumble when his hand snakes between my legs and around my thigh, pinning me before I can’t get more than a step away.
    “You heard me. You want me to stop trying to scare you away? Get to work. Put that perceptive little mouth of yours on my cock. I’ve been imagining what it would feel like since you hit your knees outside the diner.”
    Somewhere in the back of my brain I know I’m supposed to be a little pissed off, but I’m too busy wondering if he can feel the wetness running down the inside of my thigh and thinking about how fucking hot it sounds. “Yes, sir.”
    “Don’t call me sir. That’s for bankers and businessmen and shit. Boring fucks who wear ties and drive Volvos.” He flicks open the fly of his jeans while he scolds me, and his heavy palm pushing down on my shoulder lets me know I’m obliged to perform from the floor, not the bed.
    He stands up, and I keep my eyes trained on the open flap of his pants, the navy cotton underwear peeking out, the erection barely contained by either. “I call everyone sir at work.”
    “This ain’t work.”
    Well, that settles one thing. I tug the pants down from his hips and suck in a breath. The ink swirling over his hands and arms swirls over his belly too. Every inch of him that I can see is covered. Except the lowest part of his abdomen…and his cock. Thick and blunt and glistening with precum. Oh, that cock could hurt me. It could choke me. It might do both of those things before our time together is over. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought, because damn if that isn’t exactly what I want.
    “You’re squirming and licking your lips, Star. Tell me what’s going on in that busy head of yours or get to it.”
    The silky skin of his dick is so hot against my palm. I curl my fingers around the base and squeeze once before licking the tip with the flat of my tongue, catching the salty drops beaded there and whisking them away. I lap at the underside, slicking him from the base of his cock to the ridge beneath the head—and look up at him. For approval? For reassurance? For instruction? I don’t know. For something.
    His eyes are shuttered, offering me absolutely nothing. So I push. I tell him what I’m thinking between lazy licks. “Your cock’s gonna hurt me. That’s what I was thinking.”
    “No, sweetheart. I’m going to hurt you. And you like that, don’t you? Shit. I tried to hold back, but you just won’t let me, will you?” He wraps my hair in his hand and pushes me down.
    I open my mouth instinctively, taking the hot length of him between my lips. This is what I want. This invasion.
    “I’m going to get so deep inside you—your mouth, your pussy, your mind.” He rocks his hips, nudging his cock deeper still.
    I try to take it, but no amount of slow deep breathing can stop the reflex that makes my throat spasm and my