Savage Angels: A Savage MC Erotic Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

was just engaged at the opening to her ass. “Whatever you want. It’ll be okay with me.”
    Then he pressed in. He slid into her ass and out, and deeper in, and slowly out, and on. The strokes got faster and harder, and he got harder, and her ass hurt like hell.  
    She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it, she did. She liked it a lot. She was getting to like the scent and the velvety skin of this hard American. But she saw no reason to let him know any of that if she could help it.
    Gripping on tight to him with her thighs, she stretched back. He put out his hand out along her back. And he rammed harder in. It ached and burned, but through the pain was a thrill that she hadn’t ever felt before.  
    Something deep. And dark. But strong. It was like an echo of something from long ago. Impossibly long ago.
    Then he lifted her off his cock. Lifted her like she was a bag of sugar or a cake. She couldn’t imagine this rough biker with either of those things though. So like a what? A bag of money, probably. Dirty dollars in bundles of thousands.  
    He pulled out of her ass, and slipped straight in to penetrate her dripping hot puss. She felt like she had exploded. She wrapped her arms tight around him, squeezed with her thighs.  
    She rode him as hard as she could. She was so ready to cry, and she really didn’t want him to see that. The thought made it harder to hold back. Her hands slid into his shirt. Her fingers snaked around to the ridges of into his back. Dug her nails in. Dragged on his flesh.
    Didn’t seem to make any difference to him. She drew back and beat on his chest. Flailed her fists at him as hard as she could. He kept right on, his huge cock filling her up, hard, hot and pounding into her. His thighs slapped against her soft cheeks, still raw from his cock.  
    Angelica beat wildly on his shoulders. His rhythm didn’t change. She slapped her hands on his face. Over and over. As fast and as hard as she could. He didn’t twitch.  
    But the effort, while he was fucking her, so deep, so hard, while her hips, her treacherous little woman’s body, while her hips slid lasciviously along the length of his long, fat cock.
    The more she beat him, the closer she was to crying.
    She sunk her teeth into the top of his shoulder. He still didn’t seem to care. And rage was the only defense she had against the well of tears so close to bursting.  
    So she rode his cock as hard as she could and through her teeth she shouted into the hard, muscled flesh of his shoulder, “Fuck me. Come on, American. FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW! ”
    The orgasm blasted into her like the Pacific smashing against high granite cliffs, breeching through vast, ancient caves, like a tsunami bursting into a bay, filling and consuming the coves and crags of the coast with white, raging foam.

Lying back on the table, Angelica could hardly move. She ached all over, but all of her muscles sang. Never before had she felt anything like that. So powerful it almost felt religious. Maybe because she was exhausted and hadn’t eaten properly since the wedding.  
    Whatever it was, it left her unbalanced. Confused. She felt drawn to this big biker like a father. Like a savior. And she knew that he wasn’t going to be either. Not for her.
    The sound of boots came from outside. Then a bang on the door and a rough male voice, “You done, bro? Ready to go?”
    Not taking his eyes off her, the biker said, “Ax there?” Another voice came from behind the door,
    “We’re all set, bro.” The biker called back,
    “Ax, take the merchandise and stack it in the cage. Call the geek and get him over. Don’t let anyone start to open anything before I get there.”
    “You got it. See you back.”
    “Ax?” the biker called again, insistent, “Nobody opens anything. No exceptions. Clear?”
    “Aye. You be far behind?”
    “No, I won’t be long.”
    As he fastened his silver buckle he told Angelica, “I hate to think of you being manhandled,