I wrap my arms around myself to cover my chest, but Bates grabs both wrists and stops me.
“Don’t hide from us,” he orders. I clench my fists but bite my tongue, waiting to see what his next move will be. When he sees I’m not going to fight him, he lets go of me and grabs his T-shirt and slides it over my head.
It falls to my knees and covers everything, although I’m sure I can see the outline of my nipples through the thin white fabric.
“From now on, the only men’s clothing you’ll wear is the stuff that belongs to Priest, Saint, and me,” Bates orders quietly.
I try not to let his possessiveness get to me, but that growly voice of his does things to my body that most dicks can’t. I bite my lip so I don’t squirm on the spot.
“It was just one of my dad’s old ones.”
“Only ours,” he repeats, leaning down and pressing his mouth to the shell of my ear. “Unless that’s your kink. If you want the dirty biker to fuck daddy’s little girl and fill her with his cum while she’s wearing one of his T-shirts? Well, who am I to argue?”
I just stand there with my mouth gaping open like a fish because what the actual fuck do I say to that?
Bates walks over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer, grabbing a clean T-shirt for himself. I watch him slip it on then pull his cut on over it before he walks out of the room without another word or a backward glance.
I turn to the two remaining hot bikers, studiously trying to ignore that their dicks are visibly hard beneath their jeans. “Why didn’t he just give me the clean T-shirt?”
“Because then it wouldn’t smell like him. He wants you to be thinking of him and his dick when you touch yourself tonight,” Saint admits wryly.
“You know, most of the time I want to hit him. Repeatedly. In the face. With a chair.” Oops, I didn’t mean for that to slip out.
“Bates has that effect on people. Doesn’t change the fact that your panties are wet now though does it, Reign?” he teases with a smirk before leaving with a laughing Priest on his heels.
“Arrogant, egotistical, stupid, goddamn mother-loving bikers,” I mutter as I lock the door and stomp back over to the bed.
The problem is, as I climb under the sheets and feel the cool cotton against my heated skin, I can’t think of anything other than Bates, which is why when I slip my fingers into my panties moments later and bring myself to a mind-blowing orgasm, I give all the credit to my super talented fingers and not the image of Bates stroking his mutant cock.
I wake up later when I feel the covers slide back. I have a brief moment of terror thinking the stalker found me until I smell Bates and feel him climb in beside me, locking his arm around me tightly before burying his face in my hair. I relax instantly, feeling oddly safe given who it is, and feel myself drifting back to sleep.
The next time I wake, it’s because something is tickling the inside of my thigh. I swat it away, or I try to, but my hand hits something hairy. My eyes snap open just as I feel something press against my core.
“What the fuck?” I yell, just as Bates’s amused eyes meet mine when he glances up from between my legs.
“I was wondering when you were going to wake up. I’m hungry and I like to start the day off with a good breakfast,” he tells me before hooking his finger in my panties and pulling them aside.
And then he licks me. He licks me. As in, I have a biker on my clit.
“Oh. My. God. Is this really happening? Wait, maybe I’m still dreaming?”
His tongue slips inside me, making my back arch off the bed.
Nope, definitely not a dream.
I grip his hair, intending to pull him away, but then he does this swirly thing with his tongue and I find myself pushing him closer.
“You are a very bad man,” I scold, but I can’t even be mad. I think it’s illegal to be mad when there’s a tongue inside your pussy, and if it’s not, it should be.
“Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he warns me before he goes to town, sucking, licking, and ruining me for all other men. I mean, I’ll