“Come here, Biker Boy. Kneel over me.” And as she speaks, her hands cup her boobs, thumbs rubbing over her nipples. The pose is an offering.

I lose myself in the erotic nature of the idea. The temptation is so acute that my body has forgotten how to move.

“Don’t you want to?” Zoey’s question breaks through the shock, and I can see the uncertainty in the way she bites her lip.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, crawling up her body, dragging my mouth over her bare skin as I go.

Every lick and nip has her gasping and chuckling. When my face reaches her chest, I tongue her stiff nipples in turn, a preemptive thank-you.

Zoey writhes under my ministrations. “I’ve never tried this. But—oh God—I want to watch you.”

A growl of need rips from my throat. Despite the animalistic nature of the sound, my wolf isn’t controlling my actions. I am all man at this moment, and my woman wants to watch as I use her body to find release.

With my knees pressing into the mattress beside her ribs, my erection bobs, the tip seeping liquid that drops onto her flushed chest.

Zoey presses her boobs together as her heavy-lidded eyes meet mine. She must be staring into pure blackness.

Bracing one hand above her head, I use the other to guide my dick to the cradle she’s created. Soft. Warm. Erotic beyond belief.

My cock’s head appears and disappears as I slowly thrust. Zoey hums a satisfied purr, her lips curving in a wicked smile as her fingers pluck at her nipples.

It’s. Too. Much.

My speed increases, and the moisture that seeps from me makes each pass slicker. Soon, Zoey’s skin glistens with my pre-cum, and I want to roar in triumph.

“Warner.”

At the sound of my name, I realize I’ve been focused on watching myself thrust against her. I drag my eyes upward, meeting a fiercely commanding gaze.

“Zoey,” I groan, her name a plea.

“Come for me.” She’s not begging. The statement commands my obedience.

Suddenly, I’m spilling. My cum covers her chest, marking her as I shout curses of pleasure, hands fisting in the pillow beside her head.

Zoey releases her chest, her palms cupping my ass as I jerk involuntarily with the force of my release. When I’m spent, I roll to the side, collapsing on the mattress. The ceiling shifts and blurs as the aftershocks of pleasure fog my mind.

The bedsprings squeak again, and I realize Zoey is leaving me.

“Where—”

She cuts me off, “Don’t move. Be right back.”

I watch her ass as she strolls out of the room. A minute later, she comes back, hands full.

“Careful with this. It might still be drying.” She lays a motorcycle helmet on my bare chest. The protective wear has a fearsome wolf painted on the side.