The Biker's Sinful Captive

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Present Day

Anton’s fingers were still buried deep inside me, pushing his thick c*m back into my p***y like he couldn’t stand the thought of any of it escaping. I was still trembling from the last orgasm, my body slick with sweat and completely wrecked, but he was already hardening again against my thigh.

“Stay with me,” he had growled earlier. Now his voice dropped even lower, rough with fresh hunger. “We’re nowhere near done tonight, bunny.”

I turned in his arms, straddling his hips, and sank down onto his c**k in one slow, greedy motion. The stretch burned so perfectly after everything he had already done to me. A broken moan slipped from my lips as I took him to the hilt.

“f**k, Lena,” he hissed, his hands gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks. “Look at you. Still so f*****g greedy for this d**k even when you’re dripping with my load.”

I rolled my hips, riding him deep and deliberate, my palms braced on his scarred chest. “I can’t get enough of you,” I whispered, voice hoarse from screaming his name. “Every time you fill me up, I just want more. I want you to ruin me again.”

Anton’s eyes darkened. He sat up suddenly, one arm banding around my back to hold me flush against him while the other tangled in my hair. Our mouths crashed together in a messy, desperate kiss. He thrust up into me hard, meeting every roll of my hips, the wet slap of our bodies loud in the quiet room.

“That’s my dirty girl,” he rasped against my mouth. “Twenty-one years old and c**k-drunk for a thirty-eight-year-old biker who should know better. You love being my little cumslut, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, bouncing faster on his thick length. “I love it when you use me. When you f**k me like you own me.”

He flipped us without pulling out, pinning me beneath his powerful body. His hips snapped forward in a punishing rhythm, driving his c**k so deep I felt it in my stomach. The headboard slammed against the wall with every brutal thrust. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper.

“Harder, Anton. Please. I need it.”

He gave it to me. One hand wrapped around my throat, applying just enough pressure to make my head spin with pleasure. The other slid between us, his thumb rubbing tight, relentless circles over my swollen c**t. I was shaking, sobbing, my p***y clenching around him like it never wanted to let go.

“Come on, baby. Squeeze my c**k. Milk every drop out of me,” he growled, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my breasts. “I want to feel this tight little cunt come undone again. Show me who this p***y belongs to.”

I shattered hard, my orgasm ripping through me so violently my vision blurred. I screamed his name, nails raking down his back, drawing fresh blood over the old scars. Anton didn’t stop. He f****d me through it, growling filthy praise right in my ear.

“Good f*****g girl. That’s it. Soak my c**k. You’re mine, Lena. Only mine. No one else will ever know how sweet this cunt tastes or how perfect it feels wrapped around me.”

He pulled out suddenly, making me whine at the loss. Before I could protest, he flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and slammed back in from behind. The new angle hit even deeper. He fisted my hair, pulling my head back so he could bite down on my shoulder while he railed me.

“Tell me you love it when I breed you,” he demanded, spanking my ass sharply between thrusts.

“I love it,” I cried out, pushing back to meet every savage stroke. “I love when you pump me full.

I want your c*m leaking out of me for days. Own me, Anton. Ruin me for anyone else.”

His pace turned feral. The wet sounds of him pounding into my c*m-soaked p***y filled the room. He reached around again, pinching my c**t between his fingers, and I came a third time, screaming into the mattress. Anton followed right after with a deep, guttural roar, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me with another hot load. He kept grinding through it, like he wanted to push it as deep as possible.

We collapsed together, his heavy body covering mine, his c**k still twitching inside me. For a long minute the only sounds were our ragged breathing. He pressed soft kisses along my spine, a sharp contrast to the raw f*****g we had just shared.

“You wreck me,” he murmured against my skin, voice rough with emotion. “Every damn time, Lena. I don’t know how I lived without this. Without you.”

I turned my head, catching his mouth in a slow, tender kiss. “I’m yours. I’ve been yours since that first night.”

He stayed buried inside me, holding me close like he was afraid the world outside would steal me away again.

********

Three months earlier

I stood frozen in the kitchen, staring at the receipt in my hand. Seven words written in unfamiliar handwriting:

You were followed from Denton. Be careful.

My stomach twisted. The note wasn’t signed, but I had a feeling I knew who left it. Ghost had been watching me too closely. Or maybe it was Scout’s way of testing me. Either way, the fragile sense of safety I had started to build cracked.

I shoved the note deep into my pocket and went back to scrubbing the counters, trying to push the fear down. I had survived worse. I could survive this.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores. I kept my head down, avoided Ryder’s lingering stares, and tried not to think about the way Anton’s eyes had tracked me during breakfast.

By evening, the compound had settled into its usual rhythm. I was wiping down the last of the tables in the common room when the atmosphere shifted. Boots. Heavy. Multiple sets.

I looked up just as Anton walked in with Ghost and a few others. Their faces were grim. Something had happened.

“Church. Now,” Anton said, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made everyone move. His eyes flicked to me for a split second before he disappeared into the meeting room.

I finished my work quickly and retreated to my room above the garage. But sleep wouldn’t come. I sat at the small desk with my sketchbook, trying to draw the sharp lines of the compound fence, when a knock sounded at my door.

I opened it cautiously. Anton stood there, filling the doorway, his expression unreadable. Rain had started again outside, pattering against the metal roof.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low. I nodded, stepping back to let him in. He closed the door behind him but didn’t move further into the room.

“I heard there was an incident at the gate earlier,” I said carefully. “Is everything okay?”

His jaw tightened. “Rival crew testing us. Devil’s Disciples. They’ve been pushing into our territory for weeks. Nothing you need to worry about.”

But I could see it in his eyes. He was worried. About the club. About me.

He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell leather and rain on him. “You’re safe here, Lena. As long as you follow the rules.”

“I know,” I whispered. For a moment, something electric passed between us. His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face with surprising gentleness. Then he pulled his hand back like he had burned himself.

“Get some sleep,” he said roughly. “Lock the door.” He left before I could respond, leaving me with a racing heart and the growing certainty that Anton Cole was far more dang

erous to my heart than any rival MC.

The note in my pocket felt heavier than ever.