Biker Outlaw's Princess: An MC Romance

by Bella Rose

  Vasily talked with his hands. Each time he illustrated a point or emphasized something, he would make an automatic gesture. I could not stop watching the graceful length of his fingers. Then my brain would automatically slide toward what it might feel like to have those same fingers trailing soft fire across my abdomen. He could touch my breasts, circle my nipples, and then dip lower toward my belly.

  “I don’t see how you teach middle school kids anything,” Vasily said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I know I was completely hopeless at that age.”

  “I’m not sure I can even imagine you at that age,” I replied. “Did you go to school here in the area?”

  “No.” His voice grew almost vague. “It was in another district.”

  “Did you move here recently, then?” I realized I knew almost no details about him, and yet I’d told him almost everything about myself. “You sound Russian.”

  “Yes.” He nodded his head. “Although with a name like Romanov, you must be Russian as well.”

  “Ah yes.” I rolled my eyes. “Every year I have at least half a dozen students who want to know if I’m related to the ill-fated and now infamous Anastasia.”

  “And are you?” His eyes were positively sparkling.

  “Isn’t that a question for the ages?” I murmured, realizing that he had once again turned the conversation back to me. It was sort of odd really. There was something congenial and yet commanding in his way of speaking. It reminded me strangely of the book I had picked up in the library.

  “I can tell you one thing about myself as a middle schooler,” he said in a confiding tone of voice. “I would have been out of my head for a teacher that looked like you.”

  I drew back in surprise. “Is that right?”

  He seemed to scoot closer to me, though I could not actually see him move. “Yes. You would have been the sort of teacher I fantasized about every night when I went to bed and every morning when I woke up.”

  That should have creeped me out. At least I think it should have. But it was strangely flattering. The guy was telling me that he thought I was worthy of fascination. It was—well, it was exciting coming from him.

  I swallowed back my nerves. “And what about now? Would the grown-up version of Vasily think that his history teacher was still hot?”

  “Absolutely,” he murmured in that satin-covered rumble of his. “I would fantasize about you day and night.”

  “What sort of fantasies would you have?” I could hardly catch my breath to speak. My chest was heaving, and I felt light-headed.

  He cocked his head, looking more than a little bit like a wicked boy. “I think I would have to start with the undressing.”

  “The undressing?”

  “Every man wants to see a woman take her clothes off for him.”

  “Why?” I swallowed, but my throat was dry and my tongue felt too big for my mouth.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Because it shows a certain amount of desire. And maybe just a little bit of playfulness. A man likes to know that his woman is feeling willing and playful.”

  “He does?” What was I asking here? How ridiculous! And yet I could not stop myself from continuing on. “So are you talking about a striptease? Or just yanking off my clothes—I mean, her clothes.”

  He chuckled. The sound was as low and dark as rich chocolate. He’d caught my slipup. I knew he had. I didn’t care. He pointed to me. “Why don’t you find out?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I suggested that you find out for yourself what the best way to strip for a man might be. I’m sitting here. I’m a man. You’re a woman. You’re wearing clothes. Try taking them off. If you hurry it up, does it feel sexy? Or does it feel better to turn and look at the man while you very carefully unbutton each button and slide your blouse down your arms?”

  Now I was really having difficulty breathing. I should be telling him hell no. I wasn’t interested in any of this. Yet there was a big part of me that wanted to know. If I did as he said, would he want me? Would I be able to attract this gorgeous sex god? Or would I just fall flat the way I had a thousand times before with other men in other situations?

  “Okay.” I stood up. “I want to try.”

  “Good.” He did not flinch. It was almost as if he had expected me to volunteer for this. Was I that predictable, or was he that good?

  Vasily

  My brain kept saying that this had been too easy, and yet that wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t easy. Anya wasn’t easy. There was something simmering between us that made this an inevitable conclusion to this evening’s events. I could not have named what it was, but there was a connection between Anya and me that defied the parameters of normal and caused the primal voice inside me to declare emphatically that this woman was mine and always had been.

  She stood up. I could tell that she was uncomfortable, but that was more instinct that anything else. Not a bit of her apprehension showed in her expression. The woman had bedroom eyes. There was no doubt about that. Those baby blues were heavy lidded and sexy as hell. The combination of blue eyes and long black hair was killer. Especially since the first thing she did when she stood up was to unfasten the clip and let her hair fall around her shoulders like a silken wave.

  I swallowed back a groan and tried to act like a grown man and not a randy boy. It barely worked. Then she gently touched the buttons on her blouse. She unfastened them one by one, slowly exposing the round creamy tops of her breasts. Her bra was white satin. The innocence of that was in direct contrast to the heated look of desire in her eyes.

  Her blouse fell down over her shoulders, and she shrugged it off. Gently holding it with one finger, she raised an eyebrow and gave me the sassiest glance any woman could give a man. Then she tossed that blouse right at my head. I could not help but laugh as I caught it and laid it over the end of the couch. I liked her spirit. I certainly wasn’t going to quash it just yet.

  Then she turned on her heel and put her back to me. My mouth went dry as I took in every inch of that soft skin. She was so perfect. And when she reached up and unzipped the rear fastening of her skirt, I realized that I had unleashed some kind of vixen. She shimmied that garment right down over her round backside and generous hips. It landed on the floor, and she kicked it aside with a nimbly pointed toe.

  Her panties were the same white satin as that bra. And when she reached up between her shoulder blades to unfasten her bra strap, I thought I might die of straight-up lust. I wanted to see those breasts badly. I had seen them clothed. I had a pretty good idea of how gorgeous they were. But the reality was going to be so much better than my fantasies ever could have been.

  “Show me,” I ordered.

  She did not hesitate. In fact, the way she followed my command made me believe that she had indeed been meant just for me. Turning around, she dropped the arm she had been using to hold up her bra. The cups fell away, and her breasts swung free. The full globes were perfection. A pale pink nipple topped each heavy mound. As I watched, they hardened into points that crowned her puckered areolae. I longed to take them each in my mouth and suck until she was begging me for more.

  “Lie down,” I told her. My voice sounded rough, but I didn’t care. None of that mattered right now. “Lie down and spread your legs for me. Show me your pussy.”

  She did exactly as I told her. There was no hesitation in her. She gently lowered herself to the rug and propped her weight on her elbows. Then she spread her knees for me. She was still wearing panties. I could see the wet spot in the soft glow of the lights in her living room.

  “I’m going to take those pretty panties off,” I told her. “I don’t want you to move. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  I loved her immediate response almost as much as I loved how eager she seemed for me to take her underwear off. When she was fully naked, I enjoyed the sight of her perfectly positioned on the floor. My cock was hard, and the blood was pumping furiously through my body, but I knew what I wanted most of all. At
least for now.

  “Touch yourself,” I ordered. “I want to see your fingers in your pussy. Show me what you like. Show me what you do when you’re alone. I want to know, Anya.”

  She whimpered, but she did not disobey. She placed two fingers against her pussy and slipped them into her wet folds. The sound of her fingers sliding against her sex filled the room. She was so swollen with arousal. Her sweet flesh glistened with the juices spilling from her opening. She was so wet and so ready that I could watch her opening flex and buck with each brush of her fingers against the distended hood of her clit. It was erotic beyond endurance, and yet I did not want the torture to stop.

  Her moans filled the room. She straddled her clit with her second and third fingers and began making tiny circles around it. She rubbed the pads of her fingers against her opening and then returned to her clit. She continued this way until I could see her poised on the edge of orgasm.

  There had never been a sight as beautiful as the one she made. Her legs were open, her thighs smeared with her own cream and her pussy wet and ready to climax for my viewing enjoyment. I touched her knee, and she opened her eyes.

  “I’m going to put my fingers in you,” I told her softly. “I want to feel how hard you come. Understand?”

  She seemed unable to answer. All she could do was whimper and moan. I pushed two fingers inside her pussy. She was so damn tight I thought she might break them off. Then I felt her inner muscles quiver. She uttered a high-pitched wail, and I felt her pussy melt all over my hand. The shocking sensation was followed by her undulating muscular contractions as she had a hard orgasm right there in my hand, all because I had told her that’s what I wanted.

  Chapter Five

  Anya

  I was going to hell. That was the only possibility. At least if I was going to go down in flames, I would be well satisfied while I was doing it. My body was so alive. I’d never felt that way before. Not just desire, but something dark and primal. It felt as though I could not breathe without Vasily, and I had only just met him! My logical mind knew that it made no sense, and yet something deep inside me was beyond that point.

  “Go to your room and wait for me there.” The order came in a low voice tinged with such a deep layer of power that I could not even imagine arguing.

  I got up off the floor and turned toward my bedroom without even looking at him. Perhaps in that moment I couldn’t look at him. The emotions I felt were still too raw. I didn’t want him to see that written all over my face. It would have made me feel so—exposed. So I retreated to my bedroom.

  It was almost as if every one of my senses was on high alert. He was still out in the living room, but I could hear him moving around. I heard the rustle of his pants and the muted thump as his boots hit the floor one by one. Each noise sent my blood pressure skyrocketing until I was sure I would jump out of my skin.

  I lay down on my bed and tried not to pass out as all the blood rushed to my head. The room swam a little and then came sharply into focus. Blood surged through my veins, and I felt the most delicious sense of eagerness for what was going to happen. Of course, I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was pretty sure I was going to like it.

  Then I heard Vasily walking into my bedroom. The old wood floors creaked as he moved. The gentle sound was in direct contrast to the rising flood of hormones surging through my body. By the time Vasily reached the bedside, I was practically heaving for each breath.

  “Calm down,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “I’m not afraid,” I said quickly. I wanted to be certain he knew this. “I’m nervous. They’re two different things.”

  “What are you nervous about?”

  The question was so mundane. It sounded as if we were talking about something completely unrelated to having sex with what amounted to a stranger. I took a deep breath and tried to verbalize what I was feeling. It wasn’t easy. “I’m nervous because I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  Where had that come from? Talk about full disclosure. I’d just bared my soul out here, and I could only pray that he didn’t hand it back to me with a heaping dose of ridicule.

  But he didn’t. Instead, Vasily reached out and very gently touched my arm. He stroked the soft skin and ran his fingers over my bicep and down toward my elbow and then my wrist. The tender touch was so not what I was expecting. Yet it calmed me in ways that nothing else could have. My heart steadied, my breathing evened out, and as he continued stroking me from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders, I grew almost drowsy with enjoyment.

  “You’re so soft,” he told me. The timbre of his voice was pleasing to the ear.

  My bedroom was near dark inside. The only light came from the living room lamps spilling in through the doorway. That meant Vasily was just a shadowy form to me. I could see no detail of his face or his form. There was nothing but his touch and the sound of his voice.

  “I love the way you react for me, Anya. Your body tells me what you’re feeling.”

  I wasn’t sure how that was possible exactly since I wasn’t moving, but I let it go. Why argue when I was getting the most lovely massage? Then his hands drifted to my belly. He touched my abdomen, circling my breasts and spiraling in until he had drawn my nipples into tight points. I panted a little and arched my back.

  “Do you want more?” The sound of his voice came from far away, as though through a tunnel.

  “Please!” I moaned the word, barely getting it out.

  He grasped my breast and squeezed. Blood rushed into the nipple, and a deep ache developed between my legs. The stimulation was both pleasure and pain. It was delicious torture, and I didn’t want it to stop.

  He repeated the same torment on my other breast, finally lowering his mouth to taste my nipple. He sucked hard and then bit down. I nearly leaped off the mattress as the sharp feeling made me gasp with shock.

  Vasily only laughed. “You like that, do you?”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. It was painful, yet it was also pleasurable. Perhaps the line between the two was a little hazier than I had once thought. But there was no more time to think about it when Vasily suddenly pushed his fingers into the cleft of my pussy and brushed over the top of my clit.

  It was as if he had electrocuted me. The instant electricity shot through my body and all the way to the ends of my fingers and toes. It was incredible! I felt my inner muscles clench tightly with need. If Vasily didn’t put his cock inside me soon, I was afraid I couldn’t be responsible for my behavior.

  Vasily

  I wanted Anya so badly that I thought my cock was going to explode. Every ounce of my blood was rushing to my groin, and all I could do for the moment was enjoy the sensation of touching this incredibly responsive woman. She was a dream come true. Each reaction was bold and honest. It was as if there was no fear in her whatsoever.

  I gently kissed her belly, working my way down to her mound. I could smell the heady feminine aroma of her pussy, and I felt my mouth watering. Tasting her would be heaven, but tonight I needed to fuck. I wanted to bury my cock inside her hot body and mark her as my own. There was something primal and fierce about that sensation, and I could not deny it. This woman was mine, and I needed to let the world know it.

  Placing my knee on the bed, I lifted her knees and spread them wide. Her thighs quivered beneath my hands. I used my palm to smooth a trail down the insides of both legs. I paused at the sensitive skin behind her knee, and she shivered. Then I began to inch back up toward her crotch. I knew she was wet. I could smell it. But that did not prepare me for the sweet creamy reality of her pussy. When I spread that bounty with my fingers, I almost growled my satisfaction. This was what I had wanted—what I had always wanted. A woman who would respond to me with no holds barred.

  I grasped the shaft of my cock in one hand and held myself steady. Then I fit the end of my cock to her tight little opening. She was going to be hot and snug, and I was going to be lucky if I lasted two seconds once
I was buried within her. I went slow, not wanting to split her in half. Still, I heard her gasp as I penetrated her in one long, smooth thrust.

  “Vasily!” she cried out, her hands closing around my biceps as she held tight.

  I didn’t stop. How could I? I needed to be inside her. Inch by agonizing inch until I felt my balls bump up against her ass. Then I paused for just a moment to let her adjust. My little vixen was having none of that. She began to squirm beneath me. Her inner muscles bore down on my cock, and she thrust her breasts into the air.

  I reached down and gave each of her nipples a tug and a twist. The attention seemed to distract her from what I was doing with my cock. She stilled, and then she arched her back hard. The new position sent my cock skidding against that sweet pad of muscle just inside her entrance. I felt her tremble and knew she was close. So was I. Each stroke I made only pushed me higher.

  I backed out and then thrust home again. Over and over I did this until my balls were tight beneath me and rivulets of sweat ran down my naked chest. I needed her so badly. I needed to come inside her. I needed to know she was mine.

  Her whimpers echoed off the bedroom walls. They rang in my ears. I shut my eyes and began slamming my cock into her body. She met me with each thrust, only asking silently for more. Her body surrendered to mine. I felt her inner muscles begin to tighten around my shaft. My climax burned at the base of my spine, and I knew that I was almost there. No time. There was no time to wait.

  I opened my eyes and stared down at this stranger who was my lover. “Come for me, Anya. Now. Give me what I want.”

  And just like that her body convulsed into a powerful orgasm. The muscles in her haunches tightened. Contractions ripped through her pussy, and her belly grew taut as she came hard and just for me.

  The satisfaction was unmatched. I came instantly. I poured my cum into her welcoming heat. Leaning over her, I surged hard against her cleft and gave her everything I had. I held nothing back and marked her with everything that was in me. I wanted no question as to who this woman belonged to. After tonight she was mine. She would always be mine. There was no question in my mind about it.