Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 267

Cloe POV

I have seen enough of men’s bodies to know what they look like, and Storm’s was big. I had blanked out those memories, not wanting to remember those nightmares, so this was my first real time of seeing one up close.

His shaft texture was a contradiction. I had no clue what it would have felt like, but it was not this.

Then the beading of what Storm called precum, a small sample of what was to arrive when he reached his climax, does my moisture look like this I wanted to ask, but thought it might spoil the mood, so I might look it up online. I am so clueless with all of this. I had no reason to be interested before. I knew about it, I had heard my sister being with my Dad, and that was so gross, all it did was make my stomach churn, and the first time I heard them together, I did vomit, I was so disgusted. They thought I didn’t know, acted all innocent and careful, but they forgot to shut the door one night, and I got to hear their episode, before Mia snuck back to her room.

‘Stop it, I yelled at myself, internally, don’t bring their disgusting act into my moment of discovery. This can be something so beautiful, don’t bring filth into it.

I pulled the head of his shaft closer. Another bead of pre-cum had formed. I leaned in, licked his top, tasting the moisture there; it hadn’t changed; it still had a salty, something-l-could n’t-name taste. I sucked in the tip till the whole knob was in my mouth, my lips stretching to their limit. I am not sure I could get much of his length in my mouth; the girth was too thick and the shaft too long for my mouth to take him all in. Pulled out the end, and using my teeth, ran down his length, testing, tasting, feeling with my lips and hands on his shaft, the outer layer was a soft cushion for the harder inside of it. I kept telling myself it was just a muscle, but it didn’t act like any muscle I’d ever known.

Snaked my hand down to touch his balls and gave them a small squeeze, then I rolled them in my hand, feeling the ball inside the sack. Nothing could have prepared me for what a man’s genitalia felt and tasted like. I never gave it much thought till now. It was so much softer than I predicted.

I slide my hand up and down his shaft, lean in to lick and bite it, testing, tasting, feeling the reactions I get from each different thing I do. The shaft pulsed often. I didn’t jump each time. Now, I found myself trying combinations of licks, bites, pulling on his ball sacks, running my hand up and down, to see what made it pulse, and tried to make it do it again. Storm’s hands fisted my hair, almost painfully, but that spurred me on to try more

“I am close; if you don’t want a face full of my fluids. I suggest you move back.” He growled out through gritted teeth.

He didn’t stop when I reached my end, so I won’t give up on him. He squirted on my face, and I placed my mouth over the end and tasted a less salty mixture. I thought there would be a lot, and was surprised that it wouldn’t even be half a cup. Why I thought there would be a lot, I didn’t understand. Storm was out of breath, like he had just run a marathon, after he screamed out my name and fisted my hair tighter, which was painful, as I accepted his fluids in my mouth, licking him clean, and then chuckled to myself because we are in the shower, and I didn’t need to do that, but was glad I had.

Storm took over, washing himself first, then, with his large hands, ever so gently washed me with a kind of reverence and care. I felt like a treasured princess, being pampered and loved.

Loved?

Was that what this was?

I had never really had love since my mother died, and her love was the nurturing kind that mothers give; this was different, and regardless of what label I could place on it, I liked being the recipient and wanted more. I let Storm do what he wanted, before he turned the taps off, and wrapped me in a towel, carried me to the bed, and left to grab a towel for himself, returning with one around his waist and drying his hair and beard with another.

His eyes sparkled with a sort of joy. I had never seen this look in his eyes before, but it looked good on him, and I hoped I was the cause of it. He moved closer to me, pulled my head onto his belly, and started to dry my long hair. Strong fingers massaged my scalp, and a groan escaped my throat before I could stop it.

Sick, sick bastaards, I can’t stand them. This was not the first time Dad had done this to me, and won’t be the last. He wanted me to see exactly what I had to look forward to.

I had to escape, get away from here. The next show and shine was in a town big enough to get lost in. I needed to run before he could make that threat! I got to get away.

“You’re safe. Babe, come back to me. I have you.” A deep voice echoed in my ear, warmth filled my cold body, and I felt safe, as the nightmare slowly receded and I flicked my eyes open. I was staring at Storm’s worried eyes. I must have rolled over to face him at some time, and he was drawing small circles on my back, kissing my forehead, trying to coax me back to him.

“Hey, want to talk about it? I thought we had something special last night, not a trigger.” He sounded sad and hurt.

“Bad memory, not your fault. I loved the shower. Maybe in the light of day, I will talk about it.” I yawned as Storm lifted his head, waited for the yawn to be over, and kissed me, nothing too passionate; it was like he knew not to take it too far!

“Sleep, tomorrow, we’ll talk.” I didn’t want to, but maybe sharing some of this might help him understand. I still don’t understand my sister, and what she was doing, but maybe that was why she was his favourite, he must have sold her and got a lot of money, and now it was my turn to pay up for him looking after me all these years, I was a saleable commodity.