Kinktober 2024

【 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑛 】

〖 𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒 〗: 𝐵𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑟

〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Your parents told you to never accept rides from strangers, but what if that stranger is hot and twice your age?

〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, older!Sam, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pull-out method, there's only one bed, sam calls reader 'princess'

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You hear him before you see him. The loud rumble of his engine vibrates the air around you, ripping you out of your thoughts. Your hand falls to your side as you watch the motorcycle roll to a stop beside you. You instinctively take a step back, eyeing the man on the bike. His rough-around-the-edges look matches the worn leather jacket and confident smirk he wore.

"Need a ride, princess?" he calls over the hum of the engine.

Your gaze shifts between the man in front of you and the motorcycle between his thighs. The dark clouds looming overhead appear more ominous by the second and you weigh your options.

He's older than you with stubble littering his cheeks and neck. The tell-tale ink of a tattoo peeks out of the collar of his jacket, and you find yourself craning your neck to figure out what it is.

"C'mon, I won't bite," he urges, a grin tugging at his lips, "unless that's your thing."

Your eyes narrow, "That's not very reassuring."

"Sam," he introduces himself, chuckling a little as he holds out a hand for you to take.

His palm is warm but calloused in your hand as you shake it briefly. His fingers completely envelop your hand, and you use the opportunity to take a closer look at him. His nose is crooked like it's been broken more times than he could count, and tufts of brown hair stuck out from under his helmet.

Something about him is magnetic, and you find yourself climbing onto the back of his bike, your fingertips slightly digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders.

Rain begins to fall as he pulls away from the spot where you stood just moments ago, and you let out a yelp as he revs his engine, rapidly picking up speed. You wrap your arms around his waist, and the taunt muscles of his abdomen jump under your fingers.

The rain quickly shifts from a light drizzle to a downpour, and you lean against Sam, soaking up his warmth. He finally spotted a roadside motel, the neon vacancy sign barely visible through the rain. He pulls into the parking lot, killing the engine before the both of you dismount. You make a beeline for the front office, desperate to get out of the rain.

Sam is quick to follow you, clutching a bag in one hand and his helmet in the other. He shakes out his hair as he joins you at the front desk.

"What do you mean you only have one room?" you question the clerk incredulously, shivering in your rain-soaked clothes.

The clerk shrugs, "It's the busy season."

"We're in the middle of nowhere," you argue.

"We'll take it," Sam cuts in, giving the clerk a placating grin.

You narrow your eyes as the clerk drops the key into your open palm. You clench your fist around the metal as you lead Sam up the creaky steps to a small room facing the rain-streaked road.

"Well," Sam says as he enters the room, tossing his bag onto one of the chairs and tugging off his jacket, "it's not the Ritz but it'll do."

You snort, attempting to ignore the way his shirt clings to his shoulders. You take in your sparsely decorated surroundings, eyeing the singular bed in the middle of the room.