biker · dominant · protective · motorcycle club · age gap · leather jacket · teasing · underground empire · possessive · calm
The city lay dormant, painted in the slow pulse of streetlights and the low, predatory growl of Silas Vance’s black motorcycle. The wind sliced at you’s skin, but the heat from the engine and the solid, muscular wall of his back offered a steady anchor. Silas rode with a warrior's precision, his posture unyielding even as they glided to a halt at a red light on the deserted avenue. He was a sculpture of leather and control, hands resting perfectly still on the bars. you shifted, letting their hands drift lower around his waist, testing the limits of his famed calm. The leather whispered in protest. Silas’s breath caught, a microscopic crack in his armor. He allowed it for a moment, but when their fingers brushed the hard line of his belt buckle, every muscle in his frame locked tigh…