It Ain't Me, Babe

by Tillie Cole

  Wolf eyes widened as I pressed against her clit with my denim-covered cock, and Mae choked out a moan. “Styx! What? What? Ugh…” Her mouth dropped open and I leaned in to lick around the seams before sitting up and staring down at the most amazing sight I’d ever seen.

  Beautiful, stunning Mae all laid out for me to take.

  Her eyes cracked open at the loss of my weight and a tiny smirk tugged on her lips. She drank me in—every cut muscle, shredded arm, bulging vein, every inch of ink. She loved it, creamin’ at what she saw. I knew I looked good. That’s not arrogance; I worked hard and knew I was cut.

  My gaze dropped to her tits. I needed a taste. Before Mae knew what had happened, I latched onto her nipple, sucking, pulling at the hard flesh.

  “Ahh… Styx… That feels… so… Ahh…” I smiled against the soft skin, flicking my tongue back and forth, lapping on the sweet taste.

  After one tit was done, I moved on to the next, only increasing the pleasure. Fingers suddenly held on to my hair and pulled and clawed like a woman gone wild.

  I loved it, almost burst at every tug.

  I needed in.

  Sitting back, Mae aggressively fisted the black silk sheet. “Styx… I need… I need… Ah! What is it I need? I feel… I feel… on fire… I cannot stand it.”

  A satisfied grin spread across my lips as I watched her writhe for me. Yeah, she fuckin’ needed it, needed me.

  I shifted down her body, my eyes looking down her stomach to her pussy. Her bare, wet pussy. “Fuck, b-babe. You’re goddam p-perfect.”

  I stroked along the inner side of her thigh, still nipping at her tit. “I’m g-gonna get you ready with my f-fingers. Then I’m g-gonna eat this pussy u-until you cream in my m-mouth. Then, wh-when you c-can’t take no m-more, I’m g-gonna fill y-you up with m-my cock until y-you scream, so fuckin’ loud.”

  “Styx… please…”

  My middle finger ran along her pussy lips, her legs widening to let me in. I then pushed it in and watched as her head threw back with a long moan, hands over her head, gripping onto the head of the bed.

  I picked up speed, skirting across that fuckin’ sweet spot that I knew would make her lose her mind. Her toes curled and she squealed, bright eyes flashing at me. “What… what was that?”

  “Th-that, b-babe, is what real f-f-fuckin’ should feel like.”

  “Oh… Again… please…” she asked breathlessly.

  Adding a second finger, her hips rocking faster now, I lifted the plunging digit to search for her release.

  “Styx… I need… I need… Ahh…” I knew what she needed, what she was begging for, so taking my thumb, I pressed the pad against her clit, rubbing in hard circles, and fuck, she went off like a damn firecracker. Her head turned and her scream muffled in the pillow she pressed against her mouth to mute the sound.

  Bringing her down, I slowly removed my fingers, making sure she watched as I licked along each digit. Gripping her bent knees, I lowered my head. I needed to taste her more than I needed to breathe. But as I moved in and focused on my target, I stopped.

  Scars. Lots of fuckin’ scars.

  Slowly, and trying to stay calm, I moved back, sitting on my haunches, just staring down. Mae shifted up on her elbows, alarmed.

  “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

  My fists clenched and I breathed in deep through my flared nostrils. I knew I probably looked like the devil incarnate, but I was seething—fuckin’ scars! Beauty had said as much. Mae must have been tortured for years, raped for years, and I jump on her like a beast at the first chance.

  Christ. I was no better than those rapists at her cult.

  I felt sick, a hungover-as-fuck sick feeling in the very pit of my stomach.

  “Styx? Please… what did I do?”

  I shook my head as I realized I’d been staring at Mae’s thighs and met her worried gaze. She was beautiful. Even confused, she was stunningly gorgeous. Her skin was flushed from coming so hard, her black hair messy from rolling around in pleasure, but those wolf eyes… those wolf eyes were filling with tears, glossing more and more as she followed the path of my attention.

  With a cry, her thighs slapped shut and she scurried back against the headboard, her arms wrapping around her legs.

  “Wh-wh-wh-wh…?” Argh! Breathe. Loosen up. “Wh-what are they, Mae?”

  Her skittish eyes darted to everywhere but on me. “Nothing… they… they do not matter anymore.”

  “Well, th-they m-matter to me!” I boomed out, watching as she flinched at my tone.

  “Please… Styx…” she pleaded.

  “F-F-FUCK!” I jumped off the bed, grabbing my shirt off the floor and pulled it on.

  “Where are you going?” she asked frantically.

  “O-out.”

  “Are you angry at me?”

  Swinging round to face her, I groaned. That nose was twitching again and her small hands were beginning to shake as she pulled the black sheet over her naked body.

  “M-my cock’s hard as fuck, so y-yeah, I’m p-pissed, but I’m f-f-fucked off at myself by what we just d-did… Wh-wh-what I just d-did to you… F-f-fuck!”

  “Did what? Showed me pleasure?” She swallowed and curled in on herself, shielding her body from… What? Me? My rejection? Christ, if I knew.

  “You regret it?” she probed, her long hair falling forward to curtain and shield her face.

  One glimpse of her hurt expression nearly killed me. It wasn’t her, but I couldn’t get the words out to tell her. Never been one for letting people know my feelings. Not being physically able to speak for most of your damn life kinda makes you close in. The signs were there for my stammer about to break through, loud and fuckin’ proud—the suffocating clogging, the strangling tightness of my throat as I tried to think of something to say. My blood was pumping, pulse thumping, head spinning, and I needed to get the hell out of the room and away from Mae’s fuckin’ lost face. I wanted to tell her I shouldn’t have touched someone who’d been abused her whole life, that she deserved better, someone who had a whole bunch of jagged scars on her inner thighs where some fucked-up device had clearly wrenched them apart. CHRIST! But the goddamn words wouldn’t come. So I answered a clipped, thoughtless reply and instantly knew I’d completely fucked up in doing so.

  “I-I-It shouldn’t have h-happened.”

  With that perfect fuckin explanation, I left the room, feeling like a creepy bastard, but no matter how much I condemned myself, I was unable to shake the vision of Mae as she came.

  I was so fuckin’ hard but so fuckin’ mad.

  Bursting into the bar, most of the guys were gone, hounding the cops for intel or fuck knows what else. And, hell no, fuckin’ Dyson was pouring drinks.

  Storming straight over to her dyed-pink hair and fake tits, I slammed a fist on the bar top.

  She stumbled back, sensing my fury. “I c-came to see Tiff and Jules.” She said, lowering her gaze in an act of pure submission. “I heard what happened today and we all came to help out. Thought the guys would need pussy to take their mind off things. Thought they could use someone they were used to.”

  That answered my question as to where everyone was, shacked up in their rooms. The pussy cavalry had arrived and Christ knows a brother wanted nothing more than serving his dick after he’d just survived a shit storm of bullets flying at his vital organs.

  Damn manipulative slut. Dyson, the bitch who took my virginity at thirteen. Hell, she must’ve only been about sixteen herself at the time, come to think of it. Some underage runaway who found herself a home in a den of outlaws. The pink-haired junkie used the brothers for ice until she fed that shit to a newbie whore with some real fuckin’ potential. The bitch OD’d on the compound floor. Dyson was cast out after that by my old man, warned never to return. Of course, her lounge room sex shows were missed by the brothers, but no one wanted her for more than a blow job. Hence her name, Dyson: excellent suction and ball control.

  Reaching out and grabbin
g Dyson’s wrist, I pulled her forward, pointing at the exit door. Her bottom lip began to tremble and tears ran down her heavily made-up cheeks. The makeup hid years of acne scars.

  “What the hell’re you doing here?”

  I whipped around at the high-pitched shrill, only to see Beauty storming over to me and Dyson like a fuckin’ bull charging a rodeo clown. Dyson paled, as she should. Beauty may look like Goldilocks, but she is a fuckin’ Rottweiler in a terrier’s body. Dyson had made a move on Tank once and only once; Beauty didn’t appreciate the aggressive move on her turf. Dyson wore shades for two weeks, hiding the two black eyes Beauty had gifted her.

  Dyson swept her eyes between me and Beauty, fidgeting with her hands, head twitching, waiting for a rescue. Ah. It then struck me the reason she was back made complete sense. She was desperate for her next fix, hoping some brother would slip her some cash for meth.

  “I came to see Tiff and Jules,” Dyson answered unconvincingly, eyes shifty, trying to avoid our glares.

  “Don’t give a shit! Get-the-fuck-out! No one wants to see your skanky sex show no more!” Beauty stood almost nose to nose with Dyson, the tension building too high for my liking.

  Beauty— I signed, trying to calm her the fuck down. She thrust a palm in my face, the other hand gripping my fingers, silencing my voice.

  “Don’t, Styx! Don’t let the temptation of fuckin’ her rancid pussy again make you change your mind! Think of Mae. Get rid of the whoring bitch!”

  You know what, Beauty? I signed. I’m getting beyond pissed at you trying to tell me how to live my fuckin’ life.

  Beauty gasped. She was the only old lady I never had crossed words with. She was the only bitch I could tolerate for more than two minutes, and we were good. Hell, she even learned ASL for my sorry mute ass. But her letting her mouth go, to me, the Prez, needed to stop before she completely robbed me of my fuckin’ balls!

  I saw Dyson smirk. Quite honestly, I felt like wiping the evil grin off her face myself, but I just wanted to drink a fifth of whiskey and not picture Lois dead on the sandy ground, blood pooling beneath her, or Mae curled up crying in my bed, covered in rape scars. Pit, like he was reading my fuckin’ mind, slid a fifth of whiskey my way from behind the bar.

  Down went half and I could feel myself going numb. In my drunk-ass state, I noticed Beauty move to the end of the bar, keeping a close watch on Dyson.

  Ten minutes later, I wasn’t noticing much else.

  ***

  I could’ve sworn the five rivers of the underworld painted on the bar wall were on the move. They seemed to be swirling, but then again, the whole room had started to swim. Making an attempt to get up and off the barstool, I stumbled only for someone to prop me up by my arm: Dyson. Her eyelids hooded, lips frozen in a smirk and her hand reached for my cock.

  My drunk-ass body lurched to life and Dyson gripped onto my shirt and began dragging me to the hallway. The look my favorite blonde shot me from her position at the bar would have incinerated a lesser man on the spot.

  Dyson led me into the hallway, finding the darkest spot. Her smile was wide and she licked that fuckin’ talented tongue over her teeth. I needed this, needed to fuck all the rage outta my system—hard, rough fuckin’. Had to get Mae and her fucked-up scars outta my head before I lost it and went hunting for people to rip apart for fun. Needed to get Lois’s hurt face outta my eyes before the guilt tore me apart.

  Dyson reached up and ripped the top of her tank down to her waist. Her massive plastic tits popped out—no bra. Dyson’s eyes shone with arousal as she plucked and squeezed at her fuckin’ huge red nipples, groaning loudly, getting herself off.

  Dirty fuckin’ whore.

  Dropping one of her hands, Dyson lifted her skirt and slipped her finger against her clit. This was why the brothers craved her—the fuckin’ pre-fuck floorshow.

  The infamous Dyson special.

  I watched her grinding on her hand, squeezing her tits, almost coming at my fixed attention, but I felt… nothing. Not one fuckin’ spark. Yeah, I was still hard as fuck, but that was all Mae, all Wolf-Eyes in my mind, and the feel of her perfect little body beneath me, her perfect face, and… Fuck, I couldn’t do this. For the first time in my bastard life desire for another bitch stopped me from fuckin’ a slut.

  “Styx!”

  Dyson let out a long, satisfied squeal as she came like a pro, her smug face showing she thought I was getting off on her porn. She dropped to the floor, lunging forward, tearing aggressively at the zipper of my jeans. I reached down, gripping her wrists to push her away. Then I heard it; a whimper, a pain-filled fuckin’ whimper from my right.

  Even through my whiskey-brain I sensed who it was without even looking up.

  Turning slowly, I found Mae staring at me in shock, devastation written all over her face. She was dressed in a tight Hangmen tank, tight black jeans, with my cut swamping her tiny body. Fuck. She looked so damn hot.

  Dyson threw her head back and laughed, pulling me from gawking at Mae, my mind catching up to what Mae was seeing.

  “What, darlin’? You wanna a fuckin’ picture? Wanna watch us fuck?” The pink-haired bitch taunted Mae from her place on her knees, facing my—thankfully still covered—hard cock.

  I hauled Dyson back with my foot, her junkie ass slamming to the floor. I took a few hesitant, guilt-ridden steps toward Mae. Big fat tears fell from her wolf eyes and her hand slapped over her mouth, trying to stop the broken cry she couldn’t help but let loose. I tried to speak, but before I even had a chance to explain, Beauty and Letti burst through the doors, searching for the source of the wail.

  They immediately froze at the sight of me—in a dark corridor with Dyson on her knees, tits out… and to the side, Mae decked out in club gear and in my cut, sobbing into her hands.

  Could things have got any fuckin’ worse?

  “Mae! No. Don’t cry. Come with me, honey,” Beauty soothed, gently placing her arm ’round Mae’s shuddering shoulders. Beauty ushered Mae round the corner and outta my sight, my cut thudding onto the floor in their wake. Shit. Mae’d shed my fuckin’ cut.

  The chase was on. I set off stumbling, the room tilting on its side, only to be met by Letti’s renowned death stare. She stepped forward, cracking her knuckles at the slut on the floor. Dyson scurried back on her hands as the larger-than-life Samoan closed in.

  “Listen up, slut. You have ten seconds to get the fuck outta this club. I see you here again, I’ll shank you myself… and I’ll take my own sweet time. Comprendo?”

  Dyson looked at me, pleading for support. Fuck that! Jerking my chin, I nodded in the direction of the exit. Righting her clothes as she passed, the Hangmen’s biggest slut hightailed it outta the club.

  Letti glowered at me, shaking her head in disbelief.

  Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that. I ended it before y’all came crashing through, making this shit worse. Yeah, it looked bad, but I didn’t fuckin’ touch her. She didn’t even get to my cock, I signed.

  Letti looked like she didn’t want any excuses. Flipping me the bird, she turned on her heel and followed Beauty down the corridor.

  What a fuckin’ clusterfuck!

  Ky chose that moment to come ’round the corner, glancing at Letti as she made her prissy exit. “Styx, man! I’ve been looking all over for you. The psycho trio are back with their prize catch.”

  His eyebrows danced in excitement as he rubbed his hands, smiling. His triumphant smile quickly turned to a frown when he saw me leaning back against the wall, running my hand down my face, fixing my jeans.

  “What you done now?” he asked with a shit-eating smirk.

  Don’t fuckin’ ask. Now, where’s the fucker? He talking? I signed.

  “Nope. Not a damn peep.”

  Smiling a hungry smile, I signed, Perfect. Just what I need right now. Let’s go.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mae

  One hour earlier…

  I was a child when it happened. A tiny, innoce
nt child…

  “Salome, come with me.”

  “Where are we going, Sister?” I had asked, as Sister Eve took my hand and dragged me down the corridor from the safety of my room. Her hand had squeezed my hand so tightly that I recall feeling intense pain. For reasons I could not fathom at the time, Sister Eve would not look me straight in the eye.

  “You are to be taken to the great room.”

  The great room. I remember feeling my stomach churn on hearing those words. I had tried to resist Sister Eve, tried very hard to pull her to a stop. She had looked down at me and her pale eyes seemed to soften a touch. This was so strange that I had become anxious. Sister Eve did not like me, never had. I was a Cursed. One of the segregated sisters. There were four of us and she hated us all. Told us we were inherently evil. Born baring the original sin of Eve.

  “Why have you stopped, child?” she asked calmly, her cold voice devoid of any affection.

  “W-why am I to g-go to the g-great room?” I enquired in a shaky voice over which I had no control. I remembered Jezebel had been taken to the great room for the first time three years prior. She had not been the same since that day. She had changed; she became angrier, withdrawn, and colder. She never spoke about what happened. I even recall I asked Jezebel five times about it, but I was rebuffed on each occasion. She point blank refused to say a word to me or anyone else for that matter. Nevertheless, Jezebel went to the great room every time she had been summoned by Gabriel. She had no choice. Lilah had been the same several months prior when she had been called in too. Maddie and I had never understood why it changed them so. But I knew at that point I was about to find out.

  “You are of age now, Salome. You must do your duty as a sister.” Sister Eve sighed loudly and bent down from her tall height to meet my eyes. “I will not lie to you, Salome. Today will be a very strange and uncomfortable experience for you, but it must happen. You have reached the appropriate age. There is no way around it.”

  “What will happen? What am I old enough for?” I had asked.

  Sister Eve simply stood back up and tugged me until I again fell into step. I tried to ask more questions. But Sister Eve refused to answer. She would not listen to me. After many more vain attempts to obtain information, I had reluctantly fallen silent and dutifully followed her to the great room.