Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

by Manda Mellett

  “But they’ll be so frightened.”

  “Worrying about it won’t help. Here…” I turn her around so she’s facing me. “You need to let it go for tonight.” My hands move down to the hem of her t-shirt, my intention clear. “Let me help take your mind off it.”

  She lets me slide her shirt off, raising her arms to make it easier for me, and doesn’t complain as I remove her bra. “I don’t think you can, Heart.”

  “Trust me.”

  Undoing her zip, I push down her jeans, automatically her feet lifting as I kneel and slip her shoes off, then remove the rest of her clothes. Placing a kiss to her mound, she shivers, showing she’s not immune to my touch, even if her head’s still elsewhere. I want her to stop thinking, to switch off, cease worrying about things over which she has no control.

  Standing, I pull my own shirt over my head, then take a scarf from my back pocket and raise it to her face.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m gonna blindfold you.”

  Her head tilts in question, and I just wait. Then she nods, clearly curious. “Never done this before.”

  “Trust me,” I repeat. Not telling her this is a first for me too, but Slick had some good pointers.

  When her sight’s taken away, I guide her to the bed. “Lie down, babe. Put your hands over your head and keep them there, okay?”

  Goosebumps appear on her skin, but it’s not from the cold, as she gives a little laugh.

  “You haven’t got your handcuffs with you, have you babe?”

  She gives a shake of her head and a surprised giggle now. Fuck, that’s a good sound. She’s getting into this now.

  I take my time just looking at her body. She’s in amazing shape, obviously keeps herself fit, not an ounce of fat on her, her muscles clearly defined. A perfect hourglass shape, her waist I could span with both hands. Her stomach, for the moment so flat, but which will soon grow with the babies she’s carrying, is marred by old scarring, which does nothing to detract from her beauty. Her gorgeous breasts, are thrust out by the position of her arms, and so tempting.

  My cock throbs just at the sight, but I keep my jeans on for now. This is for her.

  She wriggles, uncomfortable with the delay. I smile and swap the item I’m holding from hand to hand. I’d found a feather on the track up to the suite, and I make good use of it now. Her body jolts as I circle it around her breasts, teasing the nipples so lightly it barely touches her.

  “Heart?”

  Then I move it down her stomach, gently moving it down, for a second tracing those silvery scars, then evading the place where she most wants me to go, moving it down her right leg, and then the left. Taking it off her skin for a second, I then stroke the sole of one of her feet. Smartly she pulls up her leg.

  “Ticklish?” I grin.

  “Just a bit,” she agrees.

  Judging by her reaction that’s an understatement, but I move on to the next stage. Taking my knife out of its sheath, I warn her. “Stay very still, babe.” Now it’s the cold metal of the sharp blade gently tracing her skin, not pressing enough for it to hurt, just skimming her lightly.

  “What the fuck, Heart?”

  She’s fighting to obey me, her body tensing in her effort not to move. Her concentration on the implement I’m using, and thank fuck, not the thoughts in her head. Now I’m using both the knife and the feather, alternating the sensations so she doesn’t know what’s coming next. I slide the knife up between her breasts and rest it against her fragile neck, while at the same time lightly circling her clit with the feather.

  Hardly daring to breathe, she doesn’t know whether to react to the arousing touch or the threat. I take both implements away and leave her not knowing what’s coming next.

  Silently I go to the fridge, open the freezer and take out an ice cube. She’s still, her whole body flushing as she waits. When her arms start to come down, I bark out, “Don’t move.”

  Melting ice in my mouth, I lower my head and put my lips on her. She gasps at the cold touch on her clit. My hands grab her hips to stop her pulling away and use my cold tongue to roll the ice against that sensitive button. Fuck it if she’s not wetter than I’ve seen her before, her arousal weeping from her cunt.

  “Oh my God, Heart,” she cries.

  I plunge two fingers inside her, curling them around to find that soft spot inside while licking and nipping her clit, which doesn’t seem to know whether to evade the cold touch or come out to play. At the same time, I pinch first one nipple, and then the other. Her thighs trap my head, her body tightens, and she writhes as she tries to push against me when my touch is too light, pulling away when I firm it. But I’m in control.

  “Keep your hands where they are.” I rumble another warning, suspecting she’s about to disobey.

  The vibration of my voice, together with my tongue and fingers, has her tensing up, and then she can’t hold back.

  “Heart, I’m…”

  I pull away. “Stay still.” I move the knife back.

  Immediately the cold steel touches her. She stills, but is unable to control the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her fair skin is covered with a sheen of sweat.

  “What are you doing?”

  What I’m doing is trying to remove any thought in her head other than what I might be doing next. Dropping the knife, I pull her up with both arms and turn her over. “Head to the bed, babe.” I pull her ass into the air. I spank one cheek, and then the other, my cock jumping as I see the red imprint of my hand.

  “Fuck it, Heart.”

  She starts turning her head, but I spank her again.

  “Heart…”

  If she tells me to stop, I will. “Go with it, babe.”

  I’m not hitting hard enough to bruise, just to arouse her. My hand meets her ass again and again. And fuck me if she doesn’t start leaning toward me. When my hand reaches the point it’s starting to sting, and her buttocks are glowing red, and she’s panting and squirming on the bed, I part her legs and slap her straight on her clit.

  She’s so aroused she comes with a scream.

  I hold my breath, hoping there’ll be no sound coming from the other room. But luckily Amy stays sleeping.

  While she’s recovering, I take off my jeans. She’s dripping wet, and so swollen from her orgasm I have to work my way in. Having this independent woman giving me total control is a massive turn on, and my cock seems to have grown twice its normal size.

  I start with slow strokes, ramping up both my own arousal and hers. She’s close, thank fuck, because I’m not going to be able to last long. With one hand on her nipple, and the other rubbing her clit, I pick up the pace and start hammering in, feeling that tingling down my spine and the tightening in my balls as she clenches around me.

  As she orgasms again, my thrusts lose their rhythm, a few last punishing strokes as I empty myself in the cunt of my old lady.

  Fuck, does it get any better than this?

  She’s collapsed onto the bed. As I spoon around her, gently removing the blindfold and pulling her back against my chest, she’s totally relaxed.

  “Hmm, Heart. What the fuck was that?” Her voice sounds slurred as if she’s on the edge of sleep.

  “Just getting you out of your head, babe.”

  I get no response as I smile against her hair. Thank you, Crystal, for bringing us together.

  The wind outside blows up, and the windows gently rattle in their frame, and I swear I hear a whispered, “Be happy, Heart,” before the sound, as quickly as it started, dies away.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Marc…

  If I’d been asked, I would have said with everything swirling around my head, I wouldn’t have slept a wink last night. Instead, I don’t stir until it’s morning. As I turn over in the arms of my man, I realise my ass is feeling sore, and I start to remember exactly what he did to me. I’m not ashamed to admit how much I enjoyed every single thing he did. While normally I’d prefer to be a more active partici
pant, he’d given me precisely what I’d needed last night, the chance to turn off my thoughts. But now, along with the light of day, they all come flooding back.

  He’s staring at me with a slightly amused smile on his lips. “You okay, babe?”

  “More than okay.”

  “Hey,” his hand touches my cheek, “what’s that frown for?”

  I rub my hands over my flat stomach. “Before I came here, Heart, I was feeling queasy in the mornings. I was sick a couple of times. But now…”

  “Babe, some people don’t get morning sickness at all, and it’s still early days. If you’re worried, we can go back to the doctor. But you’ve got no bleeding or pain, have you? Just go with the flow. If you’re not feeling sick, view it as a good thing.”

  “I know it seems crazy, but if I were suffering, I’d feel more like I was pregnant.”

  He reaches over the side of the bed and pulls his wallet out of his jeans, takes something out and passes it to me, his hand curling around mine so I end up clutching it. “This says you are, babe. Concrete evidence.” It’s the sonogram picture.

  How is it that this man knows exactly what to say and do?

  He slaps my already sore backside, making me jump. “Come on, get up now. Already had a text from the prez. Church at eleven, and you’ve got an invite.”

  “Invite or instruction?”

  “Take it whichever way you want, darlin’, but if I were you, I’d be there.”

  Nothing would stop me. “Where are Amy and Grunt?”

  “You were sleeping, so I didn’t want to wake you. Jayden’s got Amy, and Tongue, fuck knows why, wanted to take the dog for a walk. Reckon the pup’s already picked up a few fans here.”

  Two hours later, I’m taking the same seat as last time, greeted with a few chin lifts and even a couple of smiles. As the brothers come in and the chairs become filled, Hyde walks in with another and we all shift along to make room. Drummer’s the last to enter, and he’s not alone.

  The stranger is a dark-haired man, his most striking feature a scar running down his face from the corner of one eye to the side of his mouth. If it wasn’t for that, he’d be quite handsome. As it is, he looks terrifying.

  That the men know him is confirmed by the nods they give to him. That his presence is a surprise is shown by uplifted eyebrows and tilting of heads.

  “I don’t need to introduce Devil to most of you. Devil, meet Marcia, she’s an ex-cop who was working on the kids’ disappearances.” The man gives me a nod before taking the seat beside me. “Devil flew in overnight after I filled him in on our little problem.”

  With a slap on Devil’s shoulder, Drummer walks around to take his seat at the head of the table. All eyes go to him and then swing in the other direction as it’s the newcomer who starts talking without preamble.

  “As I’ve already told Drummer, I don’t see how you can avoid involving the FBI. Though after what happened last time, I understand why you’re not enamoured of the idea.” His voice is cultured, and he’s got a UK English accent. I wonder how the Satan’s Devils and he are acquainted, and what he’s referring to about their previous dealings with the feds.

  “I agree with Devil.” Drummer casts his eyes around the table and puts up his hand to forestay the round of objections. “We won’t be inviting them onto the compound, and the liaison will be through Devil. Mouse. Give us an update.”

  Mouse is looking tired, his eyes rimmed red as though he’d been working all night. “Our ruse worked. Sheikh Nijad has got himself an invite to the auction.”

  “I’ve got a man who’s managed to secure a place too. One of my team.” Devil inclines his head toward Mouse. “Sean, my chap, is coming in from England. Nijad, as you know will be staying in Amahad and appointing someone, one of your men, to attend on his behalf.”

  “We know the auction will be in Arizona, and the when, but not the precise where.” Mouse takes over again. “They had to at least release which state it was going to be in so international travellers won’t have to travel too far on the day.”

  “So, what’s the plan, Prez?”

  “That’s what we’re here to agree on, Peg.” Drummer raises his chin toward Devil. “Firstly, we need to choose who will be Nijad’s representative. It will be one of us. Who wants to volunteer to get dressed up in a posh suit?”

  “Got to be someone clean-looking.”

  All eyes seem to focus on Lady, who shuffles awkwardly in his seat. Joker gives him a worried look and then speaks for him. “Fuckin’ dangerous going into a place like that. They suspect anything, a bullet to the head would be the least of his worries.”

  “I’ll do it.” Lady nods at the man beside him. “I’m about the only clean-shaven one out of all of us here, and I don’t look like a fuckin’ bodybuilder.”

  Joker doesn’t look convinced, but everyone else is nodding.

  “So, we’ll have a man on the inside. Devil will brief you on what to expect.”

  Devil’s peering over at Lady as if making his own assessment of whether he’ll be able to play the part. As a crooked smile slowly emerges, it seems that Lady will pass. “I can give you a rundown. I’ve been to auctions like this before. Can’t show my face now as I’m too easily recognised.”

  Mmm. It would be hard to disguise that scar on his face.

  “Sean, my man, will be inside too. Two chances to get information out.” Devil’s taken over again, but no one seems to object. “He’s bringing his wife with him, Mouse. You know Nessa?”

  “Yeah, I’ve worked with both her and Cara before. She’s a good fuckin’ analyst.” Mouse frowns. “They leaving the kid behind?”

  Devil nods. “Sean’s mother is looking after Mollie. I thought Nessa would be useful. Now, what you all want to know is the rest of the plan.” Nods and chin jerks greet that statement. I’m bobbing my head enthusiastically too.

  “The way these people work is to move their,” he pauses and grimaces, “product around. Even if we found the location where they’re keeping the children, it’s probable they’d move to a different place before we could get together a team. They contact high rollers and put a discreet advert on the dark web, as you’ve found Mouse.” He pauses and looks at me. “I’ve spoken to Sheriff Evans, you’ll be the liaison with the police, Marcia.”

  My eyes open wide. He’s spoken to the man at the top of the police department? My mouth drops open. Devil notices. “He wants you to go in and meet with him and his top team. Of course, the location might be beyond the jurisdiction of Pima County, but he’ll be keeping his colleagues in other counties up-to-date. What you tell him will be determined by us.” Devil points to himself, and then to Drummer.

  “I’ll be the one talking to the Human Trafficking Taskforce. I’ve made contact briefly, and they’re willing to work with me. Agent Haughton you all probably remember.” That statement’s greeted by jeering and sneers. “I know you have reason to distrust him, but he’s good at his job. And he knows I am too.” No false modesty here, I can tell. “The FBI will also be trying to get the information, but as we’ve got people already invited, they won’t be trying to get a man of theirs in.” As there are a few curious looks, he explains, “The organisers will be ultracautious over who gets an invite. The sheikh was easy, they’ll have no difficulty believing he might want to stock his harem with underage girls.”

  I’d been in the room when Mouse had spoken to the sheikh’s wife, and I suspect, in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t know whether to believe it, thinking it might have been a joke, but I’d overheard them laughing that Nijad’s harem had been turned into a BDSM dungeon.

  “Sean too. Well, Nessa’s managed to rewrite his history. He’s now got a reputation as a rich man with particular appetites. The FBI is playing catch up. It’s too late for them to produce a credible plant.”

  He glances around as if to ensure everyone’s following him. They all are, each man rapt as they listen to the plan. “Once we know the locatio
n, I and Marcia will inform the police and FBI. They’ll mobilise and get men on the spot. We’ll have it surrounded.”

  “We going to be any part of that?” Wraith wants to know.

  Drummer’s fists thump down on the table as he thunders out, “Ain’t gonna leave a brother with no one at his back.”

  There’s uproar around the table. Devil’s voice is even louder than Drummer’s. “Quiet. I’ve addressed that.” Gradually, the objections die down. He attempts a grin, which doesn’t work because half his face doesn’t move. His contorted expression, though, suggests he’s trying to convey amusement. “When I spoke to the sheriff, I explained he wouldn’t be able to keep you out of it. Your man inside will have all of you at his back. He didn’t like it, but could do with the extra numbers. He’s agreed to have you work alongside the cops for the night.”

  Now there’s an incredulous silence. “Well, fuck me,” Drummer says, showing this was news to him too. “No tricks?”

  Devil shakes his head. “They’ll be grateful of all the manpower they can get. And as you say, you want to keep tabs on your man, and for my part, Seth and Ryan, two Grade A protection officers, will be flying out to have Sean’s back.”

  “Hey, we going to be deputised or something?” Tongue’s stud flashes as he jokes.

  “Not in a fuckin’ western, Brother.”

  “Do we get cop medical cover if we’re hurt?”

  Peg’s not looking amused. “Not going to try to arrest us if we have to take action?”

  Choosing to answer the sensible question, Devil raises his chin at him. “Complete amnesty. You’ll be on the same team as the cops. Not going to try to pull the wool over your eyes. This will be dangerous, and bullets will fly. What happens at the auction will be sanctioned. Soon as you leave, you’ll be on different sides again.”

  Most of the men around the table are having difficulty getting their heads around it, and comments fly about law enforcement and bikers working together. As Drummer and Devil wait for it to sink in, and the laughter and jokes to fade, I can’t keep quiet. “I want in on this too.”