Property of Lucian

by Elise, Simone

  Property of Lucian

  Simone Elise

  Contents

  Property of Lucian

  Prologue

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 1

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. The Black Wedding

  24. The Black Wedding

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Chapter 30

  31. Chapter 31

  32. Chapter 32

  33. Chapter 33

  34. Chapter 34

  35. Chapter 35

  36. Chapter 36

  37. Chapter 37

  38. Chapter 38

  39. Chapter 39

  40. Chapter 40

  41. Chapter 41

  42. Want to keep enjoying the series?

  Property of Lucian

  Life twists, life turns, but life itself is a beautiful disaster.

  Prologue

  IMOGEN

  My eyes flicked up, locking with his. I wanted to run, but as soon as that feeling crept into my heart, so did courage—which in the end, out-weighed the fear. I walked towards him, feeling like a lioness. Hoping I wasn’t being foolish by going to him.

  I saw the confusion in his eyes, along with a mixture of greed as if he wanted me but at the same time, I was the last thing he needed in his life. A smirk spread across my lips because in that moment, I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

  Just as I was about to whisper in his ear that I wanted to spend the night in his bed, the spell was broken by his sister’s glare.

  I went to retreat, but his hand locked around my wrist. “Scared, Imogen?”

  I bit my nerves. His sister terrified me. God, Haylee would scare any sane person away. Her hair was as black as her soul.

  Her eyebrows were shaped perfectly above the most furious piercing green eyes. She had a thin build but filled the proportions of a desired woman perfectly. Wasn’t going to lie and say every woman in here wasn’t jealous of her body.

  While Haylee scared the shit out of me, her brother Harley stirred every emotion and longing in my body a man could possibly stir. Harley was as deadly as his sister—and together they made the perfect pair. Seek and Destroy, they were rumoured to be on the streets.

  Seek being Haylee’s speciality, and Harley’s being Destroy. While they put fear in the clique, they also put fear in me. I was stupid for standing here, thinking I could escape Haylee and get the dose of Harley that I needed.

  “Scared, princess?” he murmured in my ear. A cute smirk on his face as if he had found my weakness.

  “Let’s just say your sister and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

  “Didn’t think as much.” He threw back his shot, and then took a noticeable step towards me. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

  My breathing sharpened, a dose of Harley was just what I needed. But then her signature perfume hit me.

  “Harley, we need to talk.” Her words were tight, yet smooth, alluring to any male’s ear, including her brother’s. His attention went right off me and on to his sister with concern painted in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Haylee?”

  “Our friends just walked in.” She gestured her head behind us. I glanced over my shoulder seeing bikers.

  Panic was quick to grip me, and it was an automatic response to step into Harley. One Haylee scoffed at.

  “Such a princess.” He smiled down at me, giving me a wink.

  “Harley, pay attention,” Haylee snapped. “They are looking for us.”

  “I’ll handle it.” Harley placed his shot glass down, but I couldn’t say anything as my eyes told him something was wrong before I could speak.

  It may have been the sudden fear that appeared in my eyes or the fact that he had heard the safety of a gun switch off, which was pressing firmly into the back of his head.

  Haylee had her gun raised within a blink of an eye. But she was out-numbered. Harley rose his arms, and I knew he was going to make a move and take the weapon. If I knew that, then they knew that. Which was why the man—who looked to be the leader of the bikers—had a gun now pressed firmly into my head.

  “Even think about something smart, and we will blow her head off as well,” a darkened twisted sick fuck said behind me. “Ya got cash for us, Seek?”

  I knew he was speaking to Haylee, but I couldn’t look back.

  “No.” Her one word sent the gang of bikers into hushed angry voices.

  And then I thought it was over.

  “But I have myself.” Haylee locked eyes with her brother, who was telling her to stay silent. She flicked her beautiful long eye lashes at the biker behind me.

  “What do you say to an upgrade from cash to me?” Her words were pure seductive chocolate to the ears.

  “I’ll die before that happens,” Harley barked, and then a firm clip to his head from the pointed gun sent him to the floor. Haylee was quick to drop to the dirty, old, wooden pub floor and whispered something in his ear.

  Pulling back, for the first time ever, I saw fear in Haylee’s eyes as she looked at me. She didn’t say a word, and there wasn’t need for her to—I knew she wanted me to care for her brother. I nodded my head when she walked at her own pace out of the bar, followed in the wake of the bikers.

  And that made me the last one to see Haylee.

  1

  Chapter 1

  Haylee

  Live and let go. As much as I knew I needed to do this, I couldn’t bring my mind off the fact that right now my living depended on bikers. I couldn’t let go of the fact that if they chose one day to not let me live, then that would be it. I would be another Jane Doe. Knowing these bikers, it would also be likely that Harley wouldn’t recognize me because they liked things down to an old code.

  There is a percentage of bikers that live by an old code, and the one that I was now owned by followed and believed them. They were cruel, brutal, and the things they did didn’t even meet the headlines of the papers—too dark and twisted for the news.

  Instead, it was described as ‘a fatal attack’ or ‘an army robbery gone wrong’. I knew things about them—one of the reasons they took me as a sacrifice instead of the money my brother and I owed them.

  I knew how they took to one woman with a baseball bat, and then cut her open with a bread knife. The knife was so dull it was rumoured it took them a solid hour to slice off her finger, and they didn’t stop there. The man that did it fucked her before he used the butter knife. Raped her, cut her up, and what was it all over?

  Who knows?

  But I’m sure the punishment didn’t suit the crime. Because that was the main thing with the old code. It was always over-the-top and never fit the crime correctly.

  For example, while our justice system was light on sentencing, the old code was hard.

  I wasn’t allowed to sleep—their latest punishment for me. I was currently going on my fifth day without any sleep and it was hard. Normally, I’d rely on drugs, and those drugs would get me through. However, that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t allowed to do drugs—they wanted me to suffer. They wante
d me to unleash a craziness. Maybe get a glimpse of the girl I was rumoured to be, because I was hardly a saint. I had got my hands bloody more than once. In fact, I was known for it.

  I couldn’t take a morally high ground on the bikers that killed. I wasn’t someone who would judge someone when I did the same thing.

  Because deep down, I knew they suffered for taking those lives. Sure, they may act cold and heartless. But even I felt it at times—the worthlessness, all the bad I was spreading into the world. Also, the question that would play in my head that I’m sure would play in theirs . . .I should be the one receiving my wrath.

  I didn’t even give my victims a shallow grave. That was one of the codes that these bikers lived by.

  I glanced up at the carvings on the wall. Number nine it was, Never give those we take peace.

  Sick and twisted, yet I understood. Mine was down to laziness, not wanting to dig a hole. I didn’t want to hide their body. I wasn’t ashamed of what I had done. If anything, I was proud. Because usually it came down to their life or mine, and sometimes at night I’d question if I was the right one to be breathing. In that moment, in the live and die moment, I’d always chose live.

  A firm whack on my butt made me turn around, taking my eyes off the carved codes on the wooden wall.

  His vivid blue eyes were on me, a look of need captured them. He wanted me, needed me. Now. And just like every night before tonight, I didn’t fight it when he placed his hands on my hips. I wouldn’t call it rape because it wasn’t. It was me fulfilling my service to him.

  I was nothing to him but a place for him to park his dick at night. Hell, it wasn’t even night, it was the middle of the day. But to me, it might as well be night. Going onto the sixth day with no sleep.

  I placed the beer jugs down. I took his hand off my hip, gently taking his finger and placing it in my mouth. I knew I wasn’t meant to tease him—we had this unwritten code. And while the code he lived by was on a wall, the code between him and I was unwritten. I just knew what I could and couldn’t do, or more like, should and shouldn’t do.

  I licked his finger. His other hand went to my breast while he backed me firmly up against the wall.

  He didn’t even need to say what he wanted. I knew and I didn’t need to be asked twice or forced. I dropped to my knees willingly, just in time for him to unzip his jeans, and I took him into my mouth. All of him.

  I heard him inhale sharply, clearly turned on by me obeying him.

  I ran my tongue down him, then back up, then took him again into my mouth. I continued the pattern.

  Knowing his needs was part of my job as serving him. I couldn’t serve him if I didn’t know what he liked, but I knew what he loved was me swallowing him. When he started to fuck my mouth, picking up the speed, I opened up wider, adding to his pleasure as he finished. I didn’t jerk back—no, I swallowed willingly.

  “Fuck me next,” a man groaned to my side. Our little scene had scored some attention from the other bikers, some openly stroking themselves, others looking at me with need and lust.

  “Never seen one take it so willingly before.”

  I staggered up from my knees and saw the men approach. Okay, my God. This wasn’t the first time I had blown him in public, but usually it was in a dark corner, not in the middle of the room.

  “Strip,” one man ordered as he approached me.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t theirs but at the same time, I was property of the club. I didn’t see another choice.

  My fingers went to my shirt and I unbuttoned it. I only had to please him, but now I knew that my time of just pleasing one was over.

  “She’s mine.”

  My eyes bounced off the floor and to the man who I was sure had just said the two words I had never wanted to hear. He had just declared openly to his brothers that he was making claim on his property. That I was going to be more than some women to him—I was going to be his woman.

  My eyes widened out of complete and utter fear. There was a reason I had obeyed him, there was a reason I listened to what his body needed. Why?

  Because he was the man who was featured in my stories. He was responsible for the reputation I knew these bikers had.

  The man that kills as easily as he breathes. The man that raped and killed the woman I had heard about. And that was when the twisted moment occurred to me—I was the property of Lucian.

  2

  Chapter 1

  Haylee

  I was never given a room. Never given anywhere to sleep. In fact, since I got here, I had slept under a pool table or in the corner booth. But since that, I haven’t been allowed to sleep since the President ordered me not to, who then ordered Lucian to enforce it. Because that was what Lucian was—an enforcer of the club’s laws and codes.

  Lucian saw when I was getting tired and when that happened, I’d either end up sucking his dick, which was the only time I was allowed to close my eyes. I didn’t think he did it out of kindness.

  Regardless, I hadn’t been in a clubhouse bedroom—nor a bed—since I was taken.

  As I stood in the doorway of Lucian’s room, I wondered what the fuck I was meant to do.

  He had walked in and I heard the shower going, but I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be in here.

  Then I remembered the code that I swore to when I got here. I didn’t have a choice but to follow the code, or Harley would be killed. I wouldn’t let my brother die because of my problems.

  The code said that a man's property was to serve his every need. I just knew for some reason that I was meant to be in the shower with him.

  I walked across the room, not looking around, not wanting to look at something I shouldn’t.

  I twisted open the door and slid in, and when I did, I clenched my eyes. I expected a hand to slap my cheek for breaking his privacy or for me to be forced to my knees.

  When it didn’t happen, all I felt was steam from the shower. I unclenched my eyes, opening them, seeing Lucian lean against the basin of his small en-suite bathroom.

  “What were you expecting?” His words were lowered, and dark and twisted. “For me to hit ya or rape ya?” He said both like they had crossed his mind . . . and they had crossed mine, too.

  “Do you speak?” He uncrossed his arms, looking at me. In these few moments, I admired his eyes and how they shone, but my eyes snapped back down when I realised the man I was staring at owned me.

  “Speak, God darn it!”

  “S-sorry . . ..” I stuttered the one simple word out.

  His hands moved to my hips, and he slowly lifted my top, taking it off and dropping it onto the floor. It was his sharp inhale that scared me as it was enraged.

  “What the fuck happened to your stomach?”

  I licked my bottom lip and wasn’t sure how to explain what happened to me without making him question my background. He must have known I grew up on the streets as Harley’s sister.

  “Rats,” I answered but couldn’t bring my eyes up to look at him. Not until his hand cupped my chin, forcing me to look up.

  “Explain?”

  “I was tortured, do you need to know more?” I answered him simply and hoped he would leave it at that. “Believe it or not, no sleep hasn’t been my worst punishment. But I am beginning to think I’d rather go another round with the rats and blowtorch then another night with no sleep.”

  The exhaustion was so clear in my voice.

  His fingers traced my stomach. I had always been ashamed of the scars. Harley told me that our bodies were a graveyard of the wars we had won and lost. My body told a story, each fainted dim scar was a fixture of my past. But as I looked at Lucian, I knew he would leave a mark on my body, but unlike the ones I carried, you wouldn’t be able to see it.

  “You know my name?” he asked and I nodded. Wasn’t like me to be submissive, but I had to be.

  “Well, I don’t know yours and unless you want to be called bitch, ya to cough up what your name is.”

  Why would he want
to call me by my real name? I frowned and was hesitant to tell him. Then I thought what the hell did I have to lose.

  “Haylee.” I spoke for the first time since the ‘yes’ I had muttered at the commitment ceremony—where I told the President I would follow his laws and codes and fulfil my debt to the club.

  He never had kissed me, I had sucked him off many times but my lips had never met his, and I had a feeling that little fact wasn’t going to change. He guided me back to the shower and my only pair of pants got wet. He harshly spun me around, my hands flew to the tiled wall and spread as his hands moved up my sides, my bare skin enjoyed the feeling of his rough hands on my body.

  He unclipped my bra, and I dropped my arms down, letting it fall to the shower floor.

  I wasn’t expecting him to spin me back around, but he did. And I saw him enlarged with delight about the prospect of fucking me. I swallowed sharply, knowing that I could take whatever he unleashed on my body.

  His hand moved up and down himself, and I knew that was my job. I took over, and he smirked slightly when my hand wrapped around him.

  I wasn’t needing a man to hold my heart or love me. I don’t know how many times I had been accused of being soulless and heartless in the past.