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Koyn (Royal Bastards MC)

Page 13

by K. Webster


  I freeze, tears welling in my eyes. “Koyn…”

  “It’s time for you to be quiet now, Nicolette.”

  Cringing at the name, I tear my stare from his. My heart gallops in my chest. No. Fuck no. How does he know my name? Hammer didn’t tell him. Oh God.

  “Please, Koyn,” I whisper.

  “Close your mouth, beautiful. You’re not allowed to speak. Not right now. I’m in a mood to punish. We both know I shouldn’t punish when I’m furious. So keep that pretty mouth closed. It’s your turn to protect both of us.”

  My lips tremble, but I press them closed, nodding rapidly as tears race down my cheeks. He kisses my forehead and then licks up my tears.

  “Good girl.”

  We walk into the house, hand in hand. I’m in shock. Frozen in fear. An animal strangling itself on the leash it’s tethered to. When I hear Stormy’s voice, I cower, hiding my face against Koyn’s blood splattered shirt.

  “What did you do?” Stormy screeches. “Did you fucking hurt her?”

  Filter snaps into action. “Not now, Stormy!”

  Koyn tenses. Fuck, everyone does.

  “What are you going to do about this, Jeremy?” she yells, her words directed at Copper. “Tell me what the fuck you’re going to do—”

  Filter’s hand goes around her mouth and he drags her away, kicking and screaming. The men exchange a few uneasy looks.

  “Want to tell me how the fuck she knows your name?” Koyn demands, his voice a low growl.

  “Fuck if I know,” Copper snaps. “She’s nosy as fuck.”

  “The plot thickens,” Dragon sings like he’s in a Broadway show.

  “C-Can I t-take a s-shower?” I chatter out.

  All eyes land on me.

  “Not until you eat,” Koyn says in a bossy, fatherly tone. “Bermuda. Make her a plate.”

  Koyn hauls me over to the kitchen table and then sits. He pulls me into his lap, making me straddle him. His brown eyes are wild and unhinged. I don’t know him like this. Why do I always get myself into terrible situations? Moments later, a plate clanks down on the table behind me.

  Koyn reaches past me to grab the fork. He scoops up some food and then begins to feed me. Bile is in my throat and my stomach churns. Through my tears, he feeds me. I choke it all down because I’m afraid what’ll happen if I don’t. When I’m full, I whimper and plead with my eyes.

  He smiles and pets my hair. “All done, baby?”

  I nod, sending more tears leaking out.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

  By the time our shower ends, I’m nearly catatonic. And I’m succumbing to his gentle caresses and sweet words. Crazy always finds a way to burrow itself inside me. After we’re dry, he carries my naked body bridal style to his big bed. Like I’m his little girl, he tucks me in before joining me. His stomach rumbles and it reminds me that he didn’t eat when I did.

  “You’re being quiet,” he says, stroking his large palm over my breast. My nipple pebbles in response. “Too quiet.”

  “Oh.”

  “I like when you make noises.”

  My breath catches when his palm slides down my stomach. Everything in my mind screams for me to push him away, but my body craves his touch. It makes no sense. I’m fucked in the head. I gasp when his fingers rub at my clit. A small mewl escapes me.

  “Good girl. That’s what I like. You going to let me fuck you one last time?”

  One last time?

  “Please don’t kill me.”

  His mouth presses to mine. “Silly girl.” He lashes his tongue out, dominating mine with his. So easily he plays my body as he kisses me. With embarrassing quickness, I come, crying out into his mouth. He devours every sound.

  Then, he’s between my thighs.

  Large.

  Imposing.

  Powerful.

  All I can do is spread my thighs and welcome him. On some sick level, I need this. I need him. His demanding mouth overtakes mine and distracts me from my horrible memories of earlier. He slides his cock along my slit in a teasing manner.

  “You’re the sweetest thing, Hadley.”

  I revel in his praise and claw at him, needing him inside me more than my next breath. Fucked in the head. So fucked in the head. He complies by pushing his dick inside my slippery body. I take in every inch of him like a greedy whore. I kiss him harder. Fiercer. Needier than ever before. Rather than fucking me like a madman like before, he thrusts gently as though he’s trying to memorize every moment.

  It makes me sad.

  He really is going to kill me.

  I don’t want to die.

  I want to stay here with him, I realize. I don’t want to see him murder people, but I still want to stay. It’s the best place I’ve been in a while.

  “Look at how sweet you are on my dick,” he croons. “So mine.”

  I cave at his tender words, stroking my fingers through his hair. “Yours.” Please keep me. Please.

  He kisses me like he might.

  Possessive. Caring. Thoroughly.

  “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to come.”

  So nice. So gentle.

  I hate him.

  I don’t.

  A sob tears from my throat and he kisses it away. His fingers slide between us and with expert movements, he brings me to orgasm again through my tears and emotions. I come with a choked sound. His cock seems to swell and then he’s pumping cum into me.

  Hot.

  Furious.

  Claiming.

  I’m not on the pill. He doesn’t seem to know what a condom is. Either he plans on keeping me, or he’s going to kill me. Men don’t fuck without protection unless they don’t care about the consequences. He either doesn’t care I could get knocked up with his baby, or I won’t ever live to see that day anyway.

  I hate him.

  I don’t.

  Selfishly, I hug him to me like I could keep him. Like I could convince him to change his mind. Like I might make him see that I matter.

  He slides out, his dick dragging a trail of wetness over my thigh before he settles beside me. His mouth finds my temple and he kisses me.

  “Sleep, PG. Big day tomorrow.”

  I pass out seconds later, even though I’m terrified of what tomorrow will bring.

  Koyn

  She looks like an angel.

  With her plump pink lips pouted and her dark lashes fanned over her cheeks, she seems so innocent. She is innocent. And if I don’t untangle her from me, he’ll kill her.

  Which is why I shoved the sleeping pills down her throat in the middle of the night. She thrashed and fought me. As soon as she swallowed them all down, I pinned her body beneath me and whispered assurances while I stroked her hair. Eventually, she succumbed to the effects of the pills.

  Two hours later, and she’s zonked out.

  I take a quick shower, beat one off to memories of her tight ass, and then dress in dark jeans, a black Henley, my combat boots, and my cut. The house is quiet. I step outside in the brisk night air and smoke through half my pack of cigarettes before Copper joins me. He’s quiet for a long time. Eventually he clears his throat.

  “You’re taking her home.”

  I give him a clipped nod. “For the best.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t think so?” My chest squeezes, but I ignore it.

  “No, I think it’s for the best. The girl…” He sighs. “She doesn’t exactly bring out the best qualities in you, brother.”

  I turn to regard my older brother with a scowl. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “You lose your fucking mind around her. The MC, me, the past—none of it matters when she’s in your sights.”

  I shrug and take another drag. “So?”

  “It’s not like with Ellie—”

  “Stop.”

  “I won’t. You need to hear this.”

  “Don’t go fucking badass cop on me now, Jeremy. You know everything I’v
e done—everything you’ve done. We’ve been in this together. This whole time.”

  He sighs heavily. “We’re still in it together, man. I’m not leaving your ass. Nor will I ever. You can keep the girl and fuck her forever if that’s what makes you fucking happy.” He clutches my shoulder. “But you’re blinded by her. She makes you weak.”

  I pull away from his grasp. “It’s why I’m sending her home to her dad. He’s legit?”

  Copper nods. “I checked him over. Marron Genworth. He runs Genworth Enterprises. Billion-dollar company. Dude’s loaded. There was a missing person report filed for Nicolette Genworth. The files claim the man was distraught. He lost his wife to an overdose, so his daughter was all he had.”

  “Hadley’s just a made-up name?”

  “Nah, it’s her middle name.” He holds out his hand and I pass him my cigarette. After he takes a drag, he hands it back. “Genworth lives in a fucking fortress.”

  I lived in one too and my family was still taken from me.

  “Hmm,” is all I say, unconvinced.

  “Private security team. Pays more for them than the White House pays for the Secret Service. She’ll be safe there.”

  “Any word on Putnam?”

  “Not yet, but I’ve been checking for any local chatter about bikers. Putnam lives by violence, so wherever he goes, he will cause a stir. We’ll catch him,” he assures me.

  I take another hard suck off my cigarette before tossing it down and stubbing it out. “How’d Stormy know your name?”

  He stiffens. “I don’t fucking know. I’m going to find out.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Filter took her to their room and they’ve been up there ever since.”

  Filter will take care of it. He’s loyal to me, not some nosy club whore. I knew she was always listening in.

  “Since you’re awake, grab a coffee and let’s do this shit.”

  “Now? How are we getting her there?”

  “I slipped her some shit to knock her ass out for hours.”

  His lips press together in a disapproving frown, but he nods. “Give me five.”

  Daylight breaks when the GPS takes us down a long road toward Genworth’s palace. I don’t say palace fucking lightly. It’s ten times bigger than my massive estate ten years ago. The guy’s a billionaire, so it’s no surprise. The gate is huge and heavily fortified with armed guards. Knowing she’ll be safe has me relaxing. I cast a quick glance into the back seat. She sleeps heavily still. I’d thrown on one of my hoodies and sweatpants on her sleeping body. The clothes swallow her, but it makes me feel good knowing she’ll be leaving covered from head to toe in me.

  “Can I help you?” the voice on the intercom says in an unfriendly tone.

  “Here to see Genworth.”

  “You’ll have to book an appointment with his secretary during normal business hours.”

  “I have Nicolette. I’m delivering her to him. Let me fucking through or I’ll turn my ass around and keep her.”

  He doesn’t respond.

  For five long minutes, we don’t get a response. Still, we wait.

  The gate opens and Copper gives me a wary look.

  “I don’t like this,” Copper grumbles.

  “You don’t like anything.”

  I drive his truck through the gate down the long driveway to Genworth’s castle. Two black SUVs sit parked out front with several men standing beside them. They look ready for war.

  I’m not here for war.

  I’m bringing a gift.

  As a father myself and a man who has everything, I know what a truly priceless gift this is.

  Once I park Copper’s truck, I climb out, ignoring the weapons trained on me. I fling open the back seat and pull Hadley’s thin body into my arms. Several of the men curse once they realize I wasn’t bluffing.

  She stirs, moaning a little, but doesn’t wake.

  “Where’s Genworth?” I demand.

  A man moves forward like he’s going to take Hadley from me, but I shake my head at him. He frowns but nods.

  “Come inside.”

  Copper and I follow him up the steps and through the massive mahogany door. We step into a cavernous entryway that leads to an open area with two sets of staircases leading to a second floor. In the center of the open area is a large marble sculpture—a man riding a stallion that’s bucking.

  The man walks over to a closed door and raps. “Sir. They’re here.”

  A few moments later, the door opens and a man exits. He’s wearing a suit, but his hair is disheveled like he just woke up. Dark bags circle his eyes and his face is lined with creases.

  “Hadley,” he chokes out, his hand flying to his chest. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  Copper and I exchange a foul look.

  “I fucking brought her to you,” I snap, drawing the man’s attention. “Kind of insulting to insinuate I’d hurt her now.”

  His face pinches in confusion. “I’m Marron Genworth. Billionaire. People make it their job to hurt what’s mine.” Fear shines in his brown eyes that match hers exactly.

  “Putnam wants her,” I bark out. “Can you promise she’s safe with you?”

  He blinks rapidly at me. “I’m her father.”

  “No fucking shit, Sherlock. Is she safe here?”

  Slowly, he nods, as though he’s trying to figure me out. “Of course she is. I won’t let her out of my sight ever again. She’s eighteen now. No need to go to school. If she wants an education, I’ll bring someone here to give it to her.”

  “Men on her. Round the clock,” I warn. “Because the moment you turn your head, he’ll be there.”

  “What do you want?” he asks, his attention darting to his daughter. He rakes his gaze over her as though to assess her for damages.

  “Her safety.”

  “That’s it? You don’t want my money?”

  This fucker is arrogant as shit. “I have my own.”

  Despite my biker attire, he nods as though he believes me.

  “Well, is that all?” he asks, impatience in his tone.

  “Nope. That’s it.”

  “I can take her from here.”

  I shake my head. “Show me to her room. I’ll put her down there.”

  The man grits his teeth, his face turning red, but gives me a clipped nod, motioning for the staircase on the left. I follow after him, looking at all the pictures of Hadley with her mother and father hanging on the walls. They go from when she was about a year old to sixteen or seventeen. She’s smiling her pageant-worthy smile in every one of them. At the top of the stairs, he leads us down a long hallway. He pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the door.

  “It was hard looking in this room when she ran away,” he admits, his voice choked up. “I refused to let the cleaners come in here. I wanted to preserve the space—preserve her.”

  The pain in his voice stirs something in my gut.

  It feels familiar.

  “I understand,” I grit out.

  He narrows his eyes but then nods. We go into her room and I’m speechless. It makes me realize how young she really is. Band posters line the walls. She has a ton of shelves stuffed full of glittery crowns and trophies. Clothes are strung all over the place messily. Her drawers are open as though she was in a hurry when she packed a bag and left. The bed is rumpled and cans of soda sit on the end table.

  Messy girl.

  Genworth grabs the blanket and shakes it out, laying it flat. Then, he peels back the covers. I walk over to the bed, inhaling her scent one last time before laying her down. Pulling away, I watch bitterly as he tucks in his little girl.

  Not mine.

  His.

  It’s a tough pill to swallow, but it’s for the best.

  Here, she’s safe from Putnam.

  At my compound, she’d be in danger.

  I’m just stepping away when her eyes flutter open. She slowly takes in her surroundings and her lips part. A tear of betrayal leaks from her eye.
>
  I’ve seen enough.

  “Goodbye, PG.”

  Hadley

  I can’t pretend to be asleep for forever.

  It’s been hours and hours since Koyn and Copper left me in my bedroom. I’d been so devastated, all I could do was close my eyes and pretend it was a dream.

  I’m not here.

  I’m not here.

  I’m not her—

  “Mr. Genworth wants to see you for dinner,” his second-in-command, Renaldo, grunts from my doorway. “It’s a black tie event.”

  I sit up, rubbing at my eye with my fist. “What? Why?”

  “A celebration.”

  My stomach twists violently. “I don’t want to celebrate with all those people.”

  Renaldo laughs. “Not all those people. Just you and Mr. Genworth.”

  A shudder ripples through me. I mask my fear with a hiss. “Well, get the fuck out, loser. I’m not undressing in front of you.”

  His smile widens. “You know I’ve seen everything.”

  I grab one of the remotes off the end table and chuck it at him. He closes the door and it bounces off the wood. I wait for the familiar reminder I’m in prison.

  Click.

  Locked in.

  Fuckers.

  On shaky legs, I ignore the pounding in my head from whatever pills Koyn shoved down my throat, and make my way into my bathroom. I strip out of Koyn’s comfortable clothes and frown at my reflection. I’m littered in bruises and teeth marks. His cum is smeared on my thighs, dry and crusty. Tears well in my eyes.

  How could he do this to me?

  I turn on the shower and hug myself. I’ll need to come up with a new plan. Last time was pure luck that I managed to escape my dad’s greedy clutches. Now, he’ll really fortify this place and his efforts in keeping me detained. I step into the shower and let the hot spray wash away all the pain. So much pain. It’s like all the horrible men in the world find me. They want to feed on me. They want to use and abuse me.

  Quickly, I wash my hair and then my body. My pussy is sore from all the pounding it took from Koyn and my asshole is still tender. I wonder how long I’ll wear the reminders of him on my body. After my shower, I go into socialite daughter mode. Hair. Face. Nails. Skin. I spend an ungodly amount of time getting myself to Daddy’s specifications. He only accepts perfection. Just ask my mother. She never quite could achieve the level he required, hence why she took her own life. Then, his obsession went from her to me.

 

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