Pierce's Claim

by Jenika Snow

It seemed so simple, yet felt so complicated.

  “You name the place and time and I’ll be there.”

  Okay, so he was throwing the ball in her court, giving her the lead to control the situation. Was he that perceptive, even over the phone, to know that she was freaking about this situation, and heck, her life in general?

  “Okay,” she said and braced a hand on the counter. She told him the directions on where to meet, and gave him a time, and once the phone was disconnected she looked at the drain. Did he realize that getting involved with her would mean she was damaged, broken, and that she may never be fixed?

  If he didn’t he’d find out soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  Bobbie’s heart raced, her palms were sweaty, and she was so excited, anticipating what was to come that she felt lightheaded from the rush of endorphins.

  Rook had sent her a text giving her specific, exact and stern instructions on what he wanted from her. She pulled her phone out again, her hands shaking as her arousal made her feel euphoric.

  Rook: I want you in my room at exactly ten. You will be naked with only a pair of heels on, bent at the waist, and showing me that sweet cunt and ass of yours. Tonight I’m going to spank your ass hard enough you won’t be able to sit comfortably tomorrow without remembering what I’d done to you.

  Her body shook with anticipation, and pleasure mounted inside of her higher after reading his text again. She was a few minutes early, but she didn’t want to waste any time. Not being in the position he strictly told her to be in would mean she’d get punished, and although punishment from Rook could be ecstasy and agony all rolled into one, having him upset with her¸ disappointed even, wasn’t what she wanted.

  She always felt this pleasure when it concerned Rook, because the truth was she loved him, loved the pain he gave her with pleasure, and knew that even if she had no future with him she’d take whatever he gave her. Maybe she was twisted, sad, pathetic, or all of the above for allowing a man to spank her until bruises formed, to restrain her, tease her, torment, her, and give her pain. But all of that gave her pleasure, heightened her sensations, her experience, and she knew she’d do anything for him. Of course she’d never reveal her feelings for him, never risk having him push her away because he didn’t do “relationships”.

  Like all the bikers he was hardcore, didn’t fuck around when it came to protecting his club and those he cared about, and to him she was just another pussy on the side. She knew this, knew that she wasn’t anything special to him, but she wanted to be. Bobbie wanted to be the only female he came to when he wanted to be sated, pleasured. She wanted to be able to look at him and know she was his old lady.

  Closing her eyes because she knew how foolish that was, Bobbie knew that he’d never be with her, never call her his old lady. She was nothing but a piece of ass to these bikers, and although she’d never slept with another man once she fell in love with Rook and knew he was it for her, she knew she was just setting herself up for disappointment and heartache. But like an addict looking for her next fix she couldn’t stop seeing him, couldn’t stop giving him her whole body, her whole surrender.

  She’d always submit to him, anytime, anyplace, and for any reason. Maybe she was weak, or may she was just a woman in love that wanted to please the only man she’d ever seen a future with. But that future was one sided, and she needed to realize that before she got too deep in all of this.

  You’re already too deep in all of this.

  Not thinking about that anymore, she quickly got undressed, kept her killer stilettos on, and breathed out slowly. The sound of the party just downstairs came through the walls, the floor. It had vibrations traveling through her entire body, had her pussy wetter, her nipples tight and hard, and her heart racing.

  For several moments she stood there, facing the wall, facing his bed. She looked at the posts on each side, and then lowered her gaze to the foot of the mattress. Her heart raced as she imagined herself restrained for Rook, her arms at the top, bound, her legs below in the same fashion. She’d been restrained by him before, whipped with his belt, his hand, pleasured, made to come, but only when he’d deemed it fit. God, a shiver worked through her at that thought, at that image, and the memories of what she’d experienced.

  And then she heard the steady, the loud, dominating sound of his footsteps coming through the door, making his way down the hallway. Even though the music was loud, the voices deafening, it was those footsteps she heard, she felt deep in her body. And when the door opened softly and closed just as gently, a soft click coming through the room, Bobbie closed her eyes and instantly went into position. She anticipated it, looked forward to it, and everything her body heightened at the idea that soon she’d have Rook touching her.

  She bent at the waist, spread her legs wide, and clenched her hands in the material of the comforter. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor filled her, and the closer he came the more exited she became, the wetter she grew.

  “You listen so well, Bobbie,” Rook said, his deep voice skating along her flesh, making her feel as though he were touching her, stroking those long, big and calloused fingers over every inch of her body.

  This wasn’t just a game, but his lifestyle, and she knew better than to treat it as a novelty.

  “You like when I give you an order, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, and a moan nearly spilled from her when she heard the sound of him removing his belt. Yes, she could actually hear it. The sound of the buckle being unlatched, of him unbuttoning his jeans, and finally of the gentle slap of leather against denim as he pulled it through the loops.

  “You like having your control taken away, like having my marks on your flesh,” he said with domination. “And I bet this pretty red cunt is wet for me, isn’t it.” Again he said it without question. And then he touched her, pressed his hand right between her thighs and stroked her slit. “Yes, such a good girl. Your pussy is soaked.” Before she could move, could even take her next breath, he pulled his hand away, but just as quickly he smacked her pussy with his open palm.

  Bobbie rose on her toes, the back of her heels rising off the ground as pleasure and a sting of pain filled her. She grew wetter, her clit throbbing, her pussy muscles clenching of their own accord.

  He slapped her pussy again and again, and a cry left her. She instantly knew she should have held it in, should have kept her sounds of pleasure and pain inside. He moved back instantly, not touching her, and she felt his disappointment in the air.

  “Look at me, Bobbie,” he commanded.

  She looked over her shoulder, her heart stopping, her throat closing. He stood there, his pants unbuttoned but zipped, showing that V of muscle, that line of dark hair starting beneath his navel and disappearing beneath the jeans. His t-shirt hung free from the waistband of his jeans, and his leather cut showed the danger, the power, the masculinity that poured from him. Rook was a dangerous man, a hardened male. His short dark hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes, so dark, almost menacing, had a shiver wracking her entire body. He didn’t answer for what felt like forever, and when he took a step closer her body started acting like it wasn’t her own.

  “What is one of the rules I’ve set in place when we do this?”

  She stared at him, watched as he set the belt on the bed, took off his cut and t-shirt, and then he just stood there, staring at her, making her feel more exposed than she already was. And that was saying something seeing as she was totally naked. “No noise, Sir.”

  He didn’t nod, didn’t speak. He reached on, grabbed the belt once more, and before she could think, could turn her head back around and face the headboard he was bringing the belt down across her ass. She clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and just as the pain faded and the pleasure took its place he spanked her again.

  Over and over he did this until her flesh felt hot right before it numbed, and the endorphins went wild inside of her, sparki
ng off her nerve endings, and causing her to use self control to not cry out.

  “Who do you belong to?” he asked, demanded.

  “You, Sir.”

  He brought the belt down along the back of her thighs.

  “Have you been fucking any other assholes, Bobbie?”

  She shook her head, licked her lips, and then said, “No, Sir.”

  “And why is that?” The belt struck her pussy, and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts out. It hurt so good, so damn good.

  “Because I belong to you. My pussy belongs to you,” she gasped out when he struck her again. Tightening her hands in sheets, she felt her eyes water, felt the tears slide down her cheeks.

  “That’s right, Bobbie.” He spanked her again, and she bit her lip. “This belongs to me,” he said and placed his hand on her pussy, stroking her, teasing and tormenting her. He added pressure, slipped two fingers into her, and started fucking her with the digits. “Your pussy, your ass, your tits…” He leaned forward and she felt his warm breath on her ear. “I own every part of you, and you’ll remember that when some motherfucker wants to taste you, Bobbie, wants their dick in your cunt.” He shoved his fingers into her harder, faster. “And if any fucking asshole tries to fuck this pussy I’ll kill them, Bobbie.”

  She opened her mouth on a silent cry.

  “You remember that when you’re flaunting your body around the club, tempting the Brothers.”

  And then he was off of her and had his fingers pulled from her body. He had her flipped over, her back now on the mattress, and had her chin in his hand. He opened her mouth forcibly, placed his slicked fingers that had just been deep in her body along her lips, and made her taste herself.

  “Tell me.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I belong to you.”

  He stared at her for a second, and then leaned forward. “Yeah, you fucking do.”

  Chapter Six

  Pierce pulled his Harley into the parking lot, cut the engine, removed his helmet and sunglasses, and stared up at the building he was to meet Fallina at. He was about ten minutes early, but hadn’t been familiar with this place, and it was a few hours outside of River Run, a fact he didn’t think was an accident, so he figured he’d check it out beforehand. In fact she’d asked him to go to a library.

  Yeah, a fucking library.

  “Okay,” he said to himself and dismounted. He walked toward the entrance, and when he pulled the door open he saw Fallina sitting there. Okay, so apparently he wasn’t early seeing as she looked pretty damn comfortable sitting there. The inside of the library was silent and empty, aside from the older woman behind the counter at the front.

  Fallina stood, her outfit very modest, and like a fucking creep all he could picture was her naked. Well, semi naked as she’d always had a small triangle bikini covering her pussy. But fuck, he could image it in all its sweet as hell glory.

  She smoothed her hands down the pencil skirt that fell to her knees, and although she was covered from collarbones to knees, her top a lacy looking cream, he could make out the outline of her full breasts, and could see the shape of her curvy, thick and delicious thighs. He wasn’t normally this hard up for a woman, but then again he’d been after Fallina, or Lil as he’d thought this whole time, for the past few months.

  “You wanted to meet at a library?” he asked, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck and feeling like the walls were closing in on him. He felt out of place, what with the classics around him, a kids’ corner to his left, and him standing here wearing his dirty black boots, his jeans, a grease stained t-shirt, and his leather MC cut. Compared to him Fallina looked like she should be going to some fancy as shit restaurant with a lawyer as her date.

  “I didn’t know where else to meet, and I’ve come here a few times over the last couple of years. It seemed like a safe, neutral place to meet that was away from … the club.” She swallowed, and he could see how nervous she was. She clenched her hands together, her knuckles white from the strain. “Besides, I didn’t know exactly what this meeting was all about.”

  “Meeting?” He lifted a brow, but didn’t move. “I didn’t want to see you to sign any contracts or forms or some shit,” he teased, but she was still so tense.

  “I mean, you wanted to see me, but I didn’t know in what context.”

  Oh, he knew she knew exactly what context he wanted to see her in, or at least eventually he did. He wanted her, wanted to fuck her, that wasn’t a secret he was hiding, or something he was lying to himself about. But this wasn’t just about sex. He wanted to get to know her, because although they didn’t know shit about each other, and being with her was totally not good for his health, Pierce still wanted her in a way he’d never wanted a woman before.

  “I wanted to just see you, so I guess if that means hanging with you at this library,” he shrugged, “I’m good with that.” He smiled, hoping to ease her clear nervousness.

  She nodded, looked around, and then went over to the tables by the corner. He followed, searching the place on instinct, because no matter where he was he was always on alert. That was a thing about being in the club, about always having an enemy out there. And because they hadn’t resolved anything with M, or figured out how they were going to bring him down, everyone needed to be on alert.

  They sat down, and Pierce shifted on the hard plastic chair, feeling even more closed in. The table and chairs were in the corner, a window surrounding them. The sun was barely setting, and a couple with a small child walked by. The child stopped, said something to his mother, and pointed at Pierce. The mom looked in, her eyes widening when she saw Pierce. She scooped up the child and hurried along.

  Although Pierce didn’t care for people fucking checking him out, probably feeling threatened, he knew it was unavoidable. He’d had people walk across the street just so they didn’t have to cross paths with him on the sidewalks. It was a necessary evil of being in the club, because the reputation they had, the truth behind the rumors, made people scared of him.

  And if he wasn’t in a town where they knew who the Brothers of Menace MC was, they took one look at his tats, the piercing in his lip and ear, the sheer size of him, and the sight of his cut, and that was all they needed to know they had to be wary. It was a human thing, a survival instinct, and it worked well, because Pierce didn’t want to be bothered with them anyway.

  He wanted that fear, that danger to surround him, to be instilled in people when they saw him. That was what made him powerful.

  “So,” she said softly, looking down at the table and the random books scattered along the top of it. “What exactly did you want to see me about? Where exactly did you see this,” she gestured between them with her hand, “going?”

  Her eyes looked so blue, yet seeing them reminded him of her father, of the things Cain would do if he found out Pierce was here with Fallina, found out about the things he wanted to do with her.

  He leaned forward, rested his forearms on the table, and stared at her so hard he saw her squirm in her seat. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t fucking around with this, that she wasn’t just a piece of ass to him. And he sure as hell didn’t want her thinking, in any shape or form, that he wanted to blackmail her or some shit.

  “Let’s get a few things straight, put this right on the table.” He saw the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat, knew she was nervous. He could practically smell it in the air, and despite his desire for her, this twisted need rose up in him. He liked that she was a little afraid, a little nervous around him.

  “Okay,” she said a little timidly, and a part of him didn’t want her that way, didn’t want her looking at him like he was about to pounce on her.

  He’d done a lot of bad shit in his life, and would continue to. It was who he was, how he was bred, and in the very make-up of his DNA. “I told you this back in that alley, but I’ll say it again because I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

  “Shhh,” the older librarian said, a scowl
on her face when Pierce looked over at her.

  He looked at Fallina again, saw her eyes were wide, her focus on him. “I am not here right now because I just want to fuck you,” he said in a low voice. “I am not here with you because I’m trying to get after you in return for keeping my mouth shut when it concerns what you do on the side and your dad knowing.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed.

  “I am here because since I first saw you on that stage, I wanted you. Yeah, it started out as a physical thing. I won’t lie about that, but it changed into something more, something almost akin to obsession.”

  Her eyes widened another fraction.

  “Does it frighten you to know I would go to the strip club, sit in the darkened corner, and just watch you, imagining what it would be like to possess you, own every inch of your body?” He spoke so low he knew only she could hear. She didn’t answer right away, and it seemed the air became hotter, thicker, and her fear and even curiosity over it all surrounded them until he couldn’t breathe.

  She nodded. “But it shouldn’t.”

  “And why is that?” he asked and lowered his gaze to her lips. They were full, lush, and pink. Totally fucking kissable, and even though he wanted to taste them, to see if they were as soft and sweet as they looked, he also couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d look like wrapped around his cock.

  Yeah, he was a sick bastard, but it was not something he could help. It wasn’t something he could stop.

  “Because I know how the men in the MC are, grew up around it.”

  Yeah, she knew about them, knew about their desires, about the fact when they wanted something they wanted it hard and didn’t stop until they got it. She was what he wanted, and he knew even if he had her under him, his cock inside of her, he’d still want more from her. He’d want … her, all of her.

  She’d be his, only his, and she’d realize that sooner or later.

  Chapter Seven