So, yeah, we were sleeping sleeping together.
I squished the weird surge of disappointment, trying to convince myself that it was for the best. He was bad news. I was a good girl. Not to mention I really wasn't in a place where I should even consider such things. I had just been kidnapped, beat, and starved for months. Months. And I was considering having sex with a relative stranger just days after getting away. Days.
I was having some pathetic White Knight syndrome.
Except Reign couldn't be further from a White Knight.
I slid into the empty side of the bed, curling up on my side away from him, staring into the relative darkness of the room. Behind me, Reign was still. Still for long enough that I figured he had fallen asleep. I let out a long breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, and closed my eyes.
But they sprang right back open a few seconds later when Reign's hand landed hard on my hip, pulling it backward until I was laying flat on my back. Then his body was half covering mine, his forearm pressed into one of my sides, his palm flat on the mattress on the other side.
“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling my heartbeat speed up, his warmth sinking into my skin and sending a small shiver through my body.
“They hurt you?” he asked, making me jerk back unexpectedly.
“What?” I asked, my voice airy.
“Those fuckers... did they...”
“No,” the word rushed out of me, frantic to be shared. Of all the things that had happened to me, of all the things that were whispered promises of what was to come, it never got there. “No,” I said again, more firmly. “It never got that far. They came in at night, drunk, and would... grope me and threaten me. But they weren't allowed to... do that.”
“Thank fuck,” Reign said, his breath exhaling, his body losing some of its tension.
“Reign,” I said again, looking up at his face- the unfair perfection there. His hazel eyes were lowered and I found my hand reaching out, stroking down the side of his face. His gaze flew to mine, intense, searing into me. “What are you doing?”
As an answer, his head lowered, turning to the side, his lips landing on the sensitive skin of my neck, making my body buck slightly under his, my hand flying out to land on his arm. His tongue slipped out, sliding upward toward my ear, his mouth closing over the lobe and sucking on it. I felt a surge of desire, wetness dampening my panties, as his warm breath tickled across my ear.
His head shifted, his lips moving to my jaw and kissing downward slowly. My lips parted seconds before his found mine. There was none of the teasing sweetness at the contact. His lips were bruising into mine. Hungry. Urgent. My belly curled in on itself, my hand going to the back of his head, slipping into his hair and holding him to me as my lips responded, parting, letting him slip inside, his tongue desperately seeking mine. My back arched upward into his chest and his body shifted, coming fully over mine, his thighs pressing mine apart so he could settle there.
I moaned against his lips and his head lifted, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. His mouth opened to say something, then thought better of it, and closed. He pushed himself backward, sitting back onto his ankles and my body felt it's absence like a physical pain.
His hands moved downward, grabbing my sides, and pulling me upward toward him. As soon as my eyes were level with his chest, his hands slipped to the hem of my tee, grabbing it, and quickly pulling it up and over my head.
His hands went to the skin of my back and I stiffened, feeling a surge of insecurity at the scars his hands were running over. But his fingers didn't hesitate. They ran over the marks gently, like he was trying to memorize them, before his hands settled up on my shoulders and pressed me back flat against the mattress.
His eyes stayed on my face for a long moment. My bare breasts ached, heavy, my nipples hardening in anticipation. His hands moved to my belly, stroking upward, teasing across the sensitive skin underneath my breasts.
“Perfect,” he said quietly, his hands moving upward and cupping my breasts, squeezing hard. I arched up into his touch, a groan escaping my lips. His hands left me, replaced with fingers, rolling and pinching the hardened points until I was writhing underneath him.
I expected him to bend forward, to take me in his mouth, for his tongue to continue the sweet torment his fingers started.
Instead, he moved backward, his hands slipping into the waistband of my pants and pulling them down. Pulling them off completely, discarded off the side of the bed.
He moved toward me again, his fingers stroking up my thighs, over my hips, up my belly. They ran over my breasts again, then disappeared.
Then he was down, stomach on the mattress, propped up on his forearms. His hands went to my thighs, pulling them open, pressing them down hard, making me immobile.
Then his mouth was on me.
I mean... on me.
His tongue stroked up my slick cleft slowly, making my breath catch in my chest. He moved upward, circling around my clit, but not touching it until I was writhing, my hands reaching down and slipping into his hair, until I was struggling for breath.
“Reign...”
His tongue pressed down hard on my clit and I was pretty sure I flew out of my body for a second before crashing back down into the sensation, my hips rising to meet him as he started working fast circles around the sensitive bud, his pace quick and unrelenting.
I felt the pressure building, a tight, coiled feeling deep inside, making me beyond need, beyond shame as I moaned loudly, my hands tugging hard at his soft hair.
“Reign... please...” I begged, my thighs starting to shake, my back arching off of the bed.
Then he finally put an end to the torment.
His tongue slipped away, his lips closing around my clit and sucking hard.
I crashed through my orgasm, my sex clenching almost painfully as he kept sucking, his tongue stroking out at the same time. My entire body did one hard shudder as his name moaned out of my lips.
I came down slowly, Reign's tongue lapping gently over my clit a few more times before he slowly pulled away, kissing up the center of my belly.
His lips found my neck for a second then his head lifted, looking down at me. “Sweet fucking pussy,” he said, and I felt a surprised, half horrified laugh escape my lips, my face blushing painfully. Because the men I had known, the few I had been intimate with, would never have said something like that. I wasn't sure I had ever heard a man I was with even say the word 'pussy' let alone tell me that mine was sweet.
“That's funny?” Reign asked, his lips quirked up at one side.
I put a hand over my mouth. “Unexpected,” I said through my fingers.
“Yeah?” he asked, looking like he was considering that. “Don't know why. Could eat that pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“Oh my god shut up,” I groaned, covering my face with both my hands, feeling at once embarrassed and so turned on it was painful. Because, well, Reign eating me out three times a day... yum.
Reign chuckled, the sound low and deep and so sexual that I felt a rush of heat between my thighs. I felt him move, the mattress shaking slightly, before his hands came down on top of mine, pulling them from my face.
“You're done being shy,” he said. Said. It wasn't a question. He let one of my hands go, and it fell down by my side. He pulled the other one forward and down. Down. Until I felt him curl it around his hard cock.
Alright.
It was official.
Reign was pure, magical, masculine physical perfection.
His hand squeezed mine and pushed it down the long path to the hilt. And I mean long. And thick, my fingers barely meeting around him. His hand slipped away and I felt mine stroking him, wanting to touch every inch of his hardness, my hand slipping up and my thumb stroking over the wet head.
“Yeah, you're done being shy,” he said, his voice sounding husky as I started stroking him fast and hard.
His body shifted, his legs going on the outside of my chest, his hips pi
voting and lowering toward my face. His hand went back over mine, pushing it to the base, and then pushed his cock against my lips until I opened around him and his cock slid inside.
He let out a low, growling sound, pushing his hips forward, his hand slipping down the side of my face and grabbing my hair.
Emboldened, my lips tightened around him, my tongue stroking over the head in lazy circles until his hand yanked hard at my hair and his hips shoved forward, his cock pushing deep, lodging up against the back of my throat. My gag reflex clenched then subsided as he rocked into me.
“Eyes,” he commanded, his voice a harsh whisper. I opened my eyes, looking up at him. “Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes for a second, then pulling away from me.
His body lowered back down, pushing between my legs. His lips found mine, hard and hungry, his teeth biting into my lips, making me gasp. He reached out and I heard the drawer in the nightstand open. I heard the crinkle of the wrapper as he released a condom. His hips lifted from mine as he made quick work of protecting us.
Then his body pressed back down, his cock pushing against my inner thigh, making me arch up against it. His arms slipped under my back, coming up around my shoulders and holding them hard. His face lifted. “This ain't gonna be soft and sweet,” he warned, sounding about as far gone as I felt.
My mouth opened and my lips found words they had never uttered before, words I felt down to my soul. “Fuck me, Reign,” I commanded, my hips grinding up against him.
His eyes heated, his hand going between us. Then his cock was pressing against me, pausing, waiting. My hands went around his back, my legs up around his hips. “Reign... now... please...”
His cock slammed forward, pushing in completely. So deeply it ached. His thickness stretching me to accommodate him. I let out a gasp, my hips bucking up in surprise and the barest twinge of pain.
“So fucking tight,” he said, his mouth clenched.
His face lowered, taking my mouth, his tongue pushing inward as he withdrew and thrust forward. Not soft. Not sweet. Hard. Fast. Like promised. My legs wrapped tight against him, rising up to meet his thrusts- a clawing need like I had never known before overtaking me, making me cry out against his lips as he slammed into me over and over, my entire body jerking with the motion, his fingers bruising into my shoulder, my nails clawing into his back.
“Reign... fuck... I'm...”
“Come,” he commanded against my mouth, raising his head up to watch me. “Don't fucking close your eyes,” he said as I felt them get heavy as I suspended on the edge before toppling over. “Come for me, Summer,” he growled.
Then I did. Hard.
Then he did. Just as hard.
And I felt shattered. Broken open. In a million little Summer-shaped pieces.
And nothing had ever felt more right.
Seventeen
Reign
She held on after, her legs around my hips, her arms around my back. The back she had clawed open. Her body shook in aftershocks and I buried my face in her neck until she slackened. I leaned down, kissing her lips hard before pulling away, walking into the bathroom to deal with the condom and get myself together.
Because some shit went down in that bed.
Something I didn't understand.
Didn't even want to try to.
But something happened.
And I needed to get my fucking head on right.
It wasn't just the sex. Though, fuck, the sex...
I'd had more than my fair share of women. I had had two or three at a time. I'd shoved it in one chick's ass while she ate out another chick. I'd had two bitches fight over sucking my cock. I'd done every sordid thing you could imagine, letting the filth settle in my soul.
I knew good sex.
But being inside Summer, in her mouth, in her pussy... being inside her was a whole other level. A level I didn't know existed. A level I planned on spending a lot of time exploring in the future.
But it wasn't the new level sex. It was something else.
Something that made me want to get a “Property Of Reign” cut made for her. Something that made me want to grab her, throw her on my bike, and take the fuck off with her. Away from V and his memories. Away from my men. Just away. Just the two of us. No more responsibilities, no more fear.
Because I knew one thing about Summer Lyon.
She wasn't meant for a man like me. With a life like mine.
She was meant for penthouse apartments and designer clothes and safety.
She was meant for the clean life.
And I was nothing but violence, blood, and filth.
I sighed, washing my hands, going back into the bedroom. She was laid up under the sheets, her legs to her chest, her face half on my pillow. I slipped under the covers and she made a murmuring sound, half asleep, snuggling up onto my chest as I laid down.
She slept.
I laid awake.
Later. A lot later. Closer to morning than night, two knocks sounded on my door. Then there was a short pause. Then three knocks.
Fuck.
I slipped out from under Summer, watching her mumble something in her sleep and curl up again, dead asleep. I grabbed my pants, hauling them up my legs, and made my way to the door.
And there was Cash. And Wolf.
“Fuck is it?” I asked, rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face.
“Boys caught someone on the grounds,” Cash said, his jaw tight.
“Who?” I asked, moving back inward, grabbing a shirt out of the dresser, then grabbing my key and tucking it in my pocket.
“We think its one of V's guys.”
“What?” I half-shouted, tensing, looking back over my shoulder, to see Summer still fast asleep.
I stepped into the hall, closing and locking the door.
“Dunno, man. He ain't talking. But who the fuck else could it be?”
I nodded, making my way down the hall. “Well I guess we have to fucking make him talk then, don't we?” I asked. “He in the shed?” I asked and Wolf nodded his head at me. “Who is with him?”
“One of the probates,” Cash said, looking uneasy as I felt with that prospect. “He's cuffed.”
I tore through the compound, taking across the field at a dead run, unlocking the door Cash or Wolf had remembered to bolt on their way to find me.
The shed was a normal wooden one that we reinforced with soundproofing material and cinderblocks and plumbed a drain into the floor.
A lot of blood got spilled in the shed.
And it looked like tonight there would be a lot more.
Inside, the probate was standing three feet away from the man cuffed to the chair, his legs wide, one hand curled into a fist, one holding a bat, his knuckles white he was gripping it so hard. He had a taste for blood. I liked that in my men.
“Proby,” I said, my voice gruff.
He turned, young. But strong. Fierce. I didn't know much about the probates until they got patched-in. But this one had a past. You could see it in the hardness in his dark blue eyes. You could clearly see it in the scar that ran down the side of his face, cutting off at the sharp jut of his jaw. He'd seen some shit. He had done some shit. He was going to make it into the Henchmen. No question about it. “Prez,” he said, nodding his chin at me and moving back to lean against the wall.
“You catch him?”
He nodded his head. “Drifter spotted him, but he got taken down.”
“He breathing?”
“Doc's got him,” he nodded.
“Good job...” I trailed off, not ashamed of not knowing his name.
“Repo,” he supplied, nodding, silently going to the door and letting himself out, knowing it was official business and he wasn't in the inner circle yet.
I looked down at the guy on the chair. Tall and muscled. Brown hair. Bright blue eyes. “Fuck you doin' on Henchmen turf?” I asked, feeling my tiredness slip away, replaced with the charging blood in my veins.
“Taking a little early morning st
roll,” he said casually, smirking.
Great. He was gonna be difficult.
Well, at least I could enjoy my time with him.
My fist cocked back, swinging forward, and landing hard enough into the man's jaw to hear a crack. His neck flew in the other direction, but he simply snapped it back, grinning with blood in his mouth.
“Not getting shit from me, man. You might be bad. But I've known worse.”
“You work for V?” I asked, my fist landing to his nose before he even had a chance to think about answering.
All I got was a laugh.
And I saw red.
And then I spilled it.
A lot of it.
“Prez,” Wolf said, his hands grabbing my arms and pulling me backward. I fought against his hold for a minute, my blood surging too hard in my ears to think straight. “Gettin' nowhere,” Wolf reasoned.
I took a breath, settling down enough for Wolf to let me go, staring at the punching bag I had made of the trespasser. Who was still just sitting there, grinning away.
“Fuck,” I growled.
“Bro,” Cash cut in, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Think maybe you should bring her down?” he asked.
“Bring who down?”
“You know who,” he answered, a brow lifted. “She might be able to give us proof.”
“No fucking way,” I said immediately, thinking of the sleeping Summer up in my bed- peaceful, happily fucked.
“Only way,” Wolf reasoned.
They were right. I knew they were right. And that was the worst part.
I wanted there to be some other choice. Any other choice.
But they were right.
I had to ask that of her.
And she might never forgive it of me.
“Fine,” I growled, taking off toward the door. “You stay here,” I told Wolf, slamming the door.
But I ended up slamming it into Cash as he followed me out. “Yo slow the fuck down,” he said, looking up at the slowly rising sun.
“What?” I growled, stopping short to glare at him.
“Think maybe you should at least wash your hands before going up there?” he asked.
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