by Cove, Vivian
Ransomed MC Princess #1
by Vivian Cove
***
I've had two great loves in my life. One I fought against and one I succumbed to. One was my light and the other pulled me into darkness.
This isn't the story of how I was taken captive. This is the story of everything that led up to it--every beautiful, aching, passionate moment that created the memories I live for even though it hurts so much to remember them.
I was the President's daughter. He was the son of the VP. Everyone but us thought we were made for each other. I couldn't believe how stupid they were until the night I finally saw the boy I grew up with as the man he'd become...
The night everything in my world changed...
The night I met him.
Damien thought he'd saved me. Instead, he sealed my fate.
Prologue
His fingers slide up my back as his cock teases my slit. “Look at how wet you are for me.”
The betrayal between my thighs sickens me. I shudder, repulsed by my desire, but the movement brings us closer and then I start shuddering for a different reason.
He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls my head back until our lips almost touch. “Open for me.”
I spread my legs. My knees and the balls of my feet on dig into my bed. My nails scrape the bed sheets before I find my grip.
He slips one of his lethal fingers inside me and I gasp as my cunt instinctively squeezes him. You see, I love it. The degradation. All the horrible, beautiful things he does to me.
And he knows it.
“Come on, Annabel. Show me how much you love my cock.”
I grit my teeth.
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout you all day.” His belt buckle presses against the back of my thigh. “About how you scream when I grab your ass and take what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.” My soft voice is easy to ignore, but he doesn’t.
His fingers dig into my hips—into the tattoo of another man’s name. “Yeah you are, sweetheart. Fuckin’ mine. Only mine.” In one effortless, fluid motion, he thrusts himself inside me balls deep.
I cry out as he pushes into me and pulls back out, teasing me. He’s going to keep doing this until I break. Every time I promise myself I won’t give in, I tell myself that I’m stronger than this, but we both know the truth.
I live for it.
I am a betrayer.
I am even worse than him, because my body is willing to betray my heart.
Damien…
No. I won’t. No. No. No.
Damien…
I think of him putting his jacket on my shoulders, draping them over me. “I want you to be my mine, Princess.”
I’m so afraid. So fucking afraid and so excited, my heart is beating so fast. “My dad’s gonna kill you.”
He leans down with a smile, backlit by a shining sun. The moment is perfect, fucking perfect. ‘You deserve better than me, but I can’t help it. l already fucked you, babe. Already made you mine. I want to put my patch on you.”
I shiver, everywhere. “Damien…”
“Look at me, Princess.”
I do, up into his big, brown eyes.
“I’m gonna love you forever. Don’t you doubt that, not for one second. For fucking ever.”
I scream. I want Damien’s words out of my head. I don’t deserve them. What I’m doing is horrible, it’s unforgiveable, but I can’t help but give in. I should hate it every time this monster touches me after everything he’s done. Instead, I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
“Cum for me, Annie,” my captor whispers with agonizing softness.
I do. I can’t deny him anything, no matter what it costs me. I convulse as I let go, surrendering everything, crying out his name as his teeth bite down on my neck. I grind my hips into his pelvis, giving him all of me.
He pumps his seed deep inside me, claiming me. For a moment I just revel in the feeling of it, of becoming undone in his arms as his cock releases into me, bathing me in him. I collapse against his broad shoulders, panting, tasting his sweat.
His cock is still in me. “God damn you’re a good fuck.”
A good fuck. That’s all I am now. I remember Damien holding my face between his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I love you, Princess.”
I push myself off his gleaming, gigantic cock and get off the bed. His semen leaks between my thighs.
“On your knees,” he demands. I immediately drop knees, looking up at him as he jerks his cock. It’s already hard again.
I wish the nightmare was over, even just for tonight, but it’s just begun. I am everything he wants me to be. Whatever he wants me to be. I’m going to do this again and again. I’m going to betray everyone I love in our enemy’s arms. And this monster before me is going to make sure I enjoy every second of it.
Self-loathing floods me. “I hate you.”
He looks at me a long time, and something that I would have once thought was sadness fills his expression. “I know.”
Chapter 1
10 years ago
Damien and I didn’t exactly have the best start. I met him was the first time I was allowed to visit the Dawn’s Rebellion MC’s compound. It was been a sunny day and Cheyenne, my dad’s Old Lady, and I rolled in on her sky blue convertible. We’d driven with the top down and our hair was a mess.
The gate was open when we got there. She circled the huge lot before stopping the car next to a row of bikes. “You ready, hon?” she asked with a tight smile.
I nodded and clutched the special necklace I always wore around my neck, unable to contain my excitement. Most people only saw an ancient locket on an old chain; Cheyenne said I should tell those people they weren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate antiques. Every time I held it I thought of the strength of the boy who gave it to me. I wondered what he’d think about how far I’d come now. I wondered if he’d be proud of me.
“Well, there it is.” Cheyenne gestured towards a ranch-styled, white lodge with evergreen trim and a gigantic warehouse. “Is it everything you dreamed of?”
I clutched the car door. The place was so much bigger than I thought it would be. I wanted to get out and explore. “Yes!”
She sighed and shook her head, her cherry-colored hoop earrings bopping against her neck. With gold eyes, short dark hair and caramel skin, Cheyenne was the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. She wasn’t the woman who brought me into this world, but when I’d shown up on her and my daddy’s doorstep she’d welcomed me into her home as if I were her own. Cheyenne said she couldn’t have babies, so I was the little girl she’d always wanted. That couldn’t have made me happier, because she was the mom I’d always wanted, too.
Which was why I felt sort of bad about disappointing her today. You see, Cheyenne didn’t think the club would be a “good influence” on me. She’d wanted to keep me away as long as possible, but after six years of begging and pleading she’d finally given in.
“I swear to god, I don’t know why you even wanted to visit this place so bad,” Cheyenne muttered. “All they got here are broken cars and guys full of hot air.”
“Hey, daddy’s here, too!”
“Yeah, and he’s more full if it than most of ‘em.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Wish I’d brought a brush. We both look like we stuck a fork in a toaster.”
“I think you look pretty, Cheyenne.”
She grinned and pinched my cheek. “Thanks, hon. You look pretty good yourself. I’m gonna drop some papers off in the office like I said. Stay here. When I get back, we’ll go see your daddy.”
“Alright,” I promised. But after a few minutes alone in the car, I was bored. And the big line of motorcycles
right beside the car sure were shiny. So I decided to play on them.
“RAWR!” I yelled, clutching the handlebars. It had taken me a few tries to get on the bike, but I was feeling pretty stable. Well, for the most part. The bike was starting to wobble a little and I yelped. Maybe it’d be a good idea to take it down a notch.
I steadied myself and glared at the open road ahead of me. “Rawr,” I whispered.
I heard a coughing noise to my right.
Oh no. I was supposed to stay in the car. Cheyenne was gonna kill me, or at least never let me come to the compound again! I leaped off the bike and looked up.
The person standing in front of me wasn’t Cheyenne, it was a boy about my age.
He wore baggy jeans and a baggier white t-shirt. His sandy hair was a little messy. Not toaster-friend messy, but I’ve-been-working messy. His green eyes narrowed as he wiped some grease off his cheek with the back of his hand.
My heart started to beat overtime. He was cute. Boy band cute.
And then he ruined it by speaking.
“Who are you, and what the fuck are you doin’ here?”
I opened my mouth, shocked. Had that cute little boy just said the word ‘fuck’? To me?
I wasn’t gonna take that. “I belong here!” I told him.
“Yeah right. If your hair gets that messed up when you’re just sittin’ on a motorcycle, you got no business bein’ ‘round ‘em.”
Now he was insulting my hair? This boy was mean. I decided right then and there that I’d rather punch that mouth than kiss it.
He stepped forward.
I balled my hands into fists.
“Come on little girl. I’ll call your mom and she’ll take you home before you hurt yourself.”
“Who are you calling little? You’re as tall as I am. And for your information, I am home.”
“Stop your lyin,’ woman.”
What the…? Stop your lying woman? Really? What kind of weird kid says stuff like that?
“My dad’s the VP,” he continued. “I know everyone.”
I grinned. Now I had him. “Oh yeah? Well, my daddy’s president.”
The boy snorted. “Not possible.”
“What?” That comment was supposed to shut him up! What happened?
“There’s no way the president would have a scrawny little thing like you as his daughter. His daughter would be fuckin’ hot.”
I gasped. Everyone had always called me a beautiful little princess. No one had ever suggested otherwise…at least, no one had until him.
I took a deep breath. I would not cry. An MC Princess never cried.
She got even.
“Your dad is Gnarles, right?” I asked him.
He raised his eyebrow. I guess he didn’t expect me to know the VP’s name.
“I’ve met him a few times. He knows how to take care of a lady.”
He smiled. “Yeah, he sure does.”
“Well, too bad his little slimy shit spawn does not!”
The boy frowned and grabbed his stomach. His eyes bulged a bit.
Yes! I cheered silently. Fatality!
Then, he laughed so hard he fell to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you? That wasn’t funny!”
That just made him laugh harder.
“Hey! Stop it!” I stomped my foot. “Stop it!”
“Slimy shit spawn?” His voice was hoarse from rolling around and laughing so hard. “Where the fuck did you come up with something like that?”
I was about to open my mouth right up and tell him but a voice boomed from down the hallway. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”
The boy stopped laughing and immediately sat up. “Shit.”
Gnarles, the VP, was standing in the doorway. “I thought I raised you better than that. What the hell kind of language were you usin’ ‘round our princess?”
The boy looked at me as if I were a ghost and, smartly, did not bring up the fact that Gnarles had just used the words fuck and hell around me.
I grinned. “Told ya.” Revenge sure was sweet.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Gnarles stalked forward and the door slammed behind him. Then, he bent over and gently knocked his son on the back of his head.
“What the hell old man?” the boy yelled.
His dad looked pissed. Super pissed. I’d known Gnarles for a long time and I’d never seen him look like that at anyone. “You swearing in front of a lady? I thought I taught you better than that.”
“She’s just a girl, no lady,” the boy said, earning him another little knock. “Hey!”
“Is that why you decided to sass her?”
The boy glared at me. “She said I didn’t know how to treat a lady.”
“And obviously, you don’t.” Gnarles winked at me.
“Why thank you,” I replied. Then, I turned around and stuck my tongue out at his stinky son.
“Hey, she just stuck her tongue out at me!” his son yelled immediately.
“I know. I saw.” Gnarles lowered his head with a glint in his eye. “You gotta to learn to be more subtle, Princess.”
I gave Gnarles a shaky smile and he laughed.
“Then again,” Gnarles continued, “if you perfect that look, you’ll probably be able to get yourself out of just about anything.”
My eyes gleamed. “Really?”
Just then, the door opened and Cheyenne stepped out. Gnarles and the little boy immediately stood up straight.
“Hmmm…” she put a finger to her bottom lip, taking in the three of us. “What’s going on here?”
There was a telling moment of silence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in the car!” I blurted out. “I’ll stay in the car next time, I promise!”
She frowned at the boy. “It’s not you I’m worried about, hon.”
“We were all just getting to know each other,” Gnarles said. “Right, Damien?”
He squeezed his kid’s shoulder. “Right, right,” Damien said.
Cheyenne’s frown deepened. “I hope so. Come on, hon. Let’s go see your daddy.”
I just barely stifled the urge to stick my tongue out at the nasty little boy again. That’s right, not only was my dad the President, but my mom was Cheyenne!
***
The next day Cheyenne let me hang out at the club while she ran some errands. All the guys were in the shop working, so I sat on the hood of a cherry Benz and wiggled my pink heart scandals back and forth to AC/DC.
I’d already met most of the guys from the club at family dinners. They were all like family to me. Well, a leather-clad, kick-ass family who liked to eat way too much, as my Cheyenne liked to say.
I really didn’t mind about the “eating too much” part. It meant that there were a ton of tasty snacks in the garage. Everyone was happy I was finally there.
Everyone except for one person, that is.
“You gonna actually work in here, or did you just come here to dance around and eat all our food?”
My eyes narrowed at the slimy shit spawn. “Hi Damien.”
Ganja poked his head out from under the hood of a car. “Is he bothering you again, Annie?”
“No. Just trying to,” I yelled back, which made the guys laugh and really pissed Damien off.
I loved doing that. Pissing him off. Which I was swiftly learning was incredibly easy to do.
“Seriously, you’re useless,” Damien muttered under his breath, going back to work.
“Well if you think she’s useless, why don’t you teach her how to do what you do?” Gnarles yelled
Damien glared in his dad’s direction. “Shit.”
“What’s that?” Gnarles asked. “Did you just say you were really looking forward to teaching her?”
Damien shuddered. “I’d be fine with teaching her, but I don’t think she wants to learn.”
Oh man, he was lying through his teeth. This was gonna be fun. I slid off the hood of the car and landing on my feet with
a big smile. “I want to learn!”
“That’s a great idea,” Gnarles said.
“Yeah,” Ganja agreed.
My daddy grinned. “I’d love it if you learned how to work in the shop, Annie. Thanks for taking her under your wing, little man.”
Damien looked like he wanted to murder all of them. Slowly.
I smiled harder.
“You might as well wipe that grin right off your face, ‘cause this ain’t easy,” Damien told me.
“I can do it.”
Damien raised his eyebrows. “You think you can?”
“I know I can.”
“Yeah? How do you know?”
“Because if you can do it, anyone can.”
Damien grit his teeth. “Fine.” Then, he started telling me about his tools and told me to remember each one. Oh man, all I had to do was hand him tools? This was gonna be easy peasy.
“You got it?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Great. Pass me the Wudignzia.”
Except Damien hadn’t said ‘Wudignzia.’ That isn’t even a real tool, but he might have well have asked for one because I didn’t remember a thing he’d told me.
Oh no! I stared at the tools sprawled around my kneecaps. There were only seven of them, but it suddenly felt like seven hundred.
“Did you forget already?”
“No! I totally didn’t!” I yelled defiantly.
“Well, hurry up then. I don’t got all day.”
As my dad always said when my mama wasn’t around, shit! “Uh…” I grabbed the one in the middle with the big circle hanging off the end. That looked like a mighty fine tool. Mighty fine enough to be the one he’d asked for, even.
I handed it to him.
Damien looked at it, then back at me. “You don’t remember what I told you, do you?”
“Sure I do.”
He pushed himself out from under the car. We were the same age but with the grease smears on his cheeks he suddenly looked older. And his green eyes looked even more vibrant in the dusty, dark shop.
Not that I cared about stuff like that. He was still a jerk face.
So, no surprise, he decided to do something jerk-facey. “Oh yeah? What is that called?” he asked, pointing to one of the tools.
I followed to where his finger pointed. The tool was kinda long and lumpy and shiny looking. Long, lumpy, shiny thing. Hmmm… “That’s a Stinging Bat Wand.”
