Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77233-551-4
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
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WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ROOK’S CONTROL
The Brothers of Menace MC, 7
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
Bobbie loved him, loved a man that didn’t look at her as anything more than a sweet-butt, a club whore, and a woman that was there to fuck and please the other members of The Brothers of Menace. And even knowing that, knowing Rook would probably want nothing to do with her that went beyond submitting to him and spreading her legs, she loved him.
God, she loved him so much, and that frightened her. Yes, she truly had to be a masochist to keep coming back to him, knowing she wouldn’t get more than what he was willing to offer her.
Chapter One
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 her 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, but 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 becoming wetter, her nipples tighter, and had her heart racing.
For several moments she stood there, facing his bed. She looked at the posts on each side, and then lowered her gaze to the foot of the mattress. Her palms started to sweat as she imagined herself restrained for Rook, her arms at the top, bound, her legs below in the same fashion. He’d bound her before, whipped her with his belt, his hand, then pleasured her and made her 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, 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, 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 in 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 got 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, 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, and 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 h
is 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 looked 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 out, 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, sparking 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 Two
All Bobbie could think about was Rook, about how he’d all but pushed her aside, made her feel worthless, like she wasn’t anything to him.
He made you realize what you are to him.
Bobbie tired to clear her head as she sat in her car in front of the club, but she just kept replaying the night that had brought all this shit down concerning them, had made her feel like nothing. She knew that having sex with Rook hadn’t been anything more than that, but before she could have told him how she felt, it had all gone to hell.
“You looking for Fallina?” Bobbie said, answering Cain’s question.
Cain turned and looked at her. “Yeah, I think she went to bed though.”
Bobbie set the empty glasses she held on the table. “I think she was talking with Pierce.” She smiled at the biker. “I think there is something there. He seems pretty into her.” She didn’t miss how Rook froze.
Cain looked toward the hallway, his face stoic, but his body going rigid.
“They’ve been in her room this whole time?” Cain asked slowly.
Bobbie didn’t know what in the hell was going on, or why Cain seemed so angry all of a sudden. She smiled and nodded, hoping what she said hadn’t just screwed something up. Maybe being honest was the best route? “Yeah, I think so. He’s been watching her like a hawk since he got to the clubhouse and left the meeting room…” She stopped talking when saw the expression on Cain’s face. She then turned and looked at Rook. Yeah, judging by their expressions she’d fucked up.
And then Cain was out of his seat, the barstool falling to the ground, the beer bottles tipping over, beer dripping on the counter and floor.
“Oh my God. Did I start something?” she said, feeling her eyes go wide, her voice slightly shaking.
“Yeah. You started something pretty big,” Rook ground out. He stood, walked by her, and when she reached out and grabbed his hand, she hated how tense he was.
“Rook—”
He turned and shook her hold off of him. “Bobbie, you should have kept your mouth shut, but you had to keep going on about Pierce wanting Fallina.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she stood there feeling like shit.
She hadn’t meant to start any trouble.
“You hear about the shit that happened with Lucien and Kink?”
She nodded slowly, realization suddenly dawning on her after the fact. “I hadn’t even realized. I wasn’t thinking—”
“No, you weren’t thinking.”
She stood up straighter, her annoyance rising. “Judging by how you’re reacting you clearly already knew.”
He just shook his head. “Just stay away from this shit, and worry about yourself.”
She was hurt and starting to get pissed. “Why are you being so cruel right now?” she asked.
“Listen,” he said in a softer voice, but that pissed her off even more. “You’re a club whore, Bobbie, nothing more. I like to fuck you, and I make sure you get off. But that’s it.”
Shock, hurt, and rage filled her. She could see he was pissed and knew her words had started something big concerning Cain and Pierce, but what Rook had just said was like someone had torn her heart out and cut it open in front of her. She tried to hide the hurt that she knew was covering her face, but she couldn’t help it.
He turned and left her standing there, her throat tight, her body feeling bereft.
Coming back from that memory, she looked around at the club again. Bobbie had to talk to him, had to tell Rook how she felt. Bobbie hated that the last conversation they’d had before he left on that MC business, the one that had put everyone on lockdown, had been less than comforting. But what did she expect? She knew Rook wasn’t the relationship type, knew that he couldn’t possibly feel the kinds of things she felt for him. But she had to tell him how she cared for him, how she loved him.
She climbed out of the car, ready to do this, or at least trying to be ready.
It felt like something was leaving her, like she’d just lost a part of herself. It was this empty feeling inside of her. It hurt, it really did, but she didn’t know if trying to heal that pain would benefit her in the end.
The thought of Rook dismissing her, telling her that she was nothing but a club whore, resonated in her and had this fear growing, festering inside of her. It was true, of course. She did have the title of club whore, and she hated it, she really did.
Bobbie wanted to be Rook’s old lady.
She’d slept with a few of the guys in the club already. That wasn’t a lie. There had been a prospect and two of the patched-in members that weren’t taken, but that had been before she’d seen Rook, and knew that there was something inside of him that called to her. She’d given herself to Rook, fallen for him, and obeyed him when he said she was to sleep with no one else. She hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t even wanted to think about those things.
Rook had been the only one she’d been with, the only one she’d want to be with.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt so exposed, even though she was fully clothed. In fact, this was the most she’d ever worn while at the cl
ub, yet she felt bared for everyone. And given the looks she got from the other sweet-butts and the Patches as she passed them, she knew they didn’t approve of her attire.
Well, none of that mattered, because she was here for one thing, and one thing only, and that was to finally lay it all bare for Rook.
She moved over to the bar, placed her hands on the countertop, and saw that they shook. Curling her nails into her palms, she took a stuttering breath. “You seen Rook?” she asked Tank. The tall and heavily muscled prospect wiped down the counter and shook his head without looking up.
“Nah, haven’t seen him lately.”
“I think Rook and the other guys are in the backroom. I heard that they were partying,” Nilla, which was short for Vanilla, said. She was a newer sweet-butt, one that liked to give blowjobs, or maybe it was just that she did it well enough that the guys kept calling her over for more. Either way she was nice, if a bit on the young side. Hell, Bobbie didn’t think she was more than twenty.
“In the backroom?” Bobbie asked, her throat dry.
“I think they are partying, and rightly so.” Nilla set glasses on the counter. “Why aren’t you back in that room getting drunk, getting high, and getting your nuts off?” Nilla said to Tank.
Tank gave out a low grunt and continued cleaning the counter. “I can do that shit when this place is clean. I’m here to earn my place, not fucking party. I ain’t a Patch yet.” Tank was a hardcore guy. Prospect or not, he was scary, and once he was a Patch Bobbie knew he’d be one of the strongest men here. He didn’t get his nickname for nothing.
While Tank and Nilla talked, well, Nilla mostly because Tank just gave gruff noises in response to questions asked to him, Bobbie turned and headed down the hall. She passed the closed room where moaning was coming from, knew the guys were letting off steam in the form of getting pussy, and finally stopped at the last door on the left.
Rook's Control Page 1
