by Amo Jones
Kicking out my leg, I watch as Wicked grabs one of the kitchen chairs and swings it around to sit on it backward. “Whoever he is, she’s protecting him for a reason.” I’m still not sure how I feel about Wicked and his play with Jade. I know that I trust him and his intentions, but knowing that he has fucked her doesn’t sit right with me.
In fact, it makes my fingers fucking itch to be around his throat. And hers.
“I don’t doubt that,” I say, flicking my lighter around my fingers. “She knows I’ll fucking kill him.”
“What’d you do when she was in high school with all her boyfriends then? Damn,” Gypsy mutters. “Fuck, Sick, you’re psycho over her.”
Silence. “It’s cute that you think I allowed that.”
“Poor bitch,” Gypsy jokes, shuffling in his seat.
Lion stands from the sofa. “Have you had any new videos sent to you?”
I grit my teeth, my blood dousing the flames that blaze in my chest. “Yes. There have been two.”
Lion pulls his keys out of his pocket. “Keep an eye on the videos while trying to control your woman. You going to be good going on your run tomorrow or should I send someone else?”
I flip Lion off. “Fuck you. I’ll be fine.”
Lion chuckles as he makes his way to the front door. He casts me one last glance before stepping through the threshold with Gypsy, Wicked, and Slim behind him.
Lion pauses at the threshold. “I never asked you about how she came about being your sister.”
“Hmmm,” I answer. “Because I don’t really tell anyone about it.” I lean forward until my elbows are pressed into my thighs. “She was dropped on our doorstep.”
Lion tilts his head, crossing his arms in front of himself. “You didn’t go through an adoption process?”
“No. Well, after she was left there, Mom and Dad did what they needed to do to find her family, but there was no record for her. Because of Dad, he pulled some strings and managed to legally adopt her after a child abandonment issue was released.”
“Does she know this?”
I lean back. “No, she thinks she was left at the orphanage and we went through the process that way.”
“Something ain’t right with that,” Lion says through a frown. “Sit out the run. Try to get to the bottom of whatever is going on with her.”
“Lion,” I growl. He knows damn well how much this club means to me and how I have never allowed anything to come near my club or brothers. Except you almost wanted to kill Wicked over Jade.
He shakes his head, throwing up his hands. I know there’s no getting through to the stubborn old bastard. “Sicko, take care of the girl. She’s your family, which means she’s our family. Shit is tight in the club right now. We haven’t had a war on our hands in the past year. Do whatever it is that you need to do.”
Flicking a toothpick around in my mouth, I grin at him. “I still want that run.”
“Fucking hell. Why?” Lion says, exasperated.
I take the toothpick out of my mouth and toss it onto the coffee table. “Because I have a lot of anger inside and it’s gotta come out one way or the other.”
“You wanna start a war?” Lion asks, one brow quirked.
“Nah, not this time.” I wink at him as he flips me off, slamming the door behind himself and then it’s just me.
And her.
In a house where we don’t have to be brother and sister.
Growling, I squeeze my eyes closed and try to cut out the memories of what she felt like wrapped around my cock that night. I should have picked up on it. Why the fuck didn’t I know it was her?
Three a.m. The red numbers that flash on the bedside table peer back at me.
Swinging my legs over the bed, I run my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of the way. I freeze when I remember where I am.
Royce.
Black silk sheets, inky covers, and white pillows. There’s a single art piece hanging on the wall, an empty canvas. White. Nothing painted on it. A large TV that takes up most of the wall hangs on the opposite side, with a chest of drawers below it.
Inhaling and exhaling, I try to pull myself together. Reaching for my phone on the bedside table, I flick through the home screen.
Nothing.
No missed calls, no text messages from James. The fact that he hasn’t reached out to me sends fear rustling through me. Pushing off the bed, I make my way to the door, swinging it open and browse down the long hallway. There’s a light that’s on at the end, so I make my way toward it, the cold floor pressing against the soles of my feet. My heart crackles in my chest, my stomach rolling with unease. I don’t know what Royce is going to be like when I see him.
I take the two steps that lead down into the lounge and kitchen area, pausing when I find him lying back against the sofa, an arm thrown over his face and his head resting on the back of it. He’s shirtless, with nothing but his jeans unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips, displaying his Calvin Klein briefs. It’s the first time I feel like I can see all of his tattoos. They’re mainly skulls and demonic faces of sorts, but with the numbers 2000 tattooed over his chest. My heart short circuits when I see the numbers—my numbers—the year I was born, painted into his skin with the same graffiti font he used to splash over Orson’s rock when we were kids.
I make my way farther into the room, picking up the bottle of whiskey that’s sitting on the coffee table and bringing the rim to my lips. I take a swig, running the palm of my hand down his shirt that I’m wearing. It has the words Wolf Pack MC on it, with their wolf emblem and California beneath that.
Placing the bottle back onto the table, I slide my thumb over my bottom lip, swiping away the excess liquid while taking him in again. His tight abs, the tattoos over his skin, his arms laced with muscles and bound by strength. He is everything bad. Everything that is wrong in the world comes in the package of Royce Kane, but he never opens that package near me.
Ever.
His knees are spread, his chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm. His lips are parted slightly, yet he looks peaceful. From what I can see. I know that he’s angry at me over Wicked, and I know that if he ever found out about James, he would probably cast me to the side like a used toy, but for right now, I need him. I want him in every single way that he has starved me from over the years.
Placing my legs on the outside of his, I slowly lower myself down on top of him, and he instantly stills beneath me.
“Jade.”
I press my finger to his lips. I need him.
Bringing myself down to him, I run my tongue over the rim of his lips.
His arm drops away from his face and my heart falls out of my chest. He is so fucking beautiful. His hair is messy on the top of his head, his eyes firm on me. “Duchess, we’re supposed to be siblings…”
I roll my tongue over the cut line of his sharp jaw and over the tattoos that decorate it. “Mmm, but siblings don’t know what each other tastes like.”
His body goes still beneath me, and just when I think he’s going to throw me off him, his arm hooks around my lower back, holding me hostage. His other hand comes behind my neck, clenching me roughly. He pulls my face down to his and smirks over my lips. “There’s no going back after this.”
I gulp. “I know.” I lean in to kiss him when he pulls back and picks me up from under my arms as if I weigh nothing, placing me on top of the coffee table.
He spreads my knees wide, running his hands up my inner thighs. “Shirt looks good on you.”
I sigh. “Shut up and take it off.”
“Nah, I’m leaving that on for now.” His head disappears between my thighs and my fingers find his hair. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching as his traps flex with every movement. His hands wrap around each thigh and he pulls me farther into his mouth. My head flies back as his tongue flicks over my clit.
I grind against his mouth as his tongue stays in the same place, sloppily licking me everywhere while soaking up my release. He sli
des his finger inside, and then another. I’m so close to release. I can’t breathe fast enough to catch up. Just as I’m near, he unlatches and runs his tongue over where my pussy meets my thighs. I yelp when his teeth sink into my skin, pushing at his shoulders. His mouth is back on me and his hands slipping under my ass, lifting me off the coffee table and standing to full height. I grip on to his hair as my thighs tighten around his neck.
“Royce, don’t drop me.”
He chuckles from between my thighs. “Not happening.” His mouth opens on my clit as he moves us back through the way I walked down and back into the room I woke up in. Throwing me onto the bed, he tilts his head, swiping his mouth with the cushion of his thumb while his other hand squeezes his bulging cock.
“Take it off.”
“What, this?” I ask innocently, batting my lashes while grabbing at his shirt.
His eyes narrow. “Now.”
I shrug off the shirt until I’m in nothing but my bra, crawling to the end of the bed. His eyes flash with heat, setting my cheeks on fire.
Tucking my finger into the waistband of his jeans, I pull him closer to me, as his fingers dive into my hair. “Duchess,” he says so simply, I almost wasn’t going to answer him.
“Mmm?” I peer up at him from beneath my lashes while tugging his jeans down past his cock. I need on it. My mouth waters from how much I need to taste him in my mouth. I need it. Him, this, whatever he gives me. It’s toxic, but I’d drown in his poison. He yanks my head backward by my hair and tilts his head. “Stand.”
I stumble to my feet, my lips curling between my teeth to stop my smirking. Got him.
“You think you’ve been fucked before, and that’s the problem.”
“How is that a problem?” I ask carefully, knowing that I’m balancing on his patience.
He grabs me by the back of my neck and shoves my face to his. “We’re going to kill each other. You know that, right?”
“That’s fine.” I run the tip of my finger over the hard curve of his jaw. “Fuck me like you want to kill me.”
His mouth curves in a sinister smirk. “Oh, but I do.”
“You’ve fucked me before, Roy. You know how I like it.”
He bites down on his lower lip. “Touché.”
His other hand comes to the front of my throat. “One more thing. I have a kink for the color purple.”
My brows furrow, and before I can connect the dots in my head, his grip around my throat tightens, cutting off any chance of me breathing. Got it. Loud and clear. He releases and I tuck my fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs, sinking to the ground while tugging them down with me until I’m face-to-face with his cock. The tight skin pulls around the tip where a silver ball sits on the head. Wetting my lips, I part them over his tip and roll my tongue underneath, sliding him deeper into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, and the handle he has on my hair tightens, his hips bucking forward. “Arch your back.” I follow his instructions, and when he moans again, I take him in farther. Sliding out, I twirl my tongue over his piercing and suck him back into my mouth, bobbing my head. His hips buck forward, my scalp stinging from his pulling.
Holding me by the back of my neck, he pulls out and squeezes my cheeks, leaning down to run the tip of his nose over mine. “The second I knowingly put my cock inside of you, that’s it. It’s game over.”
I nod, licking his precum off my lips. “Understood.”
Leaning down, he bites my lower lip into his mouth before standing and flipping me over onto my stomach. I land on the bed in a thud before he’s moving on top of me. “You’re on the pill, I presume…”
I nod, whipping my hair over my shoulder. “Yep.”
He stares at my body, a fist in his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ.” His eyes fly to mine. “How many men have you fucked?”
“Royce…” I whine, rolling my eyes. “Not doing this right now.”
“Answer,” he urges, and when he hovers over the back of me, his head tilting as his hand trails down the top of my spine. “Maybe not now, but you will be doing it.”
I’m almost certain I will not.
His teeth sink into the nape of my neck. “I’ll just have to fuck you hard enough to engrave the hard edges of my cock deep inside your cunt.”
His other hand comes to my hip and he raises me up until I’m on all fours, his hand at my hair and the other cupping my pussy from behind. His finger slides in and out, rolling around and spreading my wetness over my entrance. Being so exposed to Royce is enough to keep me wet for days, but he continues to torture me anyway. Finally, when I feel the tip of him brush over my entrance. He’s thicker than I remember. Heavy and angry. He pushes inside of me and I fist the sheets with my fingers, screaming out through my raw vocal cords as he continues to fill me to the brink.
He releases my hair and grabs on to the back of my neck as he picks up the pace. With every thrust, I slam back into him. Relentless, that’s how he fucks me. His hand tightens around the back of my neck as my pussy sings like a fucking siren for her release. He slows down the speed but intensifies the thrusting. Jolting me forward, he grinds into me as fire ripples through my veins and my muscles release the tension they’ve been holding on to. Wet cum drizzles down the inside of my thighs.
With sweaty hands, he pulls out of me and pushes me back down onto my back, my long dark hair sprawling out over his sheets. “Always knew you’d be beneath me one day…” He smirks, and I can’t even smile, that’s how exhausted I am.
He crawls over me, stretching my knees wide with his while his cock is at the entrance again. I search his eyes that are right above me, and I have to fight the emotion that’s roaring to the surface. Once he finds out the truth, he’s going to hate me.
His hand comes to my throat as his lips fall to mine. Just as he slips back inside of me, he kisses me. Not hard, or fast, or rushed. His lips move in perfect synchrony, as if kissing is his art and I’m the student. Our lips don’t break, and when he pulls out and slams back inside of me, I moan into his mouth as his fingers clench around my throat. And so it happens, the kissing, the slapping of sweaty bodies filling the room, the grunty groans, the slapping across my face, the smell of sex tainted in cigarette smoke. I’ve never felt so good while feeling so guilty at the same time. As if I know that this right here, with him inside of me is what home feels like, but the guilt that creeps into my bones reminds me that I’m not being honest with him. He has always protected me, and I know that the second he finds out that he failed in the worst way possible, he’s going to carry the guilt. So for now, while I have him, I’m going to drown in his poison and pray for a quick death.
His hips grind into me as he continues to ride my body over and over. Every now and then his grip around my throat would tighten, until I feel like my head is the shape of a balloon, but then he’d release it, and bite, gnaw at my neck like a vampire, breaking the flesh on my neck until blood slides down the curves of my throat.
“Royce,” I moan tirelessly, my thighs clenching around his waist. Our bodies are slick with moisture, my heart near flatlining.
His mouth is back on mine and I lose it, my insides turn to liquid fire, igniting my orgasm until I’m dripping down his cock and over my upper thigh in jolts of release.
He muffles his moans by biting down on my bottom lip as he pulses inside of me, his chest dropping down to mine.
Sedated, I wrap my arm around him as he slides off, tucking me into his chest.
He kisses my head. “You’re going to tell me who that man is, Duchess, and I’m going to make sure he knows exactly who he just fucked with.”
I fucked up last night, let shit slip. My restraint when it comes to Jade is imaginary and having her walk her sexy little ass onto my lap was like hanging bait in front of a starved wolf. I’m obviously going to fucking snap. I was weak, but it wasn’t wrong. It should be wrong, but when I’ve been fantasizing about having her under me for so long, having it finally happen only solidifies th
ose same feelings.
Feelings I sure as fuck cannot afford to have in my life.
“I fucked up,” I say to Wicked as soon as he pulls in behind me at the clubhouse.
“You fucked her again.” It wasn’t a question, it was a confirmation.
“Yeah, and what’s worse?” I add, smirking at him while pushing my keys into my pocket. “Is that I’m not letting her leave now.”
Wicked chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re a dumb fuck. Been fussy with your pussy for years, never fucked the same bitch twice—with the exception of Bea—and now all of a sudden you’re ready for a wifey.”
I flip him off. “I didn’t say that, I just mean she’s fucking with my head. I always knew the potential she could have with me, and it’s partially why I vowed to myself when I was a kid that I’d never touch her. Fucking tempted too, damn, there were a few close calls when we were kids when I almost fucking threw it all in and was ready to pursue her like that, but—” I pause as we reach the edge of the steps, turning my head over my shoulder. “—but she’s my fucking sister.”
Wicked shrugs, jogging up the steps. “Well, it could be worse. She could be your blood relative.”
We enter the crib and find Lion, Gypsy, and a few of the other brothers already there around the kitchen table. Lion narrows his eyes on me. “Can smell the pussy from here.”
“Yeah? Been that long since Bonnie let you slide between her lips?”
“Fucker.”
I blow a kiss at him while taking my place on his right. “Why’s everyone so fucking serious?”
Lion shuffles in his seat. “Something has happened overnight, and I’ve been waiting for you to arrive before I filled everyone in.”
Pulling out a cigarette, I bite it into my mouth while grabbing out my lighter. “I’m listening.”
Lion cracks his neck. “The supplier that your old man was dealing with turned up dead on the cartel’s front door.”
I blow out a cloud of smoke. “Sounds like a mafia problem, not an MC problem.”
