by Joanna Blake
Our bed.
“Yes, I’d say that’s pretty fucking good.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Michelle
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!!!”
I lifted my hips, trying to meet Mason’s tempo. But I was coming too hard. Mason had been fucking and licking and touching me for hours. He was very, very determined to make me come.
And he was very, very good at it.
I’d lost count around eight orgasms. He seemed insatiable for me, and I felt the same way. I felt the tingle I got right before he came. It was so intense. It made my orgasm peak even higher and roll out in another wave.
“Christ!”
He buried his face in my neck as he unloaded. He shuddered violently, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I shook right along with him.
He stayed inside me, unwilling to move, but careful not to crush me. Mason was a big man. Tall and thickly muscled. He could have crushed me or been rough. But he wasn’t.
Well, he was just rough enough. Demanding things from me with is hands and mouth and cock. And, good lord, did I like it.
“You okay?”
He kissed my neck and rolled to the side, bringing me with him.
“Hmmm…”
I smiled lazily and let my eyes drift shut.
“We should shower.”
“We should.”
I felt the rumble of his laugh in his chest.
“Okay, I can take a hint. Go to sleep, Mich.”
I wrapped one arm around him, letting my hand rest on his chest. Then I did exactly what he told me to.
I’d never felt so safe in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mason
I flipped the French toast, wondering if I should wake Michelle yet. It was late morning and she was still conked out. But Kelly was dropping Paton off soon, and I was pretty sure she would be embarrassed if Pate found her naked in my bed.
I smiled to myself. I’d scratched her itch but I wanted more. I wasn’t just going to be her fuck buddy. She’d told me she was mine.
I hoped she fucking meant it, because I wanted this to work for real. I was even imagining picket fences and baby carriages. Hell, I’d put on a suit for the woman if she’d agree to marry me. I never wore a suit. Not even for funerals.
Then again, I only attended those for my MC brothers, so nobody expected fancy duds. Now here I was, ready to get fitted for a monkey suit.
Oh yes, I was a goner. But I was fucking over the moon about it. I don’t think I’d ever been this happy in my life.
“Smells good.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Michelle leaning against the door frame. She was wearing my t-shirt. Her long legs were exposed and her hair was tousled waves. It was pretty obvious she’d been fucked and fucked well.
Goddamn, but she looked good!
I turned off the stove and crossed the room to get to her in a hot minute. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply.
“God, you look beautiful.”
She blushed and I threw back my head and laughed. I’d had her six ways from Sunday last night. I’d seen her bare ass naked from every angle. I’d buried my face in her pussy not just once or twice, but four times last night.
I was tempted to go for number five.
“I was about to get you up. Pate should be here in about a half an hour.”
She paled.
“Oh God. What am I going to tell her?”
I squeezed her.
“Tell her you are switching bedrooms.”
“Just that?”
She looked worried. Maybe she thought I just wanted sex. And I did want sex. A lot of it. But I wanted more.
I wanted the whole package.
“Tell her I’m your man.”
She looked startled and pleased at the same time. Damn, but the woman lit me up! I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. Well, minus the stiff prick. It’s too bad there wasn’t time for a quickie.
“You are?”
“Michelle… don’t you know how I feel about you?”
She shook her head ‘no’ so I kissed her long and deep. My hips started pressing into hers with a familiar rhythm.
“That’s okay, I’ll show you how I feel…” I groaned as my cock started making demands. “Damn, do you think we have time?”
“I should shower.”
“Okay.” I grinned. “There’s room for two in there.”
She blushed again but nodded shyly.
“What about your French toast?”
I squeezed her bottom.
“It’ll be fine.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Everything will be fine.”
And at that moment, I really believed that was true.
Chapter Thirty
Killer
It was daylight. Hundreds of people were inside the big box store I was parked behind. Maybe thousands. But back here? It was dead quiet.
Perfect.
The idea that people were so close… close enough to help… if only they knew.
Well, that only sweetened the murder. And for me, murder was already pretty sweet.
“For you, Dante.” I muttered, talking to myself.
I exhaled and popped the trunk. The meat was inside, still wiggling. But there was no way he could scream through his thick gag. No way he could break the zip ties I’d used to tie his wrists and ankles.
He was helpless. Just like a little pig in a slaughterhouse. There was only one way this was ending. He was getting cooked.
I rolled him onto the pavement. It looked like it hurt. I kicked him just for good measure.
“I’m gonna torch your bike. Maybe even torch your old lady.”
He grunted vehemently through the gag. I was tempted to cut out his tongue, but he might have a chance to scream.
“Snitches get stitches.” I murmured to myself.
Ronnie wasn’t a snitch. But his brother was. And he’d been nosing around since I offed his piece of shit brother a few weeks ago. The fucker was on to me, and I didn’t know how.
I was a ghost.
My best friend Dante had been the Raisers’ Prez until that crazy motherfucker Shane took him out. I wanted to destroy Shane. But I couldn’t find even one weak spot.
Not yet.
So I was cutting all ties instead. Anyone who even got close was gonna pay. Just like they had been since Dante took power. Ever since that fucking kid all those years ago.
Investigative journalist, my ass.
He’d come sniffing around the wrong MC. There were plenty of poser clubs out there. Guys who had seen too much TV and wanted the lifestyle without the actual commitment. Without getting their hands dirty.
There were so many places he could have gone. Plenty of clubs that used to be legit but had toned the criminal stuff way down. Less drugs and violence. More investments in legit businesses and shit.
Not the Raisers though. We were still old school and hard core. And that little prick had found out just how hard core we were.
We’d sent that rich little fucker home in a body bag.
Minus his baby blues. Dante himself had torn them out while the kid was still kicking. I knew, because I’d held the kid down and handed Dante the knife.
Dante had kept those blue eyes in a jar of formaldehyde for years. Now I had them. I talked to them sometimes.
William had been the kid’s name. And he’d used his whole fucking name. What kind of motherfucker didn’t go by Bill?
So yeah, I talked to William sometimes. I talked to Dante too. His eyes were in a jar right next to them. I’d dug his ass up to get them.
If that made me batshit crazy, I didn’t much care.
“Should I take your eyes first? Or have a little barbecue?”
I pulled out my pocket knife and turned it over in my hand.
“Well, maybe just one eye. Then into the dumpster you go.” I pulled out a jug full of gasoline. “With a little seasoning of course. Can’t have a good barbecue wi
thout some marinade.”
He started struggling in earnest then. But I was a big fucking guy. Bigger than most. I knelt on his chest and dug out his left eye. He was screaming through the gag now, with blood pouring down his face.
I tossed his eye on the ground and let him watch as I stepped on it. That thing popped like a grape. Even I thought it was a little gross.
“In you go.”
I hoisted Ronnie up and into the dumpster. I didn’t have time to draw this out. Besides, he was an inconvenience, not a snitch.
With a snitch I liked to take my fucking time.
I looked over the edge as I poured the gasoline over the flailing man.
“Your old lady works here, doesn’t she?”
I lit a match.
“I wonder if she’ll smell your meat cooking. I wonder if it will make her hungry. I think I’ll pay her a visit in a day or two. She’s going to be so sad, I should let her wallow a bit before I gut her like a fish.”
My smile widened as his remaining eye bugged out of his head.
“For seasoning.”
I dropped the match and walked away without a backward glance. I wasn’t worried about being caught or seen leaving the parking lot. It was a burner car. No license plate. Just put together with spare parts. I’d dump it somewhere then come back for the engine after things cooled off.
I wiped my knife off and rolled down the window, taking a deep breath.
Just like I thought.
That fucker smelled like pork.
Chapter Thirty-One
Michelle
“Mason is going to kill me.”
Kelly shook her head.
“Please, you have that man wrapped around your little finger.”
Paton piped up from the backseat.
“You do, mom.”
I blushed and stared out the window. As Mason predicted, Pate had been fine with everything. She’d been not at all surprised and hugged us both when we sat her down to tell her about the change in our relationship and sleeping arrangements.
It had only been a week since we got together but it was true, things were progressing… rapidly.
Every night Mason took me to bed and kept me there, tangling in the sheets until dawn. He left me there, passed out, and when I woke up he was almost always cooking for me. Then something changed. The last few days I woke to find he was gone. He’d left a note telling me to stay put. He brought in DVDs and books and magazines but he told me not to go out. Not even for a walk.
He’d postponed Paton’s starting school as well.
Basically, we were on lockdown and I didn’t know why. He treated me with a gentle dominance that was irresistible and inescapable. He knew all and controlled all.
And he took really, really good care of us.
Still, I could only watch the real housewives of whatever so many times before I started going stir crazy. Though Cassie had been calling me to discuss and advise me on the best shows to watch.
That girl looovvved her reality TV. She still hadn’t had her baby and was nearly a stir crazy as me. But at least she had a really good reason to stay home!
I sighed. Cass was a good friend now. So was Kelly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had tight friends like that. High school, or even grammar school most likely. It had happened practically overnight. Both she and Kelly were absolutely thrilled that Mason and I were well and truly together now.
“Besides, we are just getting some air. We’ll be back before he even knows you are gone. A walk in the park never hurt anyone.” Kelly grinned at me and winked at Paton in the rear view mirror. “Unless a tree branch falls on you or something.”
I laughed at Kelly’s pragmatism. It was nice to be out. I closed my eyes and let the breeze wash over me. The car rolled to a stop as she parked on the street near the park entrance.
We were strolling along twenty minutes later when my phone started to vibrate. And vibrate. And vibrate.
I pulled it out, staring at the message. The repeated message. I felt all the blood leave my face and settle in my belly where it started doing cartwheels.
Get your sweet ass back here. NOW.
“Crap. We have to go.”
“Mason?”
“He knows we left. He seems mad.” I stared at Kelly. “Really mad.”
Kelly’s eyes got big. She looked worried. I knew how she felt.
“Uh oh. Okay kiddo, let’s take that ice cream to go.”
Kelly might have said it wasn’t a big deal. But she put the pedal to the metal. I think she was almost as nervous as I was.
Paton wasn’t even a little bit worried. She just ate her ice cream cone and smiled.
“He might yell but that’s it. He’s not going to do anything.”
I nodded but I wasn’t even a tiny bit reassured.
He was standing out front when we pulled in. I got out of the car and he took my wrist in his strong hand, leaning into the car.
“Kelly, can you take Paton for a few hours. Or overnight?”
She nodded slowly, casting me a worried look.
“Sure. How about a sleepover, Pate?”
She nodded and Mason smiled grimly.
“Even better.”
He didn’t let go of me as I walked down the driveway by his side. He didn’t drag me inside kicking and screaming, but I knew he wouldn’t release me either. He locked the door and turned around, finally loosening his grip.
I rubbed my wrist. He hadn’t hurt me. But I was still pretty scared.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to beat you.”
He stepped closer, running his hands over my shoulders.
“Ever.”
“Okay.”
“I am tempted to put you over my knee.”
I exhaled nervously.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s a good start.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you. We’ve been going stir crazy. And Kelly didn’t think it was such a big deal…”
He was nodded but there were thunderclouds in his eyes. He was still mad. Crap.
“Did it ever occur to you that there was a very good reason for asking you to lay low for a bit?”
Oh crap.
“Um, yes. I mean, I think so?”
I was babbling like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Shut up, Michelle. Just be quiet.
“No, you didn’t. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have ignored my request. And now we are going to reinforce how foolish that was.”
“We are?”
He nodded with a slow smile. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“We are.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That’s good, Michelle. Take your medicine like a good girl.”
That’s when I really started to worry about what he had planned.
He scooped me up and carried me down the hallway to the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mason
“Now. Where should we start?”
I was standing over the bed, surveying my handiwork. Michelle was on her hands and knees with her legs tied together at the knees and ankles. Her elbows and wrists were similarly tied.
The only good part about this situation was the fact that she was naked. And she looked so hot tied up like that, it was making it hard for me to be stern. But I had to. I had to make sure she understood.
I knew her position was precarious. I knew she was nervous. And I knew I was probably going to enjoy what was about to happen in a twisted way. That’s how upset I was.
I ran my hand over her smooth haunch and felt my cock lurch in response. She was so unbelievably gorgeous. I didn’t want to hurt her.
But she needed to be punished.
There had been another murder last week. An old school club guy from the Hell Raisers. But that wasn’t the scary part. His wife had been found a few days later, chopped up and burned like the rest.
In fact, her murder was more brutal than mo
st of them. It took a particularly twisted fuck to hurt a woman, never mind torture her.
It was getting worse.
And it was getting closer.
Closer to the people I loved. Closer to Michelle. She had to be protected. She had to let me protect her.
That the killer went after a wife was showing just how far he would go. Families were considered sacred. Especially old ladies, grannies and kids.
This guy didn’t respect any of the unspoken rules.
Or human decency.
He was a twisted fuck and he might come after Michelle.
So I had to be firm. Harsh. Methodical.
I circled my palm on her juicy ass. Then I lifted it, and brought it down with a hard thwap.
She whimpered. I knew it stung. I also wondered it was making her wet. I slid a finger into her bare pussy just to be sure.
Jesus, she was soaked.
That was…. interesting.
I brought my hand down again and she moaned. That one was definitely pain and pleasure commingled. I wasn’t doing it hard enough to leave a mark, but her ass was turning a nice and rosy shade of red.
I spent a little time playing with her slippery wet pussy. Then I spanked her again. And again.
“Are you going to run off on me again?”
“I wasn’t running!”
I smacked her even harder this time. I used my hands to make my point. A hard slap between every word I said.
“Are you. Going to. Disappear like that on me again?”
“No!”
I rubbed her gorgeous ass as a reward.
“Are you going to trust that I have your best interests at heart?”
“Yes.”
I had my hand lifted and then I realized I didn’t want to spank her again. It was a little more rough than playful and I was angry enough that I was worried I might hurt her. But if she ever wanted to try it when I wasn’t upset… well, I would be more than interested.
Especially, considering how sopping wet her pussy was.
