SOLD: Jagged Souls MC

by Naomi West

  His eyes rolled back his head as felt her teeth lightly nip at him, grazing over his tender flesh. It was so intimate to have her here, in one of his most sensitive of places. If she wanted this to end, it could all be over very quickly.

  Clearly, though, she didn't want to. He stroked himself, belt still in hand. He needed to be inside her now. He needed to feel her warmth wrapped around his cock as she shook to her orgasm.

  Figuring she'd had enough, and wanting more for himself, he pulled her mouth from him. “Up,” he said.

  She climbed to her feet with a mumbled, “Yes, sir. What would you like for me to do next, sir?”

  “Over the desk. Right here,” he said. “Bend over it like a good girl.”

  She nodded as she bit her lip. She stepped next to him and bent down over her home office's desk, her ass in the air as she pressed her tits into the desk. “Like this, sir?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “Just like that,” he purred, his hand already going to her dripping pussy. He dove between her legs, rubbing up and down her slit. She was positively soaked with passion.

  He stepped behind her, touching the folded-up belt gently to either inner thigh.

  She moaned as she shuffled her feet apart, spreading her legs for him. He got up behind her, cock in hand. He pressed into her from behind, splitting her delicious lips by guiding his head up and down, slathering himself in her desire.

  “Please, sir,” she begged.

  “Louder, slut,” he growled, as he ran his hands over her back and ass, loving the way she felt and the way that she had so totally become his. This was the feeling of control, of possession, he craved. But, just as importantly, it was the feeling of responsibility.

  “Please,” she pleaded louder. “Please fuck me, sir. Please, I need to feel you inside me!”

  Zed pushed into her, his cock stretching her tightness. She groaned loudly as he pulled out, then pushed further in. She moved back against him, begging with her hips for him to go deeper, to fuck her more fully.

  He grabbed the belt with both hands, one on each end, and leaned forward. He looped it over his hostage's neck and tightened it.

  Abby arched her back, her breasts lifting off the top of the desk, her eyes lifting to the ceiling, and her lips parting as she felt the leather tighten.

  He held her in place with the belt bundled in one hand as he gripped her hip tightly with the other. He pressed hard into her flesh with the tips of his fingers, holding her, and pulling her back onto his cock, hard. He met the backward movement, his heavy balls slapping against her clit with each stroke.

  “Do you like that, slut? Do you like having my cock buried inside you, with me slapping against your clit?”

  “Yes, sir,” she gasped out between raspy moans, her whole body quavering as she contracted and spasmed around his cock. “Oh, God, sir, can I cum, please? Please?”

  “Cum for me, Abby,” he groaned, as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into her hard enough to nudge the desk forward with each forceful thrust. “Cum for me like a good little slut.” He was on the edge himself.

  She seized, her whole body going stiff for one moment, then began to spasm almost uncontrollably, her arms and legs trembling as she convulsed around his cock, massaging him with her depths. She screamed as she shook, and Zed felt her drench his manhood with her essence as she, clearly unable to hold herself up under the pleasurable onslaught, nearly collapsed to the desk. “Oh, sir,” she groaned, as he pumped into her faster. “Please, don't stop. Please don't-!” She was cut off by her own screaming moan.

  Zed dropped the belt and grabbed her other hip with his hand. He slammed into her and stayed deep inside, his body, shaking as he threw his head back, his voice joining hers as he came deep inside her. “Oh, fuck, Abby,” he growled somewhere in chest, a guttural sound as his hips resumed their thrusting.

  “Oh, sir,” she groaned, between panting breaths.

  Finally, his hips came to a stop, his knees weak and almost shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He needed to sit down and take a moment.

  She shakily rose from the desk as he collapsed into one of the office chairs in the room, his body glistening with sweat. Abby joined him in the chair, crawling into his lap.

  Her skin was cool and hot at the same time and her body was as sweat-drenched as his. She stretched up and kissed him, murmuring her approval.

  # # #

  Abby

  Submission, Abby realized, was about clearing the mind for her. She didn't worry about work, her future, or her past. None of those ideas entered the fray as she knelt before Zed's amazing manhood, or as she groaned around a mouthful of him. The pain on her backside pushed aside thoughts about what she was going to do about the Dimalerax catastrophe,= and the belt over her throat made her forget about how tenuous her position as CEO was.

  Instead, the burdens and worries lifted from her shoulders. The responsibilities of her position were, for at least that moment, released from her concerns. All she had to do was obey—to pleasure, and to be pleasured.

  Now, as she sat there in Zed's lap, her head on his chest, just listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and the sensuous in-and-out of his breath, she realized that this man was as much protector as he was jailer. She realized, too, that this wasn't necessarily a sane arrangement. Far from it. At best, it was what most people would call “unconventional.”

  Of course, she'd had an unconventional upbringing by an unconventional woman, and she had an unconventional career and life. So why not an unconventional relationship, too? It seemed to fit, didn't it?

  Zed could see through to her core, peer into her soul, and see what darkness sat within her—a darkness that begged to be punished. She sighed again, her eyes still closed against the light coming in around the edges of the office curtains.

  She snuggled up against his chest, thinking about what life with Zed would be like. Could it be this good all the time? Could she be a cold, ruthless bitch outside this home, then return to have her own little world where she got on her knees anytime he demanded?

  She realized she was getting excited again just thinking about the possibility of it happening.

  But it could happen, and she knew it. She opened her eyes and leaned back.

  “What?” Zed asked, his hands coming up to cup her ass as he held her on his lap.

  “Nothing, sir,” she whispered, a faint smile dancing on her lips.

  Abby realized she could have this life with him, and have it forever. She just needed to figure out how to do it, and how to keep him out of prison.

  Chapter Twenty

  Abby

  The next day, she worked from home, like she'd told Mark she would. She spent the morning catching up on emails and voicemails, looking over presentations, and reviewing revenue projections. There was an upcoming shareholders' meeting, as well, that really needed to be looked at.

  She took a break a couple of hours in, the pot of coffee she'd had for breakfast sitting in her stomach like lead. She ran her hands through her hair, groaning at the amount of catching up she still had to do. Apparently, being kidnapped for a week and kept hostage in your home by a sexy psychopath tended to make the work build up for you.

  Zed came in as she was taking her break, staring off blankly at the wall. In his hand, he held two plates, each adorned with a delicious-looking BLT.

  “Sorry,” he said, as he came in. “But I know you’re sick of smoothies.”

  She grinned at him as he came around the desk. “They smell delicious,” she said, closing up her planner and setting it aside.

  He set the plate down in front of her. “Two slices of whole wheat bread, fresh tomatoes, lettuce, and lots of bacon,” he said. “Couldn't be more simple.”

  A pleasurable memory of the evening before flashed in her mind as he went back around and set his plate right where she'd had her body planted. She could almost feel his touch again, feel the way he stretched her, and how he spanked her receptive body. Wit
h a small smile, she turned her attention to the sandwich and took a tiny bite.

  “What do you think?” he asked, as he pulled up the chair and settled in.

  She gave him a thumbs-up and took another bite, her stomach growling as the salty, fried bacon invaded her senses.

  They descended on their sandwiches like wild animals, tearing through them. They'd both woken up early, and Zed had spent much of the day outside in the garden, while she'd worked in the office. Soon, they were each through the first halves of their sandwich. As Abby lifted her second one to her mouth, she noticed Zed had paused. “You okay?” she asked.

  “I've been thinking,” he said. “I think I know how to make the Times run the story.”

  Not liking something about the way he'd said it, Abby set her sandwich back down on her plate. “Well?” she asked.

  “A hostage situation,” he said, his voice flat and matter-of-fact.

  Abby was already shaking her head before he could continue. “No way in fucking—”

  “It would force them to cover it, Abby,” he said, cutting her off. “Including the details of what was happening and why it happened. They couldn't be accused of harassing Pharma-Vitae, either, because they'd just be covering the story of you getting kidnapped and held for ransom.”

  “Ransom?” Abby asked, laughing.

  “Thirty million dollars,” he said. “Should get their attention.”

  “Who the hell would pay that kind of money for me?”

  He shrugged. “You. Who else? I went through your finances.”

  “Of course, you did,” she muttered. “Because you're Zed, the psycho I'm sleeping with.”

  He just smiled and shrugged again. “Yep, that's me.”

  “I want to send Kara a message demanding the money for your release.”

  “Do you know how fast that'll bring the cops down on us? I thought the whole point of this was to get your brother out of prison, not to get you thrown in there with him!”

  He shook his head. “It's just four walls, Abby,” he said quietly. “I'd get out eventually. Kai, though . . .”

  She sighed and looked down at her sandwich. She'd suddenly lost her appetite and she pushed the plate away. “What if the cops do show up here, though? What if you get hurt, Zed?”

  “Why would you care?” he asked. There was no malice in the way he asked it. It was just a question.

  “I . . .”

  “You what?” he pressed.

  “I'm probably pretty messed up in my own way for admitting this right now,” she said, as she reached across the desk and touched his hand, “but I care about you, Zed. I really do.”

  “So, you'll help me then?”

  “What?” she asked, letting out an exasperated sigh. “No! That's the exact opposite. I'm not going to help you with this!”

  # # #

  Zed

  He could see it in her eyes, even though she didn't use the word. She loved him as much as he loved her. Why else would she not want to involve the cops?

  After all these years, after all his time away, and, finally, after all he'd spent chasing after a defense for his brother, he finally had something worth keeping. She was like the calm in the midst of the storm, the first sign that the new dawn was going to be peaceful, and gentler than the torrential night.

  She was beautiful, intelligent, successful, funny, and determined. He couldn't have found a better woman if he'd created her himself. And he knew she wanted him forever. It was in the way she begged for the pleasure only he could give her, the way she pleaded for him to be inside her, and even how she crawled into his lap the day after he'd violated her in so many delicious ways.

  And he could keep her, too. He knew it. She could be his for the rest of his life. And what a life it would be. He would have money, success, and amazing sex. Of course, Zed would still go back to work, so he could be his own man and earn his own income. The possibilities were endless with this inside and outside beauty.

  All he had to do was give up this crusade to save Kai. All he had to do was throw away the last few years of his life, throw his hands in the air, and say goodbye to his twin brother.

  There was no way he was going to do that, though. He locked eyes with the woman of his dreams and shook his head. “If you won't help me,” he said, as he reached into his pocket and dug out the dog collar, “then I'll just have to help myself.” He dropped the collar and leash on the desk next to his BLT.

  Abby's eyes looked down at the collar, then back to him. “You can't be serious, Zed.”

  “I'm serious. When have I not been? Look, if you care about me like you say you do, you'll help me with this. You'll help me get this story out, and you'll help me with Kai's legal fund.”

  “But the cops are going to come here looking to put you down.”

  He shook his head. “I'll survive the cops, don't worry. I'm not worried about them at all.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Fine,” she said, finally giving into his plan. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I need you,” he said, licking his lips again, “back in the chair. And a little roughed up.”

  “A little?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “Not too bad,” he said. “Just enough to sell it.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Zed

  Her body certainly looked like it had been abused, even though he hadn't laid a hand on her in anger. The closer he looked at her as she sat in the glaring light, wearing only her bra and panties, he realized how many bruises he'd been leaving on her perfectly marked skin.

  “Still think this is a bad idea,” Abby said, as he finished duct taping her into the chair he'd previously used for the punitive timeout sessions.

  He stood up in front of her, tape in hand. “And I still think is the best idea we've got,” he replied, as he stretched out a strip of duct tape, producing that weird tape-tearing noise only duct tape can make.

  “Are you putting that on my mouth, sir?”

  “I am. We need to make it look authentic.”

  She sighed.

  He leaned down and sealed her mouth shut with the long, silvered strip of tape. He sealed down the edges and brushed his hands down her fingers. “Perfect,” he purred.

  She mumbled her thanks as he turned around and grabbed his cell phone. He brought up the video recorder and looked to Abby. “You don't need to do anything. Don't worry about having to struggle or anything like that, okay?”

  She nodded, and he hit record with the camera trained back on him, like he was taking a selfie.

  “Kara Singh, my name is Zed Hesse. My brother is Kai Hesse, who is on death row for murdering his wife and children while in the midst of a psychotic break caused by years of service in the United States Army. This is a matter of public record. What is not a matter of public record is that Kai was taking a medication named Dimalerax, manufactured by Pharma-Vitae. It clearly didn't work, and may have made his symptoms even worse. Dimalerax is currently being marketed to first responders and service members suffering the same symptoms Kai had, with the promise of helping them to get back to normal mental health.

  “What is also not a matter of public record is that Pharma-Vitae has proof on its servers, showing that their medicine doesn't work, proof that they were able to fake their data, and to push the approval process through federal oversight.” He paused, licked his lips, then stuck the barrel of the pistol against the side of his love's head.

  Abby flinched as the cold steel touched her temple, her eyes frantically flickering up to the gun. It was perfect enough that Zed was pretty sure she wasn't faking as he moved the camera around to capture her. “I have Abby Winters, CEO of Pharma-Vitae in my custody. If my demands are not met within twenty-four hours, I'll begin cutting pieces off of her, one piece for each hour, so she can understand what losing a piece of yourself to psychosis and insanity feels like.”

  He hit the stop button, then switched over to text messaging and sent a copy of the file to
Kara Singh's cell phone number. He let loose a deep breath, grateful he'd been able to do it in one take.

  A moment later, his phone began to ring. Kara Singh, already. Perfect timing.

  “Zed? Is that you?” Kara said, almost desperately, into the phone. “Zed, what the fuck are you doing?”

  “You got my recording, I take it?”

  “Of course, I got your recording! What are you thinking?”

  “I'm thinking I'm getting you to run the story,” Zed said. “And getting the story the exposure it needs.”

  # # #

  Abby