Evil’s Price: Devil’s Outlaws MC: Book One

by Dark, Raven

  “Oh, no.” He leans over me, gripping my chin and directing my eyes to his. “You don’t get to escape again. Don’t shut me out.”

  I lock my eyes on his but give nothing more.

  “That’s it. Eyes on me. I want you to watch what I do to you, feel everything that happens to you.”

  Of course he’s not going to make it easy. He won’t let me hide or leave my body. He won’t let me escape from him even in my own mind.

  Spider grabs my wrist and makes quick work of tying it to the headboard with the rope he left there. Then he does the same with the other.

  “Why are you tying me up?” I grit out. “I’m not fighting you!”

  “Because. This is going to hurt like a bitch. You will fight when I get started, and I don’t want my face ripped off.”

  Dread snakes through me. I close my eyes.

  “What did I say about shutting me out? Open your fucking eyes.”

  When I do, he pulls the ropes tight enough that I can’t hope to get free. A tear leaks out of my eye.

  Leaning over me, he licks away the tear. Lord, how can a man make me hate him this much?

  The bed creaks as he sits up between my legs and runs his palms over my stomach, kneading my sides. I can’t stand being tied up, but for some reason, being completely at this man’s mercy makes my whole body feel like an inferno.

  Pushing my thighs open, he draws a deep, controlled breath and lets it out, his gaze devouring me. “Fuck. Look you. Look at this gorgeous fucking pussy.”

  He likes what he sees. The praise makes my stomach flutter and I squirm into the bed.

  A thousand times I’d dreamt secret dreams of what it would be like to share myself with a man, but I’d never imagined it would be like this. Shame tears into me, and I try to close my legs, but he shoves them wide.

  “Keep them open.”

  I let my legs go slack.

  Two of his fingers glide over my clit, through my soaked folds, teasing. A growl of approval escapes him. “So wet,” the demon in him whispers. “Pussy’s waiting to be fucked.” His other hand strokes his shaft. My mouth waters at the sight of it, hard and purple at the head.

  With surprising care, Spider crawls slowly over me. He dips his head and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth.

  A hot spear of pleasure shoots through me, and my back bows of its own accord. I toss my head and hiss between my teeth. He sucks harder, tugging on the ridged nub and lapping at it with his tongue.

  I let out a tortured whimper. He gives the other nipple the same torment. My back rises higher, feeding him more. I sob at my own body’s libidinous response. He makes a long, hungry noise in his throat.

  “Like that, do you?”

  I try to twist onto my side, anything to escape his touch, but with the ropes holding my arms up and out and his hips between my legs, it doesn’t do much good. He pushes me flat, licking a fiery path from my stomach all the way to my throat.

  Just my luck, he’d know exactly how to set a woman on fire, how to work her up into a frenzy and make her want him no matter how hard she tries not to.

  “Shit. I’m going to ride you until you fucking scream.”

  The words make me want to stroke myself right there.

  He lays over me, and then his hardness is there, teasing and touching my core. I clamp my jaw, every muscle tense.

  “Don’t do that. If you don’t relax, it’ll hurt more.”

  “Don’t do me any favors, Spider. Just get it over with.”

  He slips his hand around my throat. He pauses, ratcheting up my fear. Then his hips jerk forward, and he enters me with one swift thrust.

  Pain lances through me, and my head tosses back on a scream. My body bucks, my arms jerking on the ropes.

  I never imagined the pain would be that intense. My eyes water. I try to retreat inside, to escape the pain, but there’s nowhere that it doesn’t reach.

  Trapping me with his cold, unfeeling stare, he slides out and thrusts back in. I clench and try to push him out, and he thrusts deeper.

  “Shh. Just let it happen.” He pumps slowly in and out, long, deep strokes. I can feel him holding back, but not to go easy on me. He wants to take his time, pace himself.

  My nails dig into my palms, my arms straining uselessly. I’d give anything to claw at his face, to break his jaw, but with my wrists bound, all I can do is lie there and take him.

  “Fuck, your pussy feels so good.” He groans and yanks my head back, leaning down and sucking on my throat, biting my neck. His beard scrapes my skin, making me hotter. Then his lips toy with mine. “Your pussy was made for my cock.”

  “Dream on.”

  His jaw clenches and he hammers into me once, then again, punishing thrusts clearly meant to put me in my place. I grunt in an effort not to scream at the pain. Spider’s lips sear mine. He groans, muscles tightening with restraint.

  “Fuck, Wildcat. Mine.” A few more thrusts, and the pain gives way to waves of pleasure that mount with every stroke.

  “Never.”

  He makes an approving sound and swipes his tongue over my lips.

  I try to hold back that rising tied that’s washing over me, but it’s useless. The heat of his tongue, the way his shaft stretches me makes my core clench around him.

  “Ah, fuck.” Spider’s control seems to snap. He grunts and his thrusts turn savage. His hips pump wildly. His grip on my throat tightens just enough to make breathing difficult while his mouth ravages mine. I choke into the kiss, thrashing under him so hard that the headboard thumps the wall. He groans and pounds faster.

  The riptide threatens to drag me under and swallow me whole. My hips buck as if with a will of their own.

  “Fuck, yeah.” He grips my thigh, squeezing hard, while his other hand loosens on my throat, letting me breathe. Letting me know he controls everything, even whether I live or die. “Fuck me, just like that.”

  Anger at what he’s doing to me knifes at me, but there’s nothing I can do but pant helplessly while my hips speed up. His fingers squeeze again and he tongues my mouth hard.

  I fly over the edge, crying out and bucking as if I’m possessed.

  My toes curl into the bed, my thighs shaking, my arms yanking on the ropes until I’m surprised they don’t snap.

  Spider rears up, lifts my hips and pounds into me a handful of times. He roars, pulls out, and pumps his shaft until he spills hot seed onto my stomach. Ropes of it splash my skin.

  Then he collapses onto me with a groan, his chest heaving.

  Did I just have my first orgasm? I can barely form a coherent thought, my mind floating as if I’m high. I’ve never been high, but Deacon Harmon described it, and I imagine this is what he meant when he said it feels like you’re floating in a euphoric haze.

  The euphoria dissipates, and as soon as it does, self-loathing bites into me at what I’ve just done. Were I in the Colony, I’d be whipped, paraded naked through the streets and branded a whore, and then put in isolation for months. I lie here, panting and trapped under his powerful frame, sticky with his seed, my own sin tearing through me with claws of steel.

  Spider kisses my ear. “Fuck. That was nice.”

  My blood boils at his indifference to his own actions. “Get off me,” I snarl.

  He nips my shoulder.

  “Get. Off. Of. Me.”

  Swatting my thigh, he swings off, but I know he didn’t do it because I told him to.

  Taking his time, he undoes the ropes on my wrists. Then he bends and drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You were fucking perfect.”

  As soon as he lifts his head, I spit in his face.

  His brow lifts in mild surprise. Instead of getting mad the way I expect him to, he swipes the spit off of his cheek and smears it on my face. Then he backs up. “Get up.”

  I don’t move.

  Spider seizes my nape and hauls me to my feet. “My patience has its limits. Push too far, and you’ll eat a bullet.”

  His fingers pinc
h painfully. I pant and nod, anything to make him let go. He grabs the collar from the bed where he left it and fastens it around my neck. Then he takes up the chain still hanging from the bedpost and clips it onto the collar. He releases me.

  “Turn around.”

  Oh, no. Now what?

  Not about to push him again, I turn my back to him, my heart speeding up.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  His hot breath fans my ear. “No one leaves me. I’m gonna teach you what happens when my woman forgets who she belongs to. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  12

  Freak

  It’s not a surprise that my little thief doesn’t obey the order I gave her.

  Good. I love the fight in her, and I’ll love teaching her respect just as much.

  “Hands,” I repeat in a slow dangerous voice that always snaps her back.

  Her shoulders sink and her head rolls back. She clasps her hands behind her. They’re shaking.

  Letting her fear burn through me like a hit of heroin, I yank the rope off the bed knob and tie it around her wrists, then press myself into her until she can feel my cock jabbing at her ass.

  “Scared, Wildcat?”

  “You know I am,” she snaps.

  I smile. Her nerves are starting to fray.

  Brushing her hair away from her nape, I kiss her shoulder.

  At the small of her back, her fists clench.

  She hates me. Smart girl. Any woman who wants me is only looking for a world of pain.

  I turn her to face me, then grab a towel from the bathroom. I clean myself off, wiping away my come.

  “Let me wipe off.” She walks toward me, arms straining against the ropes that keep her from grabbing the towel from me.

  “No. I like seeing my come on you.” I can see the smear it’s left behind on her skin, nearly dry.

  She grits her teeth, but says nothing.

  I throw on my clothes. Then I march her to the door.

  “Wait, you want me to go out there naked? Spider, no. I—”

  Ignoring her, I step out into the hall, leaving her no choice but to back up out of the room. Again, her head falls back. Her eyes close, and I can see her struggling to rein in her emotions.

  While I lock my door, Striker, Reaper and Mort pass by us with a few of the other men.

  Stephanie sees them and her cheeks turn crimson. She turns her head, trying to hide from their stares. All of them take in the view with appreciation. Mort adjusts his junk and clears his throat.

  Possession and triumph create a sweet mixture in my blood and I pull Stephanie against me. Eat your hearts out, boys.

  “You’re such a freak, Spidy,” Striker says.

  “You know it.” I pocket my keys and smile at Stephanie’s mortified glare.

  “Diesel’s party has started,” Mort says. “You going?”

  “That’s where we’re headed.”

  Stephanie’s head snaps up, her gorgeous dark eyes wide with panic. “Wait, we’re going to a party?” She yanks on the chain I’m holding in my fist. “No way. I am not going out there buck naked for all to see.”

  So much for controlling her emotions.

  I grip the back of her neck and start down the hall. “Yes, you are. Don’t make it worse on yourself. You tried to escape. You’re lucky I haven’t put a bullet in your skull.”

  Her shoulders sag in defeat.

  Holding her bound wrists and keeping her in front of me, I stride into the bar and every eye turns on us. On her. Some of the men whistle and others whoop at me, cheering me on for my prize.

  “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You’re evil. Pure evil.”

  “You have no idea.” I steer her for the back hall that leads past the chapel.

  A few of the men get up and follow us as I frog march her down another hall that leads to the back door of the clubhouse.

  Dozens of men’s voices filter from outside. Stephanie tenses, stepping back from the door. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “Nope. I want everyone to see what belongs to me.”

  She looks at me and her face blanches. “You’re going to parade me out there in front of all of them?”

  Laughter ripples through the men gathered at my back.

  “Yes.”

  She looks like she wants to claw my eyes out, and my dick leaps to attention.

  “You got yourself the freakiest guy in the house, girl,” Striker says, opening the door for me. “We love watching him do this.”

  She jerks as if slapped. “Wait, you’ve done this before? To another girl?”

  “Why? Jealous?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  I squeeze the back of her neck. She’s so jealous.

  As soon as we get outside, she gasps. “Oh, heaven help me.”

  Night has fallen, but there’s enough light from the back of the clubhouse that I know she can see everything. More than two dozen men and a handful of women stare. Cap is over by a barbeque frying burgers and he drops one with a splat. Donnie’s beer spills out of his mug, and he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  Some of the men make catcalls. Pip’s jaw falls until Monica smacks him on the shoulder. He clears his throat with a grin.

  Yeah, this is going to be fun.

  “Oh, this is so not happening,” Stephanie says, trying to shove past me.

  I whirl her around to face the hill a hundred feet from the back of the clubhouse and clamp a hand on her shoulder. “Walk or be dragged.”

  She freezes, clearly fighting some inner battle.

  I’m not showing her off or humiliating her just for fun. After her attempt to run off, the boys need to see that I know how to keep my women in line. She’s my prisoner. A man like me can’t be soft. This is club justice. It’s just that instead of letting the guys pull a train on her like some of them would do with a woman who went against the club and who isn’t an old lady, I choose to exact my price in a way that suits me. Besides, there’s no way I’m letting another man get his hands on her. Not even my brothers.

  “Let me guess.” Her voice shakes. “I’m the night’s entertainment.”

  I weave through the crowd with her, and the men give me a wide berth, none of them daring to get near her. Striker and the other guys who followed me out here drop back, mixing into the crowd.

  No one comes near her, except Whistler, who reaches for her tits.

  “Really?” I grab his wrist and twist it until it snaps, and he whines in pain.

  She stares at him in shock as he cradles his broken hand. She glances at the crowd, and then looks worriedly at me. “Spider, you aren’t expecting me to…”

  “No. No one will touch you but me. But you are going to provide a little extra attraction.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Letting her imagination run, I continue leading her across the back yard toward the hill.

  “Where are you taking me?” She’s panicking.

  I stop in front of the gnarled old tree. As I untie her hands, her eyes lift to a long rope hanging from one of the bare branches.

  The blood drains from her face and her whole body shakes.

  “Oh, dear god. No, you can’t.” She spins around and tries to shove me to the ground. Her hands try to claw at my face.

  Whoa, what the fuck? I’ve never seen her lose it this bad. She’s like a wild animal. I grunt in surprise and grab her wrists, easily stilling them.

  “You can’t do this!” she screams, thrashing. Tears stream down her face.

  Holy shit. She’s terrified.

  I could slap her to snap her out of it, but I’m not my father. I don’t hit women. Ever. Instead, I grab her shoulders and shake her once. She stills, and I put my finger in her face. “Don’t. Ever. Hit. Me again.”

  Her face goes blank and her hands drop. Her eyes go to my feet. “Yes, sir.” Her voice is small.

  Okay, what the actual fuck?

  Stephanie’s eyes aren’t ju
st staring. They’re utterly unseeing. It’s like she’s left her body, gone somewhere else.

  That’s at least the third time she’s gone Stepford on me. It’s kind of freaking me out. She looks… A memory tickles at my back brain, but it refuses to form. I shake it off. Deal with it later.

  I snap my fingers at her.

  Her eyes jerk to mine and the glazed look vanishes.

  She’s herself again, but fear has her whole body shaking. Her breathing is fast and shallow. She doesn’t seem to be aware that she did anything odd. I’ll have to get to the bottom of that.

  “I won’t hurt you any more than necessary, but you have to learn. I don’t tolerate temper tantrums.”

  Her eyes swim with tears of rage and indignation. She looks away. Humiliation pounds off of her, but at least she isn’t flipping out. It pisses me off that she was afraid of me. What the hell did she think I was going to do, hang her?

  I push her carefully up against the tree and pull the rope down from the branch. Then I quickly go in behind her, pull her arms around the tree at her back and tie them in place.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” She sounds confused.

  And relieved, as if she was expecting something a lot worse. Worse, like what?

  I wind the rope’s slack around her waist and the tree once, and tie it in back.

  “Spider, what in God’s name are you doing?” She twists and bucks, but I force myself to ignore it and pull the ropes tight enough that she can’t move her arms an inch. Then I clamp my hand on her shoulder and put my mouth to her ear.

  “My own personal brand of club justice, gorgeous.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I walk around in front of her, assessing my work with a smile. She looks delicious, naked with her breasts poking out from between the ropes, her nipples hard as bullets. Light bruising encircles her neck where my hand had choked her earlier. The sight of it nearly has me pounding into her right there.

  “Almost perfect,” I say.

  “Almost? Spider, what are you going to do?”

  I shrug. “I’m going to join the party.”