The Butcher of the Bay 2

by J Bree

  I will never grow bored of the hunger in his eyes and the way he bites his lip at me, ready to devour me whole.

  “What do you want to say? I don’t think now is a good time for a lesson, mon Monstre.”

  He smirks and drops the towel away from himself, climbing onto the bed to cover my body with his own. “How do I say, ‘I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin’?”

  I swallow, my voice drying up as he stares down at me with burning eyes. The smirk on his face gets wider and he ducks down to bite my lip, tugging on it until we’re kissing. His lips are like a brand, claiming my mouth and my body as his for the taking and I know that every fiber of my being belongs to this man.

  “I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin.”

  He smirks and starts working his way down my body, kissing and biting as he goes. When he repeats my words they’re a little fumbled but it’s clear enough.

  “What about, ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll be ruined for other men’?”

  My thighs clench and I squirm under him, the weight of him stopping me from going anywhere but I feel his hard cock between my thighs, the barbell cold against my skin, and I croak out, “Je te baiserai si fort tu seras ruinée pour tout autre mec.”

  He moves down to suck on my clit, his teeth grazing my most sensitive spot gently in a tease, a small show of dominance. I exist here at his pleasure. He could destroy me with his bare hands, the power of his arms and the techniques he’s honed over the years making his entire body a weapon.

  Instead, he worships me.

  “Now teach me how to say, ‘I’m going to fill this pussy up, use it so good, and you’ll beg me for more’?”

  The words come out as a moan, “Je vais remplir ta chatte, bien me la faire, et tu me supplieras de t'en donner plus.”

  He repeats the words back to me, his pronunciation even better than the last time we practiced and my eyes roll back in my head, something so intimate about him speaking my own language to me while his fingers pump inside me.

  My hips begin to move, chasing the high I know he’s bringing me to, and just as my legs start to shake he murmurs low, in French, “Bonne fille.”

  Good girl.

  He moves away from me before my orgasm is finished, flipping my body over and pulling my hips up so he can fuck me from behind, his hips pounding into me without warning. His grip around my waist is bruising as he moves me to meet his thrusts. When I push up onto my hands he growls deep in his throat, taking a handful of my hair to force my body up and away from the bed, tipping my head back for a biting kiss. The force of his thrusts has me jerking in his arms, only his tight fist keeping my lips from being jarred away from him.

  I was made for his pleasure and his body was made to worship mine.

  His free hand slips down my hip and rests over my pussy. I whine against his lips, hoping he’ll rub and pinch at my clit, my orgasm so close already.

  He doesn’t.

  Instead, he waits until I’ve gotten lost in the movements of his hips again before he slaps my pussy, right over my clit, and my body clenches around him like a vise. When he does it again, I scream into his kiss as I come, my arousal dripping down both of our legs. He lets go of my hair and presses me back down, all the way until my face is pressed against the mattress and his hips move faster, more brutal until finally he pulls out and comes all over my back, thick ropes of his come dripping down my spine like his sign of approval.

  I’m his good girl.

  I lay there, panting and shaking, until he disappears to the bathroom and brings me back a towel to clean me off. It feels as though he’s trying to rub it into my skin more than he’s wiping it away but that only makes me feel more beloved to him.

  When he climbs back into the bed, in all his naked glory, and pulls me into his chest I check the clock. It’s a little after ten in the morning, we have until two to sleep.

  My chest grows warm at the thought of how close we are to being married.

  “Are you excited for this afternoon, mon Monstre?” I murmur, and he kisses me slow and long, his tongue stroking over mine in a sensual dance.

  “Am I excited about giving you my name? Making you mine and getting rid of your father’s name for good? Yeah, baby girl. It’s all I want right now, I’m only pissed I haven’t gotten the list finished for you before.”

  I mumble under my breath in French to him, small words of comfort to attempt to ease his frustration. The list is important but it’s not so important to me that I would delay marrying him. No, I desperately want to be Mrs. Johnny Illium. The woman that the Butcher of the Bay loves and protects and fucks so hard my pussy aches with the sweetest pains.

  My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought.

  It sounds like the perfect life.

  We make it to the courthouse early to sign our marriage license.

  Mon Monstre wears his usual attire and looks as handsome and dangerous as ever. I wear the white dress he picked out weeks ago, the red sash swapped out for a deep blue one that matches my ring. I curl my hair and pin it back until I look like an old Hollywood beauty, my makeup matching it perfectly with a slash of red across my lips. I pick out heels to wear and when I lift my skirt to strap on my thigh holster I watch as mon Monstre’s eyes take in every inch of my smooth legs, the heels doing a whole lot of work to make them look a mile long.

  “I’m bending you over the table when we get home, baby girl. We need to fuck in every room as husband and wife.”

  I giggle at him even as my body reacts to his words, my nipples tightening visibly under the dress. His eyes drop down to them as I walk back over to him, smoothing a hand down my body as I fuss with it one last time.

  “Nervous?” He murmurs, taking my hand.

  I smile. “Not at all. I’m impatient.”

  The drive over is uneventful and I can’t help but wonder about what my parents are doing now? My father is out of prison and I don’t know what my mother was doing while he was locked up. I always wanted to escape them but some part of me also thought that they’d be there when I got married.

  I also thought it would be Louis who married me.

  I’ve never been more thankful to be wrong.

  “What are you thinking about, baby girl? No frowning on our wedding day.”

  There’s no way I want to tell him I’m thinking of another man, not even if I’m thinking about how much I don’t want him. “Just my parents. I’m glad they’re not here today.”

  He raises my hand up to his lips and kisses my palm even as he parks the BMW with ease. “Don’t think about them anymore, baby girl. They’re nothing to you anymore. I’m your family.”

  He says it as if it’s nothing, like it’s as easy of breathing, when it means everything to me to have him and I know he really feels the same.

  He opens the car door for me and holds my hand throughout the entire process, ignoring the looks we get from the workers there and the officiant as we sign everything. There isn’t any real ceremony but when we’ve filled everything out he pulls another ring box out of his pocket, sliding a matching wedding band onto my finger. It’s simpler than the exquisite diamond but still beautiful, the matching inlaid diamonds making the setting look even more stunning.

  I surprise him with a box on my own.

  He startles but a grin takes over his face, savage and perfect. “You got me a ring?”

  I smile and blush like a maiden, as though he hasn’t fucked me everyday imaginable dozens of times already. “I used some of my painting commissions. I got you… well, maybe you should look.”

  He opens the box and finds two rings. A platinum band, simple and plain but with an inscription in the inside that simply read, “Mon Monstre, je t’aime, de ta gentille fille.”

  I watch as he pulls it out, reads the inscription and then hands it to me to slip it onto his finger the way we would during a wedding ceremony. He grins and looks back into the box, whe
re the second ring sits.

  “Two? You wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours, baby girl?”

  I grin at him, threading our fingers together and ignoring the eyes of the strangers around us. “I think I’d paint my name all over your skin before you went out if you’d let me, mon Monstre, but no. The second ring is for when you work. It’s silicon and won’t get damaged or damage you when you’re… busy working with your hands.”

  He uses our joined hands to tug me into his body, cupping my cheek with his free hand as he kisses me deeply until I’m like jelly in his arms. We hear someone clearing their throat but his grip on my face holds me still until he’s done with the kiss.

  When we break apart he smirks at the worker, taking the paperwork from her and leading me back out of the building and onto the busy streets of downtown Mounts Bay.

  Mon Monstre walks me over to his car where we find an old friend waiting for us.

  Le Loup looks older.

  There's more color to her cheeks and the gaunt, starved look she had before has eased a little. She's still tiny, too small for someone her age, but she no longer looks emaciated. She nods her head at mon Monstre and gives me a small smile.

  "Congratulations, I'm glad you guys have found this happy ending." She says, hesitating before hugging me quickly. She touches me as though she's handling a bomb but I remember what mon Monstre said about Mounty kids and their distrust of physical affection.

  "It's not an ending, le Loup, but a very exciting beginning." I say, and she nods with a smile. She looks out over the crowd like she’s waiting for something, watching for someone to jump out and attack us. It makes me frown, nervous for her and that upsets mon Monstre. He squeezes my hand again and I remember the happiness of this moment for us both.

  “I’m officially Mrs. Illium now. No more using my father's cursed name."

  Illi chuckles and hands me an American passport. I stare at it for a moment, I’ve never even held my own passport before, and when I open it I find my married name is listed.

  We've only been married for an hour.

  He laughs at the confused look on my face and le Loup smirks at him. "You can get anything you want in the Bay with the right contacts and enough green. What does she need a passport for anyway? Are you honeymooning in the Caribbean?"

  Mon Monstre takes my hand in his again, threading our fingers together and drawing me closer to the car. "We're spending a few months in Europe actually. Seeing the world together and getting out of this shit-hole to stretch our legs."

  Le Loup smiles and walks us out to the car. She doesn't climb in, instead she leans on the side and listens to Illi with a half-smile on her face. Her joy is infectious, even if this weren't my wedding day I'd be smiling along with her.

  "If you need anything while we're gone, call Roxas and Harbin. I've told them both to keep an eye out for you. No calling that fuckhead D'Ardo." She bites her lip as she looks at her feet. Illi smells the hesitance in the air and his eyes narrow. "What the fuck is going on, kid?"

  She sighs and rubs a hand over her face. "I inducted someone."

  Oh.

  That's new.

  I look over at Illi but he doesn't look surprised. "Yeah, the O'Cronin kid. I assumed that was a tactic against the old fucker Liam. Wasn't it?"

  She nods and then shakes her head, as if she has no real answer for him. "He's kind of... my friend. I think. I know for sure I'm friends with his cousin. It's a fucking mess, okay? Matteo is already suspicious as fuck about the whole thing and it might get... bad.”

  I glance over at Illi, ready to hear whatever it is he has to say about this. I'm glad she's making friends at school, though the idea of the Wolf of Mounts Bay making friends with normal teenage girls is hilarious to me.

  Do they know she slits throats for money in the summer?

  "Do we need to postpone the honeymoon? I will. I'll stay here and fix this mess with you right now if you need it, kid."

  She shakes her head. "I'm renting a place on the south side, close to your warehouse and the MC just in case. I had the Coyote rig the security on the place so I'm not worried about being caught unaware. We've learned that lesson."

  Illi doesn't look any happier. He frowns at her like he's planning on stuffing her into his suitcase and dragging her to France with us. I sigh a little under my breath. It would be lovely to take her with us, to show her all of the sights of the world outside of this city, but she's a child and still in school. She can't skip any of her education, not at the prestigious preparatory academy she attends.

  Not without risking the future she’s worked so hard to have a chance at.

  "I don't like this." Illi finally mutters, though he's loud enough for us both to hear it.

  She shrugs, giving him a lopsided grin. "You don't have to like it, that's what's happening. I'll call the bikers if I need anything but my plan for summer is to keep my head down and my profile low. I'm not looking at starting a war."

  Something twists in my gut at those words but she finally pushes away from the car and gives me another quick hug, bumping her fist with Illi, and then disappearing into the busy streets of the city center.

  I turn to look at Illi but he's still watching her, his eyes far more honed than mine. "If she's not safe, we should stay."

  He turns to look at me, opening the car door and ushering me in. "She'll be okay. The guys would never let me down like that and Harbin seems pretty fond of her these days. We need this break, baby girl."

  He needs the break... and the death of my father at his hands.

  All I need is him and my paints and our little apartment and the promise of a future for us both.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Illi

  Bingley is a fucking nightmare.

  The hotel room he’s in with the kid is on the top floor, not easy for me to get to without attracting attention, but the fact I know he’s raping a kid right now… fucking impossible not to just kill the cunt.

  I don’t care that she walked in there with him willingly. She’s skin and fucking bones, a starving kid isn’t consenting. She’s trying not to fucking die.

  The fact she reminds me of Lips… that’s just making this entire thing ten times worse. I need to get back to the apartment and scrub this from my skin, kiss my girl and forget about how entirely fucked up the world is.

  The fact the Crow wants him alive is killing me too.

  I’d kill this cunt for free if he’d told me what the fuck he’s doing.

  So I pay off the receptionist and the bellboy. They both know the score and are happy enough to be getting paid for the help rather than dealing with threats from me. Neither of them looked happy about the Mounty kid going up there but there’s fuck all they could do about it. Call the cops and you lose your job.

  Lose your job, you might be the one going into a rich man’s hotel room to suck him off to eat.

  Fuck it, I’m not waiting around.

  I use the master swipe card from the reception to get in, my gun in my hand with the safety on. I want him scared, not dead. Fuck, but I do really want him dead.

  They hear the door opening and Bingley climbs off of the bed, his pants undone and his dick out. The kid still has clothes on, thank fuck, and her eyes are glazed over. Did he drug her or has she taken something to be able to get through this?

  Fuck.

  “Who the fuck are you? How the fuck did you get a key?”

  God, even the sound of his voice has my jaw clenching so fucking hard I might break my teeth. “Zip up and throw on a shirt, we’re going for a ride.”

  His lip curls as he snaps off the condom and fixes his pants. At least he was wearing one, probably because he didn’t want to have to pay off a baby mama, but the girl rolls off of the bed and scoots back until her back hits the wall. She has no fucking clue of what’s going on right now, but she sure as shit knows who I am.

  She shuts her eyes.

  “Get the fuck out of my room before I call the cop
s on you! I’m not going anywhere with some gangbanger thug.” He spits as he talks, his entire demeanor still arrogant and furious. He has no idea how fucked he really is.

  I take the safety off of the gun.

  “Not asking again, Bingley. Put a shirt on and get moving, I have other appointments to get to.”

  He swears and moves to stalk around the bed, heading towards the kid who is now rocking just a little. She’s mumbling under her breath, an old lullaby like she’s calming herself down.

  Something in me snaps.

  I shoot the pedophile rapist in the leg and he drops to the ground screaming. I hear doors opening in the corridor but the bellboy starts coaxing them back into their rooms, just like I asked him to. I walk over to Bingley slowly, my gun still in one hand and swiping up one of my cleavers in the other. His screams quieten down to rough groans as he pants through the pain.

  “You seem to be confused about what’s happening here. You’re not the one calling the shots, you’re the scumbag rapist who’s coming downstairs with me. The kid is leaving here without ever touching your dick.”

  His eyes are still full of that arrogant fury but he’s changed his tone when he says, “Whatever you’re being paid, I’ll match it. Whoever is paying you, I can pay more. I’m a very rich man.”

  I smirk and lift the cleaver, pressing the sharp edge of it against his cheek. One movement and I’ll slice through the skin and muscle, filet him to the fucking bone.

  The Crow said nothing about having him untouched, whole, or even just slightly maimed.

  “You don’t seem to understand what is happening here so let me introduce myself. I’m the Butcher of the Bay. There is no bargaining, nothing you can say that would get you out of this. There’s only me getting the job done and I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  I lean down to whisper in his ear, the acrid scent of his terror like a hit of cocaine through my nostrils. “The second I saw the kid, it was game over for you. Rapists deserve nothing more than a blood-soaked, screaming death.”