“My princessa has a dirty mouth.” He looms over me, spreading my thighs wider, settling between them once more. I feel the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. “Damn, baby, you’re tight.” I grimace as he pushes inside me and stops. My body is burning and stretching like a rubber band that is ready to snap. Diego lets out a guttural groan. His body trembles against mine. “Fuck me. Are you a virgin, Sybil?”
I bite my bottom lip and give him a nod.
“And you’re giving this to me?”
I arch my back and flex my hips sending him deeper in answer.
He kisses me deep and hard. I say a silent prayer that I’m not making a mistake in trusting him.
“I don’t deserve you, but I want you anyway,” he whispers against my lips and kisses me again. Drawing back out he comes back harder than before. Diego shoves himself further in and the pain is almost unbearable because he’s so big, too thick…too long. A tear trickles down my cheek and he bends his head down to kiss it away. “It’ll start to feel good. I promise.”
And he’s right. Once I relax and focus on the way he’s talking gently and staring deep into my eyes, it does feel good. Moving his hips, Diego starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, giving me time to adjust to the intrusion. The more he moves the better it feels as his thick cock slides in and out of my heat. I allow my body to guide me. He’s being slow, sweet, and gentle. It’s driving me crazy. Digging my nails into his back I urge him to go faster. Pressure is building in my lower abdomen. My toes curl into the mattress beneath me as he rubs his finger over my clit in sync with his relentless thrusts.
“Oh,” I let out in a whisper, my eyes rolling back in my head as a tremble quakes through my body.
“That’s it, Princessa, cum on this cock.”
I smile up at Diego and his lips come down on mine kissing me with possession. Our tongues moving together, fighting for control. He wins, and I have a sinking feeling he always will.
I think I’d give him anything he wants right now.
Legs wrapped around him I bow my back taking all he has to give never wanting to let go.
Diego draws back and runs his hand along my torso, as though he is memorizing every inch.
“Are you on birth control?” he questions out of nowhere.
I tilt my head to the side and shake it slightly. Birth control has never been a priority. My periods are light and regular, and I’ve never been sexually active till now. I don’t share all this with Diego though.
Diego’s forehead rests against mine. His gaze burns into me with such intensity. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
“Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” He kisses me hard and deep, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as his dick plunges deeper inside me. I melt into him, feeling as though we are one. Our hips rub as he hammers me against the mattress. Diego doesn’t stop until I feel him twitching inside me and warmth runs down my thighs.
“Fuck, Princessa, you’re perfect. Perfectly mine,” he growls against my lips, kissing me once more.
I feel deliciously sated and like pure goo. I couldn’t move from this bed if I tried. Between my legs aches with a soreness I never knew was possible, however the pain was worth it. I find I already want him again, but I’m too tired.
His fingers dance across my belly and he lays next to me breathing hard.
“I’ll be right back.”
My eyes flutter as he slides off the bed. I jostle when returns pressing a warm cloth between my legs, gently cleaning me up.
“You need anything?”
“Huh uh.” I yawn and snuggle down into the bed.
“Get some sleep, Sybil. I’ll take you home after breakfast.” Diego’s lips meet mine and my eyes close. Fastening his arm around my center he pulls me into his embrace. We settle in under the covers. His arm and leg draped over my body. I tuck into his side like a perfect fit.
**
Coming to, I go to stretch my arms over my head but can’t. My eyes pop open, and I thrash against the restraints keeping me tied to the bed. Panic seizes me and pain shoots through my chest. My heart is in my throat as I scan the room. The night before becomes a distant memory as I scream. “Diego?!” Even my ankles are secured to the footboard. My body is stiff, and my wrists feel numb.
The bedroom door swings open and he leans against the frame wearing a smirk, watching me with amusement dancing in his blue eyes. He peels a slice from the juicy red apple in his hand with a pocketknife. I hear the fruit crunch between his teeth as he chews.
I pull with my arms again, hoping this is some sort of prank. “Diego, please. What’s the meaning of this?” I croak. Betrayal burns through my veins. I gave him my virginity. I trusted him with secrets I’ve never told a soul. I thought he liked me. I thought we had a connection.
His blue eyes pierce straight through me and then he shatters me completely. “Last night when you said that I was hired to kill you…you were right.” He pops another slice of the apple into his mouth. My head swims with dizziness and he crosses the room as I try to make sense of it all. “I need you to trust me, Princessa.” His traitorous lips press down on my forehead. Tears threaten to fall when a needle stabs me in the neck.
“Diego,” I whisper his name, and my world fades to black dying with my unshed tears.
**
I feel something crawling on me. My mind blanks and I shake my hand. I shift my head back and forth from side to side trying to wake up. I keep dreaming about insects crawling all over my body. I feel sick. My stomach lurches and bile creeps up my throat. Something pricks my skin. Something brushes over my face. I open my mouth to scream but the taste of dirt fills my mouth. I cough and gag, feeling as though I can’t breathe.
I can hear muttered voices, only they sound so far away like they are coming from above me. Darkness surrounds me. I’m so cold. Why am I so cold and stiff? Am I dead? Would I be able to move and think if I were? Probably not. I decide this is a good thing. The whole I’m not dead thing.
My body is lifted. Strong arms grip me. Finally my eyes open. I blink and inhale, catching a whiff of Diego’s cologne. At first, I’m happy he has me only then I remember what he did to me. I remember who he is and who I am. A girl with a target on her back and a price on her head.
I lose consciousness again. I’m drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.
He’s leaning over me. I’m being moved. I blink again. I’m disoriented, but I am smart enough to know I am in a fucking hole surrounded by the soil of the earth. I can smell it.
“Easy, Princessa. It will all be over soon.”
I smack at his hand and attempt to drag myself up the sides of the hole, but all I manage to do is bring more dirt down on my body.
My eyes widen as I realize I’m naked and covered in something sticky and red along with dirt and fucking bugs.
I open my mouth and scream as loud as I can until my throat feels bloody and raw. My tears sporadically fall like leaves in autumn.
Diego drops into the hole and gets hold of me. I jerk against him, even though I’m no match for his strong arms as they cage around me. Against my better judgment I sag against the warmth of his body as my teeth chatter. “It’ll be painless. Trust me, Sybil. You won’t feel a thing, baby.” His traitorous voice soothes me, caressing the shell of my ear like my favorite lullaby. I’m so tired. A needle pricks my skin. His lips kiss my forehead. “Sleep, baby. Sleep. It will all be over soon.”
Warm water flows over my skin. Diego is whispering in my ear, but I can’t make out his words. He’s supporting my body. I feel the hard wall of his muscular and tattooed chest against my back and his arm snaked around my middle. My head tells me to fight though my body says let’s stay here where it’s warm.
Let’s stay with him.
The traitorous bastard.
Chapter 10
—Diego
Darkness falls, canvassing the room, and I watch her sleep. I got what I needed and got her cleaned up and warm. Seeing her
laying in my bed I know I have no choice. I can only hope I’ve not gone too far. Sybil will have to trust me. I’m doing this for her. That’s the lie I keep telling myself. Soon enough she’ll be reported as missing. Everyone—especially Wrath needs to believe she’s been taken or better yet that she’s dead.
She has been taken only not in the way they’ll think. Not in the way I want them to believe. Sybil belongs to me now. She’s mine. My dirty little Princessa with a filthy mouth. A tight little body built for taking my cock. A tempting mouth for me and only me to taste. I sweep her hair back and press my lips to hers. Fucking sweet, perfect, and tempting. My cock grows harder. Having her naked and wet in the shower it was hard not to fuck her but I’m not that big of a bastard. I won’t take her like that.
Now isn’t the time for that.
I still have work to do.
The stage has to be set.
I grab the bone saw from the kit Taty lifted from the hospital and lay it next to Sybil on the bed. Taking her hand in mine I massage her pinky finger praying she doesn’t wake up until it’s over. I don’t want to hurt her. However, there are certain things that must be done. Measures that must be taken. Laying her hand on the plastic on top of the metal cart. I wipe her finger down with alcohol pads. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reminding myself I have a job to do. This is the only way. Doing this task is ripping me in two. I keep telling myself she will forgive me. When this is all through, she’ll understand. I’ve never had a weak stomach. Though mine is churning something fierce as I stare down at her slender fingers knowing what I’m about to do.
Sybil White must die in the eyes of those who wish her dead. This shit would be easier if I pulled the trigger like I was supposed to, but I’ve never been good at taking orders and doing what I’m told. My mother always said I was an unruly child. I wasn’t born to be a follower. I was born to lead.
I owe it to my father to take Wrath down if it’s the last thing I do. Even if it gets me killed, I’ll go out knowing I served my father’s memory well and released my mother from the prison she’s been living in.
Cutting through the knuckle, I sever the appendage and place half of her pinky finger in a Styrofoam cooler full of ice next to the jar containing a pig’s heart. It’s the best I could do on short notice.
I cauterize the blunt nub that is left with a hot knife blade and clean the wound rubbing more antiseptic over the appendage.
“Start the IV,” I order Taty. I’m not taking chances of an infection. She gets everything setup and administers Sybil a shot of morphine along with antibiotics. Once Taty is finished, I grab the cooler to deliver my message to Wrath and the bitch who hired him for the job.
Sybil has been taken. I’m keeping my word. Now let’s see if Wrath keeps his.
Leaving Sybil in Taty’s care while I do my business. I put the cooler in the passenger side of my truck and secure it in place with the seatbelt. I already took care of the rest this morning. I sent Wrath photos of Sybil in the grave he believes I buried her bloodied body in.
It was all staged, but this part has to be real. If the world is to believe she is dead, they’ll need proof. Her DNA. Physical evidence can’t be dismissed.
I set out to put this fucked up plan in motion. There’s no turning back. The idea came to me late the other night sometime after I fucked Sybil to sleep. There is only one way we both walk away. Only one way I can keep her. That’s to change the damn game.
I make the two-hour drive to the O7 clubhouse.
Perfect. The bastard is still here. Grabbing the cooler, I exit the truck.
As soon as I enter in the clubhouse Wrath is calling me into his office. Good. No time like the present to get this over with.
“Been waiting on your ass all day.” He grunts and sits behind his desk.
“Brought you confirmation. Had to do clean up.” I sit the cooler on the desk.
Wrath shifts in his chair, sitting up to open the cooler. “Nice work. Clean cut.”
“The finger is for your client. The heart is a gift. From me to you.”
Wrath chuckles. “You think I’m gonna take it home and sit it on the mantle. Your mom would lose her shit.”
“Never know with her.”
“I’ll see that this gets delivered. Once the bitch is satisfied that patch is yours. We’ll do it up big. Invite the other chapters and shit. your old man would be proud, boy.”
My father would be disgusted by what this club has become. I keep that thought to myself.
**
Later that night
In Sybil’s apartment I search for her cell phone. Lucky for me I find it on the coffee table and when I plug it in and power it up there is no password needed. Like I suspected that wimpy fucking weasel pulled some shit. Sybil wasn’t making sense when I questioned her about it this morning, but she was under the influence of the narcotics I shot her up with. There are several messages dating back to a few days ago.
Jesus – Please talk to me, Sybi.
I didn’t mean any of what happened.
I was upset and out of line.
Just pick up the phone.
I only want to talk.
Can I come over?
S – You’re right. We should talk. Come over?
I fire off the reply after unblocking his number. I get to work after I shut the phone off and shove it in my pocket. Wearing gloves, I set the scene. I knock over a lamp and scoot the couch over a few inches. I pull a shirt from her hamper and rip the collar, tossing it on the couch cushions. Next a pair of her dirty red lace panties are placed precisely on the floor, and I dump the vial of her blood I collected when I did her finger on the couch. That fucker Jesus is going to get what’s coming to him.
Now I wait.
It takes the bastard about twenty minutes to arrive. He knocks and I open the door enough to allow him entry while keeping myself hidden. As soon as he steps foot in the apartment, I slam the door and knock him on the back of the head with the butt of my Beretta 92FS. The fucker starts to fall, but I catch him and ease him down in the yellow high back chair. There’s a scratch on his face. My girl put up a fight. He’ll be wishing for her sweet little body but all he’s going to get is twenty to life when I’m through with him. I play the recording I have of Sybil screaming from the burner phone I bought exactly for this moment so later one of the neighbors will recall hearing a scream. It’s taking my full restraint not to fucking kill him right now for putting his hands on Sybil. For even attempting to claim what’s mine.
She is mine.
All mine.
Perfectly fucking mine.
Her mind simply needs to catch up with her heart and body.
When this is all over, I’m going to put her on the back of my motorcycle and take her far away from here and all the fuckers who failed to protect her. I know how shit appears right now. Like I’m mad. Crazy. Deliriously insane only it’s quite the opposite. I’m in love with Sybil White. She’s mine, and I protect what’s mine. Actions speak louder than words and mine speak volumes. I will go to any length to have her. To keep her safe from those who wish to hurt her.
Sybil can think I’m the bad guy all she wants, but at least with me she’ll be safe.
She’ll be worshipped.
She’ll be loved.
Chapter 11
—Sybil
My head pounds. My pulse hammering against my temples. Blinking my eyes, I struggle to sit up. I glance around the dark room unable to remember where I am. I can’t make out my surroundings. It’s too dark. My throat is dry like it’s stuffed full of cotton. Swallowing is nearly painful. My tongue feels bumpy and rough. I lick my teeth then my lips.
My sight begins to adjust to the darkness. My memory is hazy, but I know I’m not where I last was. I was with him…Diego in that fucking hole. The man who betrayed me. The man who broke my heart.
The phantom sensation of bugs crawling over my skin sends a shiver through me.
The moment those words
left his lips, “You were right…,” my heart cracked in two. God, he had me fooled. Jesus was right. Men like Diego uses girls like me up and tosses us away. Jesus is no better, he is still worse in my eyes. I think I hate them both.
I scoot to the edge of the bed and it’s this moment when I realize something is wrong with my hand? I flex it and the bandage wrinkles with the movement. Why the hell is my hand wrapped? Why is it hurting so damn bad? A throbbing pain is pulsing so bad I can feel it all the way in my toes. Bile rushes up my esophagus. Half of my pinky finger is gone. My stomach lurches and sweat drips down my back. Chill bumps fan over my body as I retch and dry heave. There is nothing on my stomach to expel.
I don’t understand. Spit dribbles down my chin, and I grip the sheet and wipe at my face. Did he do this to me? Did Diego knock me out and cut off part of my finger? My head spins and I fall back on the bed with a million questions and emotions dancing in my head.
“I need you to trust me, Princessa…” his voice rings in my ears. A sinking feeling settles in my gut and my tears fall.
I trusted him.
I fucked him.
He fucked me in more ways than I thought possible.
His betrayal shouldn’t hurt so greatly but it does. It’s like hot coals being raked over my body.
My only question is why aren’t I dead yet? If he was sent to kill me why hasn’t he? Hope blooms in my chest, but I squash that emotion down.
A door opens and light spills into the room. My temples throb once more and my heart pounds in my chest. “You’re awake,” Diego’s gritty voice washes over me and my stomach tightens.
“Go to hell,” I rasp as more tears blind my vision. My hand is killing me and it’s hard to focus on anything but the ache I feel where the other half of my pinky used to be. “How much?” He takes a step closer. “How much!” I cry, holding my hand where my finger should be. “How much did my stepmother pay you?”
“Nothing.”
I start laughing. I don’t know why yet I can’t stop.
“Sybil,” he starts, but I cut him off with a stare that is intended to kill if looks could very well kill.
Snow White & The Biker Page 6