Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset

by Serena Akeroyd

  His thrusts were slow, too slow, yet too fast. His hips bucked into mine, our skin slapping, bodies clapping as we bounced off one another, and then he jerked upright, and he pulled half of his cock out.

  Another scream escaped me, and I started to cry when he fucked me. I missed his full length, but I also didn’t feel like having a bruised cervix, so I was half-delirious from the impending orgasm, and half overcome with gratitude at his care.

  When he pinched my clit, I yelled, “You bastard!” It sounded choked, but then, that was me.

  Choking on his dick.

  In more ways than one.

  I bowed my head and once again, gnawed on my arm to contain the pressure of what he was making me feel. When he placed his hands just below my ribcage, I almost melted when I realized it was to protect me from being hit in the stomach as he rammed into me.

  Then, the damnedest thing happened.

  His cock throbbed inside me, and because he was so big, and I wasn’t, I knew what that meant.

  My entire body responded to that pulsation, everything inside me starting to switch off to deal with the cataclysm heading my way.

  And just as he came, a loud grunt escaping him as his hands squeezed my waist, his body moving faster to deal with the welter of pleasure hitting him, I felt my own orgasm blast into being.

  And like that, I was a goner.

  A fucking no hope, because, in that second, Nyx claimed me in a way that no man ever could.

  Ever would.

  And I was fucked.

  In more ways than one, because I’d never be any biker’s Old Lady, and he, damn him, probably didn’t even want a girlfriend, never mind anything as permanent as branding me as his.

  But my climax was too powerful to make any of my bittersweet thoughts overtake the joy of what he gifted me, so I threw myself into it like it was the deep end of a pool, and I drowned in him, in everything he had to give me, because this had to be enough.

  Even if I knew, deep down in my heart, that it wasn’t and never would be.

  Eight

  Nyx

  I HATED how right she felt on the back of my bike.

  It actually fucking irked me. Her arms around my waist, her heat on my back, her legs cupping my hips. It was perfect. Sheer fucking bliss, and I didn’t know why.

  Didn’t understand why.

  How could I?

  I wasn’t used to these feelings, wasn’t used to the warmth inside me—it was alien. All I knew was that I liked her there, and even that was too much.

  The wind blasted us in the face, so I understood why she turned her head and burrowed into my cut. I understood, even as I bemoaned it, because I liked that too.

  I liked how she cuddled into me, and I liked even more how, earlier on, she’d seen the monster come to life inside me, and she hadn’t run away. If anything, she’d welcomed that beast with open arms.

  I gritted my teeth as my cock started to get hard. She’d be too sore to take any more of me tonight, and not for the first time, I cursed my cock, because it was a serious impediment to a good fuck.

  What was even more of an impediment?

  I knew she was out for the count, and I still wanted to get into bed with her.

  What the fuck did that mean?

  As we drove down the highway and veered off into the valley where the clubhouse was situated, I saw the cop car in the nook where it waited on speeders, and raised a hand in salute. When they flashed their headlamps, I whirred on past, until I made it to the gates and found Jaxson waiting there to push the button that would open them up and let us in.

  He nodded at me as I drove up the drive, but instead of parking up by the garage where everyone did, I carried on over to the bunkhouse where Giulia was staying.

  As I pulled up and cut the engine, she squeezed my waist, then hopped off the back. When I stared at her, she tipped her head to the side.

  “What?”

  I shrugged, because I didn’t have an answer. Mostly, I was just wondering how she could look so good in both daylight and moonlight. It was a full moon, and her hair was dappled with silver strands that made the pitch dark of the chestnut locks seem even richer. Her skin gleamed too, and I wanted to see her against crisp white sheets as I fucked her in a pool of this light...

  And then I asked myself again if I’d grown a cunt because, shit, what was I even thinking? Romance? I didn’t do that shit. I didn’t need to, never had and never would, and that I might even want to start with that shit made me distrust this entire situation all the more.

  Not enough to head on back to the clubhouse though.

  Fuck that.

  She tugged at my hand in an attempt to get my attention—because, yeah, I hadn’t been giving her enough of that recently—and she repeated, “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled, and kicking the stand, I got off the bike and straightened up.

  As I walked toward her place, she stayed put, then she rushed after me. “What are you doing?”

  I peered at her over my shoulder. “We’re going to bed.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m a bit sore.”

  She didn’t have to tell me that. I was seriously a goddamn expert on vaginas.

  “Then we did a good job tonight,” was all I said.

  A snort escaped her. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “And another is... I want to go to bed to sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “You do?” She pulled a face. “I have an early start and a late finish.”

  “All the more reason to hurry the hell up and get into bed then, yeah?”

  She stared up at me, her eyes worried as she twisted the door handle.

  When she pushed open the door, then released a sharp breath, I sensed her relief that her brothers weren’t in, because the place was dark and there were no noises coming from the bedroom.

  She didn’t wait for me or invite me in, Giulia just headed straight for the fridge and, surprise surprise, grabbed a carton of milk.

  As she poured some into a mug, I watched as she put it in the microwave, and I leaned against the doorjamb to watch that fine ass of hers as she moved around.

  “You gonna stand there all night and let in that draft?”

  I didn’t reply, just edged out of the way and closed the door behind me.

  Not bothering to move, though, I carried on watching her. Every now and then, she’d peer at me over her shoulder and huff before returning to staring at the milk in the microwave.

  When it beeped and she pulled it out, she grumbled, “Anyone tell you it’s rude to stare?”

  “No one ever fucking dared.”

  A laugh escaped her, and she turned around, leaned back against the counter, and before blowing on her drink, muttered, “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “People stopped telling me what to do when I was fourteen,” I admitted.

  Her eyes widened at that. “How come?”

  There wasn’t a second’s hesitation in me, no doubt about answering with the truth—she deserved to know what I was and why. A part of me feared she’d run, but I needed to know if she could take it. If everything I had to give was too much for her, and so, I told her, “That was when I killed my uncle.”

  She paused, mid-blow, and for a second, she just gaped at me. “You’re joking, right?” Then, when she saw I wasn’t fucking laughing, her brow puckered. “But... I don’t remember hearing that about you, and I remember you.”

  Inside, I was pleased that she did. I couldn’t say I’d remembered her, mostly because of the age difference, but also because at fourteen, babies hadn’t been of that much interest to me, and that had also been the year when I’d taken control of the monster who’d destroyed my family.

  Suddenly, I felt the fourteen-year age gap keenly. Not just the years, but also the experience. The shit I’d done. The blood on my hands... She was clean. Pure. I was anything but.

  “You wouldn’t have heard anything about it. Not even an urban le
gend over it. Rex’s dad, Bear, covered it up.”

  “Why did you kill him?” she whispered, her milk forgotten as she placed the mug on the counter.

  “He was raping my sister. I had to protect her memory.”

  Her eyes looked like they were about to pop out. “D-Did he hurt you too?”

  “He threatened me. Told me if I told anyone he’d rape me too.” My jaw worked. “She begged me not to say anything, begged me to let her protect me, because she knew he’d do it, and she knew no one would believe me if I told the truth.”

  “What happened?”

  “She killed herself, and I had no choice but to make him pay for it.”

  Giulia, blinking all the while, crumpled down until she was sitting on the floor, her back to the counter. She looked like I’d punched her in the belly, but she wasn’t eying me with fear, didn’t look like she was on the brink of calling the cops. If anything, she looked confused. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I’m not good for you, and you’d be wise to toss me out of here.”

  My tone was calm, my words informative, and I projected just how rational and level-headed I was.

  My kills were badges of honor, but the rage inside me made me the monster I was. But I’d never hurt her. Ever. And I needed her to know that, even if she did throw me out, even if she did think I was deranged, I needed her to know that she was safe from me, and from any other fucker in the vicinity.

  I wasn’t sure why it was important that she knew that, just that it was imperative.

  “How did you kill him?”

  The demon, which was leashed after that delicious fuck back at the bar, tore at its leash. “Shot him.”

  Her head twisted to the side. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

  My mouth worked, but the only word that would come out was, “Eh?”

  “Bastard deserved to have his dick cut off while he watched. Shooting him seems like the punishment wasn’t up to the crime.” I stared at her long enough for her to shrug. “Guess that isn’t PC of me, huh?”

  “I didn’t want to go to juvie. I made it look like an accident.”

  That caught her interest. “Really? How did you do that?”

  “You gonna go to the cops?” I didn’t think she would, but her reaction surprised me enough to ask anyway.

  She smirked. “You should have thought about that before you tried to warn me off, and anyway, do I look stupid? You’d come baying for my blood before I even had the chance, and I have no intention of going into WitSec, or dying before I’m at least sixty-five.”

  Well, that was one way of looking at this situation.

  Clearing my throat, I confessed, “He used to hunt. A lot. I fucked with the barrel on his shotgun. The pellets backfired.”

  “Seriously?”

  Fuck me, did she sound impressed?

  I rubbed a hand over my face, because this conversation hadn’t gone down the route I’d expected. “Yeah.”

  “Guess your family didn’t opt to have an open casket, huh?”

  Okay, it was a sick joke, but fuck, I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t withhold it.

  I laughed.

  I laughed like I’d never laughed before, and my belly ached as I let my amusement swirl inside me, because damn, that was a good one.

  She beamed at me when I’d finished hiccupping, and when I stopped, propping myself up by shoving my hands against my knees, she announced, “I like seeing you laugh.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” I said dryly, rubbing my stomach where a weird ache had gathered from laughing so hard.

  “You just never had much to laugh about before.” She got to her feet. “Whatever we are, Nyx, I’d like to think of you as a friend.” Friend?

  The demon practically screeched inside me in outrage.

  ‘Friends’ wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

  But I dipped my chin, because two fucks didn’t make her mine.

  When she moved toward me, her hand outstretched, I stared at it, then peered at her. She beckoned me with her fingers, and I reached over and slipped mine into hers.

  “Now we’re done with story time,” she commented ruefully, “it’s definitely time for bed.”

  As we walked toward her bedroom, she shut off the light when we crossed the threshold. The second the door was closed behind her, she flicked on a bedside lamp before she began to strip. When she was in the raw, she reached for a shirt that was draped over the foot of the bed. Everything inside me cringed at the man’s tee she wore, and when she saw me eying her up, and in what I assumed wasn’t a good way, her lips twitched.

  “Easy, Tiger. It’s my brother’s.”

  Though that was marginally more acceptable, it still pissed me off. Quickly, I shucked off my cut and Henley. Passing her the shirt, I demanded, “Wear that instead.”

  She snorted. “You’re taller than me, but you’re not the Hulk. This isn’t going to cover my pussy.”

  “Be grateful I’m letting you wear anything at all,” I grumbled, as I carefully folded up my cut and placed it on the chair that sat in the corner of the room, beside the bathroom door.

  Though she huffed, she didn’t argue. From the corner of my eye, I saw her lift the shirt to her nose and take a cautious sniff. At first, I thought she was checking to see if I stank, then when she sighed and smiled a little, I realized why, and fuck if that didn’t make me feel like King Dick.

  I twisted around to watch her pull on the Henley, and she wasn’t wrong. Her pussy and ass were on display.

  “Best. Idea. Ever,” I muttered as I eyed her cunt. Fuck, I wished she was messy from my cum, and the idea of fucking her bareback made everything inside me clench with need.

  She pshawed at me, however, unaware that my cock was aching once more, even though she’d blown my mind back at the bar.

  She tugged down the sheet, then scrambled into bed before she curled onto her side, facing the portion where I’d be lying and not the wall like I’d half expected.

  As I peered around, saw how neat it was, I didn’t feel right just dumping my shit on the floor. Though my place was neat, before bed, it was anything goes. Instead, I folded my pants over the chair, too, after I toed off my boots and neatly lined them up against the wall.

  When I strode over to the bed, I flicked off the light beside the nightstand, and climbed in. Her heat wasn’t something I was unaccustomed to. Cammie often crashed beside me in bed before I tossed her out on a morning, but she was usually drunk, and stank of it as well.

  Giulia smelled of flowers, and she was wearing my Henley, so I could also smell my aftershave, as well as a faint whisper of sweat that came from having fucked her back at the bar.

  I stared up at the ceiling, eying the lights that flashed over it when bikes began to pull into the compound, the curtains not preventing that intrusion from invading our space.

  It felt good to lie here, to just breathe and be. No expectations, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Mostly, it was good to have her by my side.

  She confused me, or to be precise, my feelings for her confused me, but I’d rather be bewildered and with her than back in my room wondering where her head was at, as I’d been doing the last couple of nights.

  “Why did you tell me that?” she whispered into the darkness, breaking into my thoughts.

  “I told you why.” I let my head roll on the pillow so I could look at her. She was cuddled up, not in fear, just readying herself for sleep. Her hair was tossed everywhere, some strands even reached out to connect with me. I kind of wished she was closer, close enough to touch, but I’d never ask her to move nearer. I’d feel stupid making such a request.

  “You meant to frighten me off?”

  My lips curved in the darkness. “Most people wouldn’t invite a serial killer into their bed.”

  She fell quiet again. “How many people have you killed?”

  “A lot.”

  Her hand came out, and she touched my arm. “Don’t you dare say
it’s club business.”

  “It isn’t. It’s personal.” The club made it their business for my sake, but it wasn’t. Not really. They spared my sanity, and as a reward, they had the most dedicated Enforcer in the States. Because I was so vigilant, we had very few deaths. To the point where we’d hardly lost anyone to anything other than natural causes since Rex had become Prez and had promoted me to Enforcer. As for losing people to jail? That wasn’t something I could control as much.

  She gripped my bicep, her nails digging in slightly. It was unintentional, as was the delight that speared me in the gut from that tiny prick of discomfort. “What’s the tattoo on your back?”

  “You noticed that?”

  “Couldn’t really miss it,” she whispered.

  I thought about the tattoo that covered every inch of my spine. Some of it was colored in, some of it was shaded, some of it was waiting to be marked. I knew it would never be complete, because there were too many sick fucks waiting to feel my wrath.

  “Nyx? What is it? What does it mean?”

  The devil was between my shoulders, his horned head smirking out at the world. The lines of his face reminded me of the Iron Man helmet, but I’d had this on my spine long before Robert Downey Jr had worn that particular suit.

  Lucifer’s arms hugged decapitated skulls that were bleeding from the eyes and mouth. Twenty-eight skulls, to be exact, because I was waiting on my twenty-ninth tattoo.

  Satan was blood-red, bringing the black and white skulls, and the blood on them, into sharp relief.

  “Each skull is a man I’ve killed.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did I kill them?”

  She snorted. “No. I can figure that out.”

  “Oh, you can?” I demanded, turning onto my side so I could look at her. In the shadows, I couldn’t see much, but my eyes had adapted to the minimal light, and that irritating flash of headlamps helped me see her expression.

  Her eyes were closed, and her features weren’t pinched like she was terrified. If anything, she looked relaxed.

  I wasn’t sure who was more astounded.

  Me, or the fucking demon who lived inside me.