UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8)

by Hayley Faiman

  Shaking my head, I take a step back from her wondering when I became a man who was monogamous. Not long ago, I would have shoved her to her knees and stuffed my cock down her throat before she could blink twice.

  “You need to go to bed, sleep it off.”

  “When did you become such a pussy?” she shouts.

  A year ago, I would have taken her right here, in this bar, to prove that I’m no pussy, to show her and everyone else that my dick swings low. But I’m not that man anymore. I’m not going to fuck her, face or cunt, on principle alone and I refuse to become him again.

  “I’m not. Just don’t fuck desperate,” I say, turning around to go in search of Pamela.

  The whore behind me bursts out laughing. “No, you fuck Jailbait. You’re a fucking pedophile sick fuck.”

  It’s as if the entire room goes completely silent. Maybe it does. I’m not sure, because I can’t hear anything other than the blood that roars through my ears. Balling my hands into fists at my side, I wonder what kind of shit I would get into for hitting this trash bitch. Then I close my eyes and shake it off.

  I am not that man.

  At least that’s what I tell myself. I repeat the words over and over, walking away from her and not reacting the way that I want to. I’m also not what she claims me to be. I’ve never looked at a girl under the age of eighteen and thought about fucking her. I don’t troll the high schools looking for cunt, never had a desire for anyone underage.

  Not until I saw her.

  Fuck, maybe something is wrong with me, but Pamela is different. At least that’s what I tell myself. She’s special, I don’t think about her age, it doesn’t even come into play, other than I think she needs someone better than me, that she needs someone who has their shit together.

  “You need a drink?”

  Jerking my chin, I look over to see Coyote standing a few feet away with a beer in his hand. He waves it at me, and I gladly take it from him, downing half of it in one gulp.

  “You cool?” he asks.

  “Almost hit that bitch,” I admit.

  He watches me for a long moment in silence, then clears his throat. “Glad you didn’t. Would have really put a damper on the night. You’re going to Oregon in a few days, yeah?”

  I snort, my lips curving up into a grin. “I am.”

  “Got you a pretty girl that seems to be totally into you, too.”

  With a hum, I scan the room for said pretty girl. “Yeah, I do,” I say distractedly as I look for Pamela.

  “She saw you with her, went to bed,” Coyote says. “Alone,” he finishes.

  I take a step away from him, deciding to go to Pamela when he calls my name. I stop, looking over my shoulder to him, waiting for whatever it is he’s about to say.

  “Gisele was nineteen when we met. You’re no more a pedo than I am. I’m tellin’ you, that girl, the life you’re starting and the changes you’ve made. You’re on your way, brother.”

  “On my way?”

  He nods his head. “To the sweet life.”

  I jerk my chin, then turn and walk away, toward that sweetness that Coyote talks about. Luckily, nobody stops me as I slip into the bedroom, one that I know Pammy shares with Pinkie and two other women.

  It isn’t hard to see her, the moonlight is shining into the room, her back is to me and she’s facing the wall. She’s still wearing her shorts and tank from earlier, obviously not going to bed. I stand across from her, watching her as I finish my beer wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with her.

  PAMELA

  I can feel him watching me. I knew immediately when he walked into the room that it was him. He didn’t have to say a single word to me. Not one. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to say or do next.

  It doesn’t take long until I feel the mattress dip behind me. Then I feel the length of his body press against the back of mine. His lips touch the side of my neck, then travel up to the shell of my ear as his hand slides around my ribs and his fingers curl around my breast.

  “You didn’t come to our room,” he rasps.

  “Our?” I ask, trying to hide the surprise in my voice and failing.

  He hums, his warm breath washing over my ear. “Yeah, Sunny. Our. You’re mine now.”

  Turning my head slightly, I look back over my shoulder at him. I can’t see much, the shadows of the darkness in the room covering his features. But what I do see, bright and shining in the dimness is his bright white teeth as he smiles.

  “I’m yours. But are you mine?”

  A question I’m not quite sure I want the answer to. Typically, the answer is no, always. I want it to be yes though. I’m like any other girl, hoping and dreaming for a fairy tale, for a fantasy. I want him to be completely and utterly devoted to me and only me, nobody else in the entire universe exists, even if that’s just a silly girl’s dream.

  “Solely yours, Sunny. Nobody else I want.”

  “And does that mean your body is mine too?”

  His smile doesn’t fade at my question, in fact, he lifts his hand and his fingers touch the tip of my nose. He lets out a chuckle, and I can’t help but smile, at least he’s not angry at my question. He finds me humorous if nothing else.

  Then his expression changes.

  It happens in an instant and gone is all of his humor, all of his jokes, instead he becomes serious as he watches me. Turning over a bit more in his arms, I lift my hand between us and cup his cheek.

  “Yeah,” he says roughly, his eyes focused on mine, connecting and holding my own. “My body is yours. I’m done fucking around. I want this and I want it to be real.”

  Pressing my lips together, I roll them around as I try to really take him in. He’s serious, his expression is, and most importantly, his eyes are. That is what eases my worries, what gives me the trust that I need to accept what he’s saying—his eyes.

  “Me too,” I say. “I want all of you, all of this.”

  He hums, leaning forward slightly to brush his lips across mine. “You got me, you got this. Can’t give you much,” he says against my lips. “But I can give you me.”

  I think about that for a moment. He claims he can’t give me much, but he doesn’t realize that he’s given me more than I’ve ever had. Pressing my lips against his, I slide my tongue across the seam of his lips, tasting the beer that he must have just finished.

  Dylan lets out a grunt as I roll us over and straddle his hips. He doesn’t say anything right away, his hands wrap around my waist as he holds me in place.

  Our mouths work together, kissing, tasting, sucking. It’s beautiful and sexy, it causes my belly to clench and just when I thought that I was too sore, too exhausted for more, I want him again. Breaking the kiss, I nibble on his bottom lip the way that he always does mine.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  “What do you want?” he asks, his voice husky and gruff.

  “You,” I breathe.

  He shakes his head and I catch the sparkle in his eyes in the moonlight. “What do you want me to do?”

  I want his mouth between my legs, I want to feel his tongue work me the way that he did earlier. Then, I want to ride him and have his hands roam all over my body, touching, pinching, tugging on every inch of me until we both come.

  I can’t say any of it out loud though, it’s way too embarrassing. His fingers grip my waist tightly and he jerks me slightly. I can feel his hard length between my legs and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, biting hard.

  “Tell me,” he demands.

  Shaking my head, I don’t take my gaze from his. “I can’t say it,” I say, squirming against him.

  He chuckles. “You don’t tell me. I won’t do it.”

  I let out a frustrated growl, then I tell him. It’s embarrassing, my cheeks are no doubt bright red. My skin feels hot and I’m sure that he can tell how completely embarrassed I am about this entire thing. Thankfully, he has the good sense not to comment or poke fun at me.

  “You wan
t me to eat that sweet pussy, you better take your shorts off, Sunny, and climb up.”

  “Climb up?” I ask.

  His lips curve up into a cocky grin and he lets out a small chuckle. “You’re riding my face tonight. C’mon up here now.”

  If things weren’t embarrassing enough, now he wants me to sit on his face. On. His. Face. I know that my face turns white, I know that I stare at him in complete shock. I know that he finds it cute, because he says so. And in the end, I’m glad that I showered before the party because I shimmy off my shorts, peel off my tank, and for the first time ever, I ride someone’s face.

  And.

  It.

  Is.

  Awesome.

  After a few minutes of feeling awkward, that sensation goes away and another one fills me. Pure need. I end up grinding down against his face, not caring if he lives or dies, if he breathes or suffocates, if I break his nose or not. Nothing matters because it feels so damn good that nothing could matter in this moment.

  When I come, it’s one of those orgasms that rushes through me then lingers. My thighs, my torso, my entire body twitches as I attempt to come down from the high that he’s given me. He picks me up slightly and slides me down his body so that I’m straddling his chest.

  “Now you can ride my cock, Sunny.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  JAGUAR

  Staring at the ceiling, I comb my fingers through her hair. Two days. This has been the best two days of my entire life. Now I have to leave her. I’ve wanted nothing more than to go to Oregon, but now that it’s here, I don’t want to walk away. I want to stay.

  I want more of this, so much fucking more.

  “Do you think you won’t have this when you come back?” Pamela asks softly.

  I hadn’t realized that I’d spoken my worry aloud. Gathering her a bit closer in my arms, I close my eyes as her body presses against my side. She’s soft and feels so fucking good right where she is.

  “Maybe,” I admit.

  She lifts her head and I tip my chin down to look into her eyes. We search one another for a long silent moment. Then finally she speaks.

  “I’ll be right here when you come back.”

  “Yeah, what if me killing your old man does something, what if you decide I’m a monster? Because he won’t survive. I plan on his blood being on my hands.”

  Maybe my words are harsh. I’m not sure, but I don’t care either. He will die and I’ll be the one to do it, if not myself, then I’m going to watch him take his final breath. Fuck Riot, fuck him and his entire club and everything that the Donkey Punchers stand for.

  “I watched him kill my mother. She wasn’t a particularly good mother, but mostly because he kept her high all the time. She was mine though and he killed her because she didn’t want what happened to girls down there to happen to me. What was happening to her, to happen to me.

  “I remember bits and pieces, I remember enough to know that she did not want that for me, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. What kind of man wants to have his daughter raped by countless men? Seriously? You’d be doing the entire world a service by killing him. I’d stand there and watch if I could.”

  My stomach twists at her words, at the meaning of them. Clearing my throat, I tug her a bit closer. “I come back and we’re going to settle. Find a place, be together.”

  Her lips curve up into a grin and she watches me for a long moment. “I like the sound of that,” she breathes.

  I hum, rolling her over onto her back. She giggles and the sounds bounce off of the walls around me. Never heard a woman giggle like Pammy does, not with me. Never had a woman happy to be lying naked in bed with me, either. All I’ve ever had is cunt in the name of duty, safety, guilt, and manipulation.

  Looking down at her, she’s got a wide smile on her face, her eyes bright and so fucking happy. She looks really fucking young, too and that causes me to pause for a moment. Lifting my hand, I tuck some of her hair behind her ear and search her face.

  “You’re too young for me, Sunny,” I rasp. Her brows snap together and she lets out a grunt before she opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her get a word out. “Don’t matter much though, because I’m not letting you go. You had your chance to leave.”

  “Did I?” she asks.

  My lips curve up into a grin. “Not really.”

  “I didn’t think so,” she says softly.

  “Wish you did?”

  She shakes her head, then her arms wrap around my shoulders at the same time her long legs wrap around my hips. She tilts her hips and I groan at the feeling of her pussy against my semi-hard length.

  “You think I’m a teenager, as much as you want to fuck me, Sunny,” I murmur, dipping my chin to touch my lips to hers.

  Kissing didn’t mean much to me before I met her. It’s different now. Having her lips on me, tangling my tongue with hers, it’s foreplay that I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of. It’s an intimacy that I didn’t realize was even possible.

  “You can handle it,” she purrs as her nails dig into the flesh of my shoulders.

  My cock is hard, it’s ready and waiting to be inside of her. Aching, actually. I haven’t fucked this much since I was a kid, since I discovered pussy at the Beasts was free and easy. I went wild for far too long.

  Pinkie was one of my favorites. She could go as many times as I could. The bitch never tapped out. Now that I’m older, now that I understand what she was going through, I realize that she was in pain and using sex to mask it, just like Della. Just like me.

  Shaking the thoughts of Della and Pinkie from my head, I shift my hips and sink inside of Pamela’s tight pussy. She’s wet, warm, and welcoming. I can’t help but groan at the sensation of her body wrapped around mine.

  Fucking perfect every single time.

  I honestly don’t think I could ever get tired of the way she feels. I’ve never thought myself an addict. I like booze and weed, dabbled in coke and other shit, but never needed anything the way that I need this, need her cunt.

  The euphoria that I feel is beyond anything else I’ve ever encountered. This is something that I could very well become addicted to, if I’m not already.

  “Yeah,” I murmur, sweat gathering along my lower back. “I can handle a fuck of a lot when it comes to you, Sunny. Including this sweet cunt.”

  “Dylan,” she says, with a hitch of her breath as I slam inside of her.

  The first few strokes were easy, but now I’m taking and that’s hard and with purpose. She arches her neck, lifting her hips to meet mine on each stroke, giving just as good as she’s getting, the way she always does. It’s fucking phenomenal.

  “Take it, Sunny. Take me.”

  She gasps. “Yes,” she hisses through her panting breaths.

  I don’t know what else to say, if I do say anything else I’m going to admit my love for her and I’m not ready for that, not at fucking all. Instead, I clench my teeth, gnashing them together as I press my knees in the mattress and I fuck her with everything that I have.

  Then, when she’s come, her pussy clamping down hard around my cock. When she’s sweaty and messy. When she’s come down from her release and her legs twitch around my hips, only then do I bury myself deep inside of her and come—hard.

  I fill her with my release, hoping that it moves, that it plants my baby deep inside of her. Hoping that it binds her to me for fucking life. As addicted to her as I am, I am also possessive and jealous. I don’t want anyone thinking they could have a moment with her. I don’t want her thinking that she could ever leave me.

  She can’t.

  She’s mine.

  PAMELA

  “I’ll only be gone a few days, a week tops. We’re going in and getting out. Nothing fancy,” Dylan explains.

  His hands cup my cheeks and I watch him, wondering if this is destined to be my life. Always watching as he leaves me for an undetermined amount of time, then hoping he returns in one piece. It’s dramatic, I know, but
it is also reality.

  “Stay inside until it’s done. I don’t want you wandering around.”

  “You don’t think?” I ask as my gaze flicks around the empty desert land around us.

  Just like the clubhouse in California, this one is isolated. Except, instead of being surrounded by trees and forest, we’re surrounded by desert. Both are equally as deadly and scary in my opinion. Terrifying, actually.

  “I don’t,” he says, breaking my fearful thoughts that have found their way inside of my head.

  This whole time, I have felt safe. I know that Riot could be out there, but with the men here, with Dylan always close, it never occurred to me that he could actually get to me.

  I’m naïve, I know that he could find his way to me if he wanted to, but I’m also under no illusion that he cares for me in the slightest, other than just to take me because of a need to control. I was his, in Riot’s eyes he owned me, therefore the fact that the Beasts have me could piss him off tremendously.

  That would be the only reason he would ever even give a shit about me at all. To prove that he can take me and he will.

  War.

  It’s ugly and brutal and my father loves every second of it. It’s why he started it with the Beasts in the first place. But he didn’t take into account that the Beasts have no taste for it. He didn’t think they’d just show up, shoot shit up and burn it to the fucking ground in a matter of seconds, and they did.

  It was terrifying, glorious, and beautiful, all at the same time to see the Donkey Puncher clubhouse aflame. But my father and a few of his men escaped, mainly because they’re cowards and they ran. They weren’t going to stand there and fight, not when they were on the losing side.

  “What happens after this?” I ask.

  Dylan watches me for a moment, then his lips curve up into a grin. “We live the sweet life, Sunny. Until the next battle, that is.”

  “There’s always something, isn’t there?”