by Forgy, M. N.
“Break for me, toy,” he brushes the hair from my face softly, his voice low and rough.
I swallow in his hold but say nothing.
God, I want to break for him. And maybe I already am, but if so, I know deep down there’s a brick of my stubbornness left. Once I break… there will be no coming back. I will be his, and I will kill him in his sleep if he tries to leave me.
I won’t handle a broken heart lightly. Madness will travel from my mind to my heart, and everyone near me will burn in a rage only a horror movie can mimic.
* * *
I’m suddenly jostled awake, the strong familiar hands of Machete biting into my skin as I’m thrown over his taut shoulder. Quickly I try and blink the blurriness away and wake up.
Music from Nine Inch Nails sings “Closer”. It’s blaring so loud in the other room I’m surprised it didn’t wake me up first.
My hair falls in my eyes masking where he’s walking us to.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask with a sleepy voice. I hear the sound of water running, and before I know it cold ice pelts into my skin like little daggers.
I scream as I’m held under the showerhead, my clothes soaking with arctic cold water. How can something so cold burn so badly?
“Where is Cross, Raven. Tell me something goddamn it,” Machete begs me to give him something, his hands holding me in place.
My teeth chatter, my skin turning bright pink from the chill, and my head hurts as if an iceberg was crushed inside of it.
Shifting my hair from my face I look over my shoulder at Machete’s emerald blazing eyes, pleading for me to give him the answer he seeks. He’s scared for me. Lowering my numb head, I close my eyes, trying to focus on the question but all I can think of is how cold I am.
Suddenly his body presses against my back, the warmth of him causing me to lean into him. Each of his hands presses against the tile, boxing me in.
“Let me save you,” he desperately whispers in the back of my head. A cry wracks my body, as an internal scream spills from my lips from the unbearable cold. My soul splintering from the relentless hold this man has on my psyche. Being in this bunker with Machete… I never want to be saved. He hurts me so good but makes me feel like I’m worth something all at the same time.
Machete growls into my neck. My screams undoing him, turning him on. His hard length pressing into my lower back telling me so. The cold water can’t even cover his desire for me.
Suddenly I’m picked up, my body shivering and clinging to Machete like a magnet. He’s so warm it burns my skin, the contact to harsh. He takes me into my cell and strips me from my wet clothes. My nipples are so hard and every pore in my body is sealed shut. I sit there in a catatonic state, not sure what to do or say. I’m frozen. My body deprived of basic function.
Machete stands, unbuttoning his red and black shirt from his chest and unzipping his damp jeans. Turning he walks into the other room, his strides strong and fierce as he grabs the thick blanket off the back of the couch he sleeps on. His ass cheeks chiseled to perfection, and thick legs oddly a turn-on. Stepping back in my room, he wraps us both in the blanket and lays us down on the cot.
I wince from the sudden warmth of him and the blanket, it feels like lava against my sensitive skin but I don’t want to pull away from the contact.
I continue to shiver as his hot breath sticks to the back of my neck. My fingers across his strong, toasty arms. I pull him closer to me, hiking my leg over his frame for more heat. My God he smells so manly, and the feel of his naked skin against mine takes me to a world of thermal desire.
“Is this a game of torture and rescue?” I ask. “Because you’re a shitty prince charming.”
“I’m not a boy pretending to play prince or be some fucking king,” he breathes heavily into the back of my head. “I want to be your fucking master Raven, and I will be.”
He quickly flips on top of me. The blanket hovering over us as his arms press into each side of my head. God, he’s so fucked up, yet I want his company on a desperate level. Reaching forward I cup his scruffy cheek and look into lost eyes. “You are my master. If anyone takes my life… I want it to be you,” I whisper. I feel like he’s the only one who has truly seen me, and would give a shit about if I suffer or not.
His brows slice inward and his face hardens with my statement.
“Would you die for me, Raven?” His tone serious.
“Death is easy, living is what is hard.”
He tilts his head to the side eyeing me. “So would you live for me?”
“Maybe, but the rebel woman in me will never break for you.” I purse my lips defiantly. He may make me his, may even break me, but my defiant ways will always be a part of who I am.
Machete slams his lips against mine with urgency, they’re firm but soft. Controlling yet, submissive. It’s a rollercoaster I can’t make right or wrong of, but I know I want to ride over and over again. Maybe when he kills me he will kiss the last breath from my lungs until I slip into everlasting peace.
“Are you warm now,” he whispers against my face, and I nod. Just wanting him to continue kissing me. Bending over the bed, he grabs his shirt off the floor and wraps it around my face concealing my sight and my senses kick into hyper drive. I smell everything and hear all. The bat chirping in the vent, the dirty water from the shower draining into the well underneath us, and the steady beat drumming in Machete’s chest. My skin is warm and back to a normal temperature. Feeling his skin against mine pleasurable and longing.
Tantalizingly slow he rubs his palm between the valley of my tits as he applies light pressure, pushing my back against the bed.
All I see is darkness and smell spicy old leather.
One of his hands continues its descent down my right hip before gripping me from under my thigh and hitching it up swiftly. Hot heavy breaths pant against my face as my knees begin to shake with desire. His thick length presses against my sex and my eyes widen, my nails digging into his skin to pull him further against me.
“Are you sore from the other night?” he asks. I squirm getting a feeling if I can handle his massive length right now.
“A little,” I shrug, but I’d do anything to have Machete erase it all. Pain or no pain, just make it disappear.
He laughs deeply and tosses the blanket over his head. Teeth graze my belly button as he descends downward. Butterflies build in my stomach as I think of where he’s headed. Another first for me. He pushes my knees apart, his beard whisking against my mound and I can’t help but inhale deeply.
He flicks his tongue at my clit and I clench my eyes shut at the teasing temptation. My toes curl with anticipation and my hands crawl into the mattress as if it has the release my body seeks. I can’t see him or know what he’s doing with this damn shirt over my face but it makes it a turn on not knowing his next move.
His warm, wet tongue swirls and grinds against my clit, twisting me into a hurricane of pleasure. Fingers slowly inch their way down my inner thigh and my ribs ache the closer they get to my pulsing pussy. He sucks, licks, and nibbles my sex like it’s his last meal, and finally two fingers part my lips and dive into my heat all at once. They circle, twirl, mimicking his dexterous tongue. My clit quivers and all the hairs on my body rise. Teeth press into my clit, and I gasp for air that doesn’t seem to be entering my lungs. Second by second, he applies more pressure, gifting pain and pleasure as his fingers play me into a sinful rhythm. All at once an orgasm gets lodged in my throat and I forget to breathe, my chest feeling like a sinking sand bed as I melt into a world of heat and tingles and I ignite like a million firecrackers just went off in his mouth.
My head crawls to the edge of the bed as I gyrate against his face lost in a world of pleasure.
It’s so wet, warm, and feels so damn good.
Coming down from a high I never experienced, he pulls his fingers from my sensitive sex and goose bumps race along my spine. I lay there continuing to pant, my lungs begging for sweet air.
&nbs
p; He gives a chaste kiss against my clit and throws the blanket from over his head. Fingers untie the shirt from around my face, and my eyes fixate on his. His beard wet from me, his eyes crazy. An arrogant smirk kicks up on his handsome face.
“Wipe that smirk off your face.” I toss the shirt at him, and he chuckles and dodges it.
“I can’t help it, your body responds to me in ways I can’t control. It’s… amazing,” he whispers against the skin of my right inner knee, his hands caressing my legs like he can’t stop touching me. Even with his mind fucking torture, he makes me feel like I’m the only one.
“Yo brother!” Gatz yells from the other room. Machete curses under his breath and jumps out of bed. The warmth of his body leaving a rush of cold air against my body. He grabs his clothes from off the floor and starts putting them on quickly. Machete snatches the blanket that is hanging half way off the bed and tosses it at me with hard eyes.
“Cover yourself,” his tone demanding and hinted with jealousy. I pull it over myself, but as soon as Gatz walks into the bunker tension rises as his eyes fall upon us both. The smell of sex is in the air, my cheeks are flushed and my hair is a mess. Not to mention Machete’s shirt is inside out. Oh, and I’m naked under this blanket.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Gatz sneers, quickly turning his back to us. He runs a hand through his gelled hair, shaking his head. I look to Machete, nervous of what this means. It’s not the first time Gatz has caught us, will he tell our dirty little secret to the president of his club?
Machete gives me a side-eye before walking out, shutting the door and locking it too.
Chapter 9
Machete
“What the fuck!” Gatz punches my arm as soon as we are out of Raven’s cell. His pretty boy eyes glare at me, his hair that is normally spot-on falling in his eyes. “Getting your dick wet once I could see, but this is escalating dude. What if I had been Zeek or Felix?” he asks with arms stretched wide. He always was the drama queen of the bunch.
“What about it?” I snap.
“You’re getting fucking sloppy,” he mouths, and I scoff. I’m trying my hardest to get her to break, if she would tell me something maybe I could make Zeek see she’s not the enemy. That she’s helping us.
His eyes drop to my mouth and he shakes his head. “Let me guess, her pussy tastes so sweet and innocent you can’t get enough,” he says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. “Pussy doesn’t taste sweet or like fucking candy. It’s salty, wet, and warm. It’s an acquired taste that some men don’t have.” I flick an accusing brow at him.
“You got something to say, brother?” Gatz places his hands on his hips. I can tell I hit a nerve. Lifting my chin, I decide to fucking say what’s been on my mind for a while.
“Are you gay?”
He doesn’t even flinch, he just stares back at me. I don’t really care if he is, but I feel like he feels like he needs to hide it. Why?
“You can tell me, I wouldn’t say anything,” I press. I want him to trust me. Hell, he hasn’t told Zeek about Raven and I so I feel like we’ve reached that point where we can be honest.
Gatz drops his head, tension heavy in his shoulders. “You know if I said yes and Zeek wanted to, he could have me banned from the club, or killed even,” he replies gravely. It’s true, a lot of clubs are old school and haven’t accepted the new age. I know Zeek pretty well, but I’m not going to throw my brother under the bus for something that has nothing to do with the club. Gatz will come out when he’s ready.
“Then don’t say anything,” I reply, not wanting to carry the burden.
“Now that’s over. The club is in trouble, and we need you there,” he changes the subject.
“What kind of trouble?” I ask with concern. He should have said that first.
“Some of the girls saw an SUV scouting the place while everyone was at some charity event and Zeek wants everyone there to check it out now.”
I forgot the charity thing was today. We auctioned off a ride with us downtown to help some kid with disabilities go to Disney Land. We try to help where we can, give back to the community that has helped us and by helping us, I mean look the other fucking way when we’re up to no good.
“Mafia?” I assume.
Gatz shrugs. “Not sure, but it sounds shady as fuck.”
I look at the locked door where Raven is held, nervous to leave her alone. I know our club has changed its ways, but not so long ago, if a fellow member found her they’d have her way with her.
“Don’t worry, I have a good prospect watching out. He’s trustworthy,” he reassures. It’s probably Bishop, he’s a kid that was in a bad way on the streets. We took him in and he’s where he belongs, he has outlaw in his blood. “I’m sure it’s nothing and you can get back to dungeon and dragons with your bitch,” he chuckles, but it’s not funny. Looking down I realize I just thought about her well-being before my club’s. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Flicking my gaze to the cell door I chalk it up to me just being worried of her escaping because I do worry about it. A lot.
She’s my toy, my pet, and it’s my responsibility to keep a close eye on her.
Riding into the city, I follow behind Gatz. I’m not sure what is going on at the club, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the fucking mafia is out headhunting for another one of our girls.
Riding into the small courtyard of the club, I set my feet on the pavement and back my bike into its place next to Gatz. Turning the motor off I set my helmet on the handlebars. It’s a skid lid, so if I have an accident whatever sorry son of a bitch gets stuck with cleaning up my remains can scoop my brains up with my helmet and call it a fucking day. Still, damn thing feels like it weighs twenty pounds in this heat.
“Do you want to buy one?” A man in a trench coat suddenly appears from the dark. Out of instinct, I grab my machete ready to slam it in someone’s throat. The man steps into the light and I find he’s of no threat. Just an old timer looking to make a quick buck. There are tons of them on this damn Strip. I wish our club was located somewhere else because of it.
“Back the fuck off!” Gatz barks, standing from his bike he shoves the panhandler in the shoulder and the man drops his goods in a panic. My eyes fall on a particular necklace that dangles to the side of the others that scattered about the asphalt.
“Wait, how much for that one?” I point to the one that looks like a bat. Gatz raises a brow, halting his shoving the old man.
“Fifty?” The man shrugs, looking at Gatz in question. Opening my wallet, I grab the cash and hand it to him. Gatz bends down and snatches the necklace off the ground inspecting it.
“This ain’t no handmade shit. You steal this?” he flicks a brow at the seller. The man looks down at his fifty bucks. “Doesn’t matter, it’s yours now.” He lifts his chin, colorless eyes locking with mine. You can tell he’s had a hard life and the wrinkles around his face reflects that.
“Get!” Gatz jeers toward the man, and he takes off running.
Gatz shakes his head and drops the necklace into my palm. Pulling it closer I look at it. The charm is a bat clinging to a black shiny pearl. It reminds me of Raven when she talked about the bats. She had excitement in her voice, it made me smile.
“What the hell would you want that for?” He looks at me with a heated stare, and I shoot him one back. The tension building between us, he already knows the answer.
I leave nothing to coincidence or fate, but after Raven just told me her story about bats and this man appeared from nowhere with one, I couldn’t resist. Maybe it will come in handy, who knows.
“Let’s go,” Gatz mutters under his breath. Sliding the necklace into my pocket, I follow him to the club. Once inside, the familiar smell of smoke, perfume from the girls, and beer reminds me of home. God, I miss being here.
Zeek is sitting at the bar nursing a beer with the rest of the brothers when he spots me. I head toward him and tell Tinker, one of our girls to get me a shot of whis
key. We call her Tinker because she looks just like fucking Tinker Bell. Tall, pale, and blonde short hair.
“So what’s going on?” I ask, looking around the club that doesn’t seem to be in any kind of distress to me.
“I don’t know, just got here myself,” Zeek informs, belching before sliding the empty beer bottle across the bar.
“Dolly,” Zeek calls over his shoulder. She’s the main ass candy around our club. You can fuck her and then get back to breaking the law. She’ll also fuck brothers from surrounding clubs if she think’s she’ll find her prince charming to whisk her to the top of any MC club. Maybe if she does less fucking and more of that self-respect thing, she’d have better luck. She’s beautiful and smart, just too easy for my taste.
She struts over in black stripper heels and short leather shorts. Her red top tied behind her neck.
“Hey baby,” she coos, rubbing her long red nails down Zeek’s arm.
“What did you see exactly?” Zeek pulls his arms from her grip, eyeing her with hard eyes. They used to fuck regularly, but then Zeek fell in love with a fucking sheriff and that changed his perspective on getting laid. Fucking taboo pussy seems to be a common thing amongst us outlaws.
“Well, there was a black car out back and some guy wearing a suit jumped in the back seat and they sped off.” She gives a sultry shrug. “It was weird.”
“Was the guy in the club?” I ask, trying to dig more info than that shitty tell all.
“I don’t know, maybe.” She picks at her nails, bored. “If they did they had to come in from the back,” she points her finger over her shoulder before her lusty eyes fall back on Zeek. He turns looking bored and she shifts her gaze to Gatz.
“You want a massage?” she asks him. He raises a brow, rubbing his neck anxiously. I would have never noticed his unease before, but now that I know he’s gay… this is just fucking funny.
“Yeah, Gatz, you want a happy ending? You can go get your dick wet before we inspect the clubhouse for head hunters,” I tease.