by E. C. Land
I find it’s not a message from my woman, but a text from some unknown number. Frowning, I open it to see what they say. The first thing to pop up has my blood boiling in rage. There’re three pictures—two of them are of my woman with Grant, the other is with me.
It’s bad enough I know she’s been with the fucker. I don’t need it shoved in my face by having the visuals sent to me. Another text comes in following the pictures.
Unknown Number: Shame if these were to get out.
Unknown Number: Come and find me if you can. She knew better, and so did you.
What the hell is this person talking about? Who is this person?
For that matter, how the hell did they get these pictures?
“You good brother?” Bruiser asks, seeing the way I’m clutching my phone in my hands.
“I gotta go talk to Cy real quick,” I growl, sliding off the stool.
Making my way in the direction of where our rooms are, I bang on Cy’s, not wanting to barge into his room only to see him fuckin’ one or two of the slobber-crawlers. I’d seen him earlier heading off with one on either side of him as he guided them to his room.
This is a typical scenario for him. Always finding him a piece whenever he can.
“What?” Cy demands as he throws open his door in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans. He doesn’t give a damn if the women behind him are covered or not.
“Need you to look into a text I just received,” I smirk, seeing his eyes flare with annoyance for disturbing him for this reason.
“Can’t it wait?” he huffs and runs a hand through his hair.
“Nope, not unless you wanna have some sick fucker toying with your cousin,” I state and hold my phone up for him to take a look. “Don’t look at the pictures.”
“Shit, what the hell’s going on?” he grinds out, and I shake my head to answer his question, because I sure as fuck don’t know. “Fine, give me a minute to kick these two out of my room, then come back. I’ll take a look, see if I can’t find anything else.”
“You do that. I’m going to go talk to Hammer.” I nod. “See if we can’t get a few guys over to Rebel’s and find the damn cameras.”
“Damn, I definitely don’t wanna see the pictures then.” Cy shudders and grimaces.
“Nope,” I say, turning on my heel to head for Hammer’s office. I’m nearly there when Bruiser yells out my name. Furrowing my brow, I make my way back to the main room to find Rebel standing next to Bruiser, looking scared out of her mind.
Closing the distance between the two of us. “What’s wrong?” I demand, pulling Rebel into my arms.
“I—I think someone is stalking me,” she utters, tears welling in her eyes.
Fuck me. Did they send the same thing to her?
“Why do you think that, Duchess?” I ask, wanting to see what she’s going to say.
Rebel pulls back enough for her to tilt her head back to lock gazes with mine. “Because I received a note on my car not too long ago, and then today. I didn’t just receive a letter in the mail—there was an email with photos attached.” She looks completely freaked out right now as she goes on to tell me about the pictures.
I don’t like the thought of those pictures. They piss me off more than I like to admit. I know she’s mine now, but it doesn’t make it easier knowing she’s been with Grant. I’ll just have to figure out a way to get the image of the two of them out of my head, and I know the perfect way of doing so.
But first, I need to make sure she’s safe.
Chapter Eleven
Rebel
Sitting in the middle of Rogue’s bed in his room at the clubhouse, my mind threatens to send me into another panic attack.
After I’d told Rogue about my thoughts of having a stalker, he agreed with me. Then went on to inform me of the text he’d received not long before I got here.
I’m freaking out that not only was someone able to get pictures of the two of us, but how long have they been following me?
Rogue and a few of the other guys left after he’d helped me to his room. I’ve been in here ever since, not wanting to go anywhere or see anyone. That doesn’t mean Avery, Willow, or CJ didn’t come into visit with me and make sure I’m okay.
When Rogue had left, he didn’t tell me where he’s going. I’m pretty sure of where he went, though.
My house.
It’s been nearly four hours since then, and I’m nervous as all get out as to what’s taking so long. Did they find something else? Thinking of the image of Rogue and me, it had to have been taken from somewhere in my room.
I shudder at the thought of someone being in my house, let alone in my room. But how did this person get pictures of Grant and me? Those were taken in Grant’s private room at the club—his brother Granger owns the club. It’s a club for our kinda scene and highly guarded. Not just anyone could get in. Sure, they can get into the part of the club for dancing, though that’s all. How was this person able to take those pictures?
I’m tempted to call Grant and tell him about them. Then again, I think Rogue might flip his lid if he found out. I’m pretty sure seeing the pictures he’d received pissed him off royally. Honestly, I admit to being surprised he even spoke to me afterward.
Sighing, I pull my legs up tighter to my chest. I wrap my arms around them and press my head to one of my kneecaps. I wish Rogue would hurry and come back. I’m going insane with my own thoughts in here.
As if hearing my wish, Rogue’s door opens and the man himself steps inside. I jump off the bed—launching myself into his arms. Rogue catches me with ease, holding me against his harder body.
I bury my head against his chest. “Is everything okay?” I ask, not looking up to meet his gaze, but I can feel how tense he is.
“Yeah, everything’s good now. We’re gonna stay here tonight, though,” Rogue states and places his hands on my waist as he walks me backward.
I finally lift my head up and meet his gaze. “What did you find?”
“Not talking about it now, Duchess. I have other shit to deal with first.” Rogue’s hands at my waist clench my shirt and start pulling it up, exposing bare skin.
I swallow nervously. We haven’t been together in ten years except for that one time two months ago before he’d nearly been killed.
“Rogue,” I whisper, unsure if this is something we should be doing right now. “Maybe we should talk first.”
“Quiet Rebel,” he commands, his eyes darker than usual. Rogue strips the shirt completely from my body and takes a step away. “Remove the rest of your clothes.”
Nodding, I do as he commands. I’m surprised at the fact my hands aren’t shaking due to my nervousness. Slowly, I slip out of my pants and step out of them. Next, I reach between my breasts to unclip my strapless black lacy bra, letting it fall to the floor. My hands then move to slide under the band of the matching lacy thong and slide it down my thighs. I step out of them and hold my breath as I wait to see what Rogue will do next.
Rogue seems to appraise my body, walks over to the dresser, empties his pockets, and toes off his boots. When he comes back in my direction, he doesn’t touch me. Instead, he removes his shirt and sits on the edge of the bed.
Licking my lips in anticipation, I wait for him to tell me what he wants me to do next. Not even with Grant have I simply waited. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him lean over and pull out the bottom drawer of his nightstand. My eyes widen at the sight of the packages Rogue sets on the table.
A shiver of what’s to come shoots through my body straight to my core.
Rogue stands, holding one of the items in his hands. He comes to stand back in front of me and lifts it up for me to see it. It’s a vibrant red silk rope. “You remember the safe word I gave you years ago? Or do you need a refresher?”
Oh, I remember it.
“Yes, I know my safe word,” I say, breathy-like.
“Yes, what?” he narrows his eyes on me.
Swallowing, I cast my eyes dow
n to the rope in his hands. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl, now tell me what it is,” he demands, stepping closer.
“Wolf,” I whisper. It’s not only the safe word he’d given me. It’s also his last name. A name I had thought I’d one day have years ago.
“Remember what you’re supposed to do with it?”
I nod and tilt my head back to meet his eye. “One time to gain your attention. Two if I’m uncomfortable. Three for stopping altogether.”
Rogue rewards me by leaning down and pressing his lips to mine for a brief kiss that leaves me wanting more.
Pulling back, he nods to the bed. “I want you in the center of the bed on your knees.”
“Yes, sir.” I turn and climb into his bed.
Rogue comes to sit on the bed next to me, and without a word, he starts to wrap the rope around my body. His fingers grazing along my skin with each loop. By the time he’s done, my hands are bound behind my back and my breasts are bound tightly, but not enough to hurt.
Rogue leans back to assess his work and nods. He then turns me until I’m face down on the bed, my ass angled upward. “Now for your punishment,” he announces, running his fingertips against my rear.
I gasp at the sharpness of his hand coming down on one ass cheek then the other. He smooths them, then relieves the sting of the spanking. Rogue repeats this motion several times in silence until he finally growls. “Do you know what it does to me thinking about you with another man?”
“N–no, sir,” I pant, waiting to see what he does next.
“I never wanted to see that image of you with him. But there it was. You with another man, worst of all a man I know and respect.” Rogue’s voice is laced with anger, though his touch doesn’t change. He’s in control, and I know he’d never hurt me.
Rogue’s hand leaves my rear, and I turn my head around to look in his direction. Rogue’s eyes meet mine and my lips part slightly at the lust shimmering in his as he reaches onto the nightstand.
“Tonight, I’m going to make sure you never think of him being inside you again,” he states and holds up a bandana. “You’re going to know who owns this beautiful body.”
Covering my eyes, he caresses my skin with the lightest of touches and kisses that drive me crazy with need.
Rogue’s hands come back to my ass and he spanks me once more, causing me to moan from the sting of the impact, but it quickly turns to pleasure. His fingers then slide through the crevice to touch me in the one spot no one, and I mean no one, has ever touched.
“Has anyone been here before, Duchess?” he asks, massaging my opening with a cool liquid.
“No, sir,” I whimper, needing more than simple touches. I need everything. My body is humming in a way it’s never done before.
“Good girl,” he says, pressing a finger into my tightness. “Such a pretty sight.”
Oh, my God, the raspy tone his voice takes is nearly enough to make me beg him to fuck me. But I know if I do that, he’d only prolong taking me.
Rogue pulls his finger from my depths. Something other than his finger presses at my back entrance and slides inside me. It stretches me the deeper he pushes it. “This is your plug, Duchess. I won’t be able to fuck you here yet. Not until I know you’re ready for me, but this will get you ready.”
Without my sight, I’m stuck with only the sensations he’s giving me, and those are heightened at each and every touch he gives me.
Running his fingers away from the plug he’s locked in place, Rogue cups my pussy. “Hmm, drenched for me already, Rebel. You want my cock?”
“Yes, sir,” I moan as he slips a finger into my entrance.
“Are you sure you want my cock and not someone else’s?” he asks, withdrawing his fingers and pulling away from me altogether.
“Yes, sir. Please, I need you,” I pant.
I find myself rolled to my back. A pillow is wedged underneath me to keep the pressure off my hands tied behind my back, so I’m not uncomfortable.
Rogue’s breath at my entrance sends me skyrocketing. I could come just from him teasing me right now. The feel of his tongue swiping through my slit has me panting for more. Rogue must sense my need as he delves into my pussy, devouring it with his mouth. I’m on the verge when he pulls away, drawing a whimper of protest from my lips.
“Who owns your body, Duchess?” he demands gruffly.
“Y-you, sir,” I answer him without hesitation. “You’ve always owned me.” It’s the truth and I can’t deny it. No matter what, Rogue has always been the one to draw such a sensation out of me. Not even with Grant have I felt such a reaction.
“That’s right, Rebel,” Rogue says, spreading my thighs wider as he moves between them. His cock presses into my entrance, and ever so slowly, he sinks in. By the time he’s fully seated within my depths, my body is shaking with the need to come.
Rogue pulls back only to slam forward and start a pace that has me begging to come. When he finally sends me over the edge, I barely start coming down from it before Rogue has me climaxing again. By the time he joins me, I’m screaming out my pleasure, unable to stop myself even if I’d wanted to. I’ve lost all sense in anything else besides this man, and I don’t want it to end.
Slowly I come down from my blissful orgasm feeling exhausted. Rogue slips out of me and groans as he does so. My blindfold is removed from my eyes and I blink against the dull lighting in the room.
I meet his gaze as he tenderly takes care of me, removing the plug from my rear and unties my bindings. When he’s done, Rogue scoops me up into his arms and carries me into the attached bathroom. I’m grateful his room has a bathroom.
I know the officers of the club all have their own bathrooms while others have to share.
Rogue sits me on the counter and starts the shower. Once it’s warm enough to his liking, he comes back and picks me up into his arms.
Inside the shower, Rogue tenderly places me on my feet and starts cleaning me up without a word. I remember him doing this years ago. He never talks while he makes sure he took care of me. Only when he is finished does he speak.
Finishing with the soap, Rogue tips my head back, so he’s able to brush his lips against mine. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, meeting his eyes.
“I fuckin’ love you, you know,” he rasps, “never stopped loving you.”
My heart races in my chest at his words. The very words I’d longed to hear for the last ten years.
“I never stopped loving you either.” Tears prick at my eyes, and I slide my hands over his shoulders.
“Good, cause I’m not ever letting you go again,” he declares, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.
I smile, feeling the same way. I don’t think I could go back to living a life without him in it. He’s always been the one to hold my heart.
If he were to leave me again, I wouldn’t be able to survive it. Not when I would lose the one person who truly means everything to me.
Chapter Twelve
Rogue
How the hell has an entire week passed since both Rebel and I received the pictures.
The weekend flew past far too quickly for my liking. After taking Rebel the way I did Friday night, I spent the rest of the weekend lavishing her body. Showing her just how much she means to me in every way possible.
Saturday morning, I did end up telling her that we found a camera in her bedroom. Cy’s working on finding out if he can trace the camera back to who it belongs to. Friday before coming back to the clubhouse, I’d gone to see Grant. Showed him the pictures, and to say he’d been pissed is an understatement. He said he’d check Granger’s club as well as his place. No one should’ve had access to his room at the club to snap those pictures.
As much as I respect the man, it doesn’t take away from my need to erase the image of him and my woman from my mind.
After talking to Rebel and informing her about the camera in her bedroom, I reassured her that they’ve all been removed fro
m her house. She still didn’t want to go home. Not until last Sunday, after Cy upgraded her security system.
The week went by with Rebel stressing out over a court case she’s got coming up next week. I get she can’t talk about it due to confidentiality and all that shit, but still, I hate how tense she’s getting.
I know my woman loves her job and is passionate about her work. I just don’t want to see her ending up burning herself out. It’s why I’d made sure her receptionist looks out for her. Alanna makes sure that Rebel’s schedule isn’t overbooked and she has time to breathe.
Alanna tries to keep Rebel from bringing work home.
Thankfully, Rebel has the weekend to relax and have some fun. Today we’re heading to the clubhouse for a family BBQ. Tonight will be a different story once the kids have been taken to their respective rooms.
If it weren’t for the bedrooms being soundproof, I knew the party wouldn’t be as rowdy as I know it will be.
Sitting at the counter in the kitchen of what is now Rebel’s and my home, I sip at my coffee, watching as she sways around the kitchen. With her only in one of my shirts, it takes everything in me not to bend her over the counter—again—and sink into her.
This morning, I’d woke her up with my mouth between her legs then fucked her sweetly. After we had showered and got cleaned up, we went into the kitchen together, and while watching her start preparing breakfast, I ended up fucking her against the counter. That was not even fifteen minutes ago.
When it comes to Rebel, I’m constantly hard for her—completely insatiable. She can easily be sitting next to me, and I want to be seated inside her tight pussy.
Over the last week, I’ve taken her nearly every chance I could. We have ten years to make up for, and two nights ago, we broke the sex bench in. Rebel had explained she’s never used it before and didn’t think she’d ever use it. I am more than happy to be the one she experiences it with.
“Xander, can you open this for me?” Rebel asks, turning and holding out a jar.