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Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2)

Page 2

by B. B. Blaque


  The cute redhead with blue eyes and a sprinkle of freckles had been left at the orphanage after me. She was younger, and I immediately became her protector and teased her by callin’ her Gingersnap and Snaps because of her hair. We got really close while we were comin’ up, and it seemed like we were both gonna continue on our spiritual paths. Once Sister Antoinette taught me about how good sex could be, though, I knew I wanted Gingersnap. I also knew she was set on becomin’ a nun and I didn’t wanna fuck that up for her.

  Too little too late.

  Father Giovanni was someone I’d never be—I liked fuckin’ too much. She was still on the way to a cloistered life in a convent and the big one—celibacy. I’d decided I couldn’t do either, but my life depended on bein’ in the church to survive and there were enough willin’, fledgling nuns to keep my teenage hormones satisfied. Since I couldn’t have Fiona, I started jerkin’ off to her like crazy and my cock was always hard and ready—I beat off to her a fuckin’ lot. My fantasies were all about her and what it’d be like to be buried inside that innocent snatch with my unholy cock. That was it—I started to obsess about her in every nun and wanna-be I fucked. If they knew how many of them I’d had, it woulda sent most of us on a one-way trip to Hell. There weren’t enough times I coulda said the rosary or Hail Mary to wipe it clean. I was good with that, and even better after bein’ gone for so long. I still wasn’t good with the night I busted Gingersnap’s cherry wide open.

  She’d come to me and begged me to hear her confession. I wasn’t a priest, but that didn’t stop me from listenin’ to her from the safety of the other side of the booth. When she told me she’d been havin’ lustful thoughts and had touched that sweet pussy, thinkin’ about sinnin’ with a boy she liked—I knew she’d heard the stories about me. My cock was instantly hard and overrode any pure thoughts I might’ve been able to have about her. Fiona told me she wanted to sin so badly with this boy that she couldn’t concentrate when she saw him. I woulda taken her right there in that booth, but I didn’t. I didn’t wanna put that on her, but I had every intention of puttin’ it in her. My list of sins could’ve stretched all the way to Manhattan and one more wouldn’t make or break me—even if it was that.

  I waited until she was asleep and snuck into her room. She looked peaceful, but I knew after all she’d said that she was dreamin’ about me. I loosened my pants to release my cock and when I slipped in next to her, it brushed against her. I could come right now, but I need way more.

  I slid a hand under her gown and ran it up a thigh—I can still hear my panting breath in my head. I need her. Fuck purity. When I got to the elastic on her panties, I hooked a finger in and gently started to roll them down. I wanted to see every inch of her, but my cock grazed her body and I pulled her back against it. Her ass was warm and firm and so soft. She didn’t feel like the others. She was always better than any of them.

  Still is.

  My hand snaked down between her legs and I took my time runnin’ my fingers over the white cotton panties they all wore. She wasn’t wakin’ up and I could’ve just stroked her the entire night, but it was too risky and I needed all of her. I spread her thighs just enough to slide a finger down the middle of her soft pussy.

  She’s already wet!

  Those lustful thoughts put her to sleep.

  Just one time and she’ll be tarnished. We can leave together.

  I rocked her over, pushed up the gown, and pulled those panties to sit right below her ass. When I leaned in to whisper, I reached a hand around and covered her mouth. She started to wiggle and a muffled no blew against my palm.

  Fuck. I’m havin’ you, no matter what.

  “Shh . . . it’s me. Be quiet or they’ll hear.”

  She wasn’t the first virgin I’d had, so I knew what to do. I shoved my cock inside that wet hole and thrust up hard enough to bust her cherry. Then I was still. She gasped and started whimperin’ under my fingers. “I heard your confession . . . this is what you’ve been sinnin' about. Say no . . . it’s okay . . . I’m gonna keep goin’ . . . you told me you want it . . . this will absolve you of all the guilt you’ll feel.”

  Nothin’ will absolve me now.

  I knew how much she wanted it, or maybe just thought she did. It was already too late to question. That burden wasn’t hers since she cried while I took it.

  She always cries and I always take it.

  Wanting her as bad as I did, there was no way I could hold out for long. I didn’t fuck her hard—just busted that cherry and mostly held myself inside of her. I wanted to feel that pussy wrappin’ my cock and be as close to her as I could. I started to slide in and out slowly to enjoy every inch and every second I was able to have her. When I lifted my hand away, that’s when the burden became ours to share.

  “Giovanni . . . I love you. I want to run away and be together.”

  It was the smallest whisper, but it was all I needed. I slammed in a couple times, pulled out, and came all over her ass. When I slid those panties back up, I whispered, “The penance for your impurity is to wear these panties all day tomorrow and think about your actions. Think about your sins and what you want to do about them.”

  I stood and pulled my pants up and quietly told her I loved her too. It was the truth and she’s the only chick I’ve ever loved. When I went back to bed, her blood was still coatin’ my cock and that was enough to make me wanna beat off and come again. More than once.

  I thought it was only a matter of time before we’d walk out the doors and be together. I kept bangin’ her, and the longer it took for her to choose me over the church, the more I needed to punish her for her sins.

  She always begged for it, and after all the time apart, I still get off on givin’ it to her. Every time she shows up and drops to confess at my boots, I do my best to punish the sin outta her.

  Maybe I don’t feel so bad.

  When I can’t have her, I use our chicks to satisfy my need to fuck and punish her. It never gets old and it isn’t every time I fuck a chick, but when I do, it’s always the best. This time, after my trip, it would far from the best.

  “Candy, baby . . . why don’t you go sit in my office. Gotta talk some club business and I’ll be up.” I poured myself a couple drinks from the bottle she brought over. “Thanks for the welcome home, kid. Don’t expect much outta my ass tonight. I’m fried.”

  She kissed me quick and smiled. “Okie dokie, Crucifix! Do you mind if I watch TV up there? Pretty please . . . with Candy on top?”

  I laughed. “Knock yourself out. Get comfortable and get rid of the outfit before I come back. It could be a while.”

  It was too late. Gingersnap was weaslin’ her way into my head.

  The guys were hangin’ at the bar and I walked toward them as Rock Candy spun and went to the stairs to my office. I wasn’t sure if I was even gonna feel up to gettin’ a blowjob. My head wanted it, but the rest of me wasn’t 100% on board.

  2

  Heaven and Hell

  As soon as I sat down, Casket shoved a drink in front of me. He’d wanted to hook up with us out in L.A., but it wasn’t in the cards. We’d been so fuckin’ busy the whole time and tryin’ to get him up to speed woulda been more trouble than it was worth.

  “Well . . . how was it out there?” He knocked his shot glass against mine. “I still can’t get over it . . . FOCUS is an actual pornstar . . . I never thought I’d see the day. How the fuck is all that shit goin’ anyway? Are you doin’ ‘em too or what?”

  I’d considered doin’ the hired dick thing, but realized fast that I like bein’ on the fringes and callin’ the shots. I’m used to bein’ in control and didn’t want some fuckface tellin’ me what to do with my own cock. I’d been puttin’ it to work with a bunch of pornstars in our talent pool off camera, and that was enough to keep me occupied and satisfied.

  Until I walked in to see Rock Candy in a nun outfit. Fuck. Fi, get outta my head.

  “Nah, not me, brother. Not my thing. FOCUS is rockin’ shit, th
ough. I gotta say I’m kinda proud of that hillbilly. He does a damn good job at keepin’ up with Nixx and that’s not an easy job. I know that shit firsthand.” I lit a smoke and looked around the place. I was happy to be home. I wish I wouldn’t have walked into Rattler’s big mouth and then a nun—it wouldn’t have been home without that crap, though. “The company is really takin’ off and with that award shit we got back in January, it’s kicked us into high gear. It’s crazy to think about. The money comin’ in is great, but ya gotta keep producin’ . . . constantly . . . then ya gotta wait for the money from the distributors. Once it started rollin’, we were golden. I got no complaints.”

  Royal Bastards Video was gettin’ a full head of steam and I hoped FOCUS would get back to the City soon. Most of the shit could be taken care of from anywhere except the shootin’ part, and they didn’t really need us to do that. There had been somethin’ goin’ on in Florida and The Bishop asked FOCUS to help with some shit for Redhook’s kid, Colt. It was a no-brainer that he’d do it, if for no other reason than we needed to get Brooklyn sewn up for the Bastards and the old man wouldn’t just let it go without a price.

  “Oh . . . Crucifix, some chick called for you a bunch of times.” Froot Loops bounced over like he was doin’ some of our Five Points meth. He needed to reel it in before he got outta control. I knew all too well that you could get totally spun in a snap and it wasn’t an easy mistress to walk away from. If it hadn’t been for the Bastards I don’t know if I ever coulda. “She said she had your number, but kept callin’ here. Wouldn’t say what it was about.”

  Snaps.

  Why won’t you leave me alone or be my ol’ lady?

  Take your pick, but fuckin’ pick already, for fuck’s sake.

  They all knew about Gingersnap, but most had never seen her. She didn’t come to the Mounds when it was open. I’d take her to the clubhouse when everyone else was busy, or she’d pop up at the bar after closin’ time. The problem was, she always just popped up. Somethin’ would make her start thinkin’ about me—us—and she’d start to feel guilty.

  Sometimes it was for gettin’ off one too many times while thinkin’ of me fuckin’ her hard in the ass and practically rapin’ her. She loved it when I just fuckin’ took it—like that first time. Near rape made it okay for her to be guiltless and get what she wanted at the same time. It was sort of my fault for tryin’ to protect her the night I snuck into her bed. Playin’ that game was a surefire explosion for me. We’d been doin’ it so long that it was woven all up in my fucked-up kink.

  Kink.

  Man, you are a straight up dom. You need to control that bitch for life.

  Other times, it was just for thinkin’ about breakin’ her vows to spend her life with me. Even though comin’ to me for confession and penance seemed way the fuck offbase, it was what she did. I thought it was just a good excuse on her part. If I banged her and punished her while we were doin’ it—and then more when we were done because we did it—somehow shit was justified in her head. At the end of the day, it was all about her bein’ fucked up because she craves and loves me and can’t help the carnal desires that come with that need. Give into it. You’ll feel better, trust me.

  Fuck if I could understand why she didn’t just leave that fuckin’ habit behind and come and be my ol’ lady. It’s what she wanted. She was lucky I didn’t show up at mass one day—put her over my shoulder, carry her out kickin’, and strap her to the back of my bike. That thought—or shit like it—had crossed my mind too many times over the years. I’d even tried tyin’ her up to the St. Andrew’s Cross and not lettin’ her off the damn thing. It lasted a few hours and finally I gave in and told her to get out. She was all fucked up by us, but she wasn’t the only one. No one would ever believe a biker and a damned nun for Chrissakes. It sounds like the beginning of a joke. It was no laughin’ matter. That shit is painful and sometimes I just get full to my eyes with it.

  Looks like I’m not gettin’ her outta my head even without the fuckin’ outfit.

  Is it a sign?

  “Yeah . . . I know who it is. It can only be Gingersnap . . . ya know the one I’m talkin’ about. Anyone else woulda come into the club or called my cell.”

  Froot Loops was shiftin’ back and forth and started to laugh. “Man, is that the fuckin’ nun chick? You are one sick bastard with that shit, brother. At least one of you is goin’ to Hell.”

  I gave him the finger and realized I wasn’t gonna be gettin’ my dick sucked. My mood had gone from exhausted but happy to the Fiona Zone. My food was sittin’ at the corner of the bar and a bite of the slice would probably be all I had until the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep ‘cause I was thinkin’ about her.

  “Hey, I’m toast . . . Candy’s in my office, so I’m gonna go crash out in the champagne room for now. One of you guys do me a favor and raincheck her for me. I don’t even wanna walk up the stairs or deal with her. A lot on my mind and I need to sleep it off.”

  Casket nudged my arm. “The nun? Don’t let it twist ya like last time. That bitch needs to pray or say the rosary or somethin’ instead of fuckin’ with you all the time. She leaves you with an open wound every time, and just when it’s startin’ to heal, she comes back and rips the scab off. Not cool. You were kinda psycho the last time. Cut her the fuck off.”

  “Yeah. Ya think? It might be a little bit about her.” I crushed out my smoke, did a shot, and stood to walk to the back. “I didn’t go full on psycho . . . okay, maybe a little bit. I don’t wanna get into it. Sleep. I’m out.”

  Casket wasn’t wrong. I went total stalker and was outta control in every other area of my life. She was bad news for me, but I couldn’t seem to stop lettin’ her pop back into my life any more than she could stop herself. It was a vicious fuckin’ cycle that could only end two ways. Either she’d be my ol’ lady or I had to stop it cold, which seemed completely impossible. Which is how the stalkin’ shit happened. Sometimes ya just gotta take the bitch and put her where she needs to be and that takes figurin’ shit out.

  I didn’t wanna be with any of the chicks, but I was still sorta horny and alone in the champagne room. I rubbed my cock through my jeans to the thoughts of the sweet redhead I should never have taken and couldn’t stop givin’ in to. Who won’t stop comin’ to me.

  The long black robes had been replaced by strippers in sexy vinyl costumes or school girl outfits that were beyond sinful. The fantasies were always the same—Fiona takin’ me as hard and merciless as I could give and droppin’ to her knees to take every drop of my sacrilegious communion wine. The penance was always from the moment we started until we were done. We both struggled with it in some way, but it never stopped us. My fuckin’ luck, she always goes back to the fuckin’ church.

  Yeah, she has to make a choice.

  The only other way would be if someone ends up dead.

  3

  Cry Little Sister

  I rolled around on the couches in the champagne room and was barely sleepin’. We were closed, so I sat at the bar for a while tryin’ to keep myself from doin’ a ride by. I won’t see her. It’s probably best. My mood wouldn’t make it good.

  I’d finally gone up to my office and was listenin’ to the music crankin’ from downstairs when the buzzer sounded. I woulda missed it if there hadn’t been a pause on the playlist. I shoved back from the desk and grumbled on the way to the monitors to see what it was. It coulda been one of the guys who forgot his keys or needed to crash. It coulda been some drunk who left his wife’s umbrella under the benches in the champagne room. It coulda been—but it wasn’t.

  Oh, for Chrissakes! Why now?

  I stomped down the stairs and went through the side door to the enclosed alley. Five o’clock in the morning—I need this shit now, why? What’s the matter with a normal time of day like midnight?

  I pulled the cord on my keys and picked through them until I found the one to unlock the gate. I took a deep breath when I cracked it open.

  “Cruc
ifix . . . please don’t turn me away. You know I had to see you . . . I need to confess and you’re the only one who can take it.”

  Gingersnap.

  I stepped back and let her walk in. “Lemme guess . . . you’ve been a really bad girl and you need to repent and be punished for your sins, yadda-yadda-ya . . . sound about right?”

  Bitch! Do you have any idea what this does to me?

  Before my frustration could twist my balls, she grabbed my hand and shoved it under the gown of her habit. Oh, Lord help me.

  When I cupped her bare pussy, I started to swallow my anger and rock my wrist down, slidin’ a couple fingers back toward her ass. The base of my palm pressed into her clit hard, and with every movement she shuddered and sighed. My dick was wakin’ up more with each wave of her body.

  “You’re fuckin’ soaked . . . what a dirty, filthy sinner you are.”

  I pushed her against the gate and my other hand dipped beneath the gown and started touchin’ her hot flesh. I’ve missed you, bitch. When I got to a nipple, I pinched hard and she sucked in a breath. That’s it, baby. Wince for me.

  My cock was thumpin’ hard, imaginin’ what musta possessed her to show up so late, bare as a baby’s ass under the habit.

  One of these days I’m gonna tell you to fuck off.

  Maybe tonight.

  Sure you are.

  “Did you ride the subway all the way from Brooklyn to see me like this . . . where anyone could’ve seen you and tried to find out exactly what was hidden under your habit?” My whiskey breath whispered across her skin and into an ear as my hand kept rockin’. I squeezed the nipple again and she stood on her tiptoes. “Oh, sister . . . you chased my cock all the way here like a fuckin’ bloodhound . . . I coulda sent you back with this wet pussy . . . so, what is it you have to confess for?”

  I couldn’t have planned it better—“Cry Little Sister” from Lost Boys came on inside the bar. The song always made me think of her and I played it regularly when I fucked one of our girls. It wasn’t loud out in the alley, but it was loud enough to fuel me. I started to unfasten my jeans and snapped for her to kneel.

 

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