“What the fuck?”
I twisted around as Ama dashed past me like a whirlwind. One second she was standing at the bar, talking to her momma, the next, she was rushing past me. I followed her trajectory, wondering what the fuck was happening, and saw the clubwhore next to Keys.
It was his patch-in party. Normally, that meant shit got hot and heavy for a brother. It was a rite of passage that I really didn’t want Ama knowing about. Not considering Saint and I had done it—the rite was we fucked every clubwhore in the house and took three shots of tequila per pussy. By the end of the night, we didn’t want to touch a bitch or liquor for a week, but it was a hell of a laugh.
Because Keys was tied to Ama, and because her daddies would have killed him if he’d even thought about going through with the rite, his patch in party had consisted of a lot of drinking.
A lot.
He was on the sofa, more out of it than awake, and his head was tipped back as he snored, the party forgotten, his newly patched cut completely slipping from his mind.
Being absolutely hammered didn’t stop a sweetbutt though. The vicious, vindictive cunts were all as bad as each other, and I totally applauded Ama as she grabbed the bitch whose hands were on Keys’ junk by the hair and hauled her off her man.
In her skin-tight short shorts and vest, I could see each of her claims on us. With her hair high in a scooped-up bun that reminded me of a ballet dancer, Key’s tat was clearly visible from behind her ear. A keyring loaded with keys, the holes of which were shaped into hearts. It traced down to the side of her neck. My tat, around her arm, a tribal pattern that I was renowned for, curved around her bicep like a snake. From the top where her arm joined her body and down to just before her elbow, the lines were delicate, not densely black, but whenever I looked at it, I knew she bore my finest work.
Only fitting.
Saint’s mark, she wore on her thigh. It was a pair of angel wings wrapped around his name with a halo topping it. Not the most original idea, maybe, but the way she’d designed the wings? Holy shit, it looked like it could take off from her thigh and start flying around the room.
Everyone knew she was ours, more importantly, the sweetbutts knew we were hers.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Natalie?” she snarled at the clubwhore who was squealing about her extensions.
At my side, Dagger and Saint sidled up to me. Saint looked as wrecked as Keys, and I knew I’d be the one driving us back in a club cage tonight because, call me an old goddamn man, but I wanted to sleep in my bed not a random one in the clubhouse.
Dagger was alert, but that didn’t surprise me. He hadn’t been in the Forces like me, but he had the instincts of a killer. That meant never letting your guard down. I knew, like me, he’d probably be able to count the number of times he’d ever gotten drunk.
“I recognize that move,” he said, his head tipping to the side as he watched his daughter slam the sweetbutt into the ground and a cascade of bottles shattered all around them as she knocked over the coffee table.
Lucie, having stepped closer to see the show, laughed, and she hooked her arm through Dagger’s. “You didn’t think I’d fail to show my daughter how to fight, did you? Jesus, Dag, what kind of a mom did you take me for?”
He winced. “Jesus.”
I chuckled. “Of course! I remember. What was that bitch called again?”
“Fucking Jenna. I remember that skank. All over Axe like the whore she was.”
“Only you’d remember her name,” Dagger said dryly.
Saint, leaning into me heavily now, mumbled, “Catfight.”
I shot him a wry look. “Yeah, bro. Catfight.”
“How much has he had to drink?” Lucie asked, amusement lacing her words as she stared down at her son-in-law.
“Too much by the looks of it,” Dagger retorted, sounding less amused.
I cut him a look. “She’s safe.”
“So safe she just started a fight,” Dagger shouted over the noise of the cheers as the brothers finally figured out what was going on.
To the chants of ‘catfight,’ ‘bitchfight,’ and a shit ton of ‘meows,’ I watched my woman whoop clubwhore ass.
“Her form’s awesome,” I said, more to Saint than her daddy who, quite naturally, punched me in the arm. I shrugged. “It is. Look at how she punches.”
Saint mumbled, “I taught her that!”
Lucie grunted. “Didn’t. That was me.”
It was a testament to how much he’d drunk that Saint’s face crumpled up and he leaned forward so he could see her better. “Nope. She fought like a girl.” He sniffed. “I made her fight like a boy.”
Dagger grunted. “Something to be thankful for, I guess.”
“Just not when she’s smacking the shit out of one of the women,” Flame replied, slipping between us and heading into the fight.
“No fair,” Lucie called out. “Natalie was feeling Keys up.”
Flame cut her a look that had her lips curving and her eyes flashing wickedly—didn’t need to know what kind of fucked up message that was to know that Lucie was about ready to pounce on Flame. Not like Ama had Natalia either.
“Ama! What the hell are you doing?” he ground out, detangling his daughter’s fingers from the bitch’s hair.
“She was groping my man, daddy,” Ama hissed, her hand managing to reach around him so she could grab more hair.
Why the hell sweetbutts wore extensions in this club was beyond me. Sweet fuck, talk about giving another woman extra ammunition.
“Since when did you fight with your fists?”
“Since I got me some old men!” she snapped back, shoving her face in Flame’s in a way that told me we’d done way too much good for her confidence.
Deciding to wade in before Ama found herself over her daddy’s knee for a spanking, and not the variety she’d grown to like from me, Saint, and Keys, I hustled over, grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back.
“You staked your claim, baby girl,” I told her, whispering the words in her ear.
“Damn right I did,” she snarled, glowering around the room, daring any clubwhores to look her straight in the eye.
My lips curved at the aggressive gesture, and I shook my head at Flame who actually had an expression on his face for once—surprise.
“What the fuck did you do to my daughter?” he grumbled as I hauled her away from Natalie who was whimpering into another brother’s cut.
“They did nothing, daddy,” she growled. “You taught me to fight for what’s mine. You think I’m gonna let some SLUT,” she hollered, “touch my man? You’re crazy.”
Lucie slipped her arm through Flame’s. “It’s a proud day.”
Flame rolled his eyes as Dagger laughed. “Only you’d be proud that our daughter is a hooligan.”
Lucie grinned as Ama huffed at the condemnation. “Better a hooligan than a wet flannel. You watch, none of these boys will stray. She’ll geld them first.”
“You bet your ass I will,” Ama snarled, and I reached up and rubbed her shoulders, before dipping down and nipping her throat in warning.
“That ass is mine. Don’t be giving it away,” Wolfe rumbled as he waded into the fray. “What have you done now, Lucifer?”
His old lady snorted and raised her hands in all innocence. “Wasn’t me. Was your hell spawn.”
His eyes narrowed at her before he turned to look at the mess Ama had made. There were bits of hair floating in the air, other strands lay against the sofa and floor. The coffee table in front of Keys—who’d slept through it all and was covered in hair too—was smashed, and about two dozen empty beer bottles had managed to crash into the ground as well.
“She’s hellspawn, ain’t she?” he declared proudly, then he ululated the words until every biker in the club roared it too: “Hellspawn!”
24
Ama
Two Years Later
When Keys’ cock tunneled inside my ass, I grunted, bowing my head and pressi
ng it into Saint’s chest as the feeling of thickness overwhelmed me.
All my guys were above average in size, but having them inside my body at the same time felt like a huge fucking ask.
Still… I was working my way up to DVP.
I wasn’t sure when or if that would ever happen, but I’d seen the porn. Had watched it happen. It looked like it might wreck me, but hell, what a ride getting there.
As I sought calm, sought to forget just how thick and full I felt, I found a rhythm with my breathing, and when Keys began to thrust, like he knew I’d reached the point where I could take it without bursting out crying as I’d done the past few times we’d tried this and he’d had to pull out, I released a shocked gasp as my nerve endings came to life.
Whenever we’d done this, he’d ended up having to pull out, but I was determined. So determined to take them both because this feeling of fullness was how my heart felt constantly. Like it was going to burst from the joy of being with the three of them.
My pussy and ass might burst too, but it probably wouldn’t be as romantic.
Feeling Keys’ cock drag against Saint’s was like torment and wonder combined. I couldn’t move from my position. I knew Ink was there, just off to the side, and my mouth watered with the need to taste him, to swallow his release, but for the moment, this was all about me.
All about accepting everything they had to give.
When Saint began shifting his pelvis, rocking up into me, I bit down on the nearest thing to me—his nipple. He released a holler of pain that would have had me laughing at any other time, but it made me realize what I was doing, and I swiftly began sucking on the nub to appease the agony I’d just caused.
When his hands tunneled through my hair, I knew he liked it, and finally, my body adapted. With his touch, with the connection, I felt like I was grounded once more.
Slowly, I moved my head, released his nipple, and straightened up. Leaning all my weight into my hands, I moved so that my body was at an angle, and I eyed the dick that had my mouth watering whenever I saw it.
I’d never expected we’d reach this point where all three guys could be in the same room, on the same bed, with no boxers on. Saint and Keys didn’t have that much of a problem, but Ink had pretty much always taken me alone. Be it in bed while the others dicked around in some part of the house or in the shower—which was one of my fond favorites.
In the two years we’d been together, that was pretty much how it had rolled. I could count on both hands how many times this had happened, but I was hoping this would make these group scenes occur more frequently because I loved them.
I loved being at the center of their universe, adored it with all my being.
Plus, it always exhausted me and that meant for a wonderful night’s sleep, which I’d need considering tomorrow I was breaking ground on the tattoo Keys had been putting off until I was ready to ink him myself.
But now, there was no time for nerves, no space for it and as I reached forward, loosely jacking off Ink’s cock, I stared up at him with wide eyes and whispered, “Take what you need, baby.”
Quickly working up some spit, I watched as his nostrils flared at my words and he grabbed my head, holding my hair tightly. I opened my mouth and closed it around his shaft when he guided himself inside the warm, wet cavern of my mouth.
Quickly tonguing every part of him I could reach, I waited for him to pull back and sucked on the tip. Hard. He grunted, and Keys surprised the hell out of me by thrusting into me quick and deep. It pushed me forward onto Ink’s cock, making me gag a little, but I was used to this. Used to unexpected moves that had my eyes watering—the three of them liked messy blowjobs, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Ink just held onto my hair as Keys fucked me for all three of them. This was where his age came in handy. I swear, Keys took ages to come. Sometimes, he made me sore, but most of the time, he just lasted long enough for me to get off. I mean, I wasn’t made of orgasms, and with his perseverance and his ability to hold out, it usually helped me get off.
As I swallowed around Ink’s dick, I moaned as Saint grabbed my hands so I was flailing above him, relying on Ink’s hold on my hair to keep me upright.
The acute vulnerability took me higher than I could have imagined, and when Keys plunged in a little deeper than before, the orgasm hit me out of the blue.
Whatever he’d done, it set off a wave of ecstasy that had me choking on Ink’s dick and clamping down on Saint’s cock.
As the three of us exploded around one another, all thanks to Keys, I felt the bubble inside me burst and when it happened, I groaned in disgust because I hated this—it always happened with anal. Always made me squirt, and it was gross and icky, even if they seemed to love it.
Keys, realizing what was happening, muttered, “Let her breathe, Ink.”
Instantly, Ink let go, and I swallowed quickly, my mouth still full of his cum, as I groaned long and deep around the bliss that pummeled me along with their thrusting cocks. The pressure inside was intense, even more intense than the fullness of being penetrated by both of them. It made me feel like I was going to implode, and after so recently exploding, that was just inconvenient.
As the pleasure rolled through my veins, decimating my nerve endings, I allowed myself to be rearranged.
Keys hauled me into his arms after he pulled out, and he carried me into the connecting bath. The shower had since been added to with a roll top bath that Saint quickly turned on. Keys held me tightly to him as the cold water morphed into hot, and I clung just as tightly to him as he climbed into the bath with me.
All around me, they moved like a well-oiled team. Ink, I knew, would be changing the sheets, and would join us when he was done. Saint took a quick shower, which was probably awkward as hell considering he had a cast on his leg from a fall at the gym, before returning to the side of the bath. He sat down, propping himself up against the wall as he slid to the floor, and I heard him and Keys talking about his itchy cast and their bikes as I came back to myself.
When the sound of the shower turning on again hit me, I opened my eyes at last and heard Saint say, “There she is.”
I squinted at him. “No fair.”
He grinned. “Can we help it that we’re sex gods?”
I had to snicker, but I turned my face away from him and into the blue-tiled wall as I hid my expression. I always felt acutely shy at these moments, pretty much overwhelmed by what they made me feel.
“Leave her alone,” Ink chided, but I heard the humor in his voice as he toweled off.
I turned back to face him, saw his dick swinging in the breeze, and wondered when this had happened. I couldn’t really give a time when they’d all stopped wearing boxers to bed. They never crossed swords or anything like that, but neither did they cover up anymore.
I guessed it was because we were all at peace with one another, and I loved that. A vein of intimacy had threaded between us, tightening around us until I wasn’t sure where I started and they ended.
This was no longer a family built around me, but around us all.
I sighed at the sight of how beautiful Ink was. He hadn’t had any tats in years, and I was busy working on something in my spare time that would go on his back. It was going to be an anniversary gift to him, but then, I had gifts for Keys and Saint too. Keys knew his design was his momma, but Saint? He didn’t know he was getting a tiger piece. I wasn’t even sure if he liked tigers, but they reminded me of him. Slow to burn, but when enraged? The inferno was swift and deadly.
Quickly swerving my thoughts away from that line of thought because I didn’t have it in me to get horny again, I mumbled, “Can we go to bed yet?”
When they laughed, I was quickly washed up. I loved how tender they were with me. How they did this for me because they knew they’d short-fused every nerve ending in my body.
When Ink hauled me out of the bath, I clung to him as Saint dried me off. Sometimes, I thought I didn’t tell them I loved them enough
, but I showed it. With every kiss, with every touch, I imbued it with my love.
And as Ink lay me on the bed, I cuddled into him, knowing that Saint and Keys would be at my back soon enough.
They always had that.
Would always protect me, keep me safe, cherish me with their love, and it was why I could go to sleep without dreading what would happen.
Why I could close my eyes without fear of the past.
These men were my past, my present, and my future rolled into one.
I’d spend the rest of my life showing them just how grateful I was for that.
And that was a promise.
❖
Ink
“Got a gift for you,” I told her the following day.
She cocked a brow at me as she stopped inking the detail on Keys’ tattoo of his momma. He’d said that he’d wait for her to be good enough, and though she’d been ready about six months ago, she’d waited until now, saying she’d decide when that was.
It was perfection. True perfection. And it wasn’t often I said crap like that. But Jesus, it was a work of art, and I knew I’d have to get some work done by her, not only to feel her claim all the more, but to have the connection of ink, my medium, to her.
“What is it?” she demanded, squinting at me even as she blew out a breath to displace the lock of hair that was stuck to her brow. Keys curled upright, now that she’d stopped inking him, and as he moved his other arm from behind his head, he reached over and aided her in that task.
“Gift. Told ya,” was all I said.
She got to her feet, perfect in her uniform of denim short shorts and a vest top. In two years, I wasn’t sure I’d seen her in anything else… well, except for the day we’d gotten married.
A forty-hour road trip all round and we’d gotten married in Vegas by the King. She’d been in a floaty dress, looking like some kind of angel in the linen fabric that had swirled around her heels as she’d walked toward us. I’d been the one with my name on the certificate, but Keys and Saint had been at the altar with me and they’d been our witnesses.
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