Reign (The Henchmen MC Book 1)

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Reign (The Henchmen MC Book 1) Page 12

by Jessica Gadziala


  And then he did.

  My moans became a string of curses, of pleads, of cries of his name.

  Then my sounds got caught and his hand went from the back of my neck to the front, pressing down on my throat hard, cutting off my air supply as the orgasm wracked it's way through my body, the pulsations so strong they were almost painful. His hand loosened slightly and I screamed out his name.

  Yes. Screamed.

  I was too far gone to care.

  His cock slammed forward hard. Burying deep as his body jerked. “Fuck,” he growled, crushing his arm around my belly.

  I came down slowly, all my senses seeming dulled.

  Holy shit.

  Holy. Shit.

  I thought I knew a thing or two about orgasms. I'd had my fair share over the years. By the select few men I dated. By my own hand. By vibrators. But nothing had ever felt like that. Like it tore me apart. Like it put me back together.

  I heard the crickets chirp. The wind blew. And I was suddenly acutely aware that I was standing in the middle of a biker compound with my pants down around my ankles. I felt myself tense and Reign chuckled, leaning forward and biting into my earlobe before pulling out of me. He went down on his knees, grabbing my pants and panties and pulling them back upward, kissing my ass cheek before it disappeared under the material.

  “Turn around,” he said when I didn't immediately go to do so.

  I took a shaky breath and turned, not entirely trusting my legs to keep me upright. I sank my hips back against the wall, wincing a bit at the already tender sensation between my thighs.

  “Shit,” he said, his eyes getting worried.

  “What?” I asked, eyes going wide.

  His hand went upward, stroking my hair back behind my ear before trailing a finger down the side of my face. Which suddenly hurt. His finger came away with a slight hint of red. “You alright?” he asked.

  My hand went up automatically, touching the small cut on my temple from being pressed against the wall. I looked up at his worried eyes. And I couldn't help it.

  I laughed.

  His brow raised, watching me. “Summer...”

  “Oh, don't 'Summer' me in that tone,” I smiled. “I'm fine. This is my first sex-related injury,” I declared, finding myself laughing again.

  Reign's eyes lightened and his lip started twitching. “You've been missing out,” he declared.

  I found myself nodding, my head slipping to the side slightly, my lashes fluttering. Flirting. I was fucking flirting with the man. What was going on with me? “You gonna help me make up for lost time?”

  The twitching turned to a smirk. His hand reached out, pressing between my legs. “Sore yet?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “Mission accomplished,” he said in all his satisfied male pride. “Tell you what. Tomorrow morning, I wake up to you sucking me off... I'll happily see how many different ways we can mark you up. Sound good?”

  It did. It sounded good.

  And I was pretty sure that was not normal.

  But I didn't care.

  “Sounds good,” I agreed, smiling.

  “Good. But now... I have some business to take care of,” he said carefully, as if cautious to bring up the topic of the man cuffed to a chair a few yards away.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice a little orgasm-cheery.

  “You want me to walk you back...” he started.

  “I think I can find my way,” I said, pushing off the wall, grabbing the back of his neck and hauling toward me for a kiss. Which he gave me. Happily.

  I stepped into the doorway of the compound. “See you in the morning,” I said, my voice full of innuendo.

  “Yeah babe,” he said, giving me an odd look.

  “Have fun,” I added.

  And then he gave me a really odd look. Followed by a small smirk. “Okay.”

  Nineteen

  Reign

  Have fun? Have fun?

  That was all I could think of as I made my way back to the shed.

  She told me to have fun while I... killed a man? Granted, he was a low life piece of shit, but still.

  Fuck.

  Apparently I really underestimated her.

  I really had expected her to break when she walked into that shed. To look at me with tears on her lashes. To turn and run. Anything. Literally anything but watch the rage overtake her perfect features for a long minute before she just fucking... flew at him.

  My eyes went straight to Cash who was grinning his fucking ass off, shaking his head. Then to Wolf who had a brow raised, his lips pursed slightly, nodding his head at her.

  They liked her.

  That meant something to me.

  Why that meant something to me was completely fucking beyond me. But it did.

  I was going to let her go apeshit on the man until she ran through her shit. She earned that right. She wasn't given a reprieve. Why should he get one? But Cash had cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. “She's gonna hurt herself,” he said quietly.

  And he was right. The way she was going at it, throwing her whole weight into every punch, she was going to end up breaking her hands. So I had to pull her off. Regrettably. But I planned to make up for it later.

  I was absolutely going to have some fucking fun with the shithead.

  I was just completely floored that she told me to.

  I was so damn wrong about her.

  I walked back into the shed to find Wolf already getting started without me. Cash had some blood on his hands as well.

  “Get anything?” I asked, leaning back, watching the show. It had too long since I let any of them shed some blood. They were due.

  “Just that they want her back.”

  “Too fucking bad,” Wolf growled, slamming his huge fist into the man's stomach.

  “I get to end it,” I warned Wolf, knowing his reputation for letting his anger, his ghosts from the past, get the best of him and send him into some damn trance only to snap out of it later to find someone dead, their features bashed unrecognizable.

  He sighed, the wind being taken out of his sails and stepped back. He huffed out his breath. “A word,” he said, taking off toward the door.

  I nodded at Cash. “See what you can get.”

  Outside, Wolf was pacing.

  Wolf pacing was never a good sign.

  “Wolf?” I asked, hearing the metal chair inside scream across the floor. Cash, for all his jocular ways, was a violent son of a bitch himself.

  “V?” he exploded, rounding on me. His control was slipping. And if he lost it, there was really no telling what he was capable of. “She's V's?”

  Yeah. It was time to fill in Wolf.

  Or I was going to be the one he went into a trance around and later realized he accidentally killed.

  “Alright. I know. Looks bad.”

  “Bad? Bad!” He was sucking in giant gulps of air, his hands clenching and unclenching.

  “She's not one of his whores,” I went on, ignoring his ticking jaw, but keeping a close eye on him. “V wants her Dad to give him shipping containers. Took Summer to coerce him into it. She got away during the hurricane. I found her. That's all there is to this.”

  “The... club...”

  “Doesn't need to know this,” I clarified, my tone firm.

  His eyes flamed. “His. Men. Here.”

  “Yeah. I know. That's why as soon as I am done with the run, she's moving somewhere else. I just need three weeks, Wolf. That's all I'm asking of you. Help me keep her safe. Keep the rest of the men out of this.”

  “Repo,” he reminded me.

  “Yeah, Repo is going to have to earn my trust by keepin' his fuckin' mouth shut,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked, his breathing slowing, his pacing stopping suddenly.

  “It's personal. Not going to war over a private vendetta, man. Not worth the risk.”

  “Why?” he repeated, shrugging a shoulder.

  I let out a breath. “She screams,�
�� I told him.

  His eyes went to the floor, looking at his feet. “Mom screamed,” he told me.

  “I know,” I said, nodding. I was the only one who did. Outside of Pops who was dead and didn't count. His mom screamed. So his father had to pay. Brutally.

  “When you need me,” he said, slamming his hand down on my arm.

  “Appreciate it,” I said, watching him lumber away.

  I turned back toward the shed, going inside. I nodded at Cash who put the chair back on its feet and watched me. “Wanna go work off that extra energy with one of the bitches?” I asked, knowing that was his M.O. After a fight, he needed a fuck.

  “Yeah,” he said, hitting my shoulder on his way to the door. “You good?”

  “Oh, I'm gonna have some fun,” I said, smiling.

  I woke up to Summer's tongue sliding over the head of my cock. My hand went down, moving her hair out of the way, holding it in my fist. Her eyes rose to mine. And fuck if she didn't fucking grin up at me then take me deep.

  I let her suck me for a few minutes, the velvet wetness of her mouth the best way to wake up. Hearing her throaty moans as she worked me only served to make me harder.

  My fist grabbed her hair and pulled it hard, making my cock slide out of her mouth. And there was that smile again.

  “All fours.”

  Her brows drew together. “Wha...”

  “All fours,” I growled, knifing up, grabbing her, and throwing her down on the mattress. She hit with a grunt, then rose up on her hands and knees, laughing. I reached into the nightstand, rolling on a condom while I watched her perfect ass. “How far you want to take this?” I asked, squeezing her ass.

  She flipped her hair, looking over her shoulder at me. “As far as I can handle,” she said simply.

  And it was the fucking right thing to say.

  She wanted it.

  I gave it to her.

  I spanked her ass until the pale cheeks turned an angry red and her body jerked with each slap. Then I buried my cock deep in her pussy, holding her hips, and not giving her a damn thing but the fullness. Not moving. Not letting her move. Until her pussy started clenching around me, trying to get some relief, until every breath she took was met with begging.

  I only slammed into her twice before she came hard, her moan loud enough to wake the entire fucking compound.

  I flipped her onto her back, dragging her to the edge of the bed, and pulling her legs up onto my shoulders. “Whose pussy is this?” I asked, lifting her hips upward and burying deep.

  “Fuck,” she groaned, slamming her hands down on the bed as her back arched.

  “Whose is it?” I demanded, thrusting forward hard again.

  “Reign...” she tried, her cheeks getting pink. So I could spank her. I could say dirty shit to her. I just couldn't get her to dirty talk back.

  Yeah, she was gonna have to fucking get over that.

  “Tell me or you don't get to fucking come again,” I warned her, meaning it. “I mean it, Summer. I will fuck you to the cusp ten times in a row and not let you finish.” She made a unhappy choking noise. “Tell me.”

  “It's yours.”

  “That's not what I want to hear.”

  She covered her face in her hands, her eyes closed tight. “It's your pussy, Reign,” she said, sounding horrified at her admission.

  “Damn fucking right it is,” I agreed, fucking her fast. Not hard. Just fast. My hips slamming into her thighs faster than she could draw in breath to gasp.

  She came hard, shooting up on the bed, flying at me, her hands grabbing onto my shoulder so hard she drew blood. And sending us falling off the side of the bed.

  I grabbed her as we went down, holding her to my chest. I hit the ground with a grunt. Her face was buried in my neck, laughing.

  “What?” I asked, swiping her hair out of my face.

  She pushed up on my chest to look down at me, smiling. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be getting sex-related injuries.”

  I snorted, rolling my eyes. “We'll get there,” I said, patting her sore ass hard, making her jolt. “Got time. Got nothing better to do with it than throw you around my bed.” I pulled her down toward me, kissing her plump lips hard until she was writhing above me again. “Now be a good little slut and ride my cock, would you?”

  She lifted her head and smiled down at me.

  And then she rode my cock.

  And she walked away with bruises on her neck and thighs to match the little cut on her face.

  And she was pretty fuckin' happy about it.

  Fuck me.

  Twenty

  Summer

  “What do you mean you're leaving?” I asked. Okay. It was more like a screech, but I really just hated that I sounded so shrill.

  But, the fact of the matter was, Reign started to mean something.

  Not just because of the life changing, headboard breaking (literally, we broke the damn headboard) sex. Though I am not naive enough to not realize the sex was definitely a factor. But it was more than that.

  It was that after our morning of sex, he brought me in the bathroom and cleaned the cut on my head. He slathered on triple antibiotic.

  He kissed my forehead.

  He kissed my forehead.

  Then he took my hand and brought me down to the kitchen, scrambling up eggs and buttering toast and giving me coffee the way I liked it.

  It was the fact that no matter what was going on at the compound, he came back up to the bed at night and made time to kiss me, to fuck me, to fall asleep next to me.

  It was about how his arm automatically went around me when one of his men walked by.

  It was the way he didn't coddle me, but still managed to be sweet.

  Two weeks.

  Two weeks of morning sex, for the first time in my life too caught up in another person to not care about morning breath.

  Two weeks of at least one shared meal a day. Of his very demanding, very alpha, very panty-melting sex.

  I tried to remind myself that it was just two weeks.

  Two weeks was nothing.

  You can barely know someone in two weeks.

  But I knew him.

  I knew him.

  And he was leaving me.

  “Summer...” he started, his voice hard. He was leaning against the closed bedroom door, looking down at me sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, trying to make my tone less hysterical. I was being pathetic. And needy. And so not like myself.

  “On a run.”

  “A run?” What the fuck was a run?

  “A business trip,” he clarified. His face was unyielding, his hazel eyes giving away nothing about what was underneath. That wasn't Reign my bed buddy, that was Reign the Henchmen president.

  “How long will you be gone?” God, I sounded like a nagging wife.

  “I'm making it as short as possible.”

  He was giving me nothing. He was leaving me alone at a compound that I never walked around without him and he wasn't even going to give me a roundabout estimate of how long he was going to be missing?

  “Summer...” he said, his voice softer, walking toward me. He crouched down in front of me, his hands going onto my knees. “I can't tell you how long it's gonna be because I don't know. Two days drive each way. Then the meeting, I have no idea. Expect five days, accept that it might be more.”

  Five days.

  That wasn't that bad.

  I could deal with that.

  I was pretty sure I could deal with that.

  “I'm leaving Cash here with you.”

  My brows drew together. “Isn't he supposed to go too?”

  “Yeah, but he ain't. He's staying here so he can keep an eye on you. You know him. You're comfortable with him. And it's good to have someone here who knows about your situation so they can keep an eye out.”

  Keep an eye out because things had died down. After Deke got disposed of (good riddance to bad rubbish), th
ings had died down. And by 'died down' I mean everything stopped. No more of V's men on the streets. No more cops flashing around my picture on posters. No more men snooping around Henchmen grounds.

  Instead of comforting me, it made me worry all the more.

  And while Reign wouldn't talk about it, telling me instead to 'leave Henchmen business to him' (the arrogant ass), I knew it wasn't sitting right with him either. Because no was was V scared away by one lost lackey.

  “Shut those gears down,” he commanded, squeezing my knees. “You'll be fine here. Safest place possible for you. Even if I'm not here.”

  I got the strong, irrational, ridiculous thought that I would never be safe without him around.

  Then I squashed the fuck out of that irrationality.

  Because I wasn't going to let myself be that weak.

  “Alright,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “I understand.”

  His eyebrows lowered, like he could see right through my bullshit. But I lifted my chin and worked to make my face as passive as possible.

  “You understand?”

  “Yep,” I agreed, pulling my hands out from underneath his. “Though I'm going to miss the sex,” I said, standing up and moving away from him.

  I didn't get far.

  He snagged my belly from behind, hauling me back against his chest. “You'll miss the sex?” he asked, his voice sounded half-amused and half... something else. I couldn't quite place it, especially not able to see his face.

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice a little breathless he was holding me so hard. “The sex has been pretty good. I'll miss it.”

  “Pretty good? The sex was... pretty good?” he asked, his tone amused. He knew I was fucking with him.

  “Well,” I said, making my tone sound sweet, “it's been... almost a full day. I think I'm starting to forget if it was any good or not.”

  That was all it took.

  I was turned, my pants and panties were whipped off me and I was thrown on the bed, shirt still on. Then, a moment later, he was on top of me, shirt and pants gone. And a second after that, he slid inside me.

 

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