by Kay Maree
“Don’t play the blame game with me, honey. I would have had everything I ever wanted if you’d never come around.” I shook my head at the delusional woman. Tank didn’t want her. It was obvious by the derogatory term he called her.
“That’s why he calls you a club whore.” I smiled smugly. The woman flew at me and I barely had time to get out of the way before she landed on the couch with a thud.
“You bitch! I knew I should have just gotten rid of you that first day you came to the clubhouse, but dear old dad wanted you alive and now look what happened! They’re both going to jail, and I have nothing!”
“For real? How can you make this about you? You are so stupid,” I yelled back at her. She flew at me again but this time instead of moving, I was pissed. My fist flew out without a thought and I smashed her pretty face. She wailed in pain and fell to the ground. I smirked at her melodramatics. She was a dumb bitch and I didn’t feel one bit sorry for her.
“Did you just attack her?” A police officer walked up to me.
“Yes!” Crystal wailed. “She attacked me for no reason.” She turned innocent eyes up to the man who bought her innocent victim act and put handcuffs on me.
“You’re gonna buy her act? She set this whole thing up,” I yelled at the man.
“I saw you hit her.” He shrugged as he led me out of the plane. I saw Tank sitting on the ground with his hands behind his back and Miguel speaking quietly with one of the officers.
“Whoa, she’s innocent in all this.” He came up to the officer.
“I just watched her assault the other victim.” He tried to pull me with him, but Miguel got in his face.
“Victim? That woman is no victim. She dragged Nadia here by her hair to offer up to the cartel boss. Release her.” The police officer shrugged before taking the cuffs off me. I raised an eyebrow at Miguel, but he wasn’t giving anything away. The guys were going to be pissed when they found out he was law enforcement. I hoped it didn’t mean they wouldn’t trust me. I had nothing to do with him. I met him the night I was rescued.
“Thanks, but what about them?” My lip quivered. Without Tank I had nowhere to go. I was sure all my father’s assets would be frozen. It wasn’t as though I wanted anything to do with his money anyway.
“I’m working on it.” He winked at me, but I was hollow. I needed them to let Tank and Mike go. This was ridiculous. He turned and left me standing there alone so I decided to walk over to Tank. He looked up at me with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He hung his head and I looked at him in confusion. “For not trusting you. For walking away and putting you in this position. I’m sorry.”
Dropping to my knees in front of him, I cupped his cheeks in both my hands, tilting his head up to look at me. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for this. And no matter what happens tonight whether they let you go or not. I’m gonna be here. I want to be with you. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes shone with something. It couldn’t be love we hadn’t known each other long enough… yet.
EPILOGUE
Tank
Six months later…
I stretched my arms over my head as something roused me from my sleep. My eyes hadn’t even opened but I recognized the feel of Nadia’s hot mouth on my cock. It was one of the best sensations in the world. Second only to the feeling of being deep inside her.
We had come a long way since the night we first met. We’d both taught each other things over the last six months that brought us closer together, solidifying the connection we felt from that first moment. I loved her but I still hadn’t said those words. I was planning to though, when the time was right.
I groaned when she swirled her tongue around my cockhead, and I grabbed her under her arms pulling her slowly up my body.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Her pout was adorable.
“I was enjoying myself.” She tried to wiggle free from my grip, to go back to her task of bringing me pleasure.
“Well, I want to enjoy you.” I grinned at her as I rolled over, so she was underneath me. I nipped at her neck before pushing into her slowly. Nadia wriggled beneath me, seating me deeper.
“Harder Tank, please,” she begged.
Any time she begged it was my undoing. I grabbed both of her wrists with one hand and pushed her thigh up and out, spreading her wide with my other hand, before I slammed into her to the hilt. She was so fucking wet I didn’t need to worry if she was ready for me, she always was.
“Oh god,” she screamed, and arched her back presenting those gorgeous tan breasts and I couldn’t help but taste them. I licked at one nipple before turning my attention to the other. Her head thrashed from side to side as her walls started milking me. I wasn’t gonna last much longer and we both knew it. A few more strokes and I came on a roar.
When we both had finally caught our breath, I pulled her into my arms.
“God, Nadia, I love you so much. I would burn the earth to the ground if it meant you were here with me always.”
Her eyes teared up as she smiled back at me. “I love you too, Tank, more than I ever thought possible. You saved me from more than traffickers that day. You saved me from living a life of lies. You gave me the truth and let me decide for myself what I wanted, what I needed. That’s you. It will always be you.”
THE END
About the Author
Ember-Raine Winters lives in sunny California with her two beautiful kids and a wolf. Also known as Apache her pure white Siberian Husky.
She loves writing romance and reading just about anything she can get her hands on.
And, football! She loves watching football and going to games. It's one of her favorite ways to unwind.
She dislikes the super-hot temperatures in her city and exercise. She hates to exercise but somehow her sister still gets her to do it every day.
She also thinks it's completely awkward talking about herself in third person.
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EXECUTIONER
SAMMY KING
EXECUTIONER
Copyright © 2019 by Sammy King
The right of Sammy King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
“That’s right baby, right down your throat,” Maverick or better known as X, which stood for Executioner, groaned.
He looked down at the cute brunette with her big brown eyes that was currently sucking his cock down her throat, gagging as it hit the back of her tonsils. His balls were tightening with every thrust into her mouth. X roared out as he filled her mouth with hot spurts of cum, the girl’s eyes watered as he held her head tight to his pelvis, forcing her to drink every last drop. Once his cock stopped twitching, X released the bac
k of the girl’s head and leaned against the wall. The girl wiped her bottom lip and looked up at him with hope in her eyes.
The girls always looked at him with that same look, a look that pleaded for X to make them his. However, it was the same story for every one of them. They were no more than a hot pussy or mouth, occasionally he found one who would be willing to give up her ass, but at the end of the day, it was about his pleasure. They could go and find one of the other guys in the club if they wanted cuddles and romance. That wasn’t X.
There was a reason he was the executioner. The sergeant at arms of his MC, The Kingsmen. He didn’t give a fuck about anything. His life was lived hard and fast. He was quick to pull the trigger of his sawn-off shotgun, he fucked hard and his brothers were the only ones that got his heart and trust. There had been many men and a few women who had seen the barrel end of his shotgun, there were none that lived to tell about it.
“X? Will you make me cum?” the brunette on her knees asked with a nasally whine while looking up at him with her big begging eyes.
X smirked and chuckled, “go find one of the prospects, I’m betting they will be wanting to give you all you need.”
The girl’s eyes widened, he kept calling her the girl in his head, because the truth was when she told him her name, he hadn’t bothered listening, it didn’t matter to him. He preferred his women to not talk. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow as he tucked his now flaccid cock back in his jeans. She frowned and growled as she stood up from her knees, as she spun on her heel, she flicked him in the chest with her hair.
X reached out and snagged her hair in his hand, spinning her back to face him with a squeal. Her eyes watered from the hold he had on her. “Lose the fucking attitude,” he growled, before releasing her.
The girl gave a quick nod, before she turned, this time without attitude and headed over to their latest prospect, Hale. The kid was green, X had been against him prospecting for the club, but it had been ultimately the President, Blaine’s decision and what he said, was law. So, Hale became a prospect. He was more tolerable than when he first joined them. Hale needed experience. He was a street kid that had run away from junkie parents and found himself outside the club house. Angel, Blaine’s old lady took pity on him and brought Hale to Blaine. There was only one person that could get Blaine to lose his hardened exterior and that was his old lady. So, when Angel asked Blaine to bring the kid in, Hale was brought in. He was a pain in the ass and X was ready to kill the shit, but once he got his end wet between the thighs of Hadley, one of the club girls, he calmed down, all the extra testosterone that he was throwing down, left him out the eye of his cock. Hale was better off for it, Hadley now made sure to keep him well supplied by the club whores, who regularly serviced the guys.
Hadley was a red head who had been with them what seemed like forever. She looked like she could be in her fifties, but the truth was X had no idea how old she was. She trained the girls, cooked for the guys and was generally the mama bear of the club. She normally didn’t fuck the guys of the club and the guys respected her decision, but she had a soft spot for Hale, she wanted to man him up. There was no room for weakness in a club like theirs. So, she had taken him back to her room and fucked him every which way to Sunday. The boy came out red faced and wearing a grin the size of Texas. The club cheered and patted him on the back as he came to the bar, where their bartender, Johnny poured him a shot of whiskey and told him it would put hair on the kid’s chest. Hale sucked it down in one gulp, before his whole body was taken over by hacking coughs. Hale patted his chest and looked around the room, his eyes watering as he gasped for air. The guys at the bar laughed like a pack of hyenas. Truth was, they all did that the first time Johnny poured them a shot of whiskey, it was as strong as fucking rocket fuel.
Johnny distilled his own whiskey, one of their side businesses was moonshine and whiskey, that Johnny made. He’d been making it for years; his daddy and his granddaddy had made it before him and passed down the recipe. From what X knew his granddaddy had been the bartender for the club also. X grew up with Johnny and remembered hanging out with him at the club with his father. X’s father was sergeant at arms of the club also, and when he was killed in action, five years prior, it became X’s job to step up and take his place. For the first year and a bit, he had made it his job to seek revenge on every fucker that had been involved in the death of his father. Starting with the president of The Iron Horsemen. X tortured that piece of shit for three days straight before he gave up and died.
The Iron Horsemen had always been their enemies, they wanted the turf that The Kingsmen owned. They were always trying to shovel their low-class party drugs on their turf. And every time they were found out, The Kingsmen would take them out, usually at the hand of X. However, they never learned. The Iron Horsemen were like a multifaced snake, you lop the head off one and there is another to replace them. Most of the time, they were the sons of the previous Pres., they bred like fucking rabbits. They had club whores coming out the woodwork and usually they were kept barefoot and pregnant.
X didn’t have much love for women, especially the club whores, however, even he drew the line at treating the women the way they did. It wasn’t unusual to see one of their women in town with a busted lip or black eyes. The kids all had a wide-eyed stare of terror. They ran the place like a fucking cult. You had to be born into the club to join, and as far as X knew, no one ever left. The common joke was that they had to have run out of fresh blood by now, surely sisters and brothers were fucking. It sent a shudder through X at the thought of it.
Normally the cops would stop them, CPS would be called, and that shit would be shut down, but like The Kingsmen, The Iron Horsemen had the cops in their back pockets. No one else was brave enough to report them, and if CPS rocked up, who would protect them? Not the cops. So, the abuse and shit that X didn’t even want to think about continued to happen. X looked over his club, Blaine had his old lady, Angel on his lap, his fingers played in her pants, their VP, Gannon, sat watching Arsen, one of the prospects and Diesel play pool. Random bikers were dotted throughout the room, club whores were on their knees or dancing for the men. Hadley was cleaning up empty cups and laughing at the guys antics. The girl that had X’s cock down her throat only minutes earlier seemed to be over her upset, while Hale had her on her back and his head buried between her thighs. Her high-pitched squeals making X’s back teeth ache.
CHAPTER TWO
“Hey X, did Paige take care of you well enough?” Lolly, one of the whores that had been with the club for a few years asked.
X looked down at Lolly and raised his eyebrow, “Paige?” he asked.
Lolly rolled her eyes and chuckled, “the girl who sucked the cum from your dick, seriously X, if your cock wasn’t so pretty, you wouldn’t be worth the hassle.”
X shrugged and chuckled, he didn’t give a shit what the girls thought of him. There was no way he was going to make any of them an old lady, which was ultimately what they all wanted. He was happy dipping his cock in them and then going to bed alone. He didn’t need a woman to cuddle. Fuck he lost his virginity when he was twelve to a club whore on the pool table. He had to fucking stand on a chair just to reach her pussy with his cock, she showed him how to pleasure a woman. He fucked her every day and night until he was fifteen, when she was found raped, beaten and killed, out the front of the club, dumped on the side of the road like a piece of garbage. X was devastated, he cried, when his dad saw the tears, he took his son and pulled him into his chest.
“Our first love always hurts the fucking most,” his dad had said quietly, “but you’re a man, you wipe off your tears, you pull your shoulders back, and you take your sorrow and turn it into the anger you are going to need to fuck a man up, you understand me?”
It was the very next day that X tortured and killed his first man. It turned out that when Bree had left the club to go home, she had been followed by one of The Iron Horsemen. He wasn’t even one of t
he guys in the inner circle, just some outsider muscle. When she unlocked her house, he punched her in the face and dragged into her bedroom, where he raped and beat her to death, before leaving her on their doorstep.
His dad had brought him to the warehouse they use for this sort of shit, at the back of the old disused rail yard. There tied up and spread eagled in the center of the warehouse was Martino, his girl’s killer. When his dad told X who the man was, X had sneered and asked his dad if he could kill him. His dad clapped him on the back and laughed.
“You hear that boys? My boy is about to become a fucking man,” he roared.
Blaine’s father, who was the President of the club before Blaine, smiled a toothless smile and nodded, before he pat X on the back. Timmy, Blaine’s father, pointed to the bag that held X’s father’s gear, “alright son, as long as it’s good with your old man, go for it. Let me give you a rundown of how this works. First, I will ask him a question, if I like his answer, then I won’t let you hurt him, however, if I don’t like his answer, then I want you to cut him deep, wherever on the body you like, just don’t kill him. We need to take this slow, got it?”
X nodded his head, “yeah, got it,” he said almost salivating with excitement. He could practically taste the man’s blood, pumping through his veins with fear.
“Here you go son, I can’t tell you how proud I am of you boy,” X’s father said with a grin.
X rose about another three feet with his dad’s praise and smiled, nodding his head, taking the knife in his hand. A nice long bowie knife, his father held a sawn-off shotgun, the same one that became X’s the day he died.