“Wow, I thought I had it bad,” she jokes, shaking her head. “A story for another day, though,” she adds. “Only one pity party at a time.”
I look up at her and can’t help but lean in and kiss her, my hand on her chin to hold her to me. But this kiss is intense, a wall of heat behind it as my erection comes back full force.
“I’m in,” she whispers. “For better or worse, I am in.”
Chapter 11
Chains
I dive into my treasure box as I bark orders at her. She says she’s in, then I am going to test that right here and fucking now. “Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,” I growl out, and she is quick to do it. I see a smile on her face as she reveals her body to me, but I get the feeling the smile will be wiped off soon, one way or another. She will either open the damn thing in ecstasy, or she will be screaming and begging for me to stop and end it before it even begins.
In truth, I am going to take it easy on her, but my easy isn’t easy at all by any means. I know it’s going to be a mixed bag.
I pull out the ropes, knowing they will leave marks on her skin from the rubbing, and I start tying her to the bed, making sure her legs stay spread open for me. She will not be able to keep or hide one-inch of her body from me tonight.
Then, I get the gag. This one is just a soft cloth, though I have lots worse in my bag of tricks down there, hidden under my bed most nights. I am not going to risk that right away. I have heard of women dying from blocked airways and accidental swallows.
Now, the collar…
She watches me as I wrap a chain collar, the kind you get for cheap at a pet store, and I demonstrate to her exactly what it is for as I pull it taught, choking off her airway as I force her face up to mine to kiss me hard. Then, I let her flop back down on the bed, her neck already red from the force of it.
Lastly, I go for my chains, and only grab a small piece. I prefer these to whips. There is something so much more dramatic about them, and they are the reason I got my name. My obsession with how cold they are and the sound they make against someone’s skin when I hit them hard enough.
I take the gag, the cloth, and I slide it up her body, tickling her pussy on the way, before I stuff it right into her mouth. She looks distressed at first but then settles with it in her mouth before I move on. The chain I rattle in front of me before teasing her body with it, causing her to jump at the cold sensation against her skin.
I slide it across her stomach and down the folds of her lower body before going back up to cross her nipples and make them stand on end. I wrap it around my wrist for safe keeping as I strip down for her, watching as my body excites her from afar. She can’t touch me, can’t taste me, and I won’t give her any relief either. That in and of itself can be torture for anyone. But oh, how easy I am going on her for now, she has no idea what I can do to her.
Once my cock is out, I stroke it in front of her, my eyes never leaving hers. I can see her struggling to get out of her bonds and what it’s doing to her skin, rubbing it raw. She wants to touch herself, give herself something to do while she watches, but it won’t happen. Those things are too damn tight.
I chuckle at her darkly, making it known that I see she is struggling, wanting me. I approach her slowly as if I might just release her, but it’s not going to happen. The sooner she gets that into her head, the better. Because she is in for a long, disappointing, excruciating time here in my bed.
I lean my head down to her pussy and take her sweetness in through my nose. I dare to flick my tongue out, causing her to gasp. All I do is get one, savory taste, before I back up again, circling the bed like I am a lion thinking about the right way to go after my prey.
I unlash the chain from myself and stroke out with it. I don’t think she was expecting it as she cringes and tries to scream through the cloth in her mouth. It is muffled, doing exactly what I wanted. It serves a dual purpose; not allowing her to get out the emotion she wants and making sure no one busts in here thinking I have actually hurt her.
I look at her arm where I hit, the redness already fading. No blood was drawn.
I sneered at her, getting into that mindset, and soon, there will be no turning back. I will be another person, hell bent on teaching her that pleasure is pain nd pain is pleasure.
I pull the chain back again and then lash out, hitting across her tit this time. I know that hurt. Her nipple is still raised and red now from the strike, and she is squirming in discomfort. “Do you like that? Do you like the pain? Pay attention to how it feels. It leaves a sting behind, something that reverberates through your body. It’s almost like an orgasm, isn’t it?” I hiss at her before striking out once again across her other tit. But I let the chain stay on her skin, sliding it downwards until it lands against her swollen and aching groin.
I can smell the fear and the pleasure on her, her sweetness leaking from her center onto the bed. This is doing something for her, much more than I would have imagined on the first try. I don’t know if I am just that good and forgot, or if there is something so screw dup deep inside her just like me that makes her want more of this.
I let the chain sit for a moment, letting her prepare for what I plan to do next. She must know. And then I raise up the chain, smacking it back down across the top of her groin with a satisfying sound. I do it a few more times as she cries out through the gag, her back arching towards me,. She wants me to finish this, but I am still not satisfied.
“Turn over,” I tell her softly, but she protests, clearly struggling with how to do it while tied up. She will have to be punished.
I smack the chain lightly over her pussy as a warning. “Turn over and stick your ass in the air,” I roar, and she finds a way to obey fighting against the ropes around her so much that I feel she might start to bleed a little from the rubbing sores on her ankles and wrists. But there is her pretty ass, arching up towards me like a beautiful sculpture. Too bad I am about to make it raw too.
I go at her, the chains cracking against her backside over and over like she is getting lashings, and each time she bucks forward with a loud moan or the sound of my name. I lose count by the time I look down at my throbbing cock and know ai can wait no longer to have her.
I get up on my knees behind her, slapping my cock onto her sore ass a few times to draw out the teasing just a little more. There can never be enough of that. Next time, I think I will pull out the paddle, she looks ripe and ready for that.
Finally, I slide inside her, quickly bringing is both to release. And while we are satisfied, it was never about this part, only about the beginning of many long nights to come if she sticks with me.
Chapter 12
Nails
It has been three weeks since the night I gave myself over to Chains and his sick pleasures, and now those sick pleasures have become mine. Though, I have found some things I like and some I don’t. The chains are harsh, but I can’t always tell him no. He is named for them, after all. But I personally prefer the paddle and the collar, both give me very exciting sensations in my body and excitement without overstepping the pain. They don’t feel like torture, but enhancements.
We haven’t exactly come out and told anyone that we are seeing each other. I don’t think we are purposefully hiding anything, or that we are on a trial run, I think that we are both just private people when it comes to relationships. So, when I see him in a booth at the bar, talking with a couple of the other men, I am unsure how I should react. I don’t know if he is into any PDA or anything, or if he would rather just shoot the shit while I give Queenie a hard time over at the bar.
But then our eyes meet, and he openly beckons me over. It’s strange, this new routine. I don’t feel like I will ever get used to it. Nor do I know what to call him.
Boyfriend?
That sounds silly coming out of the mouth if a 35-year-old woman who could make even a stripper blush with her escapades. But what else is he?
Ugh, this whole thing is ridiculous, and I feel like a sch
ool girl as my heart patters out of time while I walk as confidently as I can manage over to where he sits. I slide in next to him silently, letting him put his arm around me. The status is clear, at least the fact that we are fucking on a regular basis, but I don’t speak up, and neither does he, even when the other men take pause. I want to laugh, but I will save it for our own private joke later. Right now, I just want to enjoy being on someone’s arm who isn’t afraid or ashamed to show me off.
We just sit like that, eating and drinking until it gets quiet before we are alone. He turns to me suddenly and asks me, “So, are you ready to give up your story?”
“Where the hell did that come from, Chains?” I question him, taking a good swig of my vodka, my own personal poison.
“I just feel like you owe me by now, right? Like I told you everything, bared it all, now you can do the same for me?”
I glower at him like he is insane and shake my head. “If I am going to do this then I need more vodka, and you have to promise to keep it mild tonight, maybe just use the collar and some spankings,” I tell him with a grin.
“Okay, that sounds fair, I will oblige. Let’s get to our room, then,” he says, and I can’t help but catch the implications of that. Yes, I have spent many nights in his room now. I don’t think I have slept in mine in a week straight. But we still haven’t defined anything as us or what us is. Yes, we are exclusive, that is clear, but that doesn’t mean we are serious. We are just exclusively in each others’ beds. But this sounds more serious than that, and I don’t know what he even meant by it, or if he even realized what he was saying.
I get up and follow him to his room in shock, trying to prepare myself for what I am going to reveal to him. I don’t think being a groupie is going to bother him, but my history with Karl is pretty fuckin’ important considering Chains answers directly to the guy. I am afraid it’s going to put a damper on things, maybe some jealousy, which would be all too easy considering he was already afraid before that he would be sharing me with random men. How would he feel if he thought there was still something going on between me and the prez?
I chug the vodka the moment we close the door. “That bad, huh?” he teases at me, though he looks worried. “Can’t be worse than mine, right?” He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and I can’t even bring myself to pretend right now.
Instead, I lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling as I relay the tragedy that was my youth, How I left home at a young age to follow rock stars and ended up falling for one only to get my har ripped in two when he came to head up an MC that I thought he hated.
I have to give it to the guy, Chains is silent the whole time. Doesn’t try to interrupt me once, and I am a little afraid he might have even fallen asleep for a second until I peek over and catch him looking at me.
“I’m sorry. I warned you it wasn’t so pretty. I get it if it bothers you. I guess if I were in your shoes, it would bother me too.”
He grabs my wrist and forces me to look over at him again. “That’s shit. What he did,” he says, getting a piece of hair out of my face. “I can’t cuss him out or beat the shit out of him like I want because he’s my prez, but I am secure enough in myself to know that if you were going to be with him by now, you would. I don’t think even at your lowest you would go back to him.”
“I certainly hope not,” I say, going through all the scenarios in my mind in which I would feel the need to go back. I can think of none.
“Thank you for telling me. How about that reward now?” He smirks in that half smile I love, and it drives me up the wall.
“You mean punishment,” I say, my eyes lighting up as I go under the bed for his box of toys. I put the chain dog collar on myself and turn over on all fours.
“Looks like you’re going to be my little bitch tonight,” he gruffs into my ear, and I can already feel my pussy saturated under my shirt. He lifts it up over my ass to find that there are no panties there, just for him. “Oh, I see you’re a bad bitch today, to be specific. A little slut. I will train you to be my little slut, bitch,” he grits through his teeth, and it is taking everything I have not to just cream myself right now. His authoritative tone, the way he touches and plays with my body in new ways. I will never get used to it, but that means it will never cease to be exciting.
His hand pounds against my right ass cheek, and I holler out only to have him grab the chain around my neck and tug, forcing my head up as the chain presses to make an imprint against my skin. “Did I tell you you could make a sound?” he asks me. I am silent, I know how this works when he gets like this. I am his bitch, and I do what he says.
And oh, how I love it.
Chapter 13
Nails
A knock comes at the door, and I am unsure if I should hide, or what. I look at Chains and raise an eyebrow, and we both decide it’s best that I at least hide which clubwhore I am under the covers just in case, considering my recent experiences with Karl.
Chains opens the door in his boxers, and I can hear that the prez is asking to see him. I don’t really like this. It hasn’t been long enough since he watched those men die, since we had to mourn two members without any bodies and stitch up several more bullet holes. But I have the feeling that Karl doesn’t give a shit and will continue to push Chains and the others to do things they just don’t belong doing. I have no faith in that man anymore. Not that I had much to begin with after all these years, but I still held out hope that he cared about the MC, but it is clear he sees them as dispensable money and killers, nothing more. Especially newer members. I bet that if he didn’t need a new person to go after whatever it is he is up to, he never would have given Chains his tat and cut; he would have just let him prospect til he was old and gray since he was a burden on the MC.
I watch silently with worry as Chains gets dressed and heads to talk with Karl. I pace back and forth, waiting for who knows how long before he comes back in. I can see something in his eyes immediately that lets me know I am not going to like what he has to say.
“I leave again in two days,” he says flatly, and I don’t know how he is keeping a straight face when he knows he will likely be in the same danger as last time. “Prez seems to think that it will be better this time, that he handled things, but I don’t know. I shouldn’t tell you what we are doing, but some part of me wants you to know. I think you deserve to know.”
“Why?” I question, honestly confused as to why he would think I deserve anything. I DO want to know, of course, but I don’t think anyone owes me anything. I realize that I feel like all this time he has been doing me some kind of favor by accepting me as his girlfriend, or whatever I am, and letting me sleep in his bed each night in his arms.
“Are you really that blind, Nails?” he asks, falling down onto the bed like a deflating balloon.
“I guess I fuckin’ am,” I tell him, maybe a little too hardly, before nervously biting my typically perfect, long, red nails.
“Because I am falling in love with you, Nails. I think we really have something. And I don’t feel right keeping secrets from you.”
I suck in a breath, unsure if I ever thought I would hear such a thing again. Am I ready to hear it? Do I feel the same way? I don’t even know if a man like Chains with all he has been through can be certain what love feels like. It could feel like pain and someone who is always around, someone who is using him. But something in me sparks, and I am damn hopeful like I haven’t been in years that this is the real shit.
“You’re falling for me?” I repeat. And it sounds so foreign coming from my lips. I don’t sound like Nails right now, not at all. Nails is a tough bitch, a sad whore, not an unsure woman who may or may not be in love with some guy she’s been fucking exclusively for weeks. What, a month or so now maybe?
What I hear is a voice I haven’t heard since Karl left me, and her name is Brooke.
My real name.
Damn, how long has it been since I have thought of that?
“What’s
your real name?” I ask him, and he looks at me like I have gone and lost my damn mind, and maybe I have. But if we are going to do this, then I think we should know that. All or nothing, right?
“I want to know your name, before I say anything. If you was t me to know things, I think that should be part of it.”
He runs his hand through his almost non-existent hair. “It’s Shane,” he says before looking at me, and I don’t think I have ever seen a man looking at me this way not even Karl, and that’s when I know this is so real when that never was.
“Mine’s Brooke,” I tell him, just barely louder than a breath. If we weren’t in this enclosed space alone, he never would have heard me say it. “And, yes, I guess I would like to know where the fuck Karl thinks he is going to send ya’ll off to again to get killed. You know I am not okay with this shit, whatever it is, especially now that you re someone I can lose.”
I reach over and place my hand over his while sitting down next to him, unsure how to act in this new dynamic.
He sighs and looks away. I can tell he doesn’t like it either but is resigned to the fact that he has no choice. And if I am being honest rather than an unruly bitch, I guess I know that deep down too. He can’t just betray the MC, especially after just becoming a member. He would be even more fucked than he is now. “We are running heroin from New York,” he says, and my jaw just about drops away from my skull to the floor.
Chains (Quarter Kings MC Book 1) Page 5