Renascence: Death Dealers MC Book 5

by Alana Sapphire

  God, he was right. Why does it feel so good?

  “You like it,” he declares, as if daring me to admit I do.

  “Yes. Yes, I like it!”

  Slowing his movements, he leans forward, kissing along my spine as he grinds against me, sweat dripping from his skin to mine. The shiver that runs the length of my body makes me tremble beneath him. I match his movements, hips in sync with his. His hold on my hair tightens, pulling my head back so his free hand can wrap around my neck.

  “Trust me, Emily.”

  “I do.” Like I’d say anything else right now. I’m pretty sure if he asks me to sign over my soul, I’ll ask where the pen is. That’s how good this man is fucking me.

  “Good girl,” he growls in my ear.

  The two words, the throaty way he said them, turn me into a molten mess. His grip on my neck gets tighter, another of those things that should hurt but doesn’t. He sure knows how to ride the line between pleasure and pain. He squeezes and releases in intervals, never losing the rhythm of our hips. Releasing my neck and hair, he grabs my ass, dragging his fingers up my flesh. Mine curl into the sheets, needing to hang on to something for fear I’ll float away on bliss. Venom’s palms connect with my cheeks simultaneously, his pelvis slamming against me with each thrust.

  “Venom!”

  He grunts and is gone again, this time turning me over onto my back. My thighs are spread wide to accommodate him as he slides inside me once more. Leaning in, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, massaging the other breast.

  “You fit me perfectly, Emily. Do you feel that?”

  I moan at his words, my muscles clenching around him.

  “Your pussy was designed for my dick.”

  “Oh, God….”

  He grasps both breasts, pushing them together.

  “Your tits were made for me to suck on.”

  I fist my hand in his hair as his mouth showers attention on my nipples. Why does he say these things? Why does he want me as much as he seems to? Why—?

  “You’re perfect, Emily.”

  Me? Perfect?

  He begins to grind against me, circling his hips with every push in. I wrap my legs around his hips, my hand keeping his lips at my breast. Pleasure courses through my body, and not just from his actions. His words touched something deep inside me. Something buried under years of feeling unwanted and unattractive. Something Venom has now set free.

  Desire.

  “Venom, I’m coming!”

  He moves faster, pounding into me as he grips my breasts for traction. My body explodes, shattering into a million pieces, which Venom puts back together when he climaxes, shouting my name. He collapses on top of me, slowly kissing his way up my neck.

  “Holy fucking hell, woman. Where did you get this pussy from?”

  I giggle, sleep already threatening to pull me under. “I don’t know… God?”

  Standing upright, he pulls out of me, sliding four fingers up and down my pussy before slipping two inside me.

  “Shit. I’m not a religious man, but you just might make me a believer.”

  His fingers leave me, but before he walks away, he lifts me into his arms, laying my head on the pillow. I’m way too hot and sweaty for the blanket so I kick it away, and then I’m out like a light before my next breath.

  ***

  The smell of coffee serves as my wake-up call. Stretching, I reach for my phone and check the time: 10:18 a.m. Damn. I’ve never slept this late before. Then again, Venom has me doing a lot of things I’ve never done.

  Dragging my sore ass out of bed, I get my toothbrush and the extra pair of panties I stuck in my bag last night. Yes. Yes, I came prepared this time. After the night I had, I desperately need a shower before I even think of facing Venom. The tub is wet, so I know he’s been up for a while. After a good scrub, washing my hair and brushing my teeth, I feel somewhat ready to face the day. My clothes are nowhere to be found, so I borrow another item of clothing—a T-shirt—before I gingerly head to the kitchen. He’s standing at the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. My mouth begins to water, and it’s not because of the pancakes he’s making. No siree. The man has a body built for sin.

  “Good morning,” he says without looking my way.

  “Good morning. What have you done with my clothes?”

  “They’re—” He glances in my direction, then does a double take. “Fuck.”

  His eyes roam over my body, the hunger I see in them definitely not for pancakes. Turning off the burners, he strides toward me with purpose, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him.

  “You look good in my clothes, darlin’.”

  His lips possess mine the way I’m becoming accustomed to, leaving no doubt as to who’s in charge. His tongue slips between my parted lips, free hand reaching under the shirt. He groans when his fingers connect with my underwear.

  “Where the fuck did you get this?” he growls in irritation.

  “Um….” I find a spot on his chest and focus on it. “I brought it with me last night.”

  Falling to his knees, he pulls it down my legs. I step out of it, watching him tuck the garment into his pocket.

  “Sit. Breakfast is almost ready,” he says, as if he didn’t just steal my panties.

  I take a chair, licking my lips as I watch him walk back to the stove. His muscles ripple and flex, reminding me of every deliriously awesome second of last night. I didn’t even know my body was capable of so many orgasms in such a short period of time. I’ve never achieved more than two in my solo sessions. Damn it.

  I take in the tattoo running down his right arm, a snake coiled around the length, the tail wrapped around his wrist. Its head rests on his upper arm, fangs bared, the word “Doom” above it. My muscles clench when he turns to face me and I see the outline of his dick snaking down his thigh. I swallow hard, my eyes glued to his crotch as he approaches with a stack of pancakes. Today it’s joined by eggs, bacon, and toast.

  “Eat up, babe.”

  I snap out of my haze, turning my attention to breakfast. This time I don’t argue. I’m starving. I guess he was right about needing a full stomach to handle a night with him. He pours me a glass of juice, dropping down in a chair next to me.

  “You’re not eating?”

  “I’ve been up for a while, so I already had breakfast. I’m looking to eat something else.”

  “What?” I turn to him with a mouthful of food.

  His eyes find mine, holding my stare as he licks his lips.

  “You.”

  I swallow. Hard. I hadn’t even finished chewing.

  “M-me?” I stutter through a cough.

  “I’m dying for another taste, darlin’.” His hand glides up my leg, my wanton thighs parting to give him access to what he seeks. I close my eyes, moaning as his finger slides between my lips. When he gets to my entrance, I flinch.

  “Sore?” he asks, stroking my inner thigh.

  “A little.”

  “I figured. My tongue will just have to suffice for now.”

  A shiver runs down my spine.

  He leans in, nipping my earlobe before whispering, “But not until you eat every last bite.”

  And I do. I clean my plate like a good girl, practically bouncing in my seat as he does the dishes, waiting for my treat. When he begins to stalk back to me, I jump to my feet, ready to sprint to the bedroom. However, he grabs my waist, lifting me and planting my ass on the table.

  “Wait… what—?”

  He pushes my thighs apart, licking his lips as he lowers his head.

  “Time for my kind of breakfast.”

  CHAPTER 9

  ***Venom***

  I ride into the clubhouse in a fucking fantastic mood. Being with Emily last night surpassed anything I ever imagined. The woman is sexual crack. Her body is perfection, and I could get lost in it for days with no wish to be found or make my way out. Just thinking about the way she submits to me gets me hard. Fucking hell. I can
’t wait to see her tonight.

  We have church today, so the guys are gathered in the bar, hanging out before we head into the chapel. I make a beeline for the couch where most of them are gathered.

  “What’s up, my brothas?” I throw out to everyone, dropping down on the couch.

  “What the fuck are you so happy about?” Motor asks, his shaggy hair shaking with the movement of his head.

  “I bet I know,” Razor says to my left, winking.

  “Me, too,” Crow chimes in.

  “It seems Miss Emily showed her gratitude for them papers, huh?” Razor nudges my arm.

  Einstein stares at me with that goddamn “I told you so” smirk. I can’t even find the energy to care. They can tease me all they want; nothing can get me down today.

  Reaching into the inner pocket of my cut, I pull out a cigar and lighter, lighting up without a word.

  “Who’s Emily?” Gage asks.

  “The reason we rode to Atlanta yesterday to shake down some asshole,” Razor answers.

  My prez’s brows draw together as he scrutinizes me. “Shit. You got the look, brother.”

  Blowing a puff of smoke in the air, I ask, “What look?”

  “The ‘I got some good pussy’ look. Welcome to the club, motherfucker!”

  They all laugh while I sit back savoring my cigar, the sound drawing everyone else close. “Good pussy” is an understatement. Emily has that diamond-coated, voodoo pussy that would make a lesser man lose his mind. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with James, but his loss is my gain.

  And I hit the motherfucking jackpot.

  “Come on, man. What was it like?” Razor asks.

  I take another puff of my cigar, making them wait. The men who are seated lean forward, impatient for my answer.

  “Look, all I’m going to say is that I exploded like a fucking block of C4.”

  Laughter booms around the room, punctuated by the odd word of encouragement. I meet Einstein’s eyes, daring him to say something. Using his middle finger to push his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, he accepts the challenge.

  “When are we going to meet her?”

  “You’re not.”

  “Why the fuck not?” Gage asks.

  “It’s not that kind of deal.”

  “Fuck that shit. Bring her to the Christmas party. The girls will love having another woman around.”

  “She’s not my woman. I bring her around here and your old ladies”—I motion to Gage and Einstein—“will put ideas in her head. We’re good.”

  “What kind of ideas?” Einstein raises a brow.

  “Are you kidding me?” I give my full attention to the prez. “You’re married, and your woman is pregnant with twins. And you.” I point to Einstein. “Your woman is knocked up, too, and I’m pretty sure you bought the ring already. Like I said, we’re good.”

  “What? You afraid monogamy will rub off on you?”

  The men chuckle at Gage’s question.

  “Fuck yeah. Keep that shit to yourselves, far away from me and Emily.”

  “Whatever. We’ll see, Mr. C4,” he says, rising to his feet. “Let’s get church over with so I can get home to my wife. My pregnant wife who I have monogamous sex with every day.”

  I shake my head, following my laughing brothers into the chapel. There’s no way I’ll hear the end of this anytime soon. Too bad I don’t care.

  I take my chair, scanning the room. Gage sits at the head of the table, Einstein to his left, Razor to his right and my left. Rico, our road captain, is to my right, and Tek, our secretary, to his. Chopper sits at the opposite end, across from his son. Crow, Motor, Charger, and Booker occupy the other side of the table.

  “Okay, fuckers.” Gage taps the table. “Let’s get this show on the road. Tek, anything outstanding?”

  “No, boss. Just a reminder that dues will be collected today.”

  “Got it. Everyone see Venom before you leave.” After words of agreement, he continues. “He’ll also have quarterly dividends from the Kitty and Patch, along with the payout from the Snakes. Merry Christmas, motherfuckers.”

  The men break out into cheers and hoots, beating the table. It will be a merry Christmas, indeed. The Pretty Kitty is our top legit business, and it’s done very well this year, especially this quarter. Patch is the only auto parts store around for miles, so it does okay, too. However, most of our money is made under the table, providing security for contraband. No matter what it is—guns, drugs, even people—we’ll get it where it needs to go safely. The Black Snakes are a MC from Mississippi, who partner with our Jacksonville charter to run pain meds. Gage brokered a deal after a run-in with them last year, and we get a kickback as part of their penalty.

  Every man at this table earns outside of the club. Gage insists on it. Even without club earnings, we’re all good. For instance, Gage owns a couple other businesses, Einstein is a doctor, and Razor owns a gun store and shooting range. I have the gym and my accounting. With tax season coming up, I’ll be pretty busy.

  “Okay, okay.” Prez raises both hands, trying to quiet the men down. “I have something I want to put on the table.” Everyone gives him their undivided attention, some sitting forward. “We don’t have to vote on it tonight, but give it some thought.” Leaning back in his chair, he takes a deep breath. “I’m thinking we should give up the protection runs.”

  His statement is met with mumbles of unease. The men love the money that comes from those runs. The thing is, Gage is the brains behind them. If he wants out, then that’s basically the end of it. He’s the reason the clients come to us.

  “How you plannin’ on filling that gap, son?” Chopper asks.

  “I want to invest in another business. A legit one.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet. I got my wife, plus two kids on the way, Pop. I need to find something that won’t keep me away for days on end and put my life in danger.”

  “I hear you,” Einstein agrees.

  “Nothing we do will bring in the kind of money the runs do, but it will be safer, and will keep us off police radar… keep us out of trouble.”

  “You hanging up the robe and scythe?” Razor asks.

  Gage earned the road name “Reaper.” He isn’t like me, though; he may be skilled at killing, but he doesn’t enjoy it. Now that he has his family, I can see why he would want to take us legit.

  “I’d love to, brother, but it’s a club decision. I’ll go with the vote.”

  “Shit, man.” I shake my head. “Don’t put that on us. Like we’d vote money over family.”

  Every man at the table agrees with me, and this is why I would kill and die for each one. We may be criminals, but we know what’s important.

  “Okay, it’s on the table. We give up the protection runs. Second?”

  “I second,” Einstein backs up Gage.

  It ends up being a unanimous vote, as I expected.

  “Thank you,” Prez says, looking around the table. “I promise I’ll figure this shit out.”

  “We know, boss.” Tek gives him a chin lift, grinning as he adds, “That’s why you’re the boss.”

  “About that….”

  Prez takes another deep breath, glancing at Einstein, who gives him a nod of encouragement. Those two are thick as thieves, so it makes sense they’ve already discussed the matter. A hush falls over the table, everyone hoping he’s not about to say what we think he’s going to say. This club probably wouldn’t function without him. Einstein doesn’t want the chair, and neither does anyone else.

  “Back in September when Krueger showed up at my wedding party? He and I had a little chat.”

  Shit. Krueger is our national president. My ears perk up, anxious to hear what’s next.

  “He told me he’s retiring next year.”

  “Shit,” Chopper mumbles. He’s usually quiet in our meetings, and now he’s spoken twice already. “He’s tapping you to take over, isn’t he?”

  “He said he likes
what I’ve done with our charter, mentioned he’d endorse me in the election.”

  “With his endorsement, it means the position is yours,” Einstein says what everyone is thinking.

  “You don’t just say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to Krueger.” Chopper gives his son a solemn stare.

  “I know. Hence the dilemma.”

  Dilemma indeed. A man like Krueger wouldn’t understand Gage’s need to put his family first. He’s MC through and through, putting the club above everything else.

  “You thought about it?” Razor asks.

  “Some. On one hand, I could do some good for the entire organization. On the other, it puts me in more danger and gives me less time with my family. You can all guess which way I’m leaning.”

  “Which means we also need to find another candidate for Krueger to back,” Einstein says.

  “You’re just a regular shit stirrer tonight, aren’t you?” I chuckle. “Don’t worry, Prez. We got your back.”

  “Thanks, brother. I appreciate it.”

  To lighten the mood, I head to the safe and start distributing payouts. It works, the men’s attention now on their envelopes.

  “Anybody got anything to put to the table?” Prez asks.

  When everyone replies with a no, he adjourns the meeting. I move to the door, collecting dues as the men mill out of the chapel. I record it all, stash it in the safe, then join my brothers in the bar. The Hounds have arrived and are busy serving up drinks and snacks with the prospect. He’s young, but he seems to be fitting in so far. If he sticks with it, he might make a good Dealer.

  “Hey, Venom.”

  I turn to find Marisol smiling up at me. She hands me a beer, threading her fingers through mine and tugging me toward the couch. I allow her to sit in my lap the way she’s done a hundred times, but tonight it feels weird.

  Wrong.

  I’m single so it shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it does.

  “I miss you,” she whispers in my ear, pushing her tits in my face. “Want me to come to your room tonight?”