Their Saint: Hell’s Rebel’s MC Part II

by Akeroyd, Serena

  Amazing how far she’d come in six weeks. Not that she’d be ready for human flesh for a long time, but still, it was nice to see her own her talent, and do more at the parlor than just play receptionist and autoclave technician. It felt like a step forward, and that was what I wanted for her—to keep the past buried and to walk along a route that led to the future.

  She pulled a face at me. “It stank.”

  “It didn’t.”

  “It fucking did,” she grumbled. “My nose was inches away from it.”

  “You sprayed it with perfume,” I reminded her. Had almost choked us all out too.

  Ama laughed. “You know it stank then or I wouldn’t have wasted perfume on it.”

  “True. You’re just squeamish.”

  Her nose wrinkled but she didn’t hide from it. “You okay?” she asked, throwing the question back at me.

  I nodded as I stared at our families mingling in the backyard of the house that had been mine since I was a boy.

  “Funny how shit turns out, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it is. Especially in such a short space of time.”

  “He’s doing better,” I murmured, tipping my chin at Keys. I reached up and tugged at her earlobe, where his claim was inked behind the sensitive flesh. “You helped him. Not sure he’d have handled everything so well if you—”

  “Pfft. He’d have been okay.”

  “Don’t diminish your importance in his life, babe. He lost his sister and learned his dad had lost parole rights…” My jaw clenched at his father’s stupidity.

  She patted my chest, then spun around so she was leaning into me. I pressed my lips to her temple and whispered, “Wish I was inside you.”

  A soft laugh escaped her. “You’re the one who wanted to visit your folks today.”

  “Dorie was moaning,” I grumbled.

  “Can’t blame her. You’re her only son, babes.”

  I bit my lip at her easy acceptance of something that was true, yet wasn’t. I eyed the woman who’d helped raise me, and saw her and Lucie were hooting about only God knew what. Then I cut a look at Ink and Keys who were bitching about something with Axe and Flame, and then Wolfe and Dagger were hanging with my daddy. My sisters had come out and were jumping in the blow-up pool, and overhead, the stars had made an appearance, disguising the grass that really needed mowing, and the bike parts that took up a large chunk of the lawn because Wheels had been working on restoring in it during his spare time for the past two years.

  This was life, this was home, and this was family.

  It was only now when I realized how much that had opened up, and I was glad, so fucking glad, especially for Ink and Keys who didn’t have much of a family anymore.

  “We gave them this, didn’t we?” I asked quietly.

  She hummed. “They’re never gonna be alone again.”

  “You little fixer,” I teased.

  “Hardly,” she scoffed. “Can’t fix someone else when you’re broken.”

  “You ain’t broken, babe. You’re just a little wonky.”

  Laughter snorted out from her, and she began choking on the sip of Coke she’d just taken. I slapped her on the back, scowling down at her amusement. We caught a few glances from our families, but they turned away when they saw she was just coughing her guts up.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She giggled when she stopped choking. “Nothing. Nothing.”

  I pshawed. “Doesn’t sound like it to me.”

  “I’ll take being wonky over broken is all,” she replied, winking up at me. “In fact, I think I might get that inked on me.”

  “You an addict now?” I teased.

  “Hell yeah. Three pieces and counting.”

  I grinned, then nuzzled my cheek into hers. “You gonna get a tramp stamp?”

  “You want me to get one?”

  “I’d like my eyes on it while I fuck you in the ass.”

  When she shivered, I grinned.

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  ❖

  Ink

  Six months later

  “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.
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  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!”

  12

  Ama

  Two Years Later

  When Keys’ cock tunneled inside my ass, I grunted, bowing my head and pressing 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.