Cutter's Claim: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (The Demon Squad MC Book 2)

by Monique Moreau

  Greta’s gaze skittered away, and he barely kept his temper in check. “Yeah. Twice.”

  “Christ!” he exploded.

  She flinched, and he quickly placed a steadying hand on the top of her head. The act of soothing her drove back the demons battering his ribs to escape. He’d already lost her once by allowing her fear and his pride to get in the way.

  Lesson learned. From now on, Greta was truly his. Nothing would get in his way again.

  Caressing her velvety black braids softened her stiff neck muscles and she dipped her head forward. His fingers and thumbs kneaded the tendons on her exposed nape. Then, he enfolded her in a fierce hold and rocked her. Her tears fell, and he swept them off with the flat of his tongue. Swallowed them down. Made them his.

  “Baby girl, you’re back where you belong. By my side and under my rule.”

  Limp, Greta brushed her wet cheek against his arm. “What’s going to happen?”

  He’d brief Kingdom on the situation. The Squad didn’t need another MC covertly treading on their territory. First things first. He needed her safe, in his bed. “I want you in my house.”

  “What about Angie?”

  “What about her? She can wait.”

  “She can, but I can’t.”

  Indulgent, he chuckled, “Babe, don’t worry about Angie.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  Women. In a whole heap of trouble, and her concern was about another woman. “We’ll table this conversation for later.” Shifting her on his lap, he reached behind for his key chain. “Enter the house. Lock it behind you. Strip and wait for me in bed.”

  Opening her hand, he placed it in the center. Gently, his fingers folded around hers, and holding her gaze, he promised, “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I wanna wrap your throat in a collar.”

  A voice, more like a growl, floated over her. Eyes flickering open in the dark, Greta stiffened and curled her fingers into claws. She was about to slam her head against the man on top of her when he spoke again, “It’s me. Cutter.”

  Her body went slack, and she swiped a shaking hand over her eyelids. She hadn’t immediately recognized his voice in her barely awakened state. The breeze from the open window tapped the cord of the venetian blinds against the windowsill. Once her vision adjusted, she found him crouched over her like a rapacious beast. In the semidarkness, she peered into his indigo eyes, reveling in the luminous fever shining through. Inhaling a ragged breath, she instantly recognized Cutter’s scent. It entwined around her, swaddling her in reams of gauzy warmth. Her pulse reduced to the speed of sluggish lava. Wetness gushed out of her core, slicking her inner thighs.

  “I missed your heat,” she confided in a rush, as if in a confessional stall.

  “Not my sparkling conversation?” he teased.

  Gripping the taut sinews of his shoulders, she arched and rubbed her breasts against his molded chest. “You’re a furnace.”

  “Ah, so that’s why the bedsheet is on the floor,” he replied in an amused tone, as he ran his thumb across her bottom lip. She wanted to take it between her teeth and lick it like a lollipop.

  “Sure it’s not my cock you miss?”

  “No question on that front,” she affirmed with a throaty laugh. She stretched out like a cat, basking under his gaze.

  “Reach up and hold on to the headboard. Don’t take your hands off for any reason.”

  She latched on as he’d ordered.

  “Spread your legs.”

  The lamp sitting on the nightstand clicked on. A splash of bright light blinded her, but she didn’t remove her hands to cover her eyes. Cutter rummaged around leisurely. With a cluck of approval, he turned around, a black satin blindfold in his grip. The delicate fabric contrasted with the grooves of his calloused knuckles and scarred fingers. Her smile faded slightly. A blindfold meant surrender, whereas a punishment would have been easier and a quick form of release. He draped the blindfold on the pillow beside her temple.

  Standing above her, he languidly sucked on his index finger. There was a popping sound, and then the moist digit was dragging along her jugular vein. Her thumping heart boomed in her eardrums. He stroked the dip of her throat, slipped over her tits and belly, and lodged deep inside her pussy. She lifted off the mattress and buried the side of her face into the pillow.

  He speared her until his finger was drenched and then thrust two more fingers inside. By then, her hips moved in tandem with his fingers. Propped up on his elbow, he gave her a rough finger-fucking while he watched on leisurely. She seized his head and crashed her lips against his.

  Brusquely, he twisted away and removed his fingers. She bit down on her inner cheek to suppress her cry and tasted the tang of blood. Returning her hands to the headboard, she fisted it through gritted teeth and stared up at the ceiling.

  The sound of shoelaces being tugged piqued her curiosity and she peered over to see Cutter hauling his shirt over his head. His back muscles bulged out, like ridges on either side of his spine, and tapered down to his waist. Her tongue darted out. The top of his ass was exposed by the dip of his low-riding jeans.

  Gripping the wooden frame above her head, she fought the urge to drop open mouth kisses on his lower back and then tug his jeans down to lick the crease between his butt cheeks. She was about to move, when he cut her off, “Don’t do it.”

  Cutter turned around, holding a utilitarian collar. Her body was on a hair trigger. Endorphins had been activated, inundating her brain with the natural drug. Leaning over her, he tied the blindfold around her. The lack of sight came as a relief. She was more attuned to him this way. There was the whisper of denim as his jeans slid down his legs, the creaks of the floorboard as he kicked them off. She heard a popping sound as he cracked his neck from side to side.

  Blindfold be damned, a warmth cascaded over her chest, bathed her belly, and then slipped over her thighs. The bed pitched, and a heavy weight settled alongside her.

  “You’re mistaken, you know, you didn’t leave because of my arrest. I was unforgivably careless, but the truth is that you hadn’t worked out your shit about the way I fuck you. It was an easy out, and you ran with it.”

  He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and she chased his mouth, but he gently pushed her away.

  “After you left, I took up with Angie, but I couldn’t go back to the way I was before you. Only a strong bitch will do for me. Are you that strong bitch, Greta? I can’t be lookin’ over my shoulder every time something goes down. Either you’re here to stay, and I put the collar on, or I take the blindfold off and you leave for good.”

  Her eyes popped open, eyelashes brushing satin. More than anything, she wanted to see his expression. “I’m here to stay. I swear it. I’m ruined for anyone else. But, what about Angie?” Disdain coated her tone. “I want to tear her apart. You can’t imagine how badly I wanted to rip her arm off when she touched you. I envisioned slashing her to shreds. She’s not going to let you go. No woman would be able to do that, but if she doesn’t stay away from you, I’ll end up killing her.”

  A smooth chuckle rolled over her, his breath feathering over her cheek. “Gotta admit, jealous is a good look on you.”

  He untied the blindfold. She blinked a few times before her vision cleared, and she swallowed at the earnest, grave expression he wore.

  “Don’t concern yourself about Angie. She’ll bounce back with another man. She’s a kid, and not real picky.”

  Greta shot him a dubious look. “She’s not much younger than I am.”

  “She hasn’t gone through what you have. You grew up faster than you should have. I’ll tell you this, you’re not the only one who’s learned somethin’. My ego took a hit when you left. Instead of bringing you to heel, I turned my back on you.” His frustrated sigh shuddered through the room. “I should have known better.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.”

  His stark eyes fell on hers. “I do. Your moms
and the Green Mountain Boys wouldn’t have done a thing if I’d gone to claim you. But, I didn’t show.” Shaking his head ruefully, he said, “Next time I see Trucker, he and his boys are gonna give me a beating I’ll never forget.”

  “I won’t let them go too far.”

  “Highness, what’s gonna go down is gonna go down. Fact is, another MC took care of what was mine. The brothers won’t allow that shit to go unpunished. Any club worth their salt takes care of their women. And with your mother in the lead, those men are ruthless.”

  Shame vaulted through her like an electrical power surge. “There’s one more thing. Your arrest.”

  “We’ve squashed that. Believe you me, I ain’t getting arrested again.”

  “Please, let me say my piece.” Gulping down a breath, she stated, “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. As a kid, I’d seen what the Horsemen went through for my father. The beatings and incarcerations. Even death. Men with families sacrificed themselves for a leader that didn’t have their back. I witnessed what the girlfriends, baby mamas, and old ladies went through, left to pick up the pieces and take care of fatherless kids. I dumped my baggage on you and ruined our relationship.”

  “Your worries were legitimate, and although I hated what you did, it pushed me to work harder with Kingdom for the sake of everyone. The Squad has started a new chapter.”

  Greta nuzzled her cheek against his open palm and brushed her lips over it. “I know, but even if the Squad had stayed the same, nothing would stop me from loving you.” Her fingertips caressed the stubble of his jawline. “I love you so bad.”

  Grabbing her fingers, he kissed the tips. “Babe, you ain’t tellin’ me anything I don’t know.”

  A hand on her chest, he shoved her down. He went up on all fours and boxed her in. Greta had the pleasure of watching him prowl over her like an alpha beast with his mate. His stiff cock dragged on her abdomen.

  “Angie won’t stop, you know.”

  “Babe, not every woman is like you. She’s loyal, but not caring. She’s nothin’ but a kid and the world is a candy store of cocks to her. Now, let it go, wrap your sexy legs around my waist and spread that pink cunt for me.”

  Her thighs gripped his sides, and the movement notched his cock against her opening. He teased her clit for a bit and the crown slipped into the embrace of her plump lips. One hard thrust later, he rooted himself in deep. Circling her hips to accommodate him, she relished the burn of his cock stretching her.

  “Did I tell you to move? When I want you to change position, I’ll do it my damn self.”

  She froze in place, only her inner walls pulsated around his shaft, and every shift elicited a flurry of shivers. Her pussy was a vessel for his cock, and this was a lesson on how to serve him. She was so primed that a few strokes put her on the cusp. His fingers circled her throat, a habit of his when he fucked her. Swallowing, she gauged the pressure of his fingers, and moaned.

  “You’re pussy’s hot and wet. Sucking my cock so good,” he rasped out, his rhythm increasing forcefully. “Suck it deep,” he slammed his hips forward on a hard stroke, “yeah, like that,” he rasped as he pulled up short, before penetrating her tight heat once again. “Greedy, little pussy, won’t stop clutching on me.”

  Cutter rode her hard, until his rhythm got erratic and jerky. Withdrawing, he brushed his slippery shaft over her lower belly. The muscles of her abdomen fluttered in anticipation. Her shoulder muscles ached, and her fingers were numb, but she retained the lift of her hips for him to bury himself back inside.

  Cutter’s fingers slicked over her curls, pulled the hood back and strummed it while he stoked the fire in her pussy. “That’s right. Feel it?”

  “God, yes”

  “Say my name.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Say my fucking name, Greta. Who owns this pussy?”

  “You,” she croaked out. Her vision detonated. She was thrown down a rabbit hole and came with a blinding lightning-white climax. Throwing her head back, she keened, “Cuuutter!” She pumped upward, striking her clit against his pelvic bone, causing more sparks to fly. Her entire body twitched, while his tempo steadied, slow and precise.

  Babbling mindlessly, she begged him to stop but he built her up again until she shattered a second time. A recurring sucking sound echoed in her ears, and she realized that it was her pussy. She’d been riding her orgasm like a surfer chick going for gold. Throat parched; she licked her cracked lips.

  “Ready for me?”

  His question was more of a warning than anything else. She managed a wobbly nod.

  “Good,” was all he replied. Face contorted, Cutter hoisted her legs over his shoulder and bludgeoned her pussy.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begged. Driving high, his powerful thrusts reached an upsurge until he tumbled over the edge. Rigid above her, droplets of sweat fell as he shot his load over her. Ropes of come gushed out, slipping out of her pussy and painting her thighs. For a split second, she wished that she wasn’t on contraception. Cutter heaved above her, gripping his cock until it was empty. Settled in between her thighs, he grasped her hands and unclenched them from the headboard. His fingers curled around her nape. “We’re never gonna be separated again.”

  Dread snaked around her heart. “Cutter, I’m trouble, and I’m bound to mess things up.” She inclined her head away from him and expelled a weary sigh. “To disappoint you.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Only way you’d disappoint me is if you weren’t trouble.” Two fingers entered her pussy.

  “Not again, babe.”

  He loomed over her again, the length of his cock thickening. One of his eyebrows arched and his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Get back in the ring and brace yourself for another round.”

  “I’m going to put a hex on you boxers.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Greta was lounging on Cutter’s chest, dozing in front of the TV as a game played. Amid the sounds of roaring crowds emanating from the TV, she heard a loud rap at her door.

  Rat-tat-tat.

  A short pause.

  Rat-tat-tat.

  And a third time. Rat-tat-tat.

  Her heart stalled. The rhythm of the knock belonged to one man, and one man only.

  Shadow.

  The muscles bracketing her spine locked up. Unwrapping herself from Cutter’s embrace, she strode toward the door. She flung it open and blocked Cutter’s view of the entrance, praying to get rid of him before all hell broke loose. She cast a glance over her shoulder and groaned inwardly when Cutter got to his feet. Face carefully blank, she acknowledged her visitor, “Shadow.”

  “Greta,” he replied soberly. His gaze took her in, pausing at her chest and hips. With a curled lip, she gave him a thorough once-over as well. He had gotten bulkier. Not one iota less sexy, but there was no “boyness” left in him. His smoky eyes and shock of black hair were still striking against his pale skin. Above his beard, his features were composed of dark, flat planes that matched the flatness of his pupils.

  Cutter came up behind her, his gaze snapping back and forth between them. His chest was a roaring fire against her back. “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Shadow returned, in a dead tone. His eyes had turned into hard narrow slits and his brows slashed down over them. From the corner of her eye, she caught Cutter’s jaw ticking, his expression downright murderous.

  An arm snaked around her waist, and Cutter’s open palm splayed over her belly, exposed by her cutoff tank top. His pinky finger caressed her mons. Shadow’s fists tightened before he loosened them again. A sign as obvious as Cutter’s pulsing jawline.

  Cutter’s free hand moved toward her breast, but she caught it in time and secured it over his other hand. Unfortunately, he was not about to be contained. Making a greater show of his ownership, he sucked on her throat, and bit down. Giving Shadow a stare-down while his incisors sank into her. The bite spiked lust in her bloodstream. Sweat g
athered in her armpits and the small of her back. Meanwhile, Shadow’s glare could singe the hair right off her arms. He had no right to say a damn thing to her, but there was no point in poking the bear. Carefully, she tilted her head away to dislodge Cutter’s teeth. A deadly growl shook against her throat.

  “You’re daddy know you’re here, Horseman?” Cutter demanded.

  Wrapped around her, pulsing with possessiveness, his presence was an electric jolt to her system, his tightly laced violence was as hot as a branding iron. She wanted nothing more than to slam the door on Shadow and lose herself in Cutter. Shove him to the ground, pull out his cock and suck it deep to the back of her throat. Reel it in, girl.

  Unfortunately, Shadow was in Demon Squad territory, and the idiot was about to get himself hurt. She pressed her weight against Cutter to force him to take a step back. Nope, no luck.

  “Quit with the pissing match,” she snapped, eyes boring into each of them. Elbowing Cutter in the gut, she smacked his hands until his hold slackened enough for her to move out of his reach. It stretched her heartstrings taut, but she had no clue how to keep him in line. Motioning to Shadow, she said, “Come in.”

  This was her way of returning the favor of her first kiss. His smooth lips on hers, his quick fingers playing along her ribs and skirting her budding breasts. That moment meant a hell of a lot to a thirteen-year-old girl. A quick side-glance toward Cutter and she almost squeaked. Yikes. Menace roiled in his eyes, and he was snorting like an incensed bull. Instantly, she returned to his side and wrapped herself around him.

  ※※※

  Who the fuck was this pussy showing up at his woman’s door? In his territory? Wearing a Horseman’s cut, the mirror image of the ink on her skin. Cutter’s fingers clenched and unclenched, seconds away from crushing the fucker’s windpipe. The son of a bitch wanted her bad. It was stamped on his face like a botched tattoo. He’d let it play out for a bit, but he was going to murder the bastard the second he stepped out of line. Frowning down on Greta, he gave her a questioning look. She answered it. “He’s the Horsemen Sergeant of Arms.”