His Poppy: Furious Daggers MC

by Brogan Riley

  A learning disability.

  Yes, I’m a very bad man.

  I’m gonna buy her beautiful clothes. I’m gonna cook the food she likes. I’m gonna keep her in my bedroom only for myself.

  I fucking have no sense of guilt, and that’s weird.

  “You’re very smart, Poppy, and I’m sure you can do a lot of things in life.”

  “I can play a piano.”

  “You see. I can’t play a piano.” I pop more of the ice cream into her mouth. “You think you could have a husband, a family?”

  “I can have a family,” she says with a full mouth. “I’m capable of consenting to… to…”

  “Sex.”

  That’s what I wanted to hear from her. Not to mention that Tank wouldn’t have encouraged me to take her. We’re bad men, but we never cross the lines.

  I shove another spoonful of the ice cream into her mouth and she gulps.

  Fucking hell, I want to hear the words ‘fuck’ and ‘cock’ come out of her innocent mouth. I want her to chant ‘fuck me harder, Jackson’ when I’m buried inside her balls deep.

  “I mean,” she gasps. “Nobody will marry me anyway. You have a family? I can be a childminder for your kids… if you have any kids of your own.”

  She’ll be the mother of my kids.

  Yeah, I realise I want to have kids with her.

  I nuzzle my nose against her hair. My head is so pleasantly drunk on her closeness. Yep, no rationality inside me left.

  I keep feeding her, enjoying every second of our time together.

  Fuck me. It feels like a date and the chick in my arms is so beautiful.

  “I have no children of my own, Poppy, and I have no wife. Maybe you could be my wife?”

  She turns her face to mine, her eyes wide. “I know you want to be nice, but I don’t like being pitied. Or joked of.” She drops her head and takes a sharp breath. “I mean… I didn’t mean to be harsh on you. Please, don’t get rid of me. I have nowhere else to go.”

  Okay. I should be more careful with her. More tactful. Tank told me to go easy on her.

  Yet I can only focus on her full lips and large breasts exposed by her top.

  “You ever had sex, Poppy?” Fucking hell. Is that being tactful?

  “Why do you need to know?” Her body stiffens against mine.

  “People talk about such things.”

  “Adults?”

  “Yes, adults. We’re adults, right?”

  She flashes me a smile and I know I’m on the right track.

  “No,” she says. “Never.” She nods several times. “But I know everything I should know.” Her eyes shift to mine. “It took me ages to read the information on the net, you know. I’m as slow as a slug. I mean my reading is slow, but I can run very fast. I can swim. I can jump. I can… I can exercise. This is the only thing I can do as well as other people.”

  Hell yeah, we’ll exercise a lot together. Every night. Every hole of yours.

  Untouched. My dick wants to explode.

  She takes a convulsive breath and continues to twitter. “I can climb. Different things… surfaces I mean. I can…”

  Can you shut that sweet mouth of yours and kiss me?

  She makes dramatic gestures of her hands, talking about her abilities, but I stop paying attention.

  I realise I’m relaxed like never before.

  I’m happy. Full of hope.

  I haven’t been happy since my mother died.

  This innocent creature is bringing light to my dark world. Is bringing joy to my dark heart. I want it to last forever. Poppy is my bright star. I’m like a glassy lake in the mountains at night. We’re perfect together.

  “We should go have some sleep, Poppy.”

  “But you took only one room. You have to take a room for me.”

  “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

  I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss her and fondle her in my arms.

  I rise to my feet and brace Poppy’s waist with my hands. She slips into my jacket and giggles as I lift her up and carry her out of the café. I love holding her in my arms, plastered to me.

  “People are staring,” she says into my ear.

  “So what? I can’t allow a wounded lady to go on foot.”

  “Am I a lady to you?”

  “My old lady.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since now.”

  Poppy

  People joke. Maybe I could learn to joke. Jackson likes joking and I’m probably too stiff for his tastes. Too stupid for his tastes.

  Tank calls Marion his old lady. She’s his wife.

  Jackson told a nice joke. I wish he’d been serious.

  I want to be a woman to him.

  I want to be his wife.

  No, I’m too stupid to be a wife.

  Sadness sits on my chest.

  I want a family. A real family like Tank’s.

  “My mom died in labour,” I say. Yes, I’m nervous so I will tell him the story of my life. Tank and his family didn’t make me feel nervous. I never burbled while being with them.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Jackson says.

  We enter Jackson’s motel room.

  “I can sleep in the bathroom,” I say.

  He chuckles as he wraps his arms around me, knocking the air out of my lungs. “The bathtub is probably too narrow for both of us.” He spins with me, causing me to feel dizzy.

  My fingers dig into his shoulders as my eyes meet his. Something boyish sneaks into his gaze and flickers mischievously. A low growl leaves his mouth like he’s a contented bear.

  “Poppy,” he says, chuckles, shakes his head and then he lays me on the bed. “Stay here. I’ll go get our stuff.”

  “I have no stuff.”

  “Marion’s packed a few things for you.”

  “Okay, but where am I going to sleep, Jackson? On the floor?”

  “On the bed, with me. I need to keep an eye on you.” He winks at me and walks off.

  I freeze.

  What does that mean? Does he like me? Or does he want to keep me safe?

  He returns in what feels like five minutes with two worn out leather bags in his hands.

  “Go have a shower, Poppy.”

  I flop from the bed and limp towards the bathroom, but Jackson flings himself towards me and wraps his arms around me from behind.

  “I’m sorry, princess,” he says. “I promise I will never forget to carry you.”

  I have this feeling of dizziness again as my body rises in his arms. It’s not pleasant, but his massive hard body against mine is.

  “My ankle was twisted very badly,” I say. “It healed some time ago, but I keep twisting it. Not as badly as previously, but…” I realise I’m not breathing.

  “That’s not a problem. I can carry you all the time.” His voice is tinged with feral rasping. “A bath then so as not to strain your ankle.”

  He puts me on the toilet, fills the bathtub with hot water, and brings some toiletries. I feel like a five-year-old child. I can take a bath. I can do a lot of things. Simple things, I mean.

  I can’t drive. Our maid tried to teach me how to drive, but I’m just not clever enough.

  “If you needed help, just call me,” Jackson says.

  I nod in response.

  Jackson puts his hand on the back of his neck. “Be careful so as not to wet your tattoo.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can help you, Poppy.” He looks at me like he wants to kill me, rubbing his hand on the front of his jeans.

  “Thanks, but I can manage.” I’m not a baby. I’m only disabled and that’s a huge difference.

  Jackson flashes me a smile and walks off.

  Chapter 4

  Jackson

  She needs me.

  All of my bitches needed me, but I didn’t give a fuck. I needed them for a night or two. I needed them for a few hours of fun.

  I needed to get rid of them and never to see them ag
ain.

  That sweet little flower needs me and I love it. I need her. I want her by my side all the time. I’d go to hell if she asked me to.

  I can’t grasp it. How did that happen?

  I perch on the bed, my feet moving like there are sharp nails under the soles of my boots. I want her to call me. I’d help her. Maybe I’d even touch her.

  I’d be slow and gentle at first. I’d run my thumbs down her aristocratic throat and circle her nipples. They’d harden at my touch. A sweet gasp would escape her beautiful mouth.

  I’d kiss her lips. I’d kiss all of her. I’d impale her onto my length. I’d give her multiple orgasms.

  The door creaks open and she walks out, wrapped up in a towel. Water is dripping from her damp hair.

  “I have no pyjamas,” she says as embarrassment tinges her voice.

  “Did you brush your teeth?”

  She nods. “I did.”

  “So jump under the comforter. You don’t need any pyjamas.”

  She freezes with her jaw dropping open.

  I want to shove my hard dick into that beautiful mouth of hers. Fuck. I want to do horrible things to her.

  Slowly. I need to be gentle with her.

  “We’re friends, Poppy. We don’t need any pyjamas.”

  I’m a monster. That pretty fawn has made a monster out of me.

  She drops her head as she sneaks under the comforter. The sight of her lush naked ass calls out to my primal part. I can see her wiggle under the lilac thickness of the comforter as she removes the towel and tosses it onto the carpeted floor.

  Poppy

  He goes to the bathroom and I hear him shower.

  I don’t know what to think.

  I know what sex is, but Jackson doesn’t want to have sex with me, does he? I’m no woman to him. He’s just looking after me as was Tank and his family. Jackson is a good man and that’s what good men do. They help idiots like me.

  I have no pyjamas so he’s not going to put them on either. He doesn’t want to make me feel upset or embarrassed.

  I wish he wanted to have sex with me, but this is not going to happen. Ever. Why would he want a repulsive creature like me? I evoke pity in people. I’ll never be able to turn him on.

  I roll over on my side, using my elbows for support, and slide my hand under the pillow. The bathroom door creaks open and Jackson walks out as clouds of steam follow him. A towel is wrapped around his hips. I roll over on my other side and shrink into myself.

  “You need anything, Poppy?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  I’m not fine. I’m nervous, but he doesn’t need to know this. I watch him perch on the bed and put a gun on the bedside cabinet. I’ve seen Tank’s gun a few times so I’m not frightened.

  They’re bikers. They lead a dangerous life. None of my business.

  Jackson removes his towel, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I feel him slip under the comforter as the heat radiating from his massive body causes my heart to thunder. He smells divine as a man should smell. His hand touches my head.

  “Poppy?”

  I open my eyes and see him lever his weight up on his elbow. Droplets of water shine on his forehead.

  “Show me your back,” he orders.

  I turn my back to him, lying on my other side. He pulls up one corner of the dressing as his hot breath puffs on my shoulder.

  “Poppy, listen to me.”

  I nod. I should listen to him.

  “There’re rules, Poppy.”

  I nod again. “I’ll try my best to learn them.”

  He rubs his thumb against my cheek and then removes the dressing. He tosses it onto the floor by a rubbish bin that stands under the long, wide shelf holding a small flat screen and a kettle with two mugs. “One rule actually.”

  “That’s simple.” I turn over to face him.

  His eyes bore into me. “I want you to love me. Can you do this for me?”

  “I can. That’s easy.”

  I loved my hamster. That was very easy. I loved Sabine. That wasn’t easy, but I tried my best until I stopped trying. My dad?

  Stop thinking, Poppy.

  Jackson’s eyes gleam like he’s happy. I’m happy too. I can do something properly. I can love. I will love Jackson with my whole heart.

  “Sleep, you little fawn,” he says.

  “Fawns are cute.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Am I cute?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  His words do something to me. Heat surges through my veins and centres on my tummy. My core pulses. My skin seizes with fire. I raise my hand and trace the bridge of his nose with my finger.

  No, this is rude. My hand collapses onto the pillow.

  Jackson

  I run my finger up and down her cheek. She giggles and I barely stifle my urge to crawl on top of her and wedge myself between her thighs.

  I need to be fucking slow and gentle.

  My hard dick disagrees, but I still own him so I make the rules. Barely.

  Maybe I could kiss her? No, it’s too early. She could freak out.

  You hypocrite. We’re both naked. Is that being slow and gentle?

  “Sleep, Poppy.”

  She curls up into a ball and soon, the soft sound of her regular breathing settles in my ears.

  She is very obedient, so obedient dirty thoughts enter my head. I’d shove my whole length into her obedient mouth. I’d shove my whole length into her obedient pussy. Then I’d drive my dick deep into her obedient ass. She’d obey and she’d enjoy my cock.

  I lean over her and plant a kiss on her shoulder. She shudders in her dream.

  She’s tiny compared to me, but curvy in all the right places. A prefect little flower.

  I pull the comforter down, exposing her back. My brand looks perfect on her.

  My eyes sweep over her tit. Fucking hell. I need a cold shower.

  I flop from the bed, my fingers closing around my hard dick, and I start stroking myself up and down. Fantasies enter my head. Poppy is on all fours, and I’m fucking her in the ass. She’s hot and tight. Her globes are red from light spanking and sweaty from my hard thrusts.

  I tumble into the bathroom. Yep, I want to corrupt that little fawn. I want her in every dirty way I can imagine. My balls tighten, and I empty myself into the washbasin.

  Poppy

  I wake up and see Jackson sitting in the chair with his elbows on his thighs.

  “Morning, you little sleeping beauty,” he says.

  He’s dressed, and I’m not.

  I slip away from the bed with my back turned to him. I feel ashamed of my nakedness, but he’s taking me to a safe place, so I say nothing. I tumble into the bathroom and grab my bra and panties. I washed them with water and soap last night. The bra is still a bit damp, but I can manage. I pull on my clothes and brush my teeth.

  As I walk out, I see Jackson standing in front of the bathroom.

  “My ankle is much better today,” I say.

  “You sure?”

  I clutch his elbow. “That will do.”

  “Alright, let’s go then.”

  We eat breakfast in the café and then we settle ourselves on Jackson’s bike. The journey continues. Rain floods us around noon.

  Jackson stops and smokes a cigarette as I use the toilet at a petrol station. I return to him and he sits me on his bike.

  “Only two hours left,” he says.

  I nod. My muscles ache and I feel like I have a bad cold.

  We continue with our journey. I hold on to Jackson and I’m the happiest Poppy in the world even though my clothes are drenched.

  We’re friends. That’s a lot in life.

  Jackson

  We meander among the mountains as the narrow road leads us to my clubhouse. Fifteen minutes later, the road descends towards the wall of cliffs and a lighthouse rises in front of us. It’s my house. There is a white three-story building across the grassy ground. It accommodates the clubhouse.
r />   I park my bike among the boys’ shiny machines and help Poppy off.

  The ocean rumbles as furious grey clouds layer the sky. Two seagulls scream above our heads. The loud music coming from the clubhouse reaches my ears.

  I’m excited.

  Aroused.

  And focused like I’m doing club business.

  There are beasts inside the clubhouse. They’re my beasts, but they’re a threat to my Poppy.

  My fawn is just about to step into a cave full of predators and I’m ready to kill to keep her safe.

  The urge to murder circles in my veins. It mingles with pride. I own the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Poppy

  We enter a bar but it’s nothing like Tank’s bar. The décor is modern with the black and white colours of furniture illuminated by purple and green lighting. A motorcycle hangs on the wall. A fountain with a round mosaic pond stands in one of the corners. There’s a platform with a pole stuck in the middle and with a curvy half-naked woman wrapped around that pole, and two pool tables stand along one of the wall. I see two more women with their breasts exposed. They’re sitting on a biker’s lap, laughing and drinking beer.

  A woman who looks like a beautiful demoness is dancing on the bar top, her back turned towards an enormous glass cabinet with bottles of liquor. She’s wearing a black corset and leather trousers stuffed in knee-high boots. The music hurts my ears. The smell of tobacco makes my stomach twist. Tears prick my eyes.

  My glance darts towards a woman with blonde hair. She’s on her knees and has her mouth wrapped around a biker’s penis. I know this activity is called a blowjob.

  It is definitely not like Tank’s bar.

  Suddenly, it’s quiet like we’re in the eye of a hurricane. Chills go down my spine. All eyes turn to us. A young biker with long blond hair, intensely blue eyes, and an unshaven face moves closer to us. A bottle of vodka swings in his hand. The demoness flops from the bar top and walks over to us as her long red hair waves. Her emerald green eyes fix on mine.

  “Another club girl?” she asks as if she’s surprised.

  “No,” Jackson says. His voice is all warning.

  I don’t like the tone of his voice. His menacing appearance scares me too, and I start shaking. He looks like a stone cold killer.

  All the men here look like killers. Beautiful killers. No, like fallen angels.

  “Poppy, take your hoody off,” Jackson says.