Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

by Natasha Thomas

  Hmm, that idea has merit I think to myself. But Zara does have a point. I was the one who pushed her into buying the damn dress. My eyes all but bugged out of my head when Zara walked out of the change room with it on. It fit her like a glove, a very enticing fucking glove.

  Skin-tight from tits to just underneath her knees, strapless and exposing her beautiful ink, the dark purple color of it matches the current color of the streaks in my wife’s hair. I don’t have the first clue what fabric it’s made out of, other than it felt fucking good under my hands when I ran them over Zara’s ass earlier.

  I go to answer her, but Zara slaps her hand over my mouth stopping me just in time.

  “Forget it. Whatever you have to say is probably only going to make my non-existent panties wetter, so keep it to yourself. Now, where the hell are your kids? I swear if they’ve melted another ice sculpture I’m never letting them leave the house ever again.”

  There was a lot there, but my mind narrows in and focuses on one thing only. Fuck the ice sculptures, there are enough eyes and hands to watch our kids for a few minutes. And if not, then honestly, I don’t give a shit. That’ll serve the assholes who ordered them right after last time.

  Dragging my wife into the closest dark corner, I order,

  “Shimmy that fucking dress up and get down on your knees.”

  Zara doesn’t argue with me; she’s familiar with the tone of my voice and knows what it means. Unbuckling my belt, I unzip my pants and let them fall around my ankles so that I can finally free my aching cock. Like always, I went commando, so as soon as Zara is positioned between my spread thighs, I feed the head of my dick into her mouth.

  Sucking the tip into her hot, wet mouth, I close my fist around the base of my shaft and it stroke hard.

  “Take me all the way to the back of your throat, baby, and suck hard. I’m going to come in your mouth, and you’re going to drink every drop before you lick me clean. Got it?” I ask, grabbing a fistful of Zara’s hair as I guide her lips further down the rock hard length of my cock.

  Zara doesn’t speak, but she does moan. The vibrations of her mouth around my dick nearly pushes me over the edge and has me throbbing in anticipation at blowing my load down her throat. I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to hold off, wanting the intense pleasure she’s giving me to last.

  Lapping up and down the length of my shaft, Zara cups my balls in her small hand, rolling them gently as she bobs her head up and down in time with my hand. My eyes travel over her ass that’s tipped up and begging for my hand, which I’m more than happy to accommodate.

  Leaning forward I land a firm slap on her cheek, which also forces Zara to swallow my cock whole. She gags a little, and I pull back just in time to watch drops of my pre-come spill from the corners of her mouth. Collecting the thick, white fluid on my thumb and press it into her mouth alongside my cock.

  “Don’t waste it, baby. You know the only place my come belongs is in your mouth, pussy or ass.”

  Dutifully sucking my thumb clean, I feel the first tell-tale signs my release is close as I watch my dick tunnel in and out of my wife’s mouth. Her lips are stretched wide to accommodate my size, pink, and swollen just like I imagine her cunt will be when I eventually get inside her. That thought alone has my hand tightening around the root of my cock even harder.

  “Open,” I growl, pulling my cock out from between her lips and slapping it on her cheek.

  The first splash of come hits Zara’s tongue, and a tidal wave follows. Zara swallows every drop just as I told her too, and then bends forward to lick me clean. As much as I’d like to just stand here and watch, I don’t. Instead, I pick her up and wrap her legs around my waist.

  Even after coming hard, my cock is ready for more as soon as it probes Zara’s soft, wet folds.

  “Reach down and open your pretty pussy up for me.”

  “Oh God, Knight,” she moans as I slide my dick along her soaking wet slit. “I need you inside me. Now.”

  Her juices coat my shaft, dripping down onto my balls, lubing me up enough to slam into her in one brutal thrust.

  “Fucking hell, baby. You’re so damn wet.”

  “Harder. Fuck me harder,” my greedy little vixen demands.

  Grabbing one of Zara’s lush, full tits, I pinch her nipple bring it to a stiff peak before taking it between my lips.

  “Anything you want,” I mutter around the bud, sucking firmly to give her the bite of pain she likes with her pleasure.

  Her back bows, thrusting more of her breast into my mouth and I happily accept the invitation. I lick, suck, bite, stroke, and fuck her relentlessly until I’m sure I’m close to passing the fuck out.

  Just as I’m about to spank Zara’s ass for holding back her orgasm from me – she knows I hate it when she does that – her pussy clamps down on my cock, Zara screams into my neck and rides me until she’s milking me dry.

  After our breathing returns to normal, I let Zara slide down the front of my body and help her right her dress. Her hair’s messy, her lips are puffy from taking my cock, I can smell our joint arousal all over her, and to me, Zara’s never looked more perfect.

  *****

  “Where did you disappear to earlier?” My brother questions an hour later.

  “Same place you did three hours ago, I’ve just got better self-control than you do,” I grin, taking a long swig of the scotch Nate put in front of me.

  Smirking, Nate nods.

  “No denying it, brother. My control is fucking sorely lacking when it comes to my woman.”

  As if on cue, because God forbid I get ten minutes to sit down and have a quiet drink with my brother, a high pitch shriek echoes throughout the room, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before yelling and pandemonium ensues.

  Shaking my head, I stand up and look down at Nate.

  “Where are your lot?”

  Pointing in the direction of the dessert table, I spot who I’m looking for instantly and chuckle at the hell my little brother is in for later. Sugar and kids don’t mix, and by the looks of it, they’ve consumed a metric fuck ton of it already.

  “You are so screwed, man. Good luck with that,” I say, patting him on the shoulder and leaving him to it.

  Just as I’m almost out of earshot, I hear the grumbled,

  “Oh shit,” making me laugh even harder because I couldn’t agree more Oh shit, indeed.

  By the time I get to the other side of the room, Zara has our youngest, Carter, who’s eighteen months old, in her arms and is apologizing profusely to a girl in her late teens, early twenties that I’ve never seen before.

  “It’s bad enough that they let children come today, let alone children who are as horrible as yours,” the stuck up bitch screams. “Just look at what they’ve done to my dress. Not to mention, my shoes.” Sparing a glance at her feet, I notice the red stains on her otherwise white satin shoes and grimace. Yeah, I don’t think that shit’s coming out in a hurry.

  But my wife, ever the diplomat, kindly offers to have them and her dress cleaned for her and return them personally.

  “I’m so sorry, they’re just excited. I’m sure they didn’t mean to spill punch on you,” Zara lies effortlessly.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that one of my four demonic spawn absolutely did it on purpose. And if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it was my three-and-a-half-year-old son, Drake, who’s hiding behind his sister, Faye, who’s barely a year older but fiercely protective of him. The twinkle of mischief in his eyes, tell me everything I need to know; Drake is a dead man when his mom catches up with him.

  Signaling for them to hide – I mean, it’s in their own best interest, right? – I turn back to my wife and the obnoxious bitch who is still complaining about her ruined shoes.

  “These were nine hundred dollar shoes. Nine hundred fucking dollars. Are you going to pay to replace them if they can’t be salvaged? I highly doubt it,” she sneers. “Someone like you, with trashy hair, and even trashier tattoos w
ouldn’t have the first idea about fashion or the money to spend on half-way decent clothing.”

  Grinning at my boots, I instinctively hold my arms out to take Carter from her when Zara thrusts my son at me. My wife doesn’t even wait until she knows I have a firm grasp on our boy before punching the nasty bitch in the face, causing blood to flow freely from her nose, and drip onto the fabric of what I’m sure was an overpriced dress.

  Sneering at the now sniveling woman, Zara snaps,

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I could buy and sell your ass a million times over, bitch.”

  Talon, Kennedy and Cash’s twenty-year-old son, and newest Vengeance MC prospect steps up beside me and hangs his head.

  “She’s with me,” he begrudgingly admits.

  At his confession, I make a mental note to have a very serious conversation with the kid or his dad about his taste in women in the near future. Especially when I see the devastated look on my honorary niece, Violet’s face.

  Locke’s daughter, Violet’s unwavering devotion to Talon is so similar to how her Aunt Zara felt toward me that, at times, it physically hurts to watch Violet pine after him while Talon walks around oblivious to her. I’ve tried to broach the subject with Violet on multiple occasions, but every time I do, she shuts me down, professing that she’s fine and will get over her little crush eventually. But I know better.

  Violet’s feelings for Talon aren’t just going to disappear, if anything, they’ll only grow, becoming deeper and harder to ignore. I can only hope that her dad steps in before it’s too late and he breaks her heart. Although watching her now, I think that ship has already sailed.

  Slapping Talon on the back, I push him forward.

  “You best get a handle on her before my wife does, kid. Zara’s a handful on a good day, but when she’s pissed, my woman is fucking unstoppable.”

  “Unstable don’t you mean?” Nate chuckles, coming to stand next to us.

  “I heard that asshole,” Zara spits, narrowing her eyes at him. “Go and make yourself useful and find your nephew, please. If you think this is bad, wait until you see what Leo can do with a paper clip, a stick of gum, a lighter, and five minutes to waste,” she smirks, referring to our two-and-a-half-year-old son.

  Nate gasps theatrically at her reminder and spits back,

  “I thought we agreed never to speak of that again. I still have fucking nightmares about that day and what he did to my beautiful truck. Your son is an evil genius; you know that right?” He asks, not bothering to wait for her to answer, stomping off to do Zara’s bidding.

  Talon tentatively approaches the woman who is now standing a few feet away from Zara, cupping her palms under her nose. He reaches out grabbing a hold of her upper arm and turns her toward the door.

  “Kimberly, I think it’s best if you go.” Stuffing some cash into her purse, Talon instructs, “Call a cab to take you home and lose my number.”

  “Wh-what?” She stutters.

  Gesturing to the room at large, he growls low in the back of his throat.

  “These people, one of which you just called trashy, are my friends and family. They mean more to me than anything. You crossed a line today that, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no coming back from. So like I said, fuck off and lose my number. In fact, I’ll do one better,” he sneers, fishing inside her purse and pulling out her phone.

  Talon drops Kimberly’s brand new iPhone on the floor and brings the heel of his boot down on the center of the screen.

  “See, better,” he smiles evilly. “Now you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself when you call me dozens of times and I don’t pick up.”

  “I can’t…you just…oh God, you’re all crazy,” Kimberly shrieks.

  Spinning around angrily intending to stomp away, she collides with a pale-faced, Violet, knocking her to the ground. Not stopping to help her up or offer an apology, Kimberly keeps going but unfortunately for her, steps on Violet’s hand with her five-inch stiletto heel.

  Violet’s sharp intake of breath has Talon’s head whipping in her direction. Spotting her on the floor cradling her hand to her chest, he’s by her side crouched in front of her in less than a second inspecting the damage.

  “Show me your hand, precious,” he murmurs in a tone I’ve never heard from him before.

  “What the fuck? Why is my daughter on the floor, and why is he touching her?” Locke bellows, shooting daggers at Talon’s back.

  “Calm down, man,” I say carefully. “The kid’s just helping her after his date was a colossal cluster-cunt and knocked Violet over.”

  Locke’s eyes harden, but his body relaxes a fraction.

  “Get him out of here. He’s done enough damage already; I won’t have him fucking with Violet’s head again, Knight, I mean it.”

  I don’t know what the hell my best friend is talking about, but I’m relatively sure I can guess. All I can say is good luck to Talon and Violet because, with a man like Locke, they’re going to need it.

  *****

  “You owe me, Knight,” Zara whines, wiggling her foot on my lap.

  “Yeah, and how do you figure that?” I ask, not caring either way as I begin to massage her feet.

  Sighing with pure happiness, my wife snuggles into the couch at the opposite end from me, stating,

  “It was your big idea to have four kids in the first place, and then you went ahead and knocked me up all four times in as many times years, that’s why.”

  “Uh-huh,” I grunt, preferring to focus on the long expanse of leg she’s showing where her dress has ridden up.

  “Get your head in the game, big guy, and keep rubbing,” the little vixen demands, digging her toes into my crotch.

  “You keep doing that, and you’ll get it all right,” I caution her.

  “And I’ll give it to you, however you want it if you finally make good on your promise and tell me we’re done reproducing,” Zara counters.

  At the mention of her giving me free reign over her body, my cock strains in my pants and my blood runs hot. We’ve been having the debate about whether or not there are any more babies in our future for months, and while Zara’s been vehemently opposed to the idea, up until today, I wasn’t sure if I was done having kids or not. However, after the events that transpired this afternoon, and the shit our kids put us through on a daily basis, I’m convinced we’ve done our part for furthering the human race.

  “Done,” I mutter in agreement. “Now strip and do it slow. I want to watch,” I tell Zara, running my hand up her bare leg.

  Zara’s eyes sparkle with lust and her breath hitches at my command as she rushes to do my bidding.

  “I love you, Knight.”

  Pulling her onto my lap before she can get any further, I kiss my wife senseless.

  “And I love you, baby. More than you’ll ever know,” I rasp, only disconnecting our lips for a moment before picking up right where I left off.

  BONUS EPILOGUE

  ~ Faye ~

  “I’m always smiling because you’re my father. But I laugh because you and I both know there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  – Faye to Knight as he posts bail

  Seventeen years later…

  “Dad put the gun down on the table and slowly back away from my date,” I sigh. When will the boys who ask me out ever learn?

  “You aren’t in any position to be issuing commands, baby girl. As of right now, you and I are officially on a break,” dad snarls, glaring at Pierce.

  My dad has been calling his version of the silent treatment, ‘being on a break’ since I was three. Granted, there were times I actually deserved his wrath – which is generally delivered in the form of two-hour lectures, refusing to speak to me at all, or grounding me for a week and giving up after a day – but this wasn’t one of them.

  “Argh. Not again,” mom groans, coming to stand beside me.

  “Yes, again,” dad replies angrily. “Until these assholes learn my daughter
isn’t dating until she’s thirty, I’ll just have to keep doing this. So why don’t you make this easier on me and start telling them no?”

  “Um, because it’s a ridiculous rule and totally unfair,” I hazard to answer.

  I knew I should have kept my mouth shut when dad slams the door in Pierce’s face and spins around to face me. He looks furious, but it’s the disappointment in his eyes that slays me.

  My entire life I’ve worked hard to keep from having to see that look on either of my parents faces. I get good grades, and I do my homework without having to be asked. Unlike my brother, Drake, who’s a year younger than me but behaves more like a five-year-old. My room is always clean, I help out around the house, and for the most part, I stay out of trouble. Or, maybe I should say, I don’t get caught very often.