Biker Rockstar Billionaire CEO Alpha (Hers to Keep Trilogy Book 1)

by Violet Blaze

  “I didn't kill your brother, goddamn it, and even if I had, it wouldn't matter now. You want to get out of this place alive?”

  “Where are we?” Adelaide whispered, and I heard the first flicker of fear in her voice. Well, now, she really was human. Look at that. I sat back and cupped her face in my palm. She jerked away from me, but I grabbed her chin and forced her back.

  “There are cameras and mics all over this damn place,” I whispered as I put my mouth back to her neck, kissing away the beads of sweat tracing across her sun-kissed skin. “They'll be watching and listening to everything we do.”

  I continued kissing my way down Adelaide's throat, across her clavicle, between her heaving breasts. I tried not to enjoy myself, but fuck, I was still a red-blooded man and she was still a beautiful woman, and I couldn't seem to forget the pink plushness of her pussy or the warm, slickness drenching my cock.

  “So what, I just lie here while you fuck me and then we go on our merry way?” she whispered just before I sat back and smirked. The expression was a wicked lie on my face, but it was a lie that was going to get all our asses the hell out of here.

  I turned to her sister, Layla, watching as she shrank away from me in a royal blue dress, diamond earrings swinging from her lobes like pendulums as I smiled at her.

  “Don't be scared now, sugar. I'll take real good care o' you,” I drawled just before Adelaide's fingers closed around my chin and pulled my face back to hers. She kissed me hard and desperate on the mouth.

  “Leave my sister alone and I'll do whatever you want,” she said loudly, her eyes focused on my own, a fire raging inside of them that she didn't have to fake. “Please.”

  At least it looked like she might be taking this seriously, a necessity if we were going to pull this thing off.

  “Get up,” I told her, rising to my feet and tossing the keys in her direction. “And hurry. I got business to take care of tonight, and I ain't got time to fuck around.”

  Adelaide unlocked both her and her sister's ankle restraints and stood up straight and proud and tall, following me down the ornate hall toward a second set of doors. If she thought a quick struggle and a kiss would be enough to get us out of here, she was dead wrong.

  I led the sisters down a small hallway, the décor just as lavish and over-the-top as it was in the rest of the house, and straight to one of the Play Rooms, unlocking the door with the key the attendant had given me.

  “Inside,” I told them as they clasped hands and stepped into the room slowly, matching pairs of gauze behind their right ears. Just like I'd been tattooed, so had they. My mark was a membership stamp; theirs was a brand.

  “What is this?” Adelaide asked, looking at the towering dark wood posts of the bed with a sudden flicker of understanding and a flash of white-faced fear that was all too real. “What are you doing?”

  “You said you'd do anything I wanted,” I told her as I started to loosen my tie and unbutton my shirt, still smiling, still playing the part of the billionaire asshole that bought and raped women for fun. “So either you get your ass on that bed or your sister can do it for you.”

  “No, Laide, don't,” Layla whispered, taking her sister's hands in her own, tears blooming at the edges of her eyes. “Let me do this. I'm … more experienced.”

  “Jesus, Layla!” Adelaide screamed, tearing herself away from her sister and turning her face to mine. “Nothing's going to happen here. Nothing's going to happen to us.”

  I stalked across the room and grabbed her by the back of the head, tangling my fingers in her purple hair and yanking her face to mine.

  “You'll do what I fucking say when I fucking say it, you hear me? I own your ass now.” I reached up with my other hand and tore the gauze away from the fresh tattoo. Whatever drugs they'd given Adelaide had thinned her blood, and she was bleeding quite a bit. It beaded on the fresh ink, ran down the side of her neck and dripped across the full expanse of her breasts. “I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Dash Buchanan,” Adelaide growled back at me, her eyes closing for a moment as I trailed my fingers down her neck and found the satin strap of her gown, sliding it over her smooth shoulder. I did the same to the other side, dragging the dress over the swell of her breasts and hips, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of purple silk. “What do I have to do?”

  “The men'll be expectin' a show; they videotape this shit as collateral to keep the members in line and keep track of the girls.”

  Adelaide stared at me as I stepped back and examined her curvy body, dressed in purple lace and a thong, tall stockings and heels. Her skin was wet with sweat and her breath was coming in rapid pants. The way she was looking at me … I could see the relief written all over her face. Damn it, she trusted me too damn much. If I'd been anyone else here, Adelaide probably would've tried to kill me already.

  “Are you stupid?” I shouted, letting every ounce of frustration I was feeling come out in my voice. “I said get your ass on that fucking bed!”

  “She's a virgin!” Layla shouted and both Adelaide and I paled. “Please, please, please leave her alone. Take me instead; I'll fuck you right now.” Layla stumbled over to me and reached for my pants, but I snatched her wrists and gritted my teeth. This whole thing was going to hell, and the longer it went, the further it went, the more I wanted to kill somebody in a suit with a proprietorial grin.

  At least Layla had just done us all a favor.

  “A virgin, huh?” I said as I slammed her into one of the decorative chairs and grabbed the restraints hanging from the sides. This whole room was set up for what the others called play but was really just their euphemism for rape. Now, I could get into a good BDSM play session, but this wasn't that. It was masquerading as that, but it wasn't even close. “I didn't much care who went first, but you've got me intrigued now.”

  I strapped Layla into the chair and opened a drawer on a silver dresser, searching through the carefully laid items inside, each one lying on a bed of velvet like it was a damn jewel or something. I found a ball gag and slipped the black rubber between Layla's lips, tying it behind her head and standing up with a sigh.

  “Let me do this for you, Layla,” Adelaide said, her hands quivering by her sides as she stared into her sister's wide, frightened eyes. “I want to do this for you.”

  “Would you shut your fucking mouth?” I snapped as I stalked back over to her and grabbed her by the arm again. “This is your last warning,” I said, low and quiet in her ear. If we kept whispering like this, somebody was bound to notice something. These men were looking for any little inconsistencies, any reason why they might question a member's loyalty. “I'm going to fuck you, and I'm going to fuck you hard. Don't speak to me like you know me again. Fight me, scream, cry, it doesn't matter, but make this believable or they will kill all three of us.”

  I pulled back and threw Adelaide on the bed like I was pissed off.

  In reality, all I could think about was the word virgin.

  Had she been a virgin the other day? Nah. That just didn't make a lick o' sense. Why would she come to kill me, and then let me fuck her like that on the roof? There was so much blood, I suppose I wouldn't have noticed if she'd bled. And anyway, not all girls bleed their first time.

  Not that any of that mattered now. I'd ask her when—if—we were able to get out of here without anyone being the wiser. At some point, these men would find out that I'd let my Companions go and there'd be trouble. For now, we just had to make it through this.

  I'm sorry, I thought as we exchanged another long look, but this is how we're going to survive today.

  I pulled my tie off and tossed it aside, unbuttoned my shirt and pulled the fabric from my slacks. Adelaide laid there quietly for a moment, gears turning behind her eyes as she lifted her chin in defiance. And then she kicked me hard in the chest with her heel and rolled off the opposite side of the bed.

  I choked on the pain for a moment, a small spot of blood blooming w
here the heel had cut across my left nipple, and then I was tearing across the bed after her, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her away from her sister's chair, throwing her onto the bed as she flailed and kicked, teeth gritted in rage.

  Her fighting was half as impressive as it'd been on the roof, the strength bled out of her by these sons o' bitches. Something about that made me sad, but I couldn't dwell on it. I wrestled her onto the bed and laughed in her face.

  “Nice try, sugar,” I said as I bent down and took her mouth, shoving my tongue between her lips, tasting her rage and frustration in the kiss. “But unless you want something real, real bad to happen to your sister, you'd best play nice. I could call security in here and have them restrain you while I slit her throat. You want to see her die here tonight?”

  Adelaide stopped fighting, her body quivering with rage as I took a step back and unbuttoned my slacks, almost ashamed at the hard thick length of my cock as I freed it from my pants and curled my hand around the base.

  “Now, I paid good money for you, so get your ass down here and suck my dick.”

  When she didn't move, I grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to the floor, shoving her down to her knees as hard as I might've if I were serious about this whole thing. I'd given her a warning; it was the best I could do. Ingvar Dunham had wanted this girl for his own, and he'd let her go. He'd most definitely want to watch us play, and if he didn't like what he saw, things could get so much worse for me than just having the Weeping Bones Motorcycle Club on my ass.

  “This is my first time,” Adelaide said as she breathed heavily and looked up at me, my hand still curled in her hair. “I've never sucked a cock before.”

  Jesus. I had no idea what game she was playing, but I went along with it.

  “You think I give a fuck?” I snapped, shoving the head of my dick against her rouged lips. She opened up to me, but kept her defiant gaze on my face as I slid deep into the hot expanse of her mouth. And oh, hell, this wasn't supposed to feel good, but it did. So good. So goddamn good.

  My head lolled back and I dropped a second hand to her hair, holding Adelaide's head in place as I pushed my cock to the back of her throat. It crossed my mind that this might really be her first blow job, but we couldn't stop now. If we were going to get by with the bare minimum—as in, me not fucking Layla, too—then it had to be believable.

  I let myself relax into it, my fingers rough and cruel on Adelaide's hair. And damn, I really did like it rough, but only with a girl who wanted to give it to me. This one here … I thought about her face on the roof as I moved above her, the way she challenged me to tame her, the way she seemed to relish it. This didn't have to be as awful as the situation surrounding it. We were both into each other; that much was obvious.

  I'd treat her like a real submissive, and see what happened. Either way, this was happening whether we wanted it to or not, so we may as well make it as pleasant as possible.

  With the firm grip I had on Adelaide's hair, I pulled her head back and looked down into her eyes.

  “Put some effort into it,” I commanded, releasing her and taking a seat in the black brocade chair opposite Layla's, “or we'll have to see what your sister can do instead.”

  Adelaide crawled to me on her knees, settling herself between my legs as I leaned back in the chair, my slacks around my ankles, my fingers curled around the ornate wooden arms of the chair. There were strange figures carved into the wood, more of the TSR's mysterious symbolism that I didn't understand. Didn't want to neither. After this, I was going to have to get the hell out of Dodge and hope they thought I was too small of a fish to be worth chasing after.

  I moved one hand back to Adelaide's head as she wrapped her fingers around the glistening length of my shaft, leaning in close and swirling her tongue around the head.

  “Pump your fist,” I said, my voice low and thick and commanding, heavy with a heat that I didn't have to fake. Adelaide looked up at me, her gold eyes shadowed with dark liner, lending her gaze this sharpness that seemed to pierce straight through me.

  There was a split second there where I almost wished I really did own her.

  But if this girl were going to be mine, she'd have to give herself me.

  A woman as fierce and wild and strong as this, she couldn't be stolen—no matter what the assholes watching us from the other room thought about it.

  The toes of my heels dug into the floor as I leaned over Dash's lap, felt his strong fingers in my hair, his touch domineering and controlling but not cruel. No matter what I thought I might've seen in that alley, he wasn't a monster like the others here. As I cast my gaze up to his, my heart thundering in my chest, an icy knot of fear twisting my belly, I found that I almost … trusted him.

  The thought was as sick as it was disturbing.

  Trust him?

  He'd just paid five million dollars for me, raised his paddle and sipped his drink like he was almost bored with the situation. He'd let them drag me off the auction block and tattoo me with a brand like I was livestock; he let them do the same to my sister. Hell, the fact that he even knew about this place, knew that I would be here was disturbing.

  But when he said that these people—these fucking monsters—would kill us if they found out he was anything less than genuine, I believed that. There'd been a sharpness to his voice, an edge of fear. Right now though, his eyes heavy and half-lidded, Dash looked almost happy to be here.

  I put on a show like he'd asked, using my hand on the long thick length of his shaft, tracing the blue veins in his dick with my tongue. When he'd held me down on the roof, I'd liked it. I'd wanted more, wondered what it would be like to give into him, let him show what he could really do. The thought made me feel ashamed. How could I want something like that?

  But I was here and I was doing this, and there was no way out.

  Maybe if … I let myself enjoy it, it could end sooner and we could all get out of here?

  Inside, my emotions were like broken glass, cutting me up, confusing me. Logically, I knew there was a huge difference between the things I felt like I wanted Dash to do to me and what these men did to their unwilling victims here.

  In another world, another place, a different situation, I might've let him try to tame me, break that wild side of me down in the bedroom and reveal whatever was waiting to show itself from underneath. Even that thought scared me and I knew, deep down, that it was one of the reasons I'd waited so long to have sex. My own wants and needs were terrifying, and I was having trouble separating what I wanted from the depravity and corruption of this vile hell hole.

  So I was going to let Dash fuck me, do whatever he wanted to me; I was going to get my sister out, and then I was going to kill every last one of these people—the Auctioneer, the Mistress, the guard with the needle, the man with the goatee, all of the men that had bid on me.

  The Violet Assassin was coming for them all.

  Somebody had to do this or we all died, and I wasn't ready to leave this awful world just yet.

  “Jesus, you have no goddamn clue what you're doing? You really are a virgin, aren't you?” Dash asked, pushing me back and rising to his feet again. He took hold of my head between his hands and pushed his shaft between my lips, thrusting his hips against my mouth as I curled my fingers against his thighs and tried to breathe through it. He was thick and long, and each movement of his pelvis knocked him against the back of my throat.

  I closed my eyes and relaxed the muscles in my mouth and throat, letting him fuck me for the cameras, hating myself for liking this and wondering what it'd be like if we weren't literally in the pits of hell. If Dash had taken me back downstairs in his apartment and stripped me naked, commanded me into his bed, covered me with his body and guided me through the night … Fuck. Fuck. No.

  I was the Violet Assassin, and I was strong.

  I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do—especially not a man.

  They were all the same, weren't they? I mean, I'd always suspec
ted it, but the bikers back home in their leather cuts with dirty denim were just as bad as these assholes in their polished suits and shiny shoes. Men were men, no matter what level of hell they happened to crawl out of it. Some of them dressed up their rape and their domination in auctions and fancy dresses, but that didn't make it any different.

  I grabbed onto Dash, digging my nails into his ass as he fucked my mouth with a wild, aching frenzy that excited me. I found myself moaning around the thickness of his shaft, even as I hated myself for it. You're here; this is happening; he's trying to help you, so you may as well just enjoy it. The look in his face when he'd first leaned in to whisper in my ear showed me that he didn't want to be here anymore than I did.

  Dash groaned, his head falling back as an orgasm crashed over him, tightening his muscles as he drove into me and came hard against the back of my throat. The taste of his cum was salty and strange, but there was no room for me to do anything but swallow it, gasping for breath as he drew back from me and stared down with eyes the color of Kentucky bourbon, hot and burning and fierce.

  “Get on the bed and bend over,” Dash told me, his accent thick with desire, his dirty blonde hair slicked back and polished. It was strange to see him with such a clean shaven face and his full mouth in a humorless line. He played his part very, very well.

  I rose to my feet and did as he said, the taste of his cock still lingering on my mouth as I ran my tongue over my lower lip. My first time sucking dick and it had to be here of all places. But at least it was Dash in here with me. If I had to be anyone, it was okay that it was him.

  He slid the thong over the thigh-highs and off, leaving me in my heels and garter belt, the bra and stocking. My pussy was bare and—embarrassingly enough, soaking wet. I hated that, hated Dash for making me that way, for my body betraying me like this.

  He didn't comment on it, leaving me there on my hands and knees as he headed back to the silver dresser and came up with several items clutched in his fingers. My heart was racing so fast and so hard I could feel it in my throat.