Sadistic Master Bundle (BDSM Billionaire Erotic Romance)

by Dalia Daudelin

  Jogging up to the monster of a vehicle, I flash him the best smile I can manage. He's got a leather bag slung over his right shoulder, but it looks mostly empty. A patch on his left shoulder says “SONS OF SIN”, and underneath that is a string of outlined stars. Only one is filled in.

  “Where ya headed, l'il one?” He's got a hint of a Southern accent, but only barely. The bandana holds back his short blond hair, and even though its dark his eyes twinkle with an emerald, playful green. I check out his bare arms and neck and smirk. If Mom were with me right now, she'd nearly faint and warn me against going anywhere near this man.

  “He's got tattoos on his neck, Abby!” I can hear her exclaim in her thick Jordanian accent. “He's bad news, and I forbid you from even looking at him!”

  I hold back a chuckle. “I'm headed to Phoenix, or as close as I can get.”

  “Hmm,” he sucks on his teeth and strokes his blond beard with one hand, looking down the road. “Well, I'm headed past there so I suppose I could drive ya in and take ya a little farther after you rest a bit. What's yer name?”

  “Abigail!” I say, placing my hands behind my back and sort of bowing.

  “Mine's Chuck. Good to meet ya. Ever ridden on one'a these before?”

  “No, sir. To be honest I'm kind of scared.” I look down at the asphalt, blushing. It's probably too dark for him to see my face burning red. That's what I hope, at least.

  “Don't got a helmet for ya, unfortunately. You'll just have to trust me.”

  Well, I don't have much of a choice. I take one of Chuck's huge hands, and he easily helps me into the back seat. I swing my right leg across the bike. Chuck sits in front of me and settles in, revving the engine.

  “Hold on tight, and let me know if you need a break to catch yer breath or anything.”

  I wrap my arms around Chuck's torso, at least as much as I can. His stomach is rock hard, but he's still a huge man. The vibrations of the engine kick on and send an unexpected shock through me, starting right at my clitoris. As I squirm, I think I hear the driver laugh quietly, though I can't be sure. I bite back a moan and shift in the seat, trying to escape the sensation. No matter what I do, though, the vibrations keep hitting me and sending me closer to a state of bliss. Finally, I find a position that spares me from the feeling, just before I orgasm and make a real fool of myself.

  Unfortunately, the only position that works basically leaves me dry humping Chuck, with my pussy pressed against his lower back. If he notices it, he doesn't mention it.

  He presses his foot against the pedal and we speed off down the road. I try to enjoy the breeze running through my long hair. I even get comfortable enough to look up at the sky above us.

  We pass a few hills in the distance, the lights of some faraway houses flying by in a blur. Chuck slows down to point out the lights of Phoenix while we're at the apex of a big hill. It's still very far away, but seeing it brings me a sense of relief.

  “Ya doing okay back there? I'm not scaring you, am I?”

  “No, sir! This is pretty fun!”

  “Oh? How about this, then?”

  We jerk forward, going much faster now. I'm too short to see over Chuck's shoulder and check just how fast we're going, but it must be at least 90. There's a turn coming up that gets my heart pumping.

  “Fuck, fuck! Stop, go slower!” I scream, but he doesn't let up. We take the turn fast, just barely avoiding the metal fence on the side of the road. The turn makes my stomach leap and I grip Chuck's chest even tighter now. He chuckles and we slow back down.

  “Just wanted to show you could trust me, Abigail. I knew what I was doing. Let's stop off at this diner coming up, so you can relax. Ya might tear my vest the way you're grippin' at it.”

  We drift into the parking lot of the diner at around 10 pm. Chuck steps off the motorcycle before offering me his large hand to help me down. My legs are still weak with adrenaline and fear, wobbling a bit as I stand on the firm cement ground.

  “I need some food and drink to keep me awake. We have another hour or two before we hit Phoenix, and then we'll stop near the edge of the city to sleep unless ya have an objection.”

  I shake my head. It'll be nice to get a room and sleep for a few hours.

  “Want anything to eat? My treat.” He grins at me. His face, now that I can see it better in the diner's lights, looks a little weathered from sun and wind. I can tell he's kind of young, though. There's one deep scar along his jawline. Chuck is maybe 25, maybe younger.

  “I couldn't possibly let you pay for me, Chuck.”

  “Now you listen here, miss. I'm not about to let you pay for food here when you're already doing me a favor by keeping me company. Ya understand? Now tell me what you want?” At this moment he looks like a concerned boyfriend, trying to coax his girlfriend to eat. It's endearing, though it doesn't really fit the situation.

  “Chicken strips, I guess. And fries. And a soda!” I grin up at him. “I only ever really eat kid food, I guess. Is that weird?”

  “Nah, that's what I'll be havin' too. I'll order, you go ahead to the bathroom if ya need to. I'll sit us in that corner, okay?” He points to a booth next to two huge windows and beneath a dim light. It's probably got the most privacy in the whole building.

  “Okay!”

  With a skip in my step, I push past the bathroom door and do my business. As I sit on the toilet, I realize my clit is still throbbing. Damn. I don't want to deal with this in a public bathroom in a strange diner. I decide to just grit my teeth and bear it, wincing as I wipe myself at how very sensitive I am.

  As I wash my hands. I check myself out. I still look a damn mess from sweating all day. Running my fingers through my gross hair, I sigh. There's no chance of me looking good until I get a shower. I am so glad Chuck picked me up. He seems like a good guy, and he hasn't judged me yet. I feel safe with him, too, as weird as that is.

  Rounding the corner, I find some man standing next to the booth, in front of Chuck. They seem to be having a conversation, and from the look on Chucks face things aren't going well. His lips raise in a disgusted grimace that he barely tries to hide. This is the first time he's really seemed to be the badass motorcyclist that he is.

  The other man is wearing tattered jeans and a heavy leather jacket. His hair is bright red, his skin as black as the night. His shoulders are somehow even broader than Chuck's, and one of his hands is clenched in a tight fist. He seems as if he might throw a punch at any second.

  Chuck's eyes flick towards me, and something in them tells me to stay back. The other man notices his gaze and turns his head to me just slightly. His eyebrows is pierced. He has a fierce look of disgust on his face as he sees me, but then he turns back to Chuck.

  They talk for a few more minutes, and Chuck hands him something in a small envelope. They shake hands before the black guy turns around and walks up to me. As he comes close enough, he leans in towards my ear. He smells of whiskey and cigarettes and something else, something sweeter. “Be careful with that one,” the man whispers. He pushes past me, leaving me confused. I don't know what his words mean, and I don't really want to. I shudder as he exits the building, and then I sit across from Chuck in the booth.

  There's an uncomfortable silence. “Did you order yet?” I ask as I fidget with the cross on my neck.

  “Yeah. Food should be here soon.”

  More silence. It's maddening. What can I talk about? Should I ask about the guy? Should I ask what was in the envelope? Wait, I know! “So, what kind of bike is that?”

  Chuck looks up from picking at his fingernails, then out the window. His bike is under a streetlight. Its black paint shins.

  “That's a Triumph Bonneville. It's not the biggest nor the best, I s'pose, but it's a classic and not too fancy. Plus it isn't too heavy to pick it up if it falls, which is good 'cus it falls often enough.”

  “Is that your only one?”

  “Nah, I've got an old Harley I'm working on fixing back home. That one's a real beauty. Brigh
t red, too. I think you'd look good on the back of that one.”

  I blush, twisting some of my brown hair in my fingers. “Where's home, anyway? You live around here, in Arizona?”

  “Nah,” he shrugs. “I'm from California. Heading back there, actually. Had to drop off some stuff for the boss.”

  “Oh, I'm headed to California too!” I say, ignoring the bit about a boss.

  “Yeah? Maybe we'll be riding partners the whole way, then. Wouldn't mind taking the scenic route with ya. It's nice to have a pretty girl on my bike.”

  “Haha, maybe! We'll see!”

  The server finally arrives with our food. Both of us scarf down our fries first, dipping them in ketchup before doing the same to our chicken. Chuck drinks 3 sodas by the time I finish one of mine. Then he orders a second plate of chicken. “Ya want anything else? Maybe a dessert?”

  I look up the the server. “I'll just have a vanilla shake if you've got one.”

  “Sure thing, dear, I'll be back in a second.”

  We don't talk about anything while we eat. Chuck watches me eat some of my shake while he waits for his chicken to cook.

  “You want some?” I offer, holding out the spoon. He takes it from me, his fingers brushing against mine. He gets this goofy grin on his face once the treat hits his tongue.

  “Ain't had one of these in years.”

  “Really?” I ask. “How come?”

  A dark look passes over his face, but then it's gone in an instant. “Just swore off of it.” He doesn't tell me why. The tone in his voice is enough to stop me from pressing.

  “You ready to go? We'll ride through Phoenix unless ya got somewhere specific yer staying, or ya need to pick up something from a store.”

  “Riding through is fine. I think I'm about ready to get out of Arizona.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Never liked it much here, either.” He looks down at me, his face towering over mine. “Ya look cold, though.”

  “I'll survive.”

  “Tough cookie. Alright, come on.” He takes my hand and helps me back up onto the small back seat. I balance myself until kicks his leg over the bike. It wobbles before he can sit down. “See?” He grunts, kicking the stand for the motorcycle. “Damn thing's broken so bad a gust of wind could knock it over. Gonna fix that when I get home.”

  “Did it happen while you were on your trip?”

  “Yeah, some punk beat the shit out of it. Or, tried to. I gave him a stern talkin' to.”

  Something tells me he didn't talk to him so much as beat the hell out of the punk. Even though Chuck has been gentle with me, he has a faint scent of blood still on his clothes and his muscles have to be used for something. He's not a pacifist, I know that much. I'm not stupid.

  TWO

  Phoenix is beautiful at night, even if you pass through it at breakneck speed. Chuck refuses to slow down through the city, weaving in and out of the cars, leaving their honks far behind us. We even weave in front of a police car, who doesn't even flash his lights at us.

  Growing more confident in his driving, I allow myself to look around and enjoy the sights. The tall buildings and the night life. Maybe it isn't as interesting as Vegas, but the junkies and gangs out at night are much more intriguing when you're passing by them too fast for them to touch you.

  In almost no time at all, we're passing through the suburbs and pulling into a small motel. It looks nicer than most motels, at least.

  We walk into the lobby, but no one's there. Chuck sighs and rings the bell. I rub my eyes as we wait, yawning and leaning against my new friend.

  Finally, a huge man with big coke-bottle glasses steps out from the back room. His gut barely fits through the door. Both of his arms are tattoo sleeves, mostly with religious tattoos.

  “Chuck! Good to see you again, man.”

  “You too, brother.” They shake hands and do that strange man-hug from over the counter. Chuck's big hands slap against the attendant's back before they part.

  “So the delivery went so well they let you bring home a girl?”

  Chuck gives a strained laugh and I blush, looking at the ground. “Nah, I'm just a hitchhiker,” I say, quietly.

  “Ahh,” the attendant replies. “Well, I hope you two weren't looking for two rooms. We're all booked and so's Charlie's place down the road. There's some kind of convention in town using the May Hotel, and everywhere is booked. I have exactly one room, but it's the biggest one in the place. Two beds, too.”

  Chuck sighs. I look from him to the attendant. I trust Chuck. Why shouldn't I trust him? I shrug and say “That's fine by me.”

  Chuck looks back at me, confused and then resigned. “Fine. Give the girl the key, I'll pay and chat with you a bit.”

  The fat man hands me the key and tells me where I can find the room. Stepping outside, I run up the stairs, excited to throw my bag off my back and get a shower. Opening the door, I assess the situation.

  Two twin-size beds, they look comfortable enough. One bathroom with a big tub and shower. A TV with a few channels. Checking my phone, I use the free Wi-Fi to check the news and catch up on some of the blogs I like to read.

  The clock tells me Chuck's been gone for a half hour. I unzip my bag, pulling out my only clean outfit. It's a skirt and a tiny tank-top that clings to my body. This will be great to wear while on that motorcycle, I think to myself as I roll my eyes. Oh well.

  Then I pull out my pajama pants and a sports bra that I'll wear to sleep. Finally in the privacy of the bathroom, I get to really inspect myself. I've already lost a little weight on this trip. Maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as I thought it might be.

  If I were home right now, my belly would be full of Mom's food and I'd be laying lazily on my huge bed, watching TV. Instead I'm dirty as hell, with greasy hair and sand in my panties, riding on the back of a motorcycle with some dude I don't even know. What the hell was I thinking?

  Still, I have not once felt unsafe with Chuck. He seems a lot softer, nicer than most of the people you see riding motorcycles. How did he end up in a gang like that? Maybe I don't want to know.

  Pulling off my panties and brushing away some of the sand, I run my hands through my pubic hair. It brings the nerve endings in my skin to life, reminding me of how horny I've been all day. Damn, the back of that motorcycle really does make a girl wet. Chuck, too. The way he helps me off the motorcycle by basically picking me up off the bike with one arm... he's so strong. And so handsome.

  I check that the water's hot and then step into the shower. With it beating at my back and warming me up, I bury my hand into my mound and bite my bottom lip. I don't normally masturbate, but damn I really need to before I get back onto that bike!

  My mind searches for someone else to think about, but all I can imagine is Chuck bending me over that machine, flipping up the skirt I'm going to wear, and taking me from behind. My mind flips to him taking me in the ass, too, which sends of shock of excitement through my body and I let out a small moan.

  My fingers rub up and down my pussy, playing with my outer labia before dipping into the cleft. Oh yes, I have been wet all day. Even without the water touching it, I'm totally slick down there. I wish I could be doing this while on that big bike, rubbing my pussy while feeling the vibrations.

  I lean against the wall, pushing one of my legs against the tub to open up my pussy. A sudden flash of Chuck's body makes my clit twitch. In my mind, I watch him undress, taking off his sandy shirt first. Oh, nice abs! Then he unbuckles his jeans, unzipping them before pulling them down. I stick a finger into my hole, gasping at how good it feels.

  Then his underwear comes off, and his dick is soft but it still hangs well down his thigh. I pump my finger in and out of my hole, using my other hand to frig my clit. My imagination shows me Chuck taking his soft cock in his hand and pumping it. It grows slowly, filling with arousal, until it's almost comically large.

  And then he's coming towards me. I imagine him taking me and laying me down, pushing a stran
d of my hair away from my face. His beautiful green eyes look into mine with desire and love. I'm getting so close to cumming that I stick a second finger into myself.

  BOOM.

  An awful sound comes from the other room. I jolt upright again, nearly falling down. My body is shaking with the unresolved orgasm, or maybe just because the sound scared the fuck out of me.

  I turn off the water and step out. I wrap a small towel around my body, though it leaves some of my skin showing, and open the door. I hear Chuck yelling. I should go see what's wrong, maybe he needs my help!

  I guess that's kind of ridiculous, I'm sure he could handle himself without me. Still, I walk out of the bathroom and find Chuck on the phone and nursing his hand. The wall next to him has a huge dent in it.

  “What the FUCK d'ya mean you won't be coming out?” Chuck screams. “What am I supposed to do with this stuff?” He gestures towards his bag and pauses. I guess he doesn't realize I'm behind him yet. I can hear someone else on the other end of the phone, someone who's yelling at him.

  Chuck cuts the other guy off, barking into the phone a curse word. “You've made the wrong enemy, buddy. You just fucking wait until I find you and that asshole president you have. I'm going to bury a my boot so fucking far up your ass-” His voice is low now, very different from how he speaks to me. The energy around him seems to swirl with pure hatred. I suddenly realize it might be better if I turn around and finish my shower.

  Before I can do that, though, Chuck lets out a huge roar that stops me in my tracks. He throws his phone against the wall, shattering it. He whips around, his eyes scanning for the door before he sees me, trembling and falling out of my towel.

  The expression in his eyes is dangerous. I back away from him slightly, and my movement seems to bring him to life too. He rushes at me like an animal attacking, grabbing my arms and pushing me backwards. I try to cower away from him, hoping he won't hurt me, but he slams me up against the wall.