Beauty & The Biker: A Dark Fairytale

by Glenna Maynard

  I make sure no one is following me as I dart down the hall quickly and into the library. This is more my pace. Taking a random book from the closest shelf, I relax on a chaise, hoping they are too drunk to notice I’m missing. Tristian was too busy ignoring my presence to notice when I slipped out.

  Surprisingly it doesn’t take long for Tristian to seek me out.

  “Did I give you permission to leave?” He appears mysterious and broody with a storm raging behind his eyes.

  I shouldn’t push my luck with him but I can’t help it. Something deep inside me craves his attention, whether good or bad. I WANT it. I NEED it. “I wasn’t aware I needed it,” I answer flippantly.

  He shoves my feet to the side but places them back in his lap once he is seated. His fingers caress the curve of my arch. “Weren’t you enjoying the party?” He presses a pressure point in the center of my foot. Feels so good.

  “Yeah, because your buddies fondling me and sniffing my hair is my idea of a great time. If you don’t need anything else from me tonight, I’ll just go to bed.” I try to move away but he is holding me hostage with the soothing tone of his voice and the touch of his caress.

  “I want you back at the party,” he tells me continuing to rub my foot tenderly. He is so confusing. His smile is more charming than that of the devil himself.

  I roll my eyes and turn my head. “I want a lot of things. It’s good to want things Tristian, but it doesn’t mean we’ll always get them.” I raise my brow daring him to challenge the truth of my words.

  “I’m not asking,” he warns, as his touch becomes rougher moving up my calf. “Give me a reason why I should send you to bed.”

  “I don’t like being manhandled and touched by strangers,” I confess knowing he will use the knowledge to his advantage, but I can’t stop myself from being honest with him. It’s as if he pulls the truth out of me with his eyes.

  “You’ll do what I tell you, or I will punish you.” He drops my legs and jerks me from the lounger as he stands.

  He takes my hand in his leading me back to the party, great. He’s going to make me pay for my honesty.

  We walk down the hall in silence. He squeezes my hand, his touch is so warm and inviting. I wonder if this how prey feels, mesmerized by the stripes of a snake before it strikes burying his fangs in deep and pumping you full of poison. He shoves me to the center of the room. “Take off your dress Isa,” he orders.

  I swallow hard, afraid to obey but afraid not to do as he says. Tristian hasn’t hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t either. When I hesitate, he pulls out a pocketknife and cuts the fabric from my body, stripping me bare for all of his friends to see. They whoop, whistle, and call out things I’d rather not repeat.

  Tristian watches me and only me like he doesn’t even hear the vile things they are saying about doing to my body.

  I wrap my arms around my body tightly attempting to cover my breasts and my pelvic area, failing miserably. I am on the verge of tears when he sticks the tip of the blade under my chin. “Drop your arms and do a full turn. Don’t be shy princess. Let me see you. Show me what’s mine.”

  “Fine,” I grit as one lonely tear slides down my cheek. I have never been so humiliated. No one has ever seen me naked other than my sisters when we were changing clothes or something. And now my body is on display for a room full of mean bikers who want to defile me.

  “Don’t cry, my Isabella.” He leans in closer and licks my tear.

  I shudder from the intimacy of his tasting my tear.

  The touch of his tongue on my cheek is like nothing I have experienced before. The rest of the room disappears as he pulls my arms away from my body. He steps into my space shielding the front of my torso. His lips linger on my cheek, only touching not kissing or tasting my skin.

  Right now it’s as if we are slow dancing in an empty room as he cradles my body to his. His hands roam over my shoulders, rubbing across my back and down to my butt. His mouth is still on me, searing my skin, with the tingle of his breath.

  “Good girl,” he whispers breaking our shared contact.

  Stunned at the sensual desire pooling between my legs, my eyes widen not wanting him to pull away and expose me once more to the others in the room I am well aware of once more.

  “Spin,” he demands and I do, feeling self-conscious of all the eyes that are on me.

  I can feel the heat of their stares against my skin. I turn fully, slowly, once. When I meet Tristian’s eyes, he seems pleased. And slips his leather cut over my shoulders. “Now they have had a peek and can continue to look but won’t touch.” He goes on whispering, explaining that they will see me as his because I am wearing his vest. The rules of his motorcycle club seem barbaric, but if it keeps their hands off me then I never want to take his vest off.

  I can smell his cologne all over it and I want to keep his scent with me forever. It makes me feel safe.

  Tristian surprises me pulling my panties from his pocket, bending down, slipping them over my feet, and sliding them up my legs. The way he touches me is tender, as I imagine a lover would do. But then he smacks my rear painfully hard and tells me to get back to pleasing him and serving drinks.

  If only he could see, I could serve him in other ways. He doesn’t have to be so harsh and cruel.

  Rain rolls her eyes at me and takes up a seat alone in the corner.

  With her out of the way, the party continues and I serve them their drinks without any more touching or groping. I am fully aware of Tristian’s eyes following my every move. The weight of his cut feels lighter on my shoulders, the longer I wear it.

  I continue around the room ignoring Rain and her daggered glare. She must be jealous I have on what Tris calls his cut. I feel her eyes piercing into my back with every beer I open.

  I can’t help but follow the heat of her gaze and meet her stare.

  She motions me over and I don’t want to go, but Tristian sees my hesitation, and tells me to take care of her.

  When I reach Rain her wine, she pulls on my hair again and sneers at me. “It will never work between the two of you. He was born to raise hell and you were born to turn heads. You aren’t meant to be a part of his world. You’ll never fit in with Tris or us.”

  Her words strike a chord with me. I wasn’t aware I was trying to fit into his world. I just want to make it through our arrangement and just maybe discover the memories Tristian thinks I have lost.

  “I don’t want to fit in with you or them,” I tell her boldly, ripping her fingers from my hair. “I just want to pay off my father’s debt and leave.”

  Her eyes narrow at me, confusion crossing her face.

  “And if you ever touch me again, you’ll regret it,” I snap at her and walk away.

  I am done serving these assholes when the atmosphere takes a heated turn. Some dude, I think his name is Briggs, walks over to Rain, pulls his cock out, and demands she sucks it. She doesn’t seem to mind either. My cheeks flush as she goes down on her knees and licks his flesh.

  I turn to leave and Tristian captures me in his arms. “What’s the matter princess? Never seen a man get pleasured before? I want you to watch.” He holds my head refusing to allow me to look away. When I close my eyes, he pinches my nipple forcing it to go hard. “Open your eyes Isa, do you like what you see?” His lips are at my ear teasing me with the tip of his tongue. He licks the shell seductively.

  Since he is back to playing his mind games, I press my backside into him before speaking. “I’d like it better if it were us alone, and me doing that to you. I’ve never experienced the feeling of having my tongue tasting any man’s cock.”

  He sucks in a deep breath. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest behind me. A hiss escapes his throat. “Is that what you want Isabella, to be my whore.”

  “I’ll never be any man’s whore Tristian.” I turn into him now that he has loosened his hold on me. Looking deep into his eyes I whisper, “I don’t like to play games. So if you start playing with m
e, you had better mean it.”

  “I know,” he says back swallowing hard.

  I slip his cut off my shoulders exposing my chest and let the leather slide down my arms freely. He grabs it before it hits the floor. His jaw is slack as he watches after me with a sexual hunger burning through his dark eyes.

  I look back at him over my shoulder and bat my lashes, with my lips in a perfect puckered pout. “I’m going to bed NOW. ALONE. Enjoy your show.” I throw my hand in Rain’s direction as another biker fondles her breasts. Doesn’t she have any self-respect or is this what they do? Does Tris share her with his buddies?

  I leave him standing, holding his cut stunned by my forwardness. Tristian awakens a side to me I never knew I had.

  The brave woman screaming to get out feels daring, and when I go to my room I leave the door to my room unlocked, something tells me Tristian will come in either way though. If he stays downstairs with them…with her, I’m done with all of this, whatever it is.

  Chapter 12

  TRISTIAN

  Isa fights back harder than I thought she would. Seeing her so eager to be touched by my hands is hard to fucking resist. When she walks away it takes all the control I have not to grab her by the hair, spin her around, and bury myself inside her pretty little cunt in front of everyone so they will really fucking know not to touch what’s mine. If Cyrus thinks he can get away with touching her and thinking about having her, he is mistaken. Motherfucker will pay for putting his hands on her.

  He’s drinking his beer laughing at something Tim just said when I ram my fist in his face.

  “Don’t you ever fucking touch what belongs to me!” I shout as he holds his hands up in surrender.

  “Fuck man, was just having a good time. You gotta admit a piece like her is worth getting knocked out for.” He chuckles and chugs his beer. He wipes his bloodied lip. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

  I don’t know what I was thinking parading her around in no fucking underwear. I wanted to break her out of her comfort zone but at what cost. Shit has me fighting with Rain and punching Cyrus. The moment her dress was off I regretted my actions. She is everything any man would ever want.

  It takes all of ten minutes before I am following Isa upstairs. My hand is resting on the knob to her door. I am debating whether or not to spank her ass for leaving the party without permission not once, but twice.

  I can just picture her standing in front of the mirror dressed in only her panties. My cock grows harder remembering how wild she looked moments ago. There was a fire burning in her eyes and fuck if I don’t want to get burned. Fuck! I need her more than the air I breathe or the legs that got me here.

  I turn the knob and her door is unlocked. She has defied me one time too many. Pushing the door open I step into her room and find her just as I thought, well almost. She is seated at the vanity brushing her hair.

  Her doe eyes don’t appear shocked to see me. Almost as if she was expecting me to come or she wanted me to. She says nothing continuing to caress her strands softly with the heavy paddle brush.

  “You keep disobeying Isa. I think you want me to punish you.”

  Her hand stills, ceasing the brushing. The corner of her mouth edges up slightly into a smirk that she is fighting exposing. She continues to brush her hair as I stare her down. I run my finger along her lips and down her throat until I reach her collarbone. Her hand stops, holding onto the brush tightly. Our eyes meet in the mirror, both of us about to combust from the heat smothering the air around us.

  I have to step back from her to catch my breath and breathe, her beauty captivates me and makes me lose control. One look from her and the hate I feel vanishes like dust in the wind. She has no idea of the power she used to hold over me. Hell she is still doing it now.

  When we were kids she always got her way with me. It’s taking all the energy inside me not to give her anything she wants. A beauty as rare and pure as her is a dangerous temptation to a man like me.

  I need to pull myself together. “Stand up.” She does placing the brush on the vanity without a word. Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she chews on her thoughts. My cock hardens as she turns to face me.

  Her taut brown nipples are calling to me, demanding to be sucked and caressed. But not yet. If I touch them now, I’ll never stop.

  “Get on the bed.”

  She smiles over her shoulder at me as she walks past me and I can’t help but smile back. Her smile could wake the dead. The day God made Isa he tailored her for me, from the inside out.

  Her skin is flawless, and I can’t wait to see it pink from my touch.

  Isa crawls onto the bed laying back on her elbows, knees dropped onto their sides. “How do you want me?”

  Just like that as I taste every inch of you.

  I have to close my eyes or I won’t be able to do what I came for and leave her. If she knew what I was about to do would she be so eager still?

  Picking up the paddle brush, I walk over to the bed slowly calculating every move because I can’t break. Removing my cut, I hang it on the knob of the bedpost.

  She notices the brush I am gripping and giggles. “Are you going to braid my hair and tell me a bedtime story?”

  “Something like that.” I smile again knowing this will be a turning point in our relationship. She will either accept me for the monster I am or fight her growing attraction to me.

  The mattress dips slightly as I take my seat on the edge. “Come to me and place your head face down in my lap.”

  She licks her lips thinking I am asking for head. Tonight isn’t about that though.

  Isabella and her dark tresses are on my lap, as I want, knees bent, ass raised slightly. I’d like her panties to be off for this so I can feel her skin to skin, but if the separation isn’t there I won’t be able to control myself.

  My hand rubs over the shapely curve of her bottom. She jerks slightly as my cool hand teases at the edge of her white cotton panties. Her hardened nipples press into the denim of my jeans. I want so badly to throw her down on her back and taste every inch of her skin and cover her body with my own.

  I gather her long, dark tresses in my hand and begin to braid her hair, so that it will be out of the way.

  “I was kidding,” she murmurs against my thigh.

  I mindlessly braid and she continues to talk. I’ve had plenty of practice taking care of the girls who dance for me in the past before I had Rain to do it for me. But taking care of my Isa is something else entirely foreign. She is awakening feelings in me I thought I had buried deep.

  I love the way her voice wavers when she says my name.

  “That feels so good Tristian. I have always loved having my hair played with,” she confesses.

  “Be a good girl for me Isa and I will play with a lot more than your hair.”

  Gripping the brush, I wield it as a paddle, it’s why I purchased it for her to begin with.

  Without warning I strike her bottom.

  Chapter 13

  ISABELLA

  The first strike is shocking so I don’t initially feel the burn but by the fourth my ass is on fire. I am on the verge of tears and begging Tristian to stop, when he caresses my bare back softly and whispers against my neck, “You did good Isa.”

  Why does his approval make me smile? Maybe I am just as dark and twisted as he is. A large part of me loves his dark romance. What does that say about me?

  His lips graze my spine in a whisper. The feel of his lips on me is magical. A soft moan escapes my lips as he presses his finger between them. I suck his finger hard unsure of what I am doing, but I think he is enjoying it from the growl that just left his throat.

  “Fuck,” he mutters. And I wonder would he make that same noise if it was his cock in my mouth.

  I bite down with my teeth applying light pressure and he pulls his finger from my mouth. He is leaning down his mouth inches from mine. “You’re playing with fire Isa,” he growls the words at me fighting to stay in control.

>   “Maybe I want to get burned,” I say trying to inch my mouth closer to his, desperate to taste his kiss.

  His mouth hovers over my lips. We are so close, the dull burning sensation of my spanked butt goes on the back burner as my desire to be kissed by him is front and center. “If you remember—you told me it’s good to want things.”

  He eases from under me and takes a small tube of lotion from the nightstand. “Apply this to your cheeks it will ease the sting.”

  The small tube is tossed next to me and he leaves without another word. Picking the lotion up, I twist the cap off and smell it before easing my panties down to apply the honey scented goop.

  Twisted in an awkward angle I rub the salve into my tender skin. I feel immediate relief as it soaks in. I want to be angry at Tristian for humiliating me in front of his buddies and for spanking me, but I can’t. I can’t even hate him for keeping me from contacting my father. There is an erotic tension building between us and I need more.

  When he touches me, it feels oh so right. My heart leaps up into my throat. I forget all time and that anything else exists. I wish he could really open up to me and lose all control. I can tell he is teetering on the edge and wanting to let go of whatever is holding him back. It cuts like a knife when he walks away from me, leaving me longing for things he won’t give to me.

  I know he isn’t the kind of man who will sweep me off my feet, but I want him anyway. I want to taste his darkness and bathe in it, if only to hold him close for a minute.

  Will his kisses be soft and sweet or rough and all consuming, this I yearn to know? Although, I am afraid to find out...afraid my heart will get torn out, because I am already so invested and infatuated, and I don’t even know him.

  He has been nothing but mean to me and I crave his attention.

  Even so, as mean as he is, I wish he’d kiss me once.

  With thoughts of Tristian’s lips, I pull my panties back up and try to sleep with confusion clouding my head.

  **

  Night has turned into day and I wake from a restless sleep. The vase of blue roses has been changed out, and there is a glass of water with two pain relievers lying next to it sitting on the nightstand. After I swallow the bitter little pills, it occurs to me he could be drugging me. I am so stupid. The man pays me a little attention and I am salivating at the mouth for more of his consideration. My butt cheeks feels sunburned as I climb from bed. I apply more salve and wait for the medication to help ease the stiffness I feel.