Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Self-preservation kicked in and she struggled against his hold, sinking her teeth into his arms and screaming again. He slammed her onto the bed. She bounced up, her heart almost pounding out of her chest and her oxygen slowly seeping away all over again. Still, she managed to butt into his shoulder and knock him back.

  “Fuck.”

  The moment her feet hit the floorboards, he grabbed her by the shorts she wore. By the time he got her back onto the bed, they were halfway down her legs. A belt lashed against her back.

  “Move again and I’ll beat you with this belt until you’re unrecognizable.”

  Another sob escaped her. Cee Cee yanked her shorts off and glared at her. “Sit fucking up and take off your goddamn shirt. I have to put you fucking back together when I’m through fucking you and send you home to your cunt of a mother.”

  Home. He intended to send her home. He’d rape her, but she’d return to Mama.

  She sat up, her hands shaking, and pulled off her brother’s Tee-shirt, leaving her naked, vulnerable, more frightened than she’d ever been. But he’d send her home and Christopher would fix this for her.

  “To your knees.”

  Obeying him, Zoann willed away her desire to cover her breasts and vagina with her arms and hands. From the age of fifteen, she’d been shaving her pubic hair, but the way he stared at her private area made her think she’d done something wrong.

  He pulled her nipple before bending his head and tugging it into his mouth, suckling her. Not hard.

  “Relax,” he said, like it was easy to do.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, gasping when he licked her nipple. Sensation streaked through her and she flinched. “I don’t want to do this with you.”

  He raised his head. “Am I hurting you?”

  “N-no. That isn’t the point, though.”

  “Shhh…” He pressed his fingers against her clitoris and she jerked. No one had ever touched her there. She touched herself, remembering the nuns deeming masturbation a sin. To them, everything was a sin. It shocked her they didn’t think breathing would send someone to hell.

  “Touch me while I touch you.”

  When she didn’t comply, he grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his penis. Keeping his hand over hers, he tugged his length, his other hand still working between her legs.

  “Lie back.”

  Sucking back the last of her tears, her mind focused on the moment when she could leave, so she listened. This…she didn’t know what this would be called. He was forcing her but not really forcing her. Both arousal and fear consumed her.

  He crawled between her legs and opened them, rubbing his penis against her seam and staring into her eyes. She wished this was Val. That it wasn’t made her tense again and he scowled at her.

  Rearing back, he rested on his heels and gave her a crooked grin. “I promised I’d make you feel good, huh?”

  From his earlier actions, he expected an answer so she nodded.

  “Open your legs wide.”

  She prayed this ended quickly. Squeezing her eyes shut, she spread her thighs. A moment later, she hissed in a breath, the long lick he gave to her both shocking and embarrassing. Her eyes flew open. Another lick. She trembled, feeling the sensation to the tips of her nipples and in the core of her belly.

  His tongue moved faster and faster. Zoann groaned, her body melting at the way Cee Cee used his mouth on her. She pretended it was Matthew, just as they’d discussed. She twisted, not wanting the orgasm building inside of her, but the way he used his mouth…She cried out, shaking, her release stealing her breath and still he licked her until she begged for mercy, her back arching at the pleasure of it.

  He finally moved from between her legs and she closed her eyes, curling up. How would she ever face herself in the mirror after this?

  “You little slut,” Cee Cee snarled.

  Her eyes flew open just as his fist flew toward her belly, the hit knocking her off the bed. Her arms flailed and she landed with a hard thud on the floor. He followed her down, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet, before shoving her back onto the bed.

  “You’re just like every other bitch I’ve fucked. Telling me no then coming on my tongue.”

  He hit her across her face and she cried out, raising her arms to shield the blows, but he gripped her hand and twisted until the bone in her wrist snapped. She screamed.

  “Not feeling so fucking good now are you?”

  Zoann moaned, sweat popping off her cold skin, pain rolling through her. He’d broken her wrist, the agony affecting her entire body. Too busy crying over the aching, the feel of his fists hitting her cheeks, forehead and lips shocked her away from the bone break and catapulted her into even worse pain.

  A blow landed against her eyes and she shook her head, denying the screaming agony.

  He rose above her. “Suck me. You know how to fucking do that, don’t you?”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and burned her open skin, stealing her ability to speak.

  “Do you?” he asked in a soft voice, all the rage from moments before gone. He rubbed his fingers over her bloody face. “Zoann?”

  “N-no.”

  “My poor, innocent honey.” His hands touched her mouth. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

  Too afraid to do anything else, she complied, reflex making her gag when his penis hit the back of her throat. By accident, she bit down.

  Cee Cee hissed in a breath and fisted her hair, pumping in and out of her mouth. “Bite me again,” he moaned.

  She hated the taste and feel of him against her tongue. He was nasty and gross.

  “Bite me again,” he ordered.

  She did and he howled. Fear rose up in her. He’d kill her. He’d…he slammed against her throat again.

  “Your lips are made for sucking,” he got out. “Did I tell you that, babe? Dicks were meant to go in your mouth.”

  Although he didn’t ask her to, Zoann bit him again, just wanting this over with. He trembled against her, but stilled, his hand on the top of her head, holding her in place. Semen gushed into her mouth.

  “Swallow for me, pet.”

  More tears slipped down Zoann’s cheeks as she followed his orders, wanting to vomit.

  He pulled out of her mouth and Zoann bowed her head, sobbing quietly.

  “I should fucking kill you for sucking dick like you do. Maybe, cut off your fucking head and fuck your mouth as much as possible.”

  “I fucking hate you,” she snarled, so angry at her helplessness, her innocence floating away with every word he spoke. “You cut off my head and I’ll haunt you and find a way to bite your dick off.”

  He glared at her a moment longer before laughter boomed from him. He was a true madman. She wouldn’t live. He’d kill her.

  Covering her mouth with his, he slipped his tongue in and kissed her as if they were lovers. His fingers pressed between her legs and stroked her.

  “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. I’ve got to make you come on my tongue again.”

  Zoann inched back and grabbed his arms. “No. Please,” she said, terrified of what he’d do to her if she had another orgasm. She didn’t know how to stop the pleasure from rocketing through her body.

  He licked her lips. His mouth smelled and tasted like her and Zoann shuddered, not knowing how and what to feel. He was making her respond to him, then punishing her.

  Laying beside her, he pulled her on top of him. “You suck my dick while I gobble your pretty cunt.” She hesitated and he narrowed his eyes. “I can get on the fucking top and pound into your mouth until I break your fucking face.”

  Not giving him a chance to do it, Zoann scrambled on top of him.

  “Turn over and sit on my face, sweetheart. After you ride my mouth a little bit, you’re going to stretch out and suck my dick while I continue eating you.” He raised his head and gave her a long, lingering kiss, tangling his fingers through her hair. “That’s why I’ve been itching to fuck you. I knew you’d be a ho
t little bitch in bed. Once I break you in, I’m going to fuck you all the time.”

  Matthew’s face rose into Zoann’s head and she began to cry again, not meaning to. She’d wanted this with him. She’d—

  Cee Cee grabbed her throat and threw her down next to him, then straddled her and shoved his penis back into her mouth.

  “You don’t fuckin’ want me, do you, slut? I’m not handsome enough? My dick ain’t big enough? What’s with you fucking bitches that all of you fucking resist me after I show you how to fuck.”

  He pumped fast and furious, finishing in her mouth just as he stopped his rant. He sat back on his haunches, his mean look sending shivers through her. Whatever brief mercy he’d shown her had ended.

  “Cock sucking little whore,” he snarled, low and furious.

  Before she could swear she’d never do that again, movement caught her attention and she attempted to roll clear of his punch. He straddled her thighs, ignoring her defensive blows, and hitting her everywhere before he stopped and moved away.

  Her respite didn’t last long. The belt lashed through the air and stung her breasts and belly, before landing on her vagina so many times she swore she’d be ruined forever.

  Unable to bear anymore, she reached out blindly. “Please stop. Please!”

  One more blow and then he halted, leaving her body so very cold, though pain flared through her in hot waves.

  “You liked to have your pussy licked?”

  “No,” she sobbed, hoping she answered right. She’d die if he beat her again.

  A few moments passed, then he climbed onto her and settled between her legs. She tried to open her eyes. Maybe, they were opened and she couldn’t see because he’d blinded her.

  He thrust into her, tearing into her body.

  Zoann screamed with each hard drive into her. He’d already hurt her there with the belt. Now, he ripped her insides out with his penis, slamming into her over and over. It went on forever but he finally stiffened and grunted before trembling and collapsing on top of her.

  The sudden removal of his weight allowed Zoann a moment to draw in air. Every inch of her hurt. She held onto consciousness, but voices kept her awake. God, who else was there? Were they going to rape her, too?

  “Fucking kill you…”

  “Won bet…”

  “Zoann…Christopher…”

  “Kill that motherfucker…”

  “Carried away…”

  Words. Nothing more. Through her haze, none made sense to her.

  She sobbed again. She’d never get to say her speech at graduation. She’d worked so hard to be amongst the top in her class. She’d never see Mama, Christy, Granddaddy and Fee again.

  She was dying. And she was dying with Christy angry at her.

  “Christy,” she managed around more tears. “I-I love you.”

  As she closed her eyes, unable to hold on anymore, she prayed, one day, she’d see her beloved Christy again.

  Chapter Four

  The sound of weeping cut through the fog in Zoann’s head and the pain in her body. She groaned and drew in deep breaths to control her pain, but everything hurt so bad, most especially her vagina. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and she hiccupped.

  “Zoann?”

  She licked her dry lips and squinted, seeing the foggy outline of her mother. “Mommie?” she murmured, starting to cry all over again. She wanted to pretend she didn’t know what happened to her. But she’d always know. For the rest of her life. “He hurt me.”

  The bed dipped and, a moment later, Patricia drew Zoann into her arms and rocked her, sobbing along with her. “Shhh,” she whispered, her trembling fingers stroking Zoann’s hair. “It’s okay.”

  Momma would make it okay and so would Christopher. He’d hurt Cee Cee for hurting her. She’d have to humiliate herself and tell her brother just why Cee Cee beat her so bad, but Christopher wouldn’t judge her. He never did. He only loved and protected her. Clinging to her mother and breathing in her familiar, cinnamon scent, Zoann sniffled. “I want Christy.”

  “Christopher left yesterday,” Patricia responded in a raw voice.

  “Wh-where am I?” she asked, although logic told her she lay in her room at her mother’s house. No other reason Momma would be there, enfolding her in the warm safety of her arms.

  “Home. You’ve been home since Joe brought you early yesterday morning.”

  “C-call the p-police,” she said in a broken whisper, unsure how she’d live with herself. If she didn’t report this, that man might hurt someone else.

  Patricia stroked her hair. “I will.”

  Before Zoann spoke again, the hinges on the door creaked as it swung open.

  “Go cook Bitsy some chicken soup, Patty.”

  Big Joe. A shudder ripped through Zoann and she clung tighter to her mother, her wrapped hand and wrist throbbing. He’d gotten to her before Cee Cee hurt her anymore. She hadn’t known then, but now she remembered hearing his voice. God, he’d seen her with no clothes on and she’d never been naked in front of any man in her entire life.

  “Joe, please,” Momma cried. “I can’t…let me stay…please.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not leaving her. She needs me. I know what she’s going through and—“

  “I want to keep her from going through all of what you did. We need to get her well to get her back to school so no one asks questions. I don’t fucking need to deal with motherfucking school officials.”

  “No,” her mother protested again, tightening her arms around Zoann and kissing the top of her head. “We need to report this—“

  A growl. “Fuck, Patricia—”

  “I’ll take her for you, Boss,” another man breathed.

  Zoann swore her imagination tricked her. That sounded like Rack and…and…

  Rough fingers touched her and a scream pealed through the room. Not her scream, she realized when she heard the snarled, “Get away from her, asshole, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

  Momma? Momma didn’t curse and she didn’t use that tone of voice. Breathing in deep, Zoann tried to focus but saw only vague shapes. She felt, though, and heard her own whimper at being torn from Momma’s arms.

  A gun cocked.

  “If you don’t put her the fuck down, motherfucker, I’m blowing you the fuck away. Hate to do it in front of Patty and Bitsy, but I sure as fuck don’t remember giving you the fucking order to touch either of these fucking bitches.”

  Tension bunched Rack’s body, but he didn’t release her. Zoann’s eyes slipped closed. She searched for the darkness again. Anything to take this all away. Her mother had fallen silent, except for the occasional weep, and it took everything in Zoann not to beg and plead to just let Patricia hold her again. She neglected something important, a vital fact Big Joe and Momma needed to know, but she just didn’t have the energy to wrap her mind around it.

  A door slammed and the world around her went silent. For a moment, Zoann believed she’d slipped back into unconsciousness, until she felt herself in motion and the softness of her pillow beneath her head again.

  “Come back in five minutes, asshole. Bring a glass of water and a plastic bag in case she throws up.” Big Joe sighed, and Zoann didn’t like that sound at all. “This is going to be a long fucking day.”

  “What about the cunt out there?”

  “Rack, I swear one of these fucking days I’m going to step the fuck out the way when Christopher wants to paint the fucking walls with your fucking blood.”

  Her bed dipped again and a hand flattened against her belly. She gripped Big Joe’s wrist with her good hand. “Please.”

  “Get the fuck out, Rack,” Big Joe growled.

  “Your dick’s hard for her, too,” Rack accused before her bedroom door slammed hard enough to make her head pound and her eyeballs hurt.

  The Dwellers’ President shoved whatever she wore—a Tee-shirt?—above her waist, ignoring her fingers still clamping his wrists. Just dragging them with him
as he hooked a finger inside her panties and yanked them down.

  He sucked in a breath. “Fucking barbaric motherfucker,” he muttered, as if he spoke to himself. As if she hadn’t started sobbing with some hysteria threaded through. “Should’ve killed motherfucking Cee Cee when I had the fucking chance.”

  Abruptly, his hands left her and Zoann stopped moving. Big Joe intended something awful for her, too. She shook with fear, unable to suck back her tears. She’d tell on all of them. Christopher would get her, Momma, and their sisters away and then he’d make them all pay, she vowed.

  Big Joe’s boot falls clunked against the old, wooden floor. “Bitsy, nod if you hear me.”

  Swallowing, Zoann nodded, determined to stay alive to make them all pay.

  “You probably won’t ever fucking forgive me for what I’m about to put you through and that’s fucking okay. You have your whole fucking life ahead of you. Don’t want you knocked up because two dirty motherfuckers put their evil together. Can’t seem to get around that motherfucker making bitches pop out kids.” He sighed. “Just ignore me, babe. Ramblings of a tired, old fucker.”

  He sat next to her again and pulled her to a sitting position. Zoann’s head lulled back.

  “You’re Christy’s sister and John Boy’s cousin.” He shook her when she didn’t respond. “Aren’t you?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “I need you to suck this shit up then. We’re going to put you the fuck back together and you’re going to pretend this shit never fucking happened. That means no fucking police.”

  She shook her head and sobbed. She had to report this. “Christy. Christopher,” she amended. “I want to talk to him.”

  Her voice sounded so scratchy, a telling indication of just how much her throat hurt.

  “You will,” Big Joe swore, then drew in another deep sigh. “Poor fucker. Just one more thing to put on his shoulders. No wonder he demanded I send him on the run so he wouldn’t have to put up with your bullshit graduation. He’s just too fucking loyal to tell you how the fuck much you annoy the fuck out of him.”

  Big Joe’s words reached her through her dizzy fog and she wanted to bare her teeth at him. Liar. Christy loved her, had always loved her, and would always love her.