Bad Boy's Treat: The Possessed MC

by Amy Love

  “Hey,” she greeted, a little bounce in her step as she approached. When she leaned up to kiss him, he offered her his cheek, then made a note to discuss acceptable forms of public displays of affection. Fucking her hard behind a building was fine, but Gryff didn’t just kiss in public. Not unless it was leading to something more.

  “You ready?” he asked, grabbing her wrist instead of her hand, as he pushed away from the bike rack he’d been leaning on. When she nodded and licked her lips, he swore his cock twitched to life, eager to feel that tongue slide from base to tip before he slowly fucked her face. She’d need time before he could use her as he really wanted to, but every encounter with her was an improvement from the last. Law school might not have been her thing, but she was a damn good pupil.

  “Yeah, starving,” Beth admitted. He’d planned to take her out to eat then back to her apartment in the dorm. While the conversation hadn’t been something he’d put much thought into before, he now had every intention of grilling her about her dad under the guise of being a concerned and interested master. Her relationship with the man clearly wasn’t great, but she always seemed eager to discuss him. Good. Hopefully he could get something useful out of her before he turned his mind to other matters.

  More specifically, the ball gag in his backpack, and just how hard he planned to make her scream with pleasure, her mouth full and gagged, before the night was over.

  Chapter 10

  In his time with the Steel Phoenixes, Gryff had seen his fair share of dead bodies. Most of the time, however, they weren’t people he knew. They were just random assholes who had gotten in the way. Stiffs. John Does. The kind of hard corpses he had no problem dumping in a field or in a lake if it meant the Phoenixes wouldn’t be under suspicion.

  He’d only seen two dead bodies in the past of people he knew personally. Tonight, he’d seen four more, and these were guys he actually cared about. Billy. Zayn. Kent. Finn. Four young guys who were new to the MC but seemed like they’d be lifers. They got the job quickly. None of them gave lip. Each did as they were told, whenever they were told, and never asked any stupid questions.

  And tonight someone had killed them. Shot them. Micky had called him, just as he was about to head over to Beth’s, and after shooting her a quick text saying he couldn’t make it (and nothing more), he hopped on his bike and rode out to the crime scene. Things were still fresh, the bodies found in one of their underground clubhouses in the downtown core, under a convenience store whose owner took a measly two percent cut for keeping his mouth shut; the Phoenixes used the spot to store cash. Never a lot, but more than any one man would feel comfortable carrying around in public.

  The boys were there to guard it. That was their shift. According to the convenience store owner, a bunch of hooded sons of bitches wearing sunglasses and leather gloves descended upon the dirty stairwell that led to the basement door about an hour earlier. No surveillance cameras down there, as per the MC’s request. The owner had thought they were part of the club, maybe a change in shift, then panicked when he heard gunfire and closed the upstairs store immediately before contacting Micky. Some might have thought the old man was in on it, but Gryff trusted his loyalty—as did all the other higher-up guys in the MC. They let the owner go, telling him not to open for a few days, while Micky and Gryff investigated the scene.

  “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his expression hard, his eyes threatening to water, as he took in the sight of four bullet-ridden boys. Blood coated the walls, the floor, and the chairs of the table where they’d all probably been sitting. The money was gone, of course.

  “How’d they find it?” Micky said after checking the safe again. He stepped around the bodies carefully, skilled enough not to leave a footprint in the pools of blood. Both men wore gloves, hoping to minimize their presence on the scene. If they could get the clean-up crew down here in time, nobody would have to know, but there was no accounting for any other random fucks who heard gunshots and called the cops. They couldn’t stay for long.

  “Somebody must be talking,” Gryff said. His voice threatened to crack, his throat dry, stomach churning. “Unless the guy behind it caught wind that I was investigating the college.”

  “Who you been talking to?”

  “No one yet,” he told his old friend, shaking his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the bloody bodies. They still looked alive, their eyes wide open, mouths gaping like fish on land. “Been following up on the dean like you told me.”

  “Aren’t you screwing his daughter?”

  His lips twitched into a small smirk, and Micky let out a deep breath.

  “Careful, Gryff,” the man grumbled as he headed for the door. “Bitches talk.”

  “Not this one,” he assured him, following behind him. “This one does what I tell her.”

  Micky glanced back, grinning as if there weren’t four dead bodies behind them. “Oh, one of those, huh?”

  He shrugged, not really wanting to talk about Beth with Micky. She was separate from this world, from the Steel Phoenixes and bleeding bodies.

  “She and her dad don’t vibe,” he insisted, throwing his hood up as they pushed out into the stairwell and hurried up the stairs. It had started raining since they went down to investigate, something to wash away whatever footprints they left, but it was cold enough that everything would probably turn to ice before the night was over. Gryff crossed his arms over himself to ward off the chill. “When I ask about him, she thinks I’m being supportive. Doubt she’d even consider I’m looking for intel.”

  “Good. Keep it that way,” Micky said dismissively once they reached the sidewalk. Gryff clenched his jaw, but said nothing until his old friend said his goodbyes. The two went in opposite directions, Micky headed for his house in the suburbs and Gryff to his apartment on the south end of town. He wasn’t looking forward to sitting on a wet motorcycle seat, but that was the least of his problems.

  Sure, he’d been looking into the dean and his staff, but not hard enough. Because he’d been fucking around with Beth, four good guys were killed. Someone was getting the upper hand on the club, and Gryff was failing his brothers. It was time to get serious. Beth needed to go on the backburner, for now, until he got his shit straightened out. It’d be tough seeing less of her, yeah, but Gryff was a big boy. A fucking grown-up. He adored how easy she fell into the role of his submissive, but she was proving to be a bigger distraction than he’d anticipated.

  Just for a little while, it was time for a break.

  Chapter 11

  Can’t make it tonight. See you Thursday for our study date.

  Beth pursed her lips, studying Gryff’s most recent text before throwing her phone—gently—across the bed. It bounced on impact and flew over the edge, but when she didn’t hear anything crack or shatter, she sat back in her array of pillows and tried not to sulk. This was the third time Gryff had blown her off in two weeks. Sure, she should have been preparing for her end of the quarter exams, but she wanted to be with Gryff.

  She wanted to feel the sting of his palm, the pressure of his belt around her neck. She wanted to bite down on a gag as he took her from behind, trying desperately, and failing more times than not, not to climax as per his instructions. It had been too long since they’d been together, and she was just itching for another fix. Gryff and his kind of kinky sex had become her drug of choice, the only one Beth had ever deigned to partake in regularly, and she was aching for another taste.

  And it made her feel pathetic. To be so wrapped up in sex. In a man. She’d gone twenty-three years without having sex. Surely she could handle a few weeks only having it sparingly.

  If only she had nurtured some of her friendships over the years. There were a few people in her contacts list she could call and drag out for a coffee sometime, but she wasn’t really close enough with anyone to talk about her sex life. Most of her close friends, the ones whose friendships she’d forged in high school and would likely last the rest of her life, had gone away for co
llege and grad school, fleeing Blackwoods the moment they could. They had their own lives too, and Beth hadn’t been great about keeping in touch. They understood, of course, her close-knit group of scattered friends, because they were busy as all hell too, but she’d felt guilty contacting them only to whine about the guy who wouldn’t technically be her boyfriend despite her asking.

  No, she’d have to swallow the lonely feeling on her own. She’d have to deal with the anxiety that he was getting bored of her, that she wasn’t satisfying him sexually anymore, in silence. Bury a nose in her books, which she should have been doing all along.

  But she hadn’t been. Beth was hooked and Gryff was her salvation. Her world was bright and shiny these days, and every time he canceled, things started to feel a little darker again, a little more constricting.

  Now that her evening had freed up, she should have dragged out her shoddy notes and unused textbook and study for a Civics exam… but instead, she plopped herself down in front of the TV, phone in hand, and moped, hoping that Gryff’s plans would fall through and he’d show up out of the blue to surprise her.

  He didn’t.

  Chapter 12

  “Who were you talking to?” Beth arched an eyebrow as Gryff approached. She stood waiting by their usual table, her things packed up and ready to go, her stomach in knots. He’d been texting someone all evening, telling her it was no one when she asked the first time, and then had practically ran off like the hounds of Hell were after him when his phone rang. Maybe he just didn’t want to disturb the other library-dwellers, but he could have set his phone to silent if that had been the case.

  “No one,” he muttered as he began throwing his things haphazardly into his backpack. The same laptop. The same three textbooks. Beth frowned, but before she could say anything, he added, “Well, not no one, but no one for you to worry about.”

  It had to be a woman. Christmas loomed in the very near future, and the bulk of the Blackwoods University student population had fled for the holidays already. She stayed, of course, because home was only just up the street, and she preferred her dorm to her dad’s bachelor-esque apartment any day. Sure, it was huge. Yes, there was a room permanently made up for her, but she liked the freedom of having her own space. She’d visit for Christmas, of course. Probably New Years, unless Gryff suggested they do something together.

  If that was even a possibility anymore. He’d flaked on more dates than he kept these days, and she was starting to wonder if there was someone else in his life. Why else would he wander? They were both enrolled in grueling academic programs, yet he had no problem meeting her to study. It was the sex that had tapered off recently, and it was driving her crazy.

  Add that to the secret texting and phone calls…well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d probably found another girl to keep him entertained. Beth was just working her way up during their play together—he probably had a girl who did everything on the side. Or maybe Beth was the side girl. Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to let him go. Old Beth would have rolled over and let him drift, but the New Beth, the sexually adventurous one who skipped study groups to be with Gryff, wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

  Once he had his things packed up, they both headed for the main doors, her heart pounding at the thought of what she was about to do.

  “I’m not sure I can stay long tonight,” he said as the doors drew nearer. Nope. She had to do it. No backing out—this was the telltale word choice of a man who was about to flake. “I mean, maybe I shouldn’t even…”

  He trailed off when she grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of the bathrooms. It was a small, echo-y hallway that lacked the decorative spin the rest of the first floor of the library had. There was a line of payphones, doors to the male and female washrooms respectively, and a few vending machines. No art on the walls. Reception was always shoddy in here. Beth dragged him passed all of it, back to the shadowy area where the light flickered by the emergency exit door. They were alone here—alone but not. Public still, very public for what she planned to do.

  “Look, Beth you really don’t need to—”

  She silenced him with her mouth, pushing up on her toes to kiss him. He stumbled back, perhaps surprised, into a darkened corner, out of view of the rest of the empty hallway. It was empty now, but it wouldn’t be for long. It was one of two bathroom hallways on the main floor, which meant it would see a fair amount of traffic, even if there weren’t many students left using the facility this close to the holidays.

  His lips were hard against hers, his body unyielding. It wasn’t in her nature to spring anything like this on him. Usually he initiated their play, even if Beth knew it was coming before it happened. But if he could drag her off somewhere and fuck her over a bench, she could show him that she was just as adventurous.

  That he didn’t need to go running to someone else to get what he wanted.

  While she’d had him pinned to the wall to start with, Gryff easily flipped them and pressed her to the hard surface, grabbing a wrist in each hand and pinning them above her head.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed. Even in the dim, flickering lighting, she could see the want in his eye. If that wasn’t telling enough, he was starting to get hard, his hips pressed snugly against hers as he held her in place.

  “What do you think I’m doing?” she asked, adopting the soft sub voice she knew drove him wild. “I’m trying to please you.”

  “You do please me—”

  “But I want to do it now.” She pouted for effect, then rubbed her hips against his. His eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on her, and she swallowed hard, her sex dampening.

  “Little submissive sluts don’t get to choose when this happens,” he whispered heatedly. There it was. She had him right where she wanted him. There’d be no running out on her tonight, not without him remembering just how great they were together first.

  “I’ve been so good lately,” Beth offered, fluttering her eyelashes. “I thought I deserved a little treat.”

  He gave a soft, cold laugh. “Well, that was very presumptuous of you. I should put you over my knee for that kind of thinking.”

  She bit back a moan, clenching her thighs together to rub her aching bud, the thick fabric of her jeans grating over it.

  “Fine,” Gryff growled then spared a quick glance around the corner. When his eyes returned to hers, she let out a trembling breath. “Fine. You want a treat? You can suck my cock.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said, all but groaning when he released her wrists and stepped back, giving her enough room to undo his pants and slid to the ground. It would have been more comfortable to rest on her knees, but he didn’t give her the space—perhaps as a punishment—and Beth sat up on her heels instead, crouching. She didn’t mind. It’d be worth it, to prove that she was the girl for him.

  He was hard and ready for her when she unzipped his jeans, taking his cock out as if she were handling a rare artefact. Because in her position, she was meant to worship her master, and Beth was slowly learning to do just that. She’d never thought the sight of an erect dick would be so thrilling. Before, she’d never understood what the fuss was all about, but now she knew. Seeing any part of Gryff was exciting, but being able to touch him most intimately, in a place where no one else—in theory—could touch him, was an honor. A thrill. It made the moisture between her legs grow, her underwear wet and her pulsing sex slick with need.

  She tasted him first, a gently and exploratory lick over the engorged head, then took him as far as she could in her mouth. Gryff tsked her suddenly, and she looked up, eyes wide, cock in her mouth, worried she’d done something wrong.

  “What have I told you before?” he all but growled, a hand resting on the wall, his other arm behind his back. In an instant, Beth dropped her hands and clasped them behind her back. A week or so ago, he’d taught her how he liked to be sucked, and she recalled he preferred that she keep her hands behind her back. If he could, he’
d probably tie them there. The thought made her shiver.

  Unfortunately, she was better at this when she used her hands. Without them, she was a little off-balance, a little sloppy, but she was still able to perform. Although she wanted to make noises, let him know that she was genuinely enjoying herself, the look in his eye told her to keep quiet, and Beth obeyed. Up and down her head bobbed, occasionally glancing up to meet his eye. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. The tremble in his arm, the quiver of his thigh, and the tight line of his lips said everything she needed and wanted to hear.

  It didn’t take him long to come. Normally he tried to control himself, always coming last and late during their sessions, but she couldn’t blame him. The voices in the hall were growing louder, and while the risk thrilled her, the rational part of her brain knew the dean’s daughter couldn’t be caught giving blowjobs in the library. Her dad would kill her. But that spurred her on too, taking Gryff deeper than she had before, holding back the urge to gag, her eyes watering as he spilled himself down her throat.