Voodoo (Royal Bastards MC: Ankeny IA)

by Kristine Allen

  Each stroke of his hands over my skin, brush of his lips, scrape of his teeth, was nothing less than worship. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear before he held my hair to the side and kissed my nape where my tattoo started.

  A shiver skated through me at the sensuousness of his touch and the emotions it elicited.

  I sucked in a startled breath when his tongue traced the lines of the tattoo.

  “What does this say?” he asked.

  “You know,” I gasped. His teeth sank into the corded muscles at the slope of my shoulder.

  “Say it,” he demanded before he sucked on the side of my neck. Chills hit me, and I arched into him with need. The hard length of his cock slid through the crease of my ass.

  When I tried to tip my hips to bring him between my legs, he pulled back. “Say. It,” he bit out with a growl in my ear and a tweak to each nipple before he settled on one.

  Whimpering with need, I reached back to grab him and panted out what he wanted to hear.

  “I’m yours.”

  “Goddamn right you are,” he said with a feral groan. His arms were wrapped around me. One held the column of my throat as he teased the side of my neck. The other went from torturing my nipples to circling my clit. I fought between trying to increase the pressure to my clit and pressing back into his cock.

  “Ogun, I need you. Please,” I begged.

  “Not yet,” he murmured as he continued to play with me. By the time his fingers slid between my pussy lips, I was damn near writhing with desire. Lust exploded in my chest and flooded every inch of me. A dark chuckle sounded as he thrust in the slick crease repeatedly.

  Two fingers, then three filled me as the heel of his hand ground against my clit and he continued to stroke against my ass. “Please,” I cried as I rode his hand like I was having a fucking seizure.

  Steadily, he worked me over until I threw my head back as I shouted his name. The pulsing of his cock against my ass and the hot burst to my back were followed by his moans against the wet skin of my shoulder.

  Legs like Jell-O, I could barely stand. He rinsed us off with rapidly cooling water, then shut it off and opened the shower door. He stepped out first and grabbed two towels. One he used to dry every inch of me before wrapping my hair up. The other, dried himself with as I watched hungrily.

  “Just because you made me come, doesn’t mean I don’t still want you inside me,” I said in a husky tone. It made me feel powerful to watch his cock jump at my words.

  “I don’t want to overtax you. You’ve been through a lot.”

  Weak rationale. I felt incredible—all things considered.

  Without arguing, I gathered my courage and walked naked to his bed. Taking my time, I arched my back invitingly as I turned the linens back. The sharp inhalation told me that he’d gotten an eyeful when I’d bent over.

  A naughty smile curled my lips as I shed the towel from my hair and climbed into the bed. My gaze caught and held his as I bent my legs up and spread them wide. With one hand, I played with my nipple like he had in the shower; the other slipped between my legs.

  “I want you,” I said before sliding two fingers deep inside my heated channel and running my tongue over my bottom lip. Greedily, my pussy gripped my fingers like I wanted to do to his thick cock. “Here.”

  “Goddamn motherfuckin’ temptress,” he muttered as he stalked to the bed. He stopped at the foot, staring at where my fingers made slick, sloppy sounds as they slid in and out. My heart began to race in anticipation, and my chest heaved as I tried to drag oxygen into my lungs. The thought of having him inside me was enough to kick up all my body’s systems until I thought I might combust.

  With a growl, he grabbed my ankles and jerked me down until my ass almost fell off the bed, the comforter rolled and wadded underneath me. As I gripped his cock tight and stroked it until a clear bead of precum dripped from the tip, the messed-up covers no longer mattered. Then he lined it up and shoved that fucker all the way to the base.

  Though I was prepared, I screamed his name at the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. He pushed my ankles until my knees were to my chest. “That’s what you get for teasing,” he ground out as he smacked my ass. My eyes bugged in surprise, but the wetness that flooded my pussy was what shocked me more than his hand landing on my tender flesh.

  Without giving me time to adjust, he pulled back his hips and thrust forward. Harder and harder he fucked me, sending my eyes closed, a grunt escaping my lips with each deep thrust. Every so often, he would give me a smack to one side or the other. By then my ass was burning and tender, but I was in sensation overload, teetering on falling off the ledge.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so good. So fucking good,” he ground out as he plowed into me again and again. His fingertips dug into the front of my thighs for better grip. I’d surely have bruises, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was us and how good we were together.

  Sex with Ogun was dark and dangerous, yet everything good, all wrapped up into one tempting ball of sin. One that I’d happily jump on the bus to hell for in order to experience it for the rest of my life.

  “Fuck! Oh God! I’m going to come!” I burst out as it hit me like a freaking truck. I was thrashing, and my eyes rolled in my head as he continued to fuck me through the mind-altering orgasm of the century.

  “Yes! Fuuuuck!” He moaned as he buried himself deep, and the powerful pulsing of his thick cock told me he was filling me with his hot cum. That alone sent me into cataclysmic aftershocks of my orgasm. Hell, it might’ve been another one altogether. I’d honestly lost track.

  When my head finally quit spinning and I was capable of speech, I stared, dazed, at the ceiling.

  “Fuck, I think my hooha might be broken after that,” I said as I damn near drooled in my sexually satisfied stupor.

  His gasping bark of laughter caused him to slip out a little. As he leaned up between my legs, he pushed his semihard length inside again and kissed me. “I’d be willing to bet you anything you wanted that it’s just fine. If you give me a bit to recover, I’ll prove it to you.”

  That caused me to laugh, and it pushed him out all the way. We both groaned in disappointment, and my nose curled at the warmth running out of me because I knew it was landing on the covers.

  He helped my boneless body up the bed, then crawled up to wrap around me like a giant man-cocoon. Those skilled fingers of his trailed across my skin, and a comfortable silence ensued.

  Finally, I asked the question that had been in the back of my mind. “What are you going to do with Grishka and Anatoly?”

  “I can’t say more than I already have. But what I can tell you is that you need never fear them again.” It was said with such finality that I knew he meant what he’d said earlier—that they were going to die. Deep inside, I tried to find empathy or sorrow, but I couldn’t. Not a scrap.

  Unable to respond, I nodded.

  Little did he know, I had a plan of my own.

  “Voodoo II”—Godsmack

  By the time we’d made it back to Ankeny, it had been early afternoon. Then we’d had Kira to take care of. The plan had been to deal with Kira’s father, brother, and Ivan that night, but Venom decided it wouldn’t hurt to let them stew in their own piss and shit for a day. Literally.

  I’d taken advantage of the unexpected free night to fuck Kira six ways from Sunday. We had dozed in between, but for most of the night and day after we’d returned, I’d been buried balls deep in her.

  The decision to tell her what had happened hadn’t been made lightly. I’d debated heavily. In the end, the fact that I loved her, she was mine, and I wasn’t letting her go pretty much sealed the deal. If she was going to be around, she was going to find out a lot of things eventually.

  She’d taken it better than I’d thought, but I still didn’t think she believed half of it.

  After a particularly intense fuck session, I’d left her sleeping to get dressed. She was worn the fuck out.

  “I
’ll be back in a bit,” I said softly as I kissed her naked shoulder. The sheet rode low, exposing the sexy curve of her lower back and her bared shoulders as she lay on her stomach in my bed. With her hair swept to the side and my brand showing on her neck, a mixture of lust, pride, and caveman-like possession rushed through me. My next kiss was on the center of her ink.

  “Mmm. Promise?” she murmured sleepily. One hazel eye peeked up at me as the corner of her lips lifted. It sent a flutter through my chest and ended with me having to adjust my junk.

  She lifted her head when she saw I was fully dressed. Suddenly wide awake, she furrowed her brow. “Where are you going?”

  Raised up like she was, the tops of her perfect tits were calling to me. It happened every time. Kira was a distraction that more often than not had me wanting to throw everything by the wayside and climb in bed with her forever. It was a foreign concept for me. Before her, I’d never been romantic, emotional, or ruled by my dick.

  “Club business to deal with” was my vague answer, but I saw the wheels turning and could damn near visualize her putting everything together. “I gotta go.”

  “Wait! I want to go with you!” She jumped up and started pulling clothes on. She’d hooked her bra backwards the way women did and spun it around to flip it over her tits before I could open my mouth.

  “Kira. No. I need you to wait here,” I insisted. She paused, and I kissed her. Then I took advantage of her half-naked state—that I really wanted to explore further—and left the room in a hurry.

  Chains, Ghost, and Angel were waiting for me out in the common area. “Everyone already there?” Ghost nodded. There was a prospect at the bar, and I called out to him. “Prospect! No one goes in and out but a patched member. You feel me?”

  “Got it,” he replied with a firm nod. Then he continued stocking the bar in preparation for tomorrow night’s party. After the week we’d had, everyone needed to blow off some steam. There would be an official church, then the party would start.

  “Let’s roll,” I said to my brothers. They followed behind me. As the senior enforcer, I’d temporarily been promoted to SAA. It churned my gut that I’d stepped up into the position because Shank had died, but it was the way of our world.

  We stepped out into the dark night, and the sound of crickets echoed into the night. Instead of getting on our bikes and riding down the road, we’d decided to take the path. At the back of the clubhouse property was a place where the lilac bushes could be pushed to the side, and it opened to a path that ran between the fields and went over to the hog farm.

  It was maybe a mile or two walk, but it was less conspicuous than a bunch of bikes riding up into the hog farm at that time of night. We walked in a single file line through the break in the crops. No one said a word.

  The glow around the buildings was our beacon as we trudged over. Once we got there, I broke off and went into my sanctuary.

  After a brief prayer, I prepared what I needed and placed it in a softly worn leather satchel. Meticulously, I painted my face in white and black. When I was satisfied with my work, I gathered my things and stepped outside.

  The walk from my shed to where I met everyone in the old slaughterhouse was short, but I paused when I thought I heard something. A scan of the area showed no movement in the dark shadows created by the full moon. Satisfied, I continued on.

  “Voodoo, something’s not right,” Ghost said as he appeared next to me. That time, I’d sensed his presence, so the fucker didn’t get the better of me. Pausing with the door opened partially, I met his gaze.

  “You heard it too?” I was referring to the sound I’d heard. He shook his head. “Then what?”

  “I’m not sure. Lots of whispers that I can’t make out. Something has stirred up the spirits. I don’t fucking like it.” The hogs in the nearest building were also restless. Usually by this time of night they were bedded down and sleeping.

  “Anyone else sense anything?” I asked as I took another sweep of the landscape.

  “No.”

  “Maybe it’s just the moon,” I offered. He shrugged. “Stay alert. Let’s go in. I’m anxious to get started.”

  Together, we slipped in the door and entered the old building. We followed the entry hall, and around the corner everyone was gathered around the three men we had hanging from the meat hooks by chains. Their arms were stretched above their heads, and their toes barely touched the floor. They’d been stripped naked.

  Squirrel had rigged up an ingenious contraption that made me chuckle inside. Each of the three men had the end of a big fat dildo shoved up their asses. The dildos were attached to a frame that was attached to the floor, utilizing the eye-bolts we chained people to on the ground. If they pulled back at all, it would shove it farther up their butts.

  If they were into that and it didn’t bother them, then Phoenix was ready to deal with them.

  When I stepped out of the shadows, I knew my face paint had startled them, and it gave me great satisfaction. Ivan’s eyes were wary. The other two were still both defiant. I didn’t care.

  Slowly, I walked around the room, lighting the candles on the floor. The stench from their excrement was already acrid. The damp floor told me they’d already been hosed off at least once, with everything running down the drain in the center of the room.

  When I stopped in front of them, I set up an altar. A silver bowl and a small, sheathed razor-sharp blade were the first items I brought out of the satchel. Then the rest of the items were set on the altar as I arranged everything the way I wanted it. Pulling my piece from the holster at my side, I set it on the table too. Specific candles were lit for the altar. Finally, I removed the ornate scabbard. The surgically sharp blade slid out with a metallic zing.

  “What’s with this freak?” Kalashnik spat. “You think you scare us with this Halloween charade?”

  I allowed a slight smile to move my lips as I otherwise ignored them. He came across as brave, but I’d seen the sheen of sweat over his upper lip and brow. The blood from his gunshot wound was dried on him, but the opening was mostly healed closed.

  I knew that had been Angel’s work, and my eyes sought him out in thanks.

  Carrying the bowl, I stopped before Ivan first. Kalashnik would be last so he had time to appreciate what was coming. My brothers all waited in the shadows.

  The blade sliced through his skin like butter as he screamed, “You are all going to die! Fucking biker scum!” Then he let loose a tirade of Russian that I didn’t understand, nor care about. When he tried to pull away, he stopped suddenly. Not that he would’ve been able to get far.

  De Luca had simply wanted him ruined. For trying to kill Kira, he wouldn’t only be ruined. He’d be dead.

  “You must be more stupid than you look in your childish face paint,” Kalashnik sneered. Again, I didn’t acknowledge him or deign to reply. Anatoly remained stoic and silent. It didn’t matter if it was a ruse or if he was truly so brainwashed and cold-blooded that none of this affected him.

  Ignoring Ivan’s ranting, I continued to carve the appropriate symbols into his chest. The blood that ran from the cuts was collected in the silver bowl.

  The only time I interacted with him was when he tried to spit on me. Then I drove the knife up under his chin until the tip pierced the tender flesh behind the bone. Barely above a whisper, I told him, “Spit at me again, and I’ll cut out your tongue and slice off your tiny dick, then shove them both down your throat. When I’m done, I’ll sew your lips together. You hear me?”

  He didn’t reply, and I pushed the knife in deeper, making him gasp. He didn’t yell, because it would’ve probably shoved the knife up into his mouth and he knew it. Finally, he replied with little movement of his jaw. “Yes!”

  “Good,” I replied evenly. Then I finished with him and moved on to Anatoly.

  The second the knife pierced his flesh, the beast in me rumbled to life. This was retribution for Kira’s childhood he helped destroy. Every cut, every drop of crimson blo
od, every grunt that it pulled from his blackened soul, fed the beast.

  By the time I finished with him, he still remained wordless, but the greenish hue to his face told me I’d affected him. The sweat that was mixing with the blood told me he wasn’t completely unfeeling. I’d seriously fought burying my blade in his eye.

  Kalashnik had been bitching and threatening the entire time. He really hadn’t liked that I’d hurt his baby boy.

  Too fucking bad.

  When I turned to him, I had to hold myself back. A shiver coursed through me as the demon within shuddered and thrashed. The smell of their blood, the desperate need to end their lives, all of the feelings that went along with it—I knew were part of the me that I despised. My legacy from the demon that called himself my father.

  Teeth clenched, I breathed deeply for control. For what he’d done to his own daughter, I wanted to slice his dick into a million pieces. Intently, I stared in his eyes as I allowed my peripheral vision to make the marks I could make in my sleep. Then, I demanded, “Tell me why you were doing business with the Bloody Scorpions.”

  “Fuck. You,” he gritted out. He was soaked with sweat by then, and his skin was clammy. Though I hadn’t expected him to answer me, it had been worth a shot. It didn’t really matter. Because we’d find out what we needed one way or another.

  “You know you’re dying, don’t you?” I asked in a calculatingly cold voice. My eyes narrowed as I studied him—trying to see what made him tick. With each mark I made, I prayed to get something off him. An image, a flash of his dealings with the Bloody Scorpions—anything.

  Except there was nothing.

  The longer I spent on their preparation for death the more I wanted to let loose and tear them limb from limb.

  Instead, I breathed deep and stilled the angry beast.

  Once the marks were made, I chanted low and mixed the dark blood in the bowl with the tip of the knife. The rituals my grandmother had taught me weren’t for the weak of heart. Nor were they ones that were openly spoken about. Hell most modern-day practitioners of voodoo and hoodoo didn’t know anything about the rituals that were part of my family’s legacy.