Home > Scarred By Pain (Royal Bastards MC : New Orleans, LA #2)(8)

Scarred By Pain (Royal Bastards MC : New Orleans, LA #2)(8)
Author: Crimson Syn

The door slammed shut behind him, that final click resounded firmly as he locked me in. I finally broke into sobs as I realized I had just handed over the last semblance of hope I held onto.

 

 

As I closed my eyes, letting the water cascade through my hair, I pictured myself on my knees, but before me wasn’t Diego and his tiny dick.

No.

I dreamt of a wicked knight. One inked with tattoos in the shape of dragons. One with deep blue eyes that spoke of dark sinful fairy tales. Stories my mother wouldn’t dare read to me.

This man had a slick no nonsense look in his eye. He had perfectly sculpted abs and a broad chest I wanted to run my hands across. My hand slowly slid between my legs as I pictured unzipping him and running my hands into his pants. Sliding beneath black briefs and finding the one thing I was forbidden to have. I ran my fingers along my clit as I pictured that sexy smile of his as he looked down at me. His strong hands caressed my face while he dragged his thick cock along my lips, teasing me with it, knowing it’s what I wanted.

His voice rang in my head. That sexy deep rumble as he ordered me to open my pretty mouth. My fingers slid along my wet slit dipping slightly into my entrance. A place no man had ever gone before. I moaned as I pictured his dick sliding onto my tongue, in and out, just barely hitting the back of my throat.

“Suck on it, baby girl.”

I gasped as my fingers hit that spot at the base of my entrance, and my thighs shook as I pressed on it, picturing my lips closing around him. Tasting him. Just the mere thought of a drop of him coating my tongue made me moan in pleasure. I imagined a deep growl, one that would belong to him as I sucked on him. A long, all-consuming pressure that had him gripping my hair and throwing his head back. That perfect body straining against me. In and out, I swallowed him up as I made myself cum from the pleasure, I was giving him.

Fantasies.

That’s the world in which I lived. For the last week I’d woken up, my thighs squeezed tight, my breath ragged, as the need to be with him grew. Night after night, my dreams had been taken over. His kisses, his hands, his tongue.

God. His tongue.

My despair was getting the best of me and these little spurts of pleasure weren’t doing the job. I leaned back against the cold tile, letting the water cascade down my body.

I yearned to see that man again. But Who was I kidding? It was never going to happen. I’d ruined my chance. Diego had been adamant about it. There was no convincing him. I’d have to find another way.

As I stepped out of the shower, my thoughts were on him. I wanted to know more about him. What was his name?

Why didn't he want to disclose anything about himself to me?

He didn’t seem like he was dangerous, although there was an edge about him. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I knew the Bloody Scorpions had rival clubs after them. There were moments where Diego would be talking to someone outside my door and I was able to listen in and find out what was going on. Women weren’t ever allowed to partake in any of their meetings or conversations. We weren’t treated fairly at all. For the most part, from what I’d seen and experienced, women were only used to get the biker’s dicks wet, and for making money dancing at the tittie bars. All those fairy tales my mom used to read to me were built on the foundation of lies. Every one of them. There was no knight in shining armor coming to save the princess from her tower.

No.

This princess needed to get herself out, under any means possible. Even if it meant not coming back. But I was running from one man, to find another. The question was, was this stranger worth it or would he let me down?

Hearing the roars of laughter downstairs, I shuddered. They were drinking again. It was best I stay locked in for the night. Tomorrow I’d figure out, just how I was going to get the fuck out of here. The only plan I could think of, had to do with deceiving one of the most dangerous men that walked these hallways.

Cesar Dominguez.

Deceiving him meant only one thing. Giving him what he wanted.

It was the only way. Wasn’t it?

 

 

6

 

 

Knuckles

 

 

Jameson walked in just as Riddick and Styx were discussing Spark and the most recently founded Australia chapter. “I see word gets around like fire.”

“Is it true?” I watched Jameson hand Colt a slip of paper. Colt grimaced at whatever was written and without saying a word, he tucked it into his back pocket. Those two had something going on for quite some time, but no one dared question it. Knowing Jameson, it had to do with the past.

Jameson turned to us and nodded as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Yeah. It’s true. Spark and Falcon called me a few weeks ago wanting to know if they could set up a chapter internationally.”

“Don’t they have all sorts of laws and shit they have to abide by? Doesn’t that put us on radar?”

“Yeah, but I trust that Falcon will handle it. It’ll be good to spread our wings. Besides, there’s some shit going on down under that I’d rather they keep down there.”

There was always some shit going on somewhere. Seemed like word was spreading about the Royal Bastards and with it came tests and challenges from the gangs and ignorant fucks who thought they could overpower us. No one wanted an MC, such as ours, controlling territory. When it came down to it, we had enough men to build a small army, and that scared the fuckers. That made people question us. And that made eyes start watching.

“Knuckles, you said you had something to tell us?”

I looked up at Jameson and then focused on the rest of the members. We’d patched over a few new faces in the last few months. Tick Tock had remained Road Captain, and Styx and Riddick had fallen in step as Enforcers. Powertrain and Goshawk were brothers. When they heard Jameson was back, they offered their services. With a majority vote, both brothers were brought back on board.

Powertrain was the money man-our club Treasurer. He was a Wall Street guru who got in trouble with the law a while back. A deal went bad with some bookkeeping and it came back to bite him in the ass. When Powertrain returned from prison, Rancid had already taken over, and he’d also replaced him.

When the brothers tried to fight against it, they were caught in a shooting. Turned out it was the same night I received my sentence. Rancid had made his rounds destroying anything that even remotely stood for our code, or had anything to do with Jameson,

Lean, the Pittsburgh Chapter’s VP, had taken both the brothers in without Rancid’s knowledge. I liked Lean, like me he’d done time, and he was loyal as fuck. If they would have gotten caught, Rancid would have done away with them all, but Lean was smart and had kept them under the radar for as long as he could. Their connections to them would prove useful soon enough.

Goshawk was currently working with Tick Tock. They were the ones making the money runs and setting up the cash drop off points. Goshawk was a human GPS. He knew coordinates like the back of his hand and knew exactly where to mark the spot where no one would know when the money drops were happening. He also worked with Bullet, our Secretary, on making sure we had radars up for any type of noise coming in from the New Orleans PD.

Bullet had been with the club for years and Jameson fully trusted him. Both him and Tick Tock had proved loyal in our last run-in with Rancid, and loyalty was hard to come by these days.

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