I moan in protest because my body is begging for something more, and he’s not giving it to me.
Bane slides his cock along my entrance and slowly fills my core with his thickness. Bracing himself over me, he undoes the bandana at my mouth and unties my arms.
“Now you can have your reward,” he says, claiming my mouth with his and beginning to thrust into my pussy.
I break my lips from his and scream out in pleasure, unable to stop myself.
“That’s right, baby, let them all know whose pussy this belongs to,” Bane growls, drilling into me without missing a beat.
“Bane,” I cry out and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Yeah, Duchess,” he says hoarsely. “Fuck. I love the way you clench my cock. Tell me, who do you belong to? Who is the only man allowed to fuck you?”
I cling to him as my orgasm rips through me and cry out. “You, Bane, you.”
“Fuck yeah,” he snarls, growling as he pumps his seed into my depths. His cock twitches hitting me in the right spot, and I’m thrown into yet another climax.
Bane tilts his head and presses his forehead against mine. Slowing his thrusts to a stop inside me, he brushes his lips against my own and whispers, “You’re mine, Demi, and I’m done playing these games.”
His? What does he mean by that?
He’s got to be joking. I know he doesn’t really want me. Bane just doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.
CHAPTER THREE
BANE
I don’t know what the fuck is going on in my head but making Demi mine was the right damn decision. I can tell she’s not fully grasping the fact I’m putting my claim on her. Shit, I even told my brothers in church yesterday after Scorch got back to town.
Today we’re having a BBQ, and we’ve got brothers from Ghoul’s charter visiting us. I’ve known Ghoul pretty much as long as I’ve known Scorch considering the man’s my Prez’s uncle.
Demi’s been trying to keep her distance from me since I pulled out the box of toys I’d ordered especially for her. I have a thing for some kink, but I don’t use the same shit with different women. When it comes to the CW’s, I’ve always told them to bring their own shit with them. I don’t supply theirs.
With Demi, I wanted to make sure she experienced the pleasure in a way I’ll ruin her for other men. I remember how she tensed when I withdrew the plug from her ass. I think she was surprised when I picked her up and carried her to the shower in order to take care of her. Afterward, I dried the both of us off and put her back in the bed—removing the covers with the toys wrapped in the blanket.
I didn’t worry about cleaning them until well after Demi passed out. I know she didn’t understand my sudden change, shit, I shocked myself. But it’s like something clicked inside me. I made the decision, and I’m sticking to it. She’s mine, and I’m not letting go.
However, for the past two days, the damn woman has been avoiding me as much as she can or sticking close to Emery. I haven’t had a moment alone with her, and she’s not giving me an opening. I’m about to say fuck it, throw her over my shoulder, take her back to my room where I’ll make her see fucking reason.
Standing off to the side with Ram, Frost, and Pyro, we’ve been joking with a few of the brothers from the other charter. Several of the CW’s come over and start flirting. I glance out of my peripheral and see Demi heading this way across the courtyard, glaring.
I smirk, taking note of her jealousy. I step away from the women allowing my brothers to enjoy the attention. I move to head for Demi when the sounds of screeching tires and guns ring through the air. My heart skids to a stop, and I take off running, needing to protect my woman. But when she goes down, I know she’s been hit.
“Demi,” I roar her name, pushing myself fast and dropping to her side.
I press a hand to her stomach to staunch the blood, but it’s coating my hands. A fear like I’ve never felt in my life tries to overpower all rational thought.
“Demi, don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” I mutter, scanning over the rest of her body. Emery and Scorch join me along with Pyro, who’s helping me try to save her while one of my brothers calls for an ambulance. Noticing how pale Demi’s face is, my gut churns, and I need her to focus on me. “Damnit, Demi, look at me.”
Slowly, she does, and I know she’s giving up. I can’t allow her to do that shit. “Demi, swear to fuck you better hang on,” I snarl, brushing my fingers through her hair.
“Just know I love you.” Her eyes grow heavier, and her voice is weak. I’ve never been a crying man or even a praying man, but at this moment, I’ll do anything to save her.
“Goodbye, Bane,” she whispers and closes her eyes, her head cocks to the side marginally.
“No,” I roar out, and the sky above us is filled with clouds, and thunder rumbles in the distance.
“Come on, VP. Paramedics are here. Let them get to her. She’s still got a pulse, but it’s weak,” Pyro says while Scorch and Ram all but drag me away from my woman.
“Bane, brother, you gotta keep it together,” Scorch tells me, keeping a firm grip on my arm as I stare at the medical team bustling to save Demi. “If you wanna be able to go to the hospital and them not kick your ass out, you need to get your head right.”
I know he’s speaking the truth, but fuck if it ain’t hard as fuck to keep myself from losing my shit. I want to know who the fuckers are who did this, and I swear to fuck when I find out, I’m gonna gut them before throwing them in the ocean for the sea creatures to feast on.
“Please let her be okay,” Emery murmurs, not for the first time.
We’ve been in the waiting room for hours, and Scorch is got an arm wrapped tightly around Emery’s waist—holding her close to his side.
“She’s gonna be okay,” Scorch says reassuringly while meeting my gaze. “Demi’s a fighter. We all know she’s not gonna go down without a battle in the process.”
Stone is sitting on the other side of Scorch with his head down, staying quiet. The rest of my brothers are scattered around the room with—those from here and Ghoul’s charter.
Unable to sit still any longer, I start pacing. I’ve been doing this off and on periodically while waiting for answers. We’re all worried as fuck Demi won’t make it. I can already feel my head spiral out of control with the need to avenge her, but more than that, to see my woman won’t pull through. I’m not stupid. Any gunshot wound can be fatal if done right, but with a shot to the chest, it’s a hell of a lot harder for them to stay alive.
“Family of Demi Kesson.”
I spin to face the man in green scrubs standing in the doorway. I step toward him along with Emery and Scorch.
“I’m Dr. Miles,” he introduces himself. “I’ve just left the operating room after doing everything I can to save Ms. Kesson.”
“How is she?” I demand harshly, not liking the way he’s staring down at us.
“Critical for the time being. If she makes it through the night, it’ll be a miracle. I can’t promise anything. She’s sustained a shot to the chest to which she’s lucky she’s not dead as it is,” he states bluntly.