Prologue
Her arms are tied to the bed, her body writhing around trying to get free. It does nothing for me. She does nothing for me.
Andrea. She belongs to Black. The asshole who owns the local River Casino. He pays us for our protection but those payments have been missing for the last month. We warned him. We gave him a chance. In fact, I gave him more than one but now he has to pay. If it isn’t in the form of money, then I will use force. I love using force.
“Just let me go. He will pay. I promise,” Andrea cries as she looks up at me, watching me toy with the knife in my hand.
“You know, that would be nice, but he’s had over a month, darlin’. Do you think he really cares that much for you that he’d cough up the money now?” I ask her with a smirk on my face. No matter what she thinks, he doesn’t get that choice, not anymore.
“He will!” She cries. I lean down, pressing the tip of the blade to her chest.
“No, he won’t. As tragic as this will be for him.” I plunge the knife into her chest. The way her eyes widen but no sound leaves her mouth, makes me hard.
I stare at her, the life slowly leaving her.
“God, you were fuckin’ sexy as hell. Too bad he didn’t pay.” I pull the knife free before tossing it to the side. I reach for her chest, sliding my hands through the blood that coats her skin. My dick jerks at the feel of its warmth. Her little gasps for air are too much. I reach down and coat my dick in her blood as I stroke myself. I bite my lip, loving the way it slips and slides in my hand.
“Fuck!” I growl as I feel myself getting closer.
I look down into Andrea’s near lifeless eyes before lifting her leg. I slide my dick inside of her and thrust.
“You love feelin’ me covered in your blood?” I say as I pick up my pace. I thrust harder, her eyes fluttering. She’s so close. Not to release but to death. My heart hammers in my chest as I fuck her faster. I hear her gasp and that’s all I need to fill her little pussy full of me. She will never feel that again. I lean down and rub my chest against hers, coating me in her blood. Her life. Her death. It’s all mine now.
“God, you were perfect.” I pull my dick free before shoving off the bed.
I pick up the saw and grin. “Now we will get your man a little trophy.”
Chapter 1
Lust. One of the seven deadly sins. It can be fatal. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve felt it. I’ve watched it spin out of control. My lust is different than most. What I claim is far more personal. I want blood.
I watch her as she walks with her friends, the way her ass sways when she moves. Her body calls to me in ways that it shouldn’t. Thoughts of taking her and having my way run rampant through my mind. Bending her over, feeling the forbidden touch of her flesh against mine. More so, I want to see how she looks tied up and at my mercy.
Do you know how many rules that goes against? A rival club member’s old lady? The worst part? She’s the president’s old lady. That just adds to the dream. Having her blood coating my hands and knowing she belongs to him.
We don’t have any beef with the South Side MC. We never really have. We keep our distance out of respect but that’s it.
I don’t want her to be mine, that’s not what this is. This is lust in its primal form. This is the need to feel something that I shouldn’t. The desire to hold onto her hips while I take her in ways that she has never been taken. The need to watch her bleed all over me. The desire to watch how the ropes slice into her delicate skin.
I smoke my cigarette and keep my distance, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out, taking what I want. The urge to rush over there right now is becoming more than I can I resist. My dick jerks in my jeans just begging for a taste of her. The idea of having her slick wetness on my tongue stirs things up in my mind.
I shake my head when my phone rings, pulling it out of my pocket.
“Where are you?” Demon snaps on the other end of the line. I don’t pull my eyes away from her, not yet.
“What the fuck do you want?” I ask, following her every move.
“You handle that shipment?”
“Of course. Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to?” I growl into the phone. He knows me better than anyone. If I say I’ll handle something, I will handle it. I press the end button just as Evie walks into the little salon with her friends. I reach down and adjust my dick before I stand.
It’s time to take care of business before I can get back to the finer things in life. Like Evie.
I head down the block before grabbing the bag out of the truck. I opt for the truck on my outings knowing that if Evie catches a glimpse of the bike, she will know something is up. I take pride in keeping myself behind the scenes when it comes to her. As much as I wished I could just walk up and claim her, I know that would cause a war between clubs. A war we aren’t ready to handle.
I stroll up the dock and straight into the River Casino and head toward the back while security watches me. I don’t give a shit about them. I don’t care that they see me. They know who I am and what I’m here for.
“Where’s Black?” I ask after I shove through the back door. No one stops me, they don’t dare.
“In his office,” the pretty blonde says. I give her a wink knowing damn good and well that I’ll be fucking her after this little exchange is over.
I knock once on the last door in the hallway before walking in.
“Got somethin’ for you.” I drop the bag on his desk. His golden eyes look up from the paperwork that he was reading through before I stormed in.
“You have no manners, Drake,” he says. I shrug before I sit in the leather chair across from him.
“I wasn’t bred with manners. You should know that,” I say nodding toward the bag.
Black pulls the bag closer to him, pulling the zipper. He peeks inside before jumping from his seat. Seeing his pale face makes me grin.
“What the fuck, Drake!” he yells pointing at the bag. I stand up and step toward the desk. I peek inside the bag and grin.
“What’s wrong? Don’t recognize your own wife?” I ask with a dark chill to my voice. His head snaps up, his eyes locking on mine. He’s unsure of what he saw. I’m not. I put the bitch’s head in there. In fact, I’m the one who cut it the fuck off.
“You didn’t.” He steps back up to his desk, pulling the side of the bag down once more. There she is; all bloody and mangled. I think I did a good job on her.
“What did you do?” He yells through the tears. I smile. I did my fucking job is what I did.
My craving for the female flesh may have messed my mind slightly and I may have gotten carried away with her, but I think she turned out beautifully. The way the saw blade cut through her bone. Just thinking about it sends a chill up my spine.
Black’s hand moves to his side but before he has the chance, I pull my gun first.
“You don’t like what I did with her?” I ask aiming the gun at his head. His eyes water, his body shudders. Black isn’t used to my kind of art work. I love the female body and what I can do to it.
“Why her, Drake?” His eyes are full of tears. Tears hold no meaning for me. Tears are nothing but the natural reaction that your body is forced to use.