Chapter One
Wasp
The tantalizing taste of forbidden fruit coated my tongue with delectable intrigue. I smelt her arousal before it dripped down her leg. And who was I to let such a delicious treat go to waste? Yes, my finger dragged up every inch of her thighs, watching as the Prez’s Ol’ Lady became putty in my hands.
She’d be the perfect sub.
So willing.
So green.
So off limits.
Fuck, my dick hardened at the thought of putting that pretty little brunette on her knees and making her succumb to all my dark desires. I’d make those knees so raw and red, permanently scratched with carpet rash from all the time she’d be spending on the floor, mouth open wide, awaiting my cum as I jerked off into her pert little mouth and made her drink every damn drop.
Yes… just the thought had me harder.
Then I heard the whimpers as I passed by my door. Keelie… my little girl. Such a good little slave she was—willing to do anything her Master told her. She soaked up her punishments like a sponge.
“Master?” she weakly called after me.
Peeking into my room, I grinned. Her naked body was bound to my bed by unforgiving metal cuffs that cut into her wrists and ankles. Her perfect tits, and tatted skin, displayed for anyone to see. All my brothers could have sneaked in here and fucked her, but none bothered. She wouldn’t have enjoyed it.
She only wanted one dick… mine.
But sex with Keelie was getting rather boring. I’d already broken her. She didn’t put up a fight anymore—the defiance was no longer there.
I needed someone to say no.
Someone who would be fun to punish. Someone who wouldn’t submit so easily.
I kept walking, enjoying the pathetic pleas from Keelie to let her have a break. She’d only been chained up for a few hours. What was another hour? She might get lucky and it only be thirty minutes. Or maybe I’d just leave her there longer, make her mind go really crazy. Yeah, that sounded fun.
There was a commotion already coming from Church. Everyone in the club was there, prospects and members alike. All chairs were taken, except mine. The bastards knew better. And Sandman’s too, of course. Chairs were for the officers, and I enjoyed taking a seat while the rest of my brothers looked at the empty chair next to me with envy.
I never said I was a nice guy.
I’m not… not even close.
Fuck their stares.
Fuck their envy.
I earned this fucking chair, and none of them deserved the one next to me. Not as long as Sandman kept breathing.
My eyes darted around the room, taking in the curious looks and the strange nerves that rattled off three of my brothers in particular.
Interesting.
Sitting back, I clutched my chin, covering my smirk as I inhaled the faint scent of her essence that still lingered on my fingers. My gaze glazed over Sabbath, enjoying the deranged look in his eyes, and the tense, ready-to-kill-someone stance he had as he took his spot at the front of the room.
Two angry fists slammed down on the table, the wood creaking beneath the heavy punch.
“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he shouted; his eyes wild with strange aggression.
“Calm the fuck down, Sabbath,” Snyder suggested, trying his best to soothe him.
Fucking Snyder. This was all his fault. I knew it in my bones. I could see the way he looked at Shasta. The way his dick became a hard mast of pent-up sexual frustration every time they made eye contact. He wanted to own her… but she belonged to Sabbath. And, if she was lucky, soon she’d belong to me… her Master.