Making the King: A dark forced marriage romance (The Cruz Kings MC)

Epilogue 3

1.5 years later

“Can I come in yet?” Rocco asks, laughter palpable in his tone.

“No.” Urgency makes the one word sound like I’m angry. “You know you can’t see the dress.”

I listen intently as he laughs and walks away from the office door. Once I’m sure he’s gone, I turn back to the two mannequins wearing my options. I still can’t decide which one to wear.

One is a replica of the one I wore at our original wedding, and I like the idea of wearing it as I say I do again—this time of my own volition, because I love the man who owns my heart.

The other is not really a wedding dress, or a dress at all. It’s a sinfully sexy two-piece ensemble. The black leather top has holes and laces in the front, and the skirt is full length with a slit reaching my crotch.

I’m caught between the girl I once was and the woman I’ve now become. And try as I might, I can’t decide, which means I’ll probably end up making a split second decision on the day.

There’s a knock on the door, and before I can answer, it cracks open and Cain saunters in.

“Still can’t decide?” he asks, cocking his eyebrow in that annoyingly all-knowing way of his.

“No,” I mutter.

He nods thoughtfully. “You know Rocco doesn’t care, right?”

We’ve already been over this a million times. Cain knows I’m not making this decision for Rocco, it’s for me. I just wish I knew what the fuck I want.

Ever since the vote for the MC, Cain and I have become closer. In fact, I think I might be the only person who knows he has a serious side to him.

“Did you get it done?” I ask, changing the subject.

Fist pumping the air, he grins widely. “I did. And I wouldn’t have done it for anyone but you.”

My lips turn up as I say, “Well… you did owe me. But now we’re square.”

Cain sighs theatrically and runs a hand down his face. “Fucking hell, mi peque?o salvaje. I thought you were going to lord that favor over me forever.”

With a laugh, I admit, “I was tempted. But no.” Then I point at his laptop. “Let’s resolve it right now.”

I watch as he inputs his password before opening the sheet I’m referring to. With a grin, he clicks on the comment where he said he owed me all those years ago.

“Wait,” I say. “Log in to my account instead.”

Cain lets out a laugh while doing as I say. “You are thorough, aren’t you,” he says with a wink.

He isn’t wrong. But with how many things are changing, I want this to be done the right way.

Dirty Diamonds no longer uses sheets for their scheduling and internal stuff. They’ve moved on to other systems that track everything, which is for the better. But Cain kept this one, insisting he wouldn’t get rid of it until he repaid my favor.

Hip bumping him out of the way, I take over and resolve the comment that’s been open for over three years. “There we go,” I grin. “Favor officially repaid.”

I don’t know why there’s a fucking lump in my throat, or why I’m so emotional these days. Despite what Rose, Sasha, and Alana suggest, I know it isn’t wedding jitters. Rocco is the one constant I’m sure of, and I’d follow him into the gaping mouth of hell as long as he keeps his promise of me being his equal.

There’s another knock on the door.

“Come in,” Cain calls out as soon as I’ve covered both mannequins.

Gunner walks in, his chest is puffed out and his smirk is framed by the beard he’s trying to grow. “It’s done,” he says, giving me a thumbs up.

“You did it?” I ask excitedly.

He nods. “Yep.” Looking toward the two mannequins, he cocks an eyebrow. “You still haven’t decided on what to wear?” he asks on a drawl as he leans against Cain’s desk.

“You just settled it,” I say, pointing at the mannequin I want. “This is the winner.”

Gunner has worked around the clock to help me get things ready, even putting up with my unreasonable demands and crazy ideas.

Unlike Gray, who’s made it clear he only cares because it’s me and Rocco, Gunner seems to have a genuine interest. Not just in helping, but he’s even helped me plan for the three days Rocco and I are going to spend wrapped around each other after the wedding.

Instead of going away for our honeymoon, we’re moving into the house we’ve found. It’s an empty warehouse with a decent amount of property. As soon as we found it, we agreed it was perfect as the clubhouse for the Cruz Kings.

After working out the last few details, I follow Cain and Gunner out of the office. We head into the main room where everyone is already getting rowdy.

“Killer!” Rocco exclaims. Everyone laughs as it takes him two attempts to get out of the corner booth. “I’ve missed you.” I snigger at the slur in his voice.

“I’ve missed you too,” I smile.

Tonight will be the first time we spend apart since I got out of prison, and while it’s at my insistence, I’m not entirely happy about it. But it’s important to me that we adhere to this one tradition. If for no other reason than because our lives are so crazy that normalcy is like a rare decadence.

Rocco pulls me over to the wall, placing his hands on either side of my face as he cages me in. “Have you changed your mind about spending the night with your Cunts?” he asks with a grin.

I shake my head. “Nope,” I say. Then I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down until his forehead rests against mine. “But I’ll miss you, mi rey. A lot.”

He lets out a strangled growl. “Why did you have to go and say that, Killer? Now I’ll be hard all night while imagining you saying that with my cock in your mouth.”

I fuse my lips to his, kissing him with all the love and desire I feel for him. As our tongues tangle, I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I am. Even after all these years, he still makes me weak in the knees and makes my heart skip a beat.

“You better get going before I decide to keep you around,” Rocco rasps when we pull back.

He squeezes my ass so hard my breath hitches. “See you tomorrow, husband.” I place a chaste kiss on his lips before I leave.

After parking Rocco’s truck, I make my way into the clubhouse where Sasha, Alana, Rose, Izzy, and Cilla are already having a blast.

The last two only joined us a few months ago, but they’re quickly becoming a part of our growing family. Izzy came to us after she’d heard of the Cruz Kings through the grapevine, and Cilla is a friend of the Long twins.

“Cara!” Sasha squeals as soon as she spots me. “About time you got here. We almost thought you’d changed your mind and stayed with Rocco.” Her voice barely penetrates the music blaring through the speakers.

“I’m not as ruled by cock as you are,” I say with a grin.

“Lies,” Rose laughs. “You’re the worst one of us.” I offer her a shrug because I’m not entirely sure she’s wrong.

I look around, taking the room in. The other times I’ve been here, it’s only been me and Rocco. But now, the five women make it feel much more alive. My lips curve upwards in a smile as I ponder what it’ll be like when there are more of us.

“You’re still not drinking.” Alana frowns and looks at me like I’ve committed a grave faux pas.

“But you are,” I dryly observe. “How far behind am I?”

Cilla laughs as she hands me a paper cup filled with tequila. “Not too far to catch up. So get to it,” she urges, and I do.

Damn, that’s so smooth I bet it’s from Dante’s or Baz’s private stash. While the Cunts look on with excitement written all over their faces, I empty the cup in one go.

“Better?” I ask, raising my brow.

Sasha claps her hands together and whoops, “Now it’s a party.”

I let Rose and Izzy drag me over to the only table with chairs around it, and we all settle there. The alcohol flows as freely as our conversations, and it doesn’t take long before I feel buzzed.

“Where are you going?” I ask when Rose and Alana get up.

“Don’t worry about it, Mama,” Rose sniggers. “Just wait for us here.”

I give up on questioning them when Sasha refills my cup, and insists we toast to me living the rest of my life monogamous to one cock.

“It’s a travesty, really,” she slurs. “We aren’t meant to only have one dick for the rest of our life.”

Cilla cackles like a fucking witch. “You only say that because you can barely stick to one per night.”

Sasha nods eagerly. “Too damn right. What’s the point of having all those lovely looking dicks around if I can’t sample them all?”

I burst out laughing, almost falling off the fucking chair that I swear is spinning. “Why keep looking if I’ve already found the perfect one?”

“Cock or man?” Izzy asks as she looks at me out of the corner of her eyes.

“Both,” I giggle. “Rocco is… both.”

Did that make sense? Fuck, I don’t know, and with the way the room is spinning, I don’t really care.

Rose and Alana return, each carrying a plastic bag that they place on the table before retaking their seats. After downing a few shots, they pull a few presents from the bag and shove them in front of me.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing at the wrapped boxes. “I thought I made it clear there’d be no presents.”

“They’re not from us,” Alana sing-songs.

“That’s right,” Rose nods emphatically. “We didn’t wrap ours.”

Izzy grins. “And they’re not presents,” she says with a wink.

“That’s right,” Cilla interjects. “We’re only lending you a few things.”

I take a large swig of the tequila as I try to decipher their well-rehearsed speech. “Okay. So these presents aren’t from you?”

They all shake their heads, which is all I need to know who they’re from.

“Rocco,” I breathe.

I reach for the first present and quickly unwrap it. The Cunts laugh like a fucking pack of hyenas when I reveal the black leather collar. Attached to it are two chains and at the end of each chain dangles a blue nipple clamp.

“Something new and blue,” I say as soon as it dawns on me what I’m looking at.

My fucking husband.

“Keep going,” Izzy encourages.

I frown in confusion as I open the next present. “Purple highlight kit?” I don’t know why I’m phrasing it like a question when that’s exactly what it is.

“Yep,” Sasha says, popping the P.

I keep looking at the hair dye, wondering what that’s all about. I don’t usually dye my hair, and I haven’t since… “Oh,” I gasp. “Something to bring back my old look.”

Cilla laughs again. “Told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.”

I don’t pay attention to the money changing hands, all I can think about is my overwhelming need to be with Rocco. To have him with me, tradition be damned.

Before I can decide if I want to interrupt my… bachelorette party, or whatever you call it when you’re already married, Sasha and Alana drag me toward the small bathroom.

“Let’s get your hair done before we’re too drunk,” Sasha laughs.

Even after all these years, sweat still runs down my spine and my breathing becomes ragged as I get closer to the tiled room. Fuck, will I ever get rid of this fucking sinking feeling?

“N-no.” My voice wavers as I take a step back. “We can do it outside.”

“Wait,” Alana calls out, letting go of me at the same time.

“Oops,” Sasha laughs, not noticing my change in mood.

Shooting me an apologetic grimace, Alana switches the lights on and explains, “Rocco told us to show you the changes before bringing you in here. But we forgot.”

The Cunts haven’t been told my full story, but they know enough to know tiled rooms freak me out. Well, that’s an exaggeration. With Rocco’s help it’s nothing more than discomfort now. Still, he goes out of his way to make sure I’m as comfortable as possible.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. Needing to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I blink rapidly.

The tiles that used to be here are long gone, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s Rocco that’s replaced it with vinyl. Just like in our bathroom at home.

“Rocco wanted to make sure it was perfect for you,” Rose says, as she walks up behind me.

A lump forms in my throat, and I can only nod when Sasha asks if I want to continue. As they work on my hair, I make the decision to call Rocco and ask him to come. I don’t know what they’re doing tonight, and it doesn’t matter. He’ll come if I ask him to, and I’m selfish enough to want that.

Since my hair almost reaches my waist, it takes forever to add the purple highlights. But the Cunts are no less enthusiastic when we finish than they were when we started.

“It looks amazing,” Cilla whoops once we’re done and my hair is dry.

“Thank you,” I say, looking at each of them in the mirror. “Not just for this, but for making tonight so amazing.”

They nod, and I feel like an understanding settles around us as we look at our reflections. We need no words to cement the bond between us, it runs deeper than that. And I know in my gut that I’ll protect these women with my life.

“Right,” Sasha says, wiping a tear from her eye. “This is fun and all, but I want to get laid.”

I bark out a laugh. “Go,” I grin as I turn around to face them. “I want to call Rocco.”

“Wait,” Izzy interjects. “There’s one last thing to take care of.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cilla says, nodding as she looks at me. “You need something borrowed.”

I gape at them. I know the tradition to have something old, new, borrowed, and blue, I just never even considered embracing it and making it part of my second wedding day.

“Here,” Sasha says, holding her fist out. She unclenches, releasing something that falls right into my outstretched and waiting hand. “It’s all of ours, and we want it back. So take good care of it.”

I’m almost scared to look at what it is, but of course, curiosity gets the better of me. “A button?” I ask, feeling like I’m missing something. “You’re letting me borrow a fucking button?” There’s definitely something I’m not getting here.

The Cunts snigger and share amused glances. I’m just about to demand an answer when Izzy clears her throat. “Remember the jeans you once lent Sasha and didn’t want back because of the cum stains?” I nod because you don’t easily forget when that happens. “Well, we’ve all worn them, and all had an orgasm while wearing them. So it seemed fitting that you, the Mama of Cunts, borrow the button.”

I run a hand through my newly washed and dried hair, letting out a deep breath. “You’re all fucking certifiable,” I laugh. “But I love it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Waving them all closer, I wrap my arms around Rose and Cilla, pulling them into a hug. Though I can’t reach all of my girls, I hope they know how much they mean to me.

After a while, I step back. “Right, I want to call Rocco,” I say with a grin.

They exchange knowing glances but don’t clue me in on the big secret as they leave the bathroom together.

Once I walk back into the main room, I realize why. Rocco’s already here. He’s sitting at the table we partied at earlier, and he’s looking right at me.

“Sorry,” he drawls, not looking sorry at all as he gets to his feet. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

Grinning, I run to him and jump into his waiting arms. “Mi rey,” I whisper, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “I was just about to call you.”

I claim his lips, eagerly letting my tongue trace the seam of his lips as I move my hands into his hair. Rocco’s tongue delves into my mouth, stroking mine in a way that sends wetness to my core.

“Cara,” he rasps into my mouth.

“Fuck me,” I purr.

I don’t know if the Cunts are still here or if they’ve left, and right now I couldn’t care less. All I want is Rocco to consume me.

He chuckles darkly. “Not until after you’ve said I do tomorrow.”

I gape, not sure I heard him correctly. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am, Mama.” He pinches my ass and rolls his hips so his erection grazes my core.

“Please?” I beg, gyrating my hips to get more of him.

Despite my pleas, Rocco doesn’t change his mind and instead carries me into the room he intends to use for church.

When he puts me down, he points at the air mattress on the floor. “But I still want to sleep with you tonight. Emphasis on sleeping, Killer.”

Fuck me, Rocco’s thought of everything, hasn’t he? I guess this tells me that he never had any intention of staying away, and I think I love him even more for that. Both for letting me have my idea, but mostly for knowing what I’d want at the end of the night.

Him. Always him.

“Fine,” I grumble as I begin to remove my clothes. “I still want you naked.”

He shoots me one of those smiles that makes me weak in the fucking knees as he unashamedly strips out of his clothes before helping me with mine. The tequila still courses through my veins, making my movements… awkward.

As soon as we’re both naked, we lie down on the mattress. Rocco lies on his back, and I place my head on top of his heart, letting the steady thumping lull me to sleep.

When I wake up the next morning, Rocco’s already awake. “Morning, Killer,” he rasps.

I stretch and yawn. “Hi,” I say, the remnants of sleep evident in my hoarse voice. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.”

He gives me a wicked smile. “I wanted to help you with the nipple clamps.”

My brows shoot up my forehead, and my lips part on an O as I remember the presents from last night. “Please,” I say.

Rocco lifts his pillow and pulls the collar from under there. “Are you okay with the collar?” he rasps.

“Of course,” I answer immediately. “I trust you.”

The fact that he asks is just one of the many reasons I love Rocco. And while I’ve made it clear, I’ll never be his Old Lady or his property, I’m more than okay with the games we play and his occasional show of dominance.

My breath hitches as he wraps the collar around my neck, fastening it at the back before he reaches for the blue clamps at the end of the chains.

“Are you ready?” he asks on a groan.

At my nod, he pulls the sheet down. My nipples pebble under his heated gaze, and when he closes his mouth around one, I moan loudly.

“Rocco.” He pulls back with a chuckle before licking the other, not pulling back until I’m panting. “Fucking tease,” I whine.

As he shifts, his hard cock catches my attention, and I lick my lips. His length jerks as though it can feel my attention, and I have to remind myself now isn’t the time.

“Here we go,” Rocco rasps.

I take a deep breath and hold it as he closes the clamps around my nipples. The sensation that follows is hard to explain. It’s too much and also not enough. It hurts while also feeling amazing. My cunt throbs, and I whimper.

“Rocco… I need…” Fuck, I don’t know what I’m begging for. Him? A release? Whatever it is, I want it badly.

“This is how I want you, Killer,” Rocco says solemnly. “As desperate for me as I am for you. Can you give me that?”

Gritting my teeth, I nod again. “Okay,” I agree.

I consider returning the favor and working him up as well, but decide against it. This is what Rocco wants, and I want to give it to him. Besides, I already know it’ll be worth it later.

Rocco gets out of the makeshift bed, and hands me my clothes before getting dressed. I follow his lead and get up. Though instead of putting my own clothes on, I snatch his shirt.

“I need this more than you,” I snap when he tries to take it back. “Do you know how hard leather is to get into? I’m not putting my clothes on just to take it off in a few minutes.”

He relents with a chuckle. “Whatever you say, Killer.” Then he pulls his phone from his jeans pocket and looks at the clock. “I have to go.”

Laughing at the regret in his tone, I shoo him away with my hand. “Go before I change my mind and pounce on you.”

His eyes become hooded, and he lets out a low growl that I know will lead to us being late to our own fucking wedding.

We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and Sasha calling, “Cara?”

“Saved by the Cunts,” I grin before answering Sasha. “In here. Give me two minutes.”

The words barely leave my mouth before the door is slammed open, and Sasha saunters inside with Rose in tow.

“Nope. Not happening. We know that tone, and we’re not letting you distract each other today.”

Rose points at Rocco. “Go,” she orders, scowling at him.

Throwing his hands up in the air, Rocco huffs. “I just want to—”

“Not happening,” Cain drawls as he joins us. Palming Rocco’s shoulder, he practically pushes him out of here.

As soon as they’re gone, Alana comes into view. “We’re waiting for you,” she says, and I spring into action.

I forgo the shower I wanted since I don’t want to remove the nipple clamps. So instead, I go directly to getting dressed. While I put my outfit on, Sasha explains that all the guys have the cuts with the logo on them.

Gunner helped me design the skull and crown logo befitting of the Cruz Kings. And after he confirmed everything was ready yesterday, he ironed it onto the back of my skirt as well as the cut I’ll give Rocco after we say I do.

The Cunts are already wearing their black dresses with the logo on the back.

“The guys are already here,” Rose says as she watches me put the last touches on my makeup.

“It’s a woman’s prerogative to take as long as she needs,” Alana grins.

She’s right, of course. But since I’m ready, there’s no point in waiting longer. “Are Gray and Gunner ready?” I ask, smoothing the skirt.

“Yeah,” Sasha answers. “Everyone’s ready.”

“Go take your places,” I say. “And tell everyone I’ll be there shortly.”

When Rose’s about to leave with the rest, I stop her in her tracks. “Hold up,” I say. “I want to ask you something.” I swallow harshly when my voice sounds like gravel.

“What’s up?” Rose asks.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous to ask her, but I am, and it makes no fucking sense. “I want to ask you something, and feel free to say no.”

“Okay?”

“Rocco’s not the only one who’s going to need a second in command,” I explain, pointing at myself like it’s necessary to spell it out for her. “I’ll need one too. Will you be me when I’m not around? Help with the duties, and whatever else might be needed?”

Rose’s jaw becomes slack, and her eyes take on a glassy quality as she fights her tears. “Really?” she asks.

I nod, determined that it has to be Rose. I can’t explain what it is, but there’s something about her. I trust her implicitly, and… if I’m honest, I feel a stronger connection to her than to the rest.

“Absolutely,” I clarify.

“Then I accept,” she croaks, quickly wiping a stray tear from underneath her eye.

As I contemplate hugging her, she mumbles an excuse to go join the others and practically runs away. I get it. We don’t do emotional well, and right now, I’ve made her just that. I take a deep breath, happy with my decision, before I, too, leave.

Gunner and Gray wait for me near the doors leading outside to the unkempt garden. They’re both dressed in black jeans, black sleeveless shirts, and the new leather cut with the logo on the back.

“Mama,” they grin in unison, and I mock scowl at them for good measure.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” I say, referring to my MC title.

“You look amazing,” Gray says with a nod.

Gunner whistles under his breath. “Rocco’s a lucky guy.”

“I know,” I laugh.

Then I link my arms with theirs, and follow them to where everyone’s gathered.

Rocco stands next to Cain, and to the left are Dante, Baz, Munroe, Tex, Stretch, Slayer, and Slasher. Opposite the men are my Cunts, Alana, Sasha, Rose, Cilla, and Izzy.

“He hasn’t seen their backs,” Gray assures me just before we reach them.

I smile as my gaze finds Rocco’s. Even though it’s only been a handful of hours, it’s still too long since I last saw him.

“Who gives this married woman away to be married to the same man again?” Cain asks.

“We do,” Gunner and Gray answer in unison. Then they kiss my cheeks and while making sure Rocco can’t see their backs, they awkwardly walk over to join the other men.

Rocco takes my hand and pulls me to his side. “Killer,” he murmurs only loud enough for me to hear.

“Mi rey,” I breathe.

“Since I’ve never ordained shit before, let alone an already married couple, I’m just going to wing it,” Cain sing-songs.

A few people chuckle.

“Most of us have no idea what Cara sees in Rocco’s ugly face, but here we are,” Cain grins.

“It’s his cock,” Sasha pipes up. “She told us that yesterday.”

I burst out laughing as Cain nods like that makes all the sense in the world.

“Can we get on with it?” Rocco growls.

He might sound annoyed, but I know better. He’s just eager for us to get married for real. Well, no. That’s not it… it’s for us to voluntarily say I do to each other.

“Yes, yes,” Cain says, waving him off. “So, umm… if you two would like to get married again, please recite your vows.”

Rocco takes my hand and turns to look at me. “Cara.” He swallows thickly. “When we got married, you were a job. A mission. I never imagined that day could turn into something real, but here we are. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”

I gulp and my eyes become misty. “Rocco…” Blinking rapidly, I try to get rid of the tears gathering behind my lids. “You’re everything that’s right in this world. I never knew that men like you actually existed, and I definitely never believed I’d be able to love anyone. But you’ve made me see that there’s more to life than what I knew, and that love is worth fighting for.”

Some of the Cunts sniff, but I don’t turn around to see who. I’m too transfixed on my husband, and the moment we’re sharing right now.

Even though our first marriage wasn’t what it should have been, it was still kind of perfect. Not at the time, but in hindsight. Because I’m not sure I could have opened my heart to Rocco, or trusted him, if we’d met under different circumstances.

Evil forced us together, but it’s love, understanding, and respect that binds us forever.

“I love you, Killer,” Rocco rasps.

Beaming at him, I say, “And I love you, mi rey.”

“By the power vested in me by the almighty internet, I now declare you husband and wife… again,” Cain announces. “You may now kiss the fuck out of your wife.”

The laugh on my lips dies when Rocco wraps his arm around my middle and dips me. Before I can say anything, he slants his lips to mine in a kiss that has my toes curling. Our guests fade into nothingness, and all that exists is Rocco’s mouth and tongue.

I let out a hiss as the corner of his teeth knicks my tongue, and the taste of copper explodes between us. “Rocco,” I moan, unashamedly needy for him.

“Killer,” he rasps. “Are you still wearing the nipple clamps?”

Now that they’re at the forefront of my mind, my nipples pulsate, sending waves of lust through my body. “Yes.”

He chuckles darkly before pulling us both upright. “Good.”

“You know you didn’t have to get ordained to remarry them, right?” Sasha asks Cain who wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. But I owed a debt,” he answers while winking at me.

Rose clears her throat and points at the small plastic bag at her feet. Oh yeah, I almost forgot about my present for Rocco. At my nod she comes over to me, and I take the bag.

“Husband,” I purr, loving the smile stretching across Rocco’s handsomely scarred face. “I have a present for you as well.”

I give him the bag, and while he pulls the cut from it, I signal for our guests to turn around so their backs face us.

Rocco holds the cut up, nodding thoughtfully. “Our first cut,” he says, clearly he hasn’t looked at the back yet.

“Turn it around,” I encourage impatiently.

He does, and I watch as his jaw becomes slack when he sees the skull with a crown on top. Below it says ‘Cruz Kings MC’ and below that ‘President’.

“This is perfect,” he rasps. “We need one for everyone.”

“Isn’t it?” I beam. Then I point behind him. “Take a look.”

He turns his head, and I wish I could see his expression as he takes in their cuts. Of course some of them are just honorary. Dante, Baz, and Cain aren’t part of the Cruz Kings, and they’ll likely never be. But today, logistics doesn’t matter.

“You did all this?” Rocco asks as he turns back to me.

Before I can answer, he pulls me flush against him and crushes his lips to mine in a brutal kiss. Our teeth clash, and this time I bite his lip.

“I did,” I moan into his mouth. “My present to you.”

When we pull apart, I have to literally point at the Cunts before he notices the skull on their clothing as well. And, lastly, I turn and bend over to show him the one on my ass.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Rocco growls as he helps me back up.

“And you’re fucking mine.”