Epilogue 4
1.5 years later
My back slams into the wall as Cara and I fight for dominance, the sounds of the first pre-club orgy well underway as the Cruz Cunts show the future club members just how things will be around here from now on. There’s not a stitch of clothing to be seen. Just the flesh of tits, cunts, ass, and well… dicks. Something I’ll have to get fucking used to given that a good old-fashioned orgy is a well-known event that happens inside an MC.
“Are you watching them fuck?” Cara hisses her question as she wraps her hand around the base of my nuts and gently squeezes.
“It’s like live porn,” I observe, and she snickers before grazing her tongue up my neck.
“It is,” Cara breathes against my ear. “The Cunts have done their research well, even though it’s not required. They aim to please.” She releases my balls and fists my cock. “Sasha has even mastered deepthroating. The men will love that.”
I growl, squeezing the bare round globes of her ass before giving one side a sharp slap.
She sucks in another hiss, and I growl, spinning us to slam her against the wall this time.
“Look at them.” I demand, watching her dark gaze shift from mine to the scene behind me. “Do you like live porn, Killer?”
A slow sensual smirk tugs at her lips before she drags her gaze away from our writhing members.
“I do, in fact. I like watching it. I even like participating in it,” her claw-like nails dig into my chin as she grips it forcefully, “but only with you. I will never share you with anyone.”
Baring my teeth, I growl like a fucking lion. “And I will never fucking share you either,” I declare before slamming my lips into hers.
She meets my kiss with ferocious need, her legs wrapping around me even as I lift her and slam my cock deep into her slick cunt.
She cries out, gripping my shoulders before our bodies fight for dominance again, each thrust met and claimed as we clash in a pounding frenzy.
My feet move, leading us on a wall bumping journey up the hallway, leaving the orgy in full swing before I push through the doors of church, and bend to place my wife on the new, yet old and distressed looking table.
“What are you doing?” Cara pants, not stopping her gyrating thrusts as our position changes. Her dark gaze glances over the room briefly, before a smirk tugs at her lips. “Really?”
I snap my teeth at her as I press my lips to hers before standing taller and looking down over her bouncing tits and flushed skin as I continue to pound into her over and over.
“What’s a church altar without a christening?”
Laughing, Cara nods. “You have a point. Let’s christen the fuck outta this table.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I agree before pressing my thumb to her swollen clit.
Cara’s back arches off the table, pressing her head into the carved Cruz Kings MC logo in the center, and a primal growl rips from me as I take in the sight of my stunning wife laid out on the table like a feast with the club logo behind her.
“Mine!” I roar, pistoning inside her as my thumb picks up speed on her needy bud.
“I’m-I’m—”
Cara’s strangled cry gets cut off as her walls tighten around me, and I speed up, pounding into her hard, hitting her as deep as I can go while mashing my thumb over her clit. I feel the moment when her first orgasm rolls into the next, and that’s when I finally let go, a roar ripping from my lungs as I throw my head back and shoot cum deep into her cunt.
I swear, it’s the longest climax I’ve ever fucking had, since Cara’s kept rolling and her walls continue to pulse around my hard length until I can’t take it anymore and jerk my dick free.
“Fuck, woman. You’re going to kill me.”
She giggles through her panting breaths, and nods. “Best way to die.”
I throw my head back with a laugh at her comment as she props herself up on her elbows to look at me.
“Well, that was something else.”
“Yeah.” I agree. “Sure fucking was.”
We beam at each other for a few beats before my eyes drop to her parted thighs, and the pool of cum oozing from her.
“You’re making a mess on the table, Killer.”
She shrugs. “It’s actually your mess. But like you said, it’s a christening.”
“Fuck.” I chuckle. “You’re right. But even so.” I lower myself down until I’m eye level with her exposed flesh.
“What are you doing?” Cara’s question sounds curious rather than concerned or confused, and I shoot her a wicked grin before I start scooping up the cooling cum with my fingers and push it back inside her.
“This was a gift. Don’t waste it.”
She giggles and tries to push my hand away. “Since we are never having children, I think your gift is wasted.”
I shake my head, pushing the last bit in before glancing up at her amused expression.
“The gift is for me.”
“For you?”
“Yes.” I nod, standing and holding my hand out to her. “I want to see it oozing down your thighs when we go back out there, and I want everyone to fucking see.”
Taking my hand, she grins and rolls her eyes. “Of course that’s what you want.”
I pull her up off the table, flush with my naked flesh as we take a moment to kiss again, then I spin her to face the table and point at the slick sheen left behind.
“You left a mess. Lick it up.”
An exasperated glare gets sent my way over her shoulder, so I slap her perky ass and press my lips to her ear.
“I gave you an order, mi reina. Today you obey me.”
A shiver runs up her spine, even as she reaches back and grips the top of my thighs with her clawed fingers. “Fine. I’ll submit now, but just so you know, you’ll be licking up your own cum tomorrow.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I rasp against her ear, and I see a smile lift her cheeks.
Releasing my thighs, Cara slowly, and very fucking sexily, leans down over the table and starts to lick up the mess we left.
I take a moment to step back and get a good look at the glistening lips of her cunt between her legs as she bends, and the trail of my cream starting to seep from inside her already.
“I hate to cut the orgy short,” Cain’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to glare at his tilted head as he studies my wife’s weeping cunt. “But I have to get back for a crew meeting.”
Cain’s eyes meet mine then, and any heat that was there a moment ago when he was ogling my wife slips away.
I stand slowly, watching Cain button up his jeans and looking kind of nervous.
“You will always have an open invitation to our orgies,” I tell him and fuck, a lump the size of an orange forms in my throat.
I feel Cara shift behind me before she wraps her arms around my middle, resting her head on my arm as she stares between us.
“Thank you,” Cain says, and I frown. I was expecting some sort of crude retort, or even a song about orgies, but he says nothing, just stands in the doorway and stares at me.
“Uh.” Cara clears her throat, “I’ll be right back.”
I frown as my wife steps around me, as naked as the day she was born before sauntering past Cain and out into the winding down orgy.
“You sure you have to go?” I ask Cain, my voice cracking a little like I’m a fucking teenager.
“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s time.”
Fuck.
Why is this such a big fucking deal?
Heat pricks at the back of my eyes as I stare at my best friend.
“Are you sure?” I ask, and he nods.
“I’m sure.” He clears his throat like he has a fucking lump the size of an orange lodged in there too.
“Here.” Cara’s voice joins us again as she tosses me my jeans, and I quickly step into them while she slips my t-shirt over her head, covering up.
“Thanks, Killer.” I offer her a warm smile, and she gives me a nod, already knowing what’s going on here.
“Don’t be a stranger.” Cara gains Cain’s attention as she steps up and gives him a hug, and I don’t even care that he holds her tighter than he should or that he lingers longer than is appropriate. He’s not trying to be creepy. He genuinely cares about Cara like a sister.
“Same goes for you, mi peque?o salvaje.” He rasps, and she pushes back from him.
“Dammit, Cain. You’re gonna make me cry. We are literally down the road. This isn’t goodbye.”
He nods slowly, like he doesn’t believe her.
Stepping out of the way, Cara excuses herself, leaving me with Cain again.
“She’s right. This isn’t goodbye,” I tell him and he shrugs.
“Not goodbye, but it’s the end of… us.” He chokes out, and I can’t fucking hold back. I storm over to him and grip his upper arms.
“Never. You and me, we are brothers no matter what. A different club or crew doesn’t change that. And we are still fighting on the same side. Just in different units.”
Cain’s eyes turn glassy, but no tears fall.
“It’s been what? Six? Seven years since the idea of forming an MC was discussed?” When I nod, Cain continues, his hands coming to my shoulders in a tight grip. “I thought it would be enough time for me to get used to the idea of not having you by my side. But it wasn’t.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, pulling him in for a manly hug, our bare chests clashing as we each pound a fist on each other’s backs. “The invitation for you to join the MC is always open as well. You know you’ll always be my right-hand man.”
Slowly pulling back, we drop our holds as Cain shakes his head.
“No. It can’t be like that anymore. From now on, Gray is your right-hand man.” He nods like it’s something he’s finally accepting. “And from now on, even though we will always be friends, we need to step into the roles of associates.”
He’s right. I know he is, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Cain has been on this ride with me for so long. I’m not sure how I will go without seeing him every couple of days.
“Thank you for everything,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say, and he grins.
“Thank me later when I video call you and show you my big cock sliding into the new Diamonds we recruited to replace the girls you stole.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t fucking steal them. Dante gave them to me.”
“Steal. Gave. Same difference.” He shrugs.
I chuckle as Cain does a twirl before giving me his back and strutting up the hallway like he’s a fucking king. It’s fucking hard to tell with that guy.
As soon as he steps out of sight, I turn and face the room, sad that the part of my life with Cain by my side is over, but excited to start the new one with my very own fucking MC.
“Are you ready?” Cara asks, and I turn back to see that she has re-dressed, much to my disappointment before she tosses my t-shirt at me, and I slip it on.
“Have they finished their fuck session?” I ask, referring to the members about to be sworn in.
“They have. They are ready.” Cara advises, approaching me with my cut in her hand. “Here you go. Prez.”
I snicker, shucking on the cut as Cara beams at me. “I wonder how long it will take for me to get used to that?”
“It won’t take you long since I plan on screaming, oh yes, Prez, right there, fuck me good, every time you claim me.”
Throwing my head back laughing, I pull my wife to my chest and claim her lips.
“I’ll hold you to that.” I rasp against her lips before we pull back, and a throat clears.
“Everyone is ready.” Gray declares, standing in the doorway, wearing his cut.
“Okay. Everyone can come in.”
A meeting of the MC is called church, and normally, only full patch members can attend, but since I am the only official patch member right now, I open the first meeting to everyone who is joining our ranks in one way or another.
As Cara takes my side, one by one, the men and women file in and stand in an arced line at the end of the small room.
“I am Rochus King, the President of the Cruz Kings MC. This MC is the first chapter of the Cruz Kings MC, and will be referred to as the mother charter.” I take a breath as Cara hands me the book of bylaws that we have spent the last few years creating. Prior to today, each invited member received a copy of our club rules which included the code of conduct and the code of silence, the latter being one of the most fundamental rules in an MC, ensuring members do not divulge any club secrets to the authorities and outsiders.
Today, they will sign the registry in acknowledgement of these rules, after they are sworn in.
“Each of you has been invited to join our ranks. Everyone has an important role, and as we grow bigger with more members, and more women, we will embrace this club like a family.”
Each person standing in line nods, even though they aren’t required to, and I feel a sense of pride.
“Will each recruiting patch member please step forward and place your fist over your heart.”
The men step forward in the line, several thumps sounding as they do as I ask with fierce determination.
My eyes travel over the men who are here today, in support of me, and what my club represents, and I know that even though these are grown men, I feel like they are my sons. My little brothers.
They all stand tall, like their fist over their hearts is a salute.
“Please swear your allegiance to me, as the founding father of the Cruz Kings MC, and the club and its members, and swear to uphold our values with honor, and protect each other with your life.”
Like they’ve rehearsed it for hours, the men talk in unison, declaring their allegiance.
“I swear my allegiance to our founding father, Rochus King, and the Cruz Kings MC and its members, both patch, and pussy. I swear to uphold the club values with honor and protect each member with my life.”
Another fucking lump forms in my throat as I take in each club brother, and the sheer loyalty already confirmed on their expressions.
Moving forward, I open the book of bylaws onto the registration page, and place it on the end of the table as Cara steps up with the patches in her hand.
“When I call your name, please step forward, and accept your patch, and sign your name against your role in the register.” I order, feeling a rush of excitement churn inside my chest. This is really happening.
“Grayson Black.” I announce, and the homeless looking kid that Dante took in all those years ago resembles a man now, the same age I was when Cara came back to me from prison. He stands tall, his dark waves tousled from the earlier activities, and he holds his chin up with pride.
“Do you accept the Vice President patch?” I ask, and like an obedient soldier, he nods.
“Yes. I accept with honor.” Gray’s dark eyes meet mine before I hand him his patch, and as he looks down at it, reading the words, Vice President, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
Gesturing to the book, he leans down and signs his name next to VP in the registry, before shaking my hand and taking a seat at the end of the table, to the right of my throne.
“Rodney Texas,” I call, and Tex steps forward, as we repeat the process, and he accepts the Treasurer patch.
“Gary Munroe,” I call, and Munroe steps forward, accepting the Secretary patch, again repeating the process.
Next, I call, “Billy O’Shaughnessy.”
Everyone glances around for a moment and Stretch chuckles as he steps forward. “People often think my nickname comes from my never-ending dick, but I first got it at school when a teacher said my name stretches so long.”
Everyone laughs as he steps up to accept his Road Captain patch before signing the book and taking a seat.
“Eddie Gunn,” I call, and Gunner steps forward. He’s spent the last few years growing a beard, wanting to represent an MC properly, his words, not mine. I offer him the Sergeant-at-Arms patch, and he accepts, happy to be our enforcer.
“Slasher and Slayer Long,” I call, and yes, their mother really called them that, which is fitting to the men they’ve grown into. I hand them identical badges, and they nod with pride as our Tail Gunners, the men who will ride at the back and ensure if anyone has to stop along our rides, that one of them remains with the member, as we never leave a brother behind.
As I take my seat at the end of the table, I gesture to Cara to proceed, and she turns to face the women left standing.
“Alana, Sasha, Rose, Cilla and Izzy. I am Cara King, the Mama of the Cruz Kings MC. You have been invited to join the ranks as a Cruz Cunt.”
I swear I’m about to fucking pound my fists against my chest with primal pride at my woman standing there, being the queen she is.
“Do you swear your allegiance to me, as your Mama C of the Cruz Kings MC, and to the President, Rochus King and his loyal members seated around this table?” Cara gestures to me and the men as we watch on, and each woman nods with enthusiasm.
“I do,” they say in unison like they are getting fucking married, and I suppose in a way they are. They are dedicating their lives to us, and in turn, we will protect them.
Cara steps up to each woman, and hands them a necklace. It’s nothing more than two letters on a thin silver chain. CC for Cruz Cunts. But it means more than two measly letters. It’s their version of a patch, linking them to us.
A couple of the women start crying as they accept the necklaces, all putting them on without question and then Cara asks them to sign the registry under the section marked ‘Cruz Cunts’.
Once they are done, they stand in their line at the end of the table looking at the official members of the Cruz Kings MC with huge smiles on their faces. And the biggest belongs to my wife as she stands with them.
It takes me a moment to clear my throat, and that fucking lump that keeps appearing today, but I glance around the table at my new family, ready to get this shit started and officially claim this territory.
“We will no doubt have some challenges ahead of us, but together we will stand, we will fight, and we will win. So my brothers, chant with me.”
Pride surges through my veins, as each man joins the chant as listed in the copy of the rules and code of conduct, each of them already knowing the words by heart.
With honor we ride, side by side. Brothers by choice. Brothers by heart. Brothers with pride. In this life and the next, together we fly. We are the Cruz Kings, ride or die.
My eyes find my wife’s again, as I announce that the men will spend the afternoon getting the Cruz King death head and name tattooed into their flesh to match mine, and as everyone’s attention is focused on me, I pick up the gavel, and close the very first church meeting with a thunderous slam.