Chapter 5
5
Robyn
M y core screams for more.
I look up at Knox, my fingers hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. His broad chest greets me with fine, golden curls and hardened nipples. I bite my lower lip as I hear Jagger’s clothes shuffle onto the floor, and I glance over my shoulder to look at him—ropes of muscles twitching beneath the smoothest skin.
My eyes marvel at the deep, dark shades of the tattoos covering their bodies. Diesel’s ink only reaches down his back and over his arms and bulky shoulders, but I see plenty of battle scars too. Their bodies have survived wars, bloody battles, and the kind of violence I’ve only ever witnessed in movies from the comfort of my sofa.
Their bodies tell stories I’m dying to hear.
To feel.
To taste.
My lips close around Knox’s nipple, the sound of his grunt sending sparks flying through my veins.
“Robyn, we’re going all the way tonight, you realize that don’t you?” he says.
“I do.”
He pulls me into a kiss. The hunger dissolves the last of my doubts about this, while liquid heat trickles down the inside of my thighs.
“It’s too late to pull back, now,” Knox replies.
“I don’t want to pull back.”
Jagger leans in and plants a kiss on my bare shoulder, while his hands reach around. He kneads my breasts and licks the side of my neck, obliterating every single rational thought in my head.
“We need you to submit,” he whispers in my ear, while his thumb and index fingers pinch my nipples tighter and tighter until the hottest, sweetest sting spreads through my ribcage. “Submit to us, Robyn.”
“Oh, I do… I do…”
For four years, I’ve been by myself, healing from Calvin’s emotional and physical abuse. Getting out of survival mode and learning to experience life again. Diesel, Jagger, and Knox have a firm hold on me, but they inspire safety. My ex-husband had me walking on eggshells. These three have me pining for more, for everything they wish to give me.
“You have complete control here,” Knox gently reminds me.
I needed to hear that, I think, because I’m filled with a sense of power. And so many fantasies bursting through the fabric of reality itself.
They’re the only ones who make me feel this way: their rough, firm hands, their strong bodies and dominating personalities… I have no choice but to submit because nothing else makes sense. I want this. It may be a leap of faith considering what I went through, but they’ve proven themselves to me so many times.
“If you trust us,” Knox says, “you’re going to have to trust us all the way. And if you want to be ours, you’ve got to really be ours body and soul, Robyn.”
“Take me,” I reply, my knees shaking with ardent anticipation.
A devilish grin slits his face. I glance down and marvel at the sheer size of him. My hand reaches out. I want to stroke his magnificent cock before I take him inside me, but Diesel has other plans.
“Don’t move,” he says.
“Why?”
He squeezes my ass, and I yelp, then giggle with surprise. I love the feeling, the way my heart jumps and my skin catches fire.
“I gave you an order,” Diesel commands me. “What do you say when I give you an order, baby?”
“Okay…” His fingers dig into my buttock, causing my core to tighten and my pussy to ache. My breasts bounce softly as I straighten my back. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Knox walks over to his desk and returns with a pair of leather cuffs connected by a long, stainless steel chain. “You are safe with us, you know that, right?”
“Yes, sir.” I love the sound of these words.
“Then you will follow our lead,” he says and puts the cuffs on me. So commanding, yet so tender. The cuffs are tight but comfortable, he makes sure of it. I gasp when he yanks the chain upward and connects it to a hook, hanging from the ceiling. I didn’t even notice it until now. “Hold on to the chains, Robyn.”
I nod again, my breath quickening as I follow his lead.
My hands are way up over my head. A cool breeze dances around my naked body as the three men, the three, giant, godlike sculpted former Marines prowl around me like ravenous lions. Their fingers roam freely. Their hands take over, touching, grazing, caressing and exploring me. Every contact turns me on, hotter and hotter with each passing second.
“Do you like this?” Jagger asks.
“Yes, sir… OH, fuck!” I hiss as he grabs my left breast and squeezes it tightly. “Yes, sir… YES!” I cry out as Diesel’s hand comes down and fondles my ass again, then gently slaps it. Just a pat. Just enough to make me lose my mind. “OH, FUCK, yes!” I shudder and damn near come again when Knox slips a hand between my legs and strokes my clit—hard and decisive, instantly turning the engine all the way on. “Fuck… Fuck… Oh, please…”
My eyes lock on Knox’s.
Diesel strokes himself with slow and steady moves. Jagger is so hard; I can feel the vein pulsating along his magnificent shaft as he nestles his cock between my buttocks.
“Tell us what you want, baby,” Knox says.
“You,” I manage, tilting my hips back to open myself more for Jagger. “I want you. I need you inside me. Please.”
“Jagger will take you first,” Knox replies. “He’ll take you hard, Robyn. He likes it rough.”
“Yes, sir—AH!” I scream as Jagger spears me with his full length. Oh, fuck, it feels amazing. I’m stretched wide and filled to the brim as I hang from these cuffs, as Knox grins and continues to tease my clit while Jagger pumps me full of him.
Harder.
Deeper.
Faster.
I cry out, the pressure building in my womb as Jagger’s fingers dig into my hips. As Knox flicks my clit with just enough force to elicit a second orgasm. I come gushing like a fountain while Jagger fucks me like a beast, taking me from behind like there’s no tomorrow. It’s rough, yes, but in a way that makes me crave so much more.
My breasts bounce with every thrust.
I don’t want it to ever end.
I’m slick and tender on the inside, my juices flowing freely. The sound of skin slapping skin intensifies as Diesel pulls me into a kiss, as Knox flicks my clit until I can’t stand to be touched anymore, yet he persists.
“Come again, baby,” Jagger grunts as he goes deeper. I can feel him in my soul. “Come, Robyn. I need you to come.”
“Oh, fuck!” I’m about to scream as a third release comes through, but Diesel muffles it with another kiss. I ride it hard and feel Jagger as he explodes deep inside of me.
“Yes, baby, I feel you,” he growls as his cock twitches, as the heat spreads through my core.
The daze that follows is short because Diesel takes Jagger’s place.
“Come here,” Jagger kisses me softly.
Knox keeps watching me, his gaze burning blue as he strokes himself while Diesel slides into me.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Diesel snarls as he slaps my ass.
“Make me come again,” I manage, my toes curling into the floor.
I bite my lower lip as Knox inches closer. His fingers find my clit glazed and swollen, ready for more. My cheeks burn red as Diesel keeps taking me closer to the ultimate edge. Harder, faster he goes as the chains on my cuffs clink. Harder, deeper he goes as Knox strokes me into madness.
Sweet, sweet madness.
“You’re loving this,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
“Would you like to come again?” Knox asks.
“Yes, sir.”
Diesel cuts in. “I’m almost… there…”
He’s got both hands firmly gripping my hips. Thrusting. Grunting. I’m crying out in agony and ecstasy while Knox keeps bringing me closer to the grand finale, then edging me until I lose my fucking senses, until I end up begging. The tension in my body is just too much to bear.
“Please,” I moan.
Diesel bites into my shoulder. He holds me tight and pounds into me. A beast of a man, as Knox finally obliges me. His fingers work their magic in perfect synchronization with Diesel’s thrusts. He kisses me to muffle my frantic screams as I explode all over Diesel, sweat dripping down my temples as he spills his seed inside me.
I’m lost in the blue pools of Knox’s eyes as I welcome every drop of Diesel, as I consume his flesh without regret.
“It’s my turn,” Knox mutters and licks my lower lip.
“Yes, sir,” I giggle, drowning in the dizzying afterglow.
But he walks back to his desk while I watch him curiously.
Jagger chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll never forget this ride.”
“Oh,” I mumble as Knox returns with a thick ring-like device made of stainless steel. He presses a thumb onto the side, and a LED light comes on, followed by an unending buzzing sound. “Oh, fuck…”
It’s a vibrator.
And I’m over the full moon, knowing damn well what that means.
“Hold on, baby,” Knox kisses me again, then slips the vibrating ring on his cock, letting it rest at the base.
I yelp when Diesel and Jagger lift me off the ground, each with a leg as they help me straddle Knox. He plunges deep inside me, and I shudder, close to fainting as an avalanche of sensations washes over me. I hold on for dear life as Diesel and Jagger watch.
“Yes…” I groan as Knox gives me a moment to adjust to the feeling.
He’s huge, thick, and long as hell. I’ve got my legs tightly wound around his narrow hips, the vibrator setting my pussy ablaze. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for an orgasm to test my limits. I didn’t think it was possible, but the pressure is undeniably clear.
Knox fucks my lights out. Hard. Fast. He holds me firmly by the ass, while Diesel and Jagger go to town on my breasts. Licking. Kissing. Suckling and nipping the nipples until I cave in. I cry out, trembling and flailing and twitching all over. I come hard, rippling outward… exploding like a newborn sun.
“You’re fucking perfect,” Knox growls as he takes me. “You were made for us, Robyn. Your pussy, your body, your soul… Made for us.”
“Don’t stop, please!” I cry tears of joy as I marvel at how much my body is eager to take for limitless bliss. “Don’t stop…”
As the three of them take good, sweet care of me while I drift into a shimmering afterglow and exhaustion numbs my brain altogether, I realize I can never go back to the way it was between us. I cannot, nor do I want to.
The days go by in relative silence.
By silence, I mean there’s no Calvin in sight. Rumors fly around Redwood aplenty about him, of course, and I register the curious, sometimes worried looks of the townspeople when I’m out, but other than that, there’s nothing, except for a Rogue Rider always watching my back.
There’s no real sense of safety either, though.
When I’m with Knox, Jagger, and Diesel, I’m safe. I could take on an army of Calvins if I had to. But when I’m away from them, doubt slips through. Bad thoughts fester. And despite their promises and reassurances, I still can’t help but look over my shoulder.
“Mommy.”
Summer is over. I can see it in the trees. Their green leaves slowly turn yellow. I can smell it in the air. The afternoons are getting cooler, the nights longer.
“Mommy!” Kyra’s voice drags me back to reality.
“Yes, honey. Sorry. I was thinking about something,” I say, firmly holding her hand as we walk across the street to our favorite diner. I’ve had a long day at work, and it’s Friday evening, so I figured I’d treat us to dinner instead of cooking. “What’s up?”
“What if they don’t have pecan pie?” she asks.
Pilar’s Diner is one of the best places in Redwood. Their pecan pie is so good, in fact, that it was voted the best in the district at last year’s autumn fair.
“Oh, I’m sure they have it,” I tell her.
“They didn’t have it last week.”
Kyra sounds genuinely worried, and it’s the sweetest thing. I can’t take her too seriously, though, not when she’s wearing that adorable, pale pink tracksuit with white strips on the sides.
“Well, that’s because the pecans weren’t ready yet, remember? Pilar told us.”
“Yeah, but what if they’re not ready this time either?”
“They’ve got other pies on the menu, honey. You loved the pumpkin pie last year. The one with nutmeg and a dollop of whipped cream on top? I’m pretty sure I have photographic evidence.”
“Maybe,” she concedes.
Pilar comes out to greet us with a warm smile, a smudge of blueberry jam streaked across her dainty white and green apron; it matches the colors of the diner itself, with its soft white walls laced with delicate green vertical stripes.
“Hello, ladies! Long time, no see!” Pilar says, smiling at Kyra. “How’ve you been, Kyra?”
“We were here last week,” my daughter reminds her in a rather flat tone.
“Kyra is worried you don’t have any pecan pie again today,” I chuckle lightly.
“Well, Kyra, I do have it, and I actually saved you a couple of slices just in case you popped by,” Pilar replies, then politely escorts us to our table as my daughter lets out a happy squeal.
Kyra chimes in, pretending to read the menu, “Where’s the pie?”
Pilar laughs wholeheartedly. “I’ll bring it right over. Shall I throw in a cinnamon shake to wash it down with?”
“Yes, please!”
“Two, please,” I add.
I give Kyra a moment to decompress, her gaze wandering over the food photos on the diner’s menu. She’s easily distracted when she’s tired, so I know I’ve got a few minutes of quiet before she demands my attention again. Checking my phone, I only see a few messages from Ellie. A text from Knox comes in just as I’m about to put my phone down.
You two look pretty in pink , he writes.
My cheeks catch fire as I realize he’s watching us. Looking around, I don’t see him in the diner. There are only a couple of families holding the fort down here at this hour. Outside, however, I spot the Harley parked across the street, Knox leaning against it, wearing jeans and a leather jacket with the club patches proudly displayed on the upper sleeves.
He's smiling, so I give him a discrete wave, then text him back.
You’re our security detail for the night?
Yes, ma’am. Better leave the bedroom window open tonight. I intend to make a house call, he replies.
That makes my core tingle with excitement. I love it when it’s the four of us together, but I absolutely adore the moments we get to spend in one-on-one sessions as well. Individually, they are remarkably different from one another. I certainly enjoy peeling away every layer, getting deeper and closer each time.
Have you seen him anywhere ? I text Knox.
Not yet. The other MC members did spot him around town, but they haven’t been able to tail him anywhere. He’s a slippery SOB.
“Figures,” I mutter mostly to myself. Calvin has always been a slippery prick.
“Okay, the pies are still quite fresh,” Pilar says as she returns with a loaded tray for us. “Two pecans, two cinnamon shakes, and I threw in a basket of bacon and cheddar fries for you ladies to nibble on.”
She sets everything on the table, while Kyra’s eyes light up at the sight of the pie. It’s as if she’s gazing upon the Holy Grail itself.
“Thank you, Pilar, you’re way too kind as always,” I tell our good friend.
“Don’t mention it, querida. It’s never a bother, not with you,” she replies and gives me a subtly worried look as she lowers her voice. Simultaneously, Kyra gets a hold of her fork and gets to work on her pie. “Have you seen him yet?” she asks, keeping her voice low.
“No,” I say. “I hope I never see him again.”
“You still have my home number, right?” she asks.
“I have your cell number too,” I say with a smile. “Nobody calls a landline these days, Pilar.”
“Well, you call me if you need me, okay?”
I give her a nod. “I will. I promise.”
“Alright, then, I’ll leave you ladies to enjoy your meal,” Pilar says and heads back to the counter as new customers come into the diner.
“Thank you, Pili!”
For a moment, I’m frozen on the spot and glued to my seat. One of the men who just walked in looks a bit too much like Calvin. It’s not him, but the resemblance alone is enough to fill me with dread as I take a deep breath and muster the strength to pretend there’s nothing wrong.
“Mommy, you look worried,” Kyra declares as she prepares to take a bite of her pie.
“I do?” I ask her, fingers already on my touchscreen keyboard. I ask Knox to join us, if only so I can feel him closer; so I can feel safer.
“Is Daddy coming back?”
My stomach drops. “Whoa. Where’s that question coming from, honey?”
“I heard two of the teachers talking.”
“Where?”
“In the hall when I was coming back from the bathroom,” she says. “I heard Miss Smith tell Mrs. Lister that my dad was back, and they were worried about me.”
It’s not a conversation I wanted to have anytime soon, but I guess I can’t avoid it. Just as Knox comes in, I give Kyra a soft, tender smile. “Honey, it’s true. Your dad is back in town, but I haven’t seen him at all.”
Knox reaches our table, pausing to look at us—particularly at Kyra.
“You said Daddy’s a bad man,” she says, then notices Knox. “Uncle Knox!”
“Hello, princess,” he chuckles and takes a seat next to me. “That pie looks fantastic.”
“It’s so good!” she says, nodding at her plate. “Do you want some?”
“Here, you can have all of it,” I say and I give him mine. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“What’s up?” Knox asks, noticing my muted discomfort.
“Daddy’s back and my teachers are worried,” Kyra answers for me.
“Is that right?” he asks,
All I can do is sigh while he takes a fork and splits the pie slice into two even pieces.
“She overheard teachers talking in the hallway,” I offer.
“You’re going to eat half of this,” Knox replies with incredible calm. I see the muscle ticking in his square jaw, but his gaze remains soft as it bounces between my daughter and me. “No ifs, ands, or buts.”
“I’m not hungry,” I insist, choosing to take a sip from my cinnamon milkshake instead.
“I wasn’t asking,” he shoots back. “Besides, you don’t eat pecan pie because you’re hungry.”
“You eat it because you love it,” Kyra says and giggles, working tirelessly on her slice.
Knox hands me a fork. “Dig in.”
“Knox…”
“You are not letting anyone or anything ruin these small but precious moments,” he says, peering deep into my soul. The scent of his cologne mingles with a whiff of gas and oil from his motorcycle, filling my lungs and getting me drunk on feelings I didn’t think I’d ever experience again. “Robyn, you’re safe. I’m here with you. And I’m asking you, please, enjoy your pie. Isn’t that right, Kyra?”
“That’s right!”
I can’t fight the two of them, so I take the fork and get to work but it doesn’t taste quite right. My appetite has been wonky over the past few days. I just don’t understand why Calvin hasn’t shown up at my doorstep or something; I’d assumed it would be his first move.
“See? Great pie.” Knox gives me a playful wink.
I can’t wait to leave the bedroom window slightly ajar tonight. It won’t be the first time he’s climbed up the lattice like a horny teenager. Luckily, Kyra is a heavy sleeper, and she knows to call out for me if she needs something.
“You’re right,” I tell him, then a thought crosses my mind. “I haven’t seen Paulie tailing us since the morning after you told me about Calvin. Is he okay?”
“Yeah, we’re having him comb through Redwood and the surrounding area with a couple of prospects, patrolling, so to speak,” Knox says.
“What for?”
“Just to keep an eye on things. There have been sightings, but I swear it’s like searching for Bigfoot or something,” he mutters.
“How is he, though, Paulie, with all of this?”
“I think he’s alright. It can’t be easy. They used to be thick as thieves. It broke his heart to turn his back on Calvin when it came down to the club, but Paulie doesn’t have any regrets on the matter. He never had them,” Knox says. “He understood that Calvin was in so deep, there was no pulling him back. And, at the end of the day, Paulie chose the Rogue Riders. He’s been a loyal member ever since.”
“You trust him?”
“He’s given us no reason not to.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I got the same vibe from him when we talked about Calvin. I feel sorry for him, truth be told.”
“Don’t feel sorry,” he says, then looks at Kyra. “The man made his bed, and now he has to sleep in it.”
“Except he’s not sleeping in it anymore; parole be damned,” I say with a sharp exhale.
“We’re still trying to figure out what happened. I asked our club lawyer to look into it. He agreed it was a tad too early for parole given the verdict and the sentencing,” Knox replies. “He said there shouldn’t have been any shot at parole within the first six years.”
“Maybe someone pulled some strings to get him out?”
“Or he cooperated with the Feds on something,” he surmises. “It’s a possibility.”
A different kind of worry starts gnawing through my stomach, and there’s not enough pecan pie in the world to soothe this feeling.
“Do you think he gave the Feds intel about the club?” I ask Knox, while keeping an eye on Kyra.
“Maybe. But we’ve been on the right side of the law for years now. They’ve got nothing on us. We even file our tax returns on time,” he says.
“What about from before?”
At this point, Knox gives me a sly grin. “We’re still waiting for the statute of limitations to expire on a couple of possible threads, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re good, Robyn. I promise.”
We’re good.
I believe him.
Or I want to believe him; I really do.
But the devil is loose, and until I face him, I don’t think I’ll know how good we truly are.