Chapter Twenty #2
She comes all over my hand, gushing hot, and collapses forward, arse still raised high, plug glinting.
I pull my fingers free slow and stand. Look down at the beautiful little plug with my Celtic knot on the base, peeking perfectly from her stretched arse.
“Now the rules.”
I turn her around with steady pressure. She whimpers softly, body limp and glowing. I open my legs and press my weight on her, pinning her.
“Rules?” She stutters, voice hoarse, eyes wide with aftershock.
“For the plug, trouble.” I lean in, face inches from hers, heat shared. Then I pull her with me and push her to the floor. She drops to her knees, hands bracing in front, breath ragged.
“Eyes on me.” I order, and she obeys, looking up through heavy lids, cheeks flushed deep red, lips parted.
“Rule one.” I step back to take in the sight: her on her knees, head tilted up to hold my stare, hands resting on her lap without a word from me.
Perfect submission. “You’ll wear it for three hours today.
Tomorrow we size up, and you’ll wear it for four.
By the end of the week, you’ll sleep with the biggest one. ”
She nods once, quick, but I catch the fear flickering in her eyes, mixing with the heat. Good girl. Exactly how I want her.
“Rule two: Only I take it out. If you remove it without permission, I’ll punish you with my belt and double the time the next day.” I walk to the chair and sit heavily, legs spread wide, cock straining painfully against the zipper, pulse throbbing.
“Rule three: You’ll keep your legs closed when sitting, unless I say otherwise. You’ll feel it every time you move. Every shift. Every breath.”
I look at her hard. She’s still flushed crimson, thighs rubbing subtly together, hands fidgeting on her lap.
“Understood?” I ask, voice steel.
She nods once again, slower this time, swallowing hard.
I stand up, fluid, and walk to the door. “I’ll be back in three hours.”
Closing the door, I let out a slow breath, cracking my neck side to side, tension easing just a fraction.
Shit, I need to fight, but there is no way I’m leaving her here. The thought crosses my mind, and I grin darkly, satisfaction curling hot.
I open the door again, and she jumps from the bed, eyes wide. “Get dressed. We are going out.”
“What?” She stands quickly and winces, crossing her legs tight, thighs pressing together. I laugh low, the sound rumbling from my chest. “No sudden moves. Now get dressed.”
“And the plug?” She waves a hand, pissed off, cheeks flushing deeper.
“It’s coming too.” I close the door firmly and head to my bedroom. Grab my phone from the bed and text Kaden.
“Get the bikes out and one extra helmet.”
Thirty minutes later she walks out the front door, steps cautious, that subtle shift in her hips giving her away. “I thought I wasn’t safe outside these walls.” She frowns, arms crossing under her breasts.
I point to the seven bikes lined up gleaming. “You will be safe. Trust me.” Six of my men will ride along with Kaden, black gear and hard eyes.
She looks at my bike, a black beast of chrome and power, and shakes her head slow. “No, Flynn.” She whispers, eyes wide open, pulse jumping at her throat.
“Why not?” I cross my arms and lean casually on the bike, but my blood hums.
“You know why!” Her voice is low but on edge, body strung tight. I push off the bike and stalk towards her. Place the helmet on her head gently, buckling it under her chin as Kaden steps behind with the protection jacket, sliding it over her shoulders.
She rolls her eyes, but the fire in them sparks hotter.
“We are all linked, so anything you say, Kaden will hear it.” I warn low, and she gives me a death stare that only makes me harder.
I climb on the bike and offer my hand. She stares at it for a beat, defiant, but finally grabs hold and climbs up behind me. When she sits down, she gasps. “Oh my fucking.” She stops herself abruptly, biting her lip. Kaden asks over comms if everything is fine. I chuckle deeply.
“Everything is perfect.” The bike roars to life, and I pull out onto the main road, throttle twisting.
I ride front with Kaden tight next to me, my men all in black bikes and black gear following close behind, formation iron. Her hands wrap around my waist hard, fingers digging in like she’s afraid to let go. “Ever been on a bike?” I ask over the wind, voice steady.
She murmurs a no against my back.
“Another first with me, uh?” I lick my lips, tasting the rush. She’s too innocent, even after running from a stalker for years, and now she will have another first, plugged and pressed to me.
We head to the docks. Park the bikes in a neat row. I help her off before me, steadying her wobble. She removes the helmet and almost swings it at my stomach, eyes blazing.
“Here, asshole.” She grunts, shoving it into my chest.
I lean closer, breath mingling. “You didn’t call me asshole an hour ago.” I remind her, and her cheeks bloom red instantly, heat rising.
“Go to hell.” She whispers fiercely, but her eyes drop to my mouth for a second.
I give her half a smile. Kaden walks ahead, and we follow. Half my men stay outside on watch; the others enter with us, dividing smoothly around the warehouse. I usually come alone, but Autumn has a target on her back, and there is no way I’m risking her life.
“Where are we?” She stops dead, staring at the ring in the centre, lights harsh and crowd buzzing.
I walk up behind her, hand brushing her lower back. “One of the rings owned by a friend.” I watch her eyes dart all over, taking in the sweat and blood scent, cheeks blooming red again with that mix of thrill and nerves.
“Flynn.” Christian shows up, gaze flicking to her then back to me with surprise clear in his eyes. I’ve never brought a woman here. Never.
“I’m next.” I tell him flat, and he nods quickly.
We walk towards the left side, and Autumn keeps looking around, body alert. She’s wearing loose jeans and a sweater that rides up to show her stomach when she moves, breasts full enough to catch every bastard’s attention. I want to kill every fucker in this place who looks too long.
I strip my jacket and shirt off slow, muscles flexing under ink. Her mouth drops open, breath catching. “You are not going to fight, right?” She grabs my arm, pulling me closer, nails digging into my skin.
“Are you worried about me, trouble?” I tease, but her eyes flick over my shoulder, and real fear flashes there, tightening my gut.
“He’s huge, Flynn.” She whispers, tugging me nearer, body pressing instinctively.
“So you do care about me.” I joke, but my chest warms unexpectedly.
“Are you cracking jokes right now?” She snaps, voice pitching higher. Kaden laughs from the side.
She turns to him. “Are you letting him do this?” Kaden just nods calmly, sitting down on one of the chairs next to the ring.
The announcer booms my name and the fucker’s. “Sit. Slowly.” I grin wide. She rolls her eyes hard but hasn’t let go of my arm yet, fingers trembling. “Autumn.” I warn low and look down at her hand. She removes it reluctantly, heading towards Kaden with careful steps.
The bell rings, and the fucker lunges first, a lumbering bull swinging wild haymakers. I slip left easy, his fist whistling past my ear. Crowd roars muffled. I counter crisp: jab to the ribs, crack loud enough to feel in my knuckles. He grunts, stumbles, but swings back sloppily.
I dance light on my feet, control locked tight. Circle him slow, eyes on his tells: shoulder twitch before the hook, weight shift for the uppercut. Another dodge. My elbow snaps into his jaw, spinning his head. Blood sprays the canvas, metallic tang hitting the air.
He charges blind, arms wrapping my waist for a takedown. I sprawl hard, knees driving into his chest, then hammer fists down his guard. Controlled and precise.
Veins bulge thick along my forearms with every strike, ink rippling over flexing muscle. Abs clench iron as I pivot, boot stomping his thigh to buckle him.
He drops to a knee, gasping. I could end it clean: choke or ground-and-pound. But I toy, my satisfaction humming. Hook to the body, cross to the temple. He sways, eyes glazing.
Then he spits blood, grins ugly through swollen lips, and points straight at Autumn in the front row. “If I win, I’m taking her.” Voice gravel, loud enough for the mic to catch. “Gonna fuck that sweet mouth till she forgets your name.”
Everything snaps.
Red floods my vision. Animal roars awake in my chest. Control? Gone.
I charge. No dance. Pure rage.
Grab his throat mid-rise, slam him to the mat with a thud that shakes the ring.
Mount him, knees pinning arms. Fists rain savage: right to cheekbone, crack.
Left to nose, cartilage crunch. Blood splatters my chest, hot and slick.
He bucks weakly, but I’m a storm. Elbow drops to temple, again, again.
Veins throb furious from neck to fists, muscles bulging obscenely under ink and sweat.
Roar rips from my throat like fucking thunder.
He gurgles, tries to tap. I don’t see it. Only her. Mine.
Ref hauls me off finally, arms locking mine like steel bands. Kaden vaults the ropes, stepping square in front of me, hands on my shoulders. “Flynn, you with me, mate?”
I nod, but my eyes stay glued on her, chest heaving, blood roaring in my ears.
I climb down from the ring, boots thudding canvas to concrete. Grab her waist hard, fingers digging possessively into soft flesh, and yank her flush against me. Heat to heat. Sweat-slick skin sticking.
“Mine.” I groan low, a feral rumble vibrating between us.
Then I smash my lips into hers, and it’s claiming, brutal; my tongue forces between her lips, invading deep, tasting her shock, her heat.
I angle her head with a fist in her hair, devouring her like I’ll swallow her whole.
Crowd goes dead silent, the air thick. They know who I am, what I do.
Every bastard here is tied to the Consortium.
Tomorrow all the families will know, but I don’t give a fuck.
She melts into me, hands fisting my blood-spattered chest, then kisses back hungry, nails scraping ink.
Mine.
Marked in front of them all.