Chapter 32
I click ‘replay’ again on the video for what must be the hundredth time.
The sounds of her moaning and fucking herself are a symphony.
Those ragged, needy breaths reaching a crescendo.
I strain to hear it, but my name is clear.
She stretches it out, ending her orgasm with a plaintive moan.
I curse that the camera is only in the living room.
She fucked herself, saying my name, and all I can witness is the lusty, desperate sounds she made while she climaxed.
Once the video continues with the sound of running water, I lean forward and replay the sound of my Countess one more time, enjoying her climax while I think about my next kill. It makes my blood lust feel stronger, the anticipation more intense.
The news from Riggs that another body had been found, this time one of our recruits, was making the hunt for every single Mestizo member all the more critical.
It was the body of one of the members who was found dumped outside the clubhouse.
It was a young recruit, and Riggs and I spent the last few days trying to keep everyone calm while also investigating the murder.
The police couldn’t be involved, but that didn’t matter.
We knew. The manner of death was brutal, haphazardly vicious.
The wounds were rushed. It was clear that the killing was a spontaneous act of revenge. The last shipment totaled over three dozen, and I couldn’t help but smile. El Jefe had lost possible millions on the human flesh he peddled. Bastard.
For every innocent woman, man, and child I save, I feel Ivory’s blessing. Her approval. She had died, fought against that fate for her daughter, and they ended up giving their lives. In some way, protecting them while I torture the men who prey on them makes the emptiness of my soul worthwhile.
If only we could remove Riggs’s brother from the helm of the Legion Lords, we could have more opportunities to change things, but to kill him would invite a new level of war.
One was enough. We were not prepared to enter into a civil war.
Many members were loyal to Hadrian and his new brand of evil.
The payoff for joining the Mestizos and aiding in their crimes was too great to resist.
Lying down on my bed, I stare at the ceiling and rest my phone on my chest, pressing play again, groaning as her breathy sounds come through the speakers.
Soon they lull me to sleep, and I smile, imagining what it would be like to hear those sounds in my ears as she rides me.
Or better yet, to listen to those same sounds, but this time they would be filled with pain.
Filled with pleas for me to make it hurt more.
Her eyes would be filled with tears and desire.
Tears from the beautiful pain that she would crave.
My cock is breaching her ass. I know for a fact my Countess hasn’t had her ass played with.
That virgin hole would submit so beautifully to my cock.
The piercings along my ridge would add to the sensations, pinching and burning.
I grip the sheets, twisting savagely in my fist, rhythmically raising my hips as I moan through the fantasy, the fetish of having her tear a little, cry out as I fucked her into the mattress.
Then I’d soothe the pain with my tongue, help her find pleasure once my cum oozed out of that tight ring of muscle.
My body begs for release, but I won’t give in. I won’t come. The denial is what I like. The pain in my cock feels fantastic. I let the dream take me and fuck my phantom countess all night.
I should be rested since I slept for hours, but instead of relaxation, I’m agitated.
After fucking Camryn in my dreams, breaching every hole on her body with my dick, fingers, and tongue, I’m ready to face another day of knowing she’s right next door.
It pissed me off to wake up with my real cock aching, wanting to be back in the fantasy warmth of her pussy.
I walk into the shop and stop short when I see the same woman I bent like a pretzel while I nicked her skin with the tip of my knife.
My eyes go down to her fucking short skirt, sitting on my chair, flipping through my fucking magazines.
My eyes roam her body. Jesus Christ. Her long black hair is loose, creating a waterfall over her shoulder.
Her T-shirt is cute, too. Pink. A bearded dragon is on the front with the words ‘Bearded Mama,’ on the front.
Her jeans skirt is too damn short. Christ, I sound like an old man.
But I don’t want those long legs visible to anyone, least of all me, because I don’t have much control where she’s concerned.
My obsessive lust is for the shadows, not for 10 fucking a.m. She’s testing my limits.
Annoyed, I stalk past her and drop Onyx’s fancy ass coffee on the counter, sloshing it on the countertop. She looks up and glances at me. Her face expressionless, before looking back down at her magazine, flipping the pages slowly.
The black coffee burns my tongue, and I hiss.
I can feel Camryn’s stare, but I don’t even look at her, too afraid my eyes will travel down to her slim, sleek thigh where she crossed her legs.
She’s wearing sneakers with socks. I breathe in and smell her scent that mixes with the aroma of rich coffee.
She smells like a fucking dream. Turpentine and something fresh and flowery.
I imagine her pussy has that same delicious smell.
Damn her. I head to the office irritated with myself.
I should just take her. Bring her upstairs and eat her pussy and be done with it, but her brother mentally stops me.
Sitting at my desk, I try to concentrate, but I want to know why she’s here.
I make my way back out and see Onyx sitting next to her, pointing to his notebook. My body clenches. It’s his tattoo sketch book. She’s getting a tattoo. But I want to hear it from her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
She jumps, startled, and looks up at me, her eyes wide.
Onyx answers even though the question wasn’t for him.
“She’s getting a tattoo.”
“The fuck she is.”
“Excuse me?” Camryn stands up and stalks over to me. “I’m right here, asshole. Don’t talk about me like I’m not!”
My hands itch to slap her ass for her bitchy attitude, and then cuff her neck with my fingers and palm while I push my fist inside her pussy when I ask her to repeat what she said in that prim and proper tone.
“What is your problem? Is this a tattoo shop or not?”
“Yes,” I grit out, trying not to breathe in her scent.
“Then I want a tattoo.”
“No.”
“Yes,” She barks, her eyes brows slashing down.
“Set up an appointment somewhere else.”
“I already have an appointment. With Onyx.”
I look over at one of my best friends. He shrugs, seemingly indifferent, but I see something in his eyes, something that lets me know what he plans on saying next is going to piss me the fuck off.
“Inner thigh tattoo.”
Yup. There it is. I turn to my little Countess just in time to see her smirk. “What did you say?” I ask him, but keep my eyes on her.
“He said he’s doing my inner thigh tattoo. Now if you don’t mind, Onyx and I were discussing the design.” She moves back to Onyx and sits next to him, and leans over his arm. I want to kill him when I see her breasts touch his arm. “You were saying, Onyx?”
Onyx’s lips tilt up, and I know he finds this humorous. Bastard. He opens his mouth, and I interrupt him. “You are not getting the tattoo. We have a wait policy of 48 hours.”
This time, Onyx does smile. It’s rare. He stands walking away. I’m lying my ass off, and he knows it. We do walk-in tattoos all the time.
“You can’t do that! He’s already started the design. I already paid!” Onyx doesn’t answer her, but heads to his office. The door closes softly. “You asshole!” She gets right in my face, and I grab her wrist. “Let me go!” She tugs, and I pull her closer, getting close to her face.
“Shut up,” I growl, the possessiveness clouding my rational thought.
She’s here. Trying to get a tattoo on a part of her body that I crave, that I want to bite and cut and ejaculate all over.
No part of her body is allowed to be touched by anyone but me.
Onyx was right to haul ass. He’s already witnessed my irrational jealousy over her.
Reed Spencer was found two weeks ago, decomposing badly in a dirty alley, a drug deal gone wrong, according to news reports.
It was reported that he had been robbed during an apparent drug deal.
From the amount of drug paraphernalia found in is apartment he was desperate to feed his growing addiction.
Opiates were also found in his system during his autopsy.
Toxicology reports done by the coroner’s office revealed that he had taken a high dose of fentanyl before his death.
“Fuck you!”
My girl damn near spits in my face. Her in a temper is a tantalizing sight to see. She tears her hand away, and I let her. “You’re playing with fire. Let’s see if you can handle the heat.”
“What the fuck does that even mean!?” Camryn opens her arms, waving them around. “What is your problem?! You are so confusing.”
“It means you want a tattoo. Fine. But the only one inking you, is me.”
“But I don’t want you to do it, dammit. I want Onyx to do it!”
“Too fucking bad.”
“No, not too bad. I’m going somewhere else. You’re not the only tattoo shop around.”
She tries to walk around me and capture her hand again and bring her closer, as close as I dare, before I strip her naked right here and fuck her in full view of anyone who might walk in.
“You want a tattoo, then by all means, let’s give you tattoo.
One you won’t forget.” I pull her towards my office, full of rage.
No man, and I repeat no one, is getting close to her pussy.
I’ll kill him on the spot. Onyx is my brother, beyond blood, but the thought of him touching her skin, getting that close to her pussy is a fuck no.
Whether I can have her or not, Camryn’s first ink will be mine.