there was no escaping the intrusion in her ass. Justice laughed at her plight. He continued to move both fingers back and forth until her resistance evolved into insistence. She relaxed as the muscles in her rectum became elastic and accepted the fingering without complaint.
“Oh, daddy, yes,” she groaned in what sounded like ecstasy. Justice knew he’d now broken her twice.
“They won’t be so willing to prepare you,” he warned.
His left hand mashed her lower back to press her abdomen into the barrier, while his right hand grabbed a full measure of dick. The head of his cock aimed at the newly violated anus. He jabbed his cock into her still saturated pussy to lube it up. He mixed his own spit with her vagina’s moisture and then pressed the spongy head against the tiny hole.
“I’m a big girl.”
What a glutton for punishment.
“You will be after I’ve used you.”
Justice’s mind seethed with a powerful penchant for causing pain. He inserted himself into her ass—tight. She bucked forward but the sawhorse stopped an escape. He felt the battle between his steady pressure and her muscles guarding entry. He released his shaft to grip both hips. Her back broke out into a glistening perspiration. Abigail’s hips swished side to side in a battle about to be lost.
“Let me suck you instead,” she gasped.
Justice ignored her. She wanted to become a part of his family, then she’d have to earn her position. There was only one position for women in the club—to service the brothers.
He pressed with a steady push until her ass opened against his pressure. Her gasp sounded like she’d sucked all the air out of the room. He hesitated once the ridge behind the swollen head of his throbbing dick felt her rectum close tight against it. He released her hips to allow them to buck wild as the confluence of pain and pleasure became sorted in her mind. She was primal in behaviors and easy to read. It wouldn’t be long until he’d broken her a third time.
“Oh, daddy. A little more please,” she asked hesitantly, but the low throttle in her tone signaled she’d turned the corner against resistance.
Justice wiped the sweat from his face and lifted the black t-shirt between his pelvis and her ass. Grimacing at the sight of himself disappearing into her virgin asshole, his excitement was heightened while he stroked his shaft until it slid the entire length into her.
Her back muscles tightened, and he saw her triceps strain as she squeezed the legs of the wooden barrier. “Fuck, daddy. How much more?” Sweat now covered her body despite the cold temperatures. A puddle was formed at the steel toes of his motorcycle boots.
“That’s almost all of it, baby girl. You want more?”
He bit the seam of his t-shirt after it had fallen back down between them. He didn’t want anything obstructing his view. He’d had plenty of anal sex, but most were with the random house mouse collections or the mamas who’d become property of the club. The opportunity to take someone’s ass for the first time exhilarated him. He’d been under tremendous pressure last week, so this offering wasn’t going unappreciated.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I guess it is.”
“You won’t break me. Fuck me.”
Yeah, a real glutton for punishment. Wait till I turn the others loose on her.
Justice clamped his teeth against the tattered Savage Souls t-shirt as beads of moisture soaked his clothing. He shivered at the sensation of the trickle 0f sweat that snaked its way down his back. His mind drifted between the present and the past as his hips locked into a steady rhythm of slamming into the fleshy mounds of her perfect ass.
She’d become inanimate. His eyes rocked back. Moans of pleasure turned angry and sinister. Justice knew his allotment of the seven deadly sins was wrath.
He’d delighted in it, in the wrath he caused America’s enemies. The violence against others while working with the CIA’s Special Activities Division’s SOG was addictive. It became useful as an unclaimed asset behind enemy lines. Justice adjusted his concept of survival with the knowledge that his government’s policy would disavow knowledge of his existence if compromised. The reality of his existence as a government operative honed his skills for survival and his thirst for killing.
Skirmishes continued daily as his mind battled over what he’d once done for his country versus what he’d done for his own desires. Justice not only mistrusted others, but an intense feeling of guilt had driven him to