that at first, I can’t imagine him letting anyone get their hands on me. He broke Whistler’s hand for even trying. And yet, this is a man who tortured me with a knife.
How, I don’t know, but while the thought of any man here touching me now scares me, imagining myself lying across that pool table while Spider allows whomever he wants to take me makes my whole body hum.
Rattler isn’t there now, and I do a double take realizing who’s moving in to take his place.
Striker. I gulp. He’s turned her over onto her stomach and dragged her so that her feet barely touch the floor. He grabs a fistful of her blond hair and thrusts into her hard from behind. The woman cries out in ecstasy, her toes curl, and she claws at the table.
“He would be the first to take you,” Spider says. His fingers pluck the chain on my stomach, causing all three clamps to tug on my nipples and clit, creating a wild riot of aching pleasure that rocks me.
I pant, wriggling on the chair.
Striker slaps the girl’s ass, yanks on her hair, grunts in pleasure and hammers her like an animal. The woman screams, and the men around her stroke themselves and egg him on.
“He’s vicious. I’d love to see him fuck you while I fill your mouth with my cock.”
Fear and arousal create a terrifying mixture, quickly followed by a wave of shame. I hate him for those words, but they also make me nearly come. Spider’s barely touching me, and that only makes me greedy for the feel of him inside me.
No. I need so much more than sex. I need him inside my soul. He’s a white hot flame that lives to incinerate, and I want him to burn me to ash.
Striker finishes and claps the woman’s hip with his palm before he walks away, clapping Reaper on the back.
This is unreal. How many men will Dragon make her take? He watches the proceedings from the crowd with a smirk.
Reaper makes his way to the girl and kicks her legs apart. “We’re not nearly done with you yet,” he tells her.
She turns her head as if to see who the voice belongs to.
My heart gives a shocked bound.
“Sam…” I rasp.
“Why so surprised?” Spider asks softly.
Why? Because when I’d sat and talked with the girl who lent me her phone that day at The Devil’s Den, she’d seemed so innocent, so nervous. So… ordinary. If she hadn’t been wearing The Devil’s Den outfit, she’d have fit in wearing the bonnet and shapeless dress of the Colony. And yet, the expression I’d seen on her face had been far from frightened or innocent. Her eyes had been glazed with pleasure.
I swallow yet again, trying to wrap my head around what I’m seeing as Reaper shoves Sam’s cheek down onto the felt of the pool table and rams himself deep into her with a growl.
“Not everyone is as sweet and innocent as you make yourself out to be,” Spider mocks. “Deep down, every woman, no matter how wholesome, has a whore inside her waiting to be let out.” His fingers push a lock of hair behind my ear. “Put any repressed woman from your fucking Colony in with a room full of bikers, and odds are, she’ll be eating someone’s cock within a day.”
The words make my throat tighten. Is that how he sees every woman? As a whore? Is that how he sees me? He’s being deliberately cutting now, I can hear it in his tone, but I can also hear that he believes it. The realization guts me, and yet, my body still cries out for him. Indeed, it seems to be longing for him to bring out the lady of the evening in me.
I want him to corrupt me, to make me more like him.
My jaw clenches at the insult I’m sure I hear in his words.
Spider’s fingers encircle my neck. “It’s okay, Emma,” he croons. “Stop fighting so hard. This is your life now. Accept it. I’ll be happy to teach you how to become the filthy girl I know you are.”
His words choke me, threatening to drag me into a world I’m not ready to accept.
Sam’s screams seem to echo my own struggle to resist Spider’s pull. Would it be so bad to do what he’s telling me, to accept that there’s some twisted part of me that belongs in this world of debauchery and darkness? Yes, it would