Again he ignored her, but his good will was running thin with her incessant questioning about joining something he’d sacrificed so much to build. He slid his fingers from her chin and onto the back of her neck. Fingers rustled below the still damp mop of tangled black hair. He guided her onto both knees.

He held her back as they both watched his cock become engorged. It became so erect, so fast—it bounced up and down between them. She glanced up his torso until locking contact with his eyes. He ran his fingers through the front of her hair and gathered clumps of the short bob until it made a fistful. Her mouth opened at his tug, and she swallowed the entire length of his manhood.

Sucking cock seemed to be more up her alley. Her head moved smoothly as different strokes and tension caused him to quiver before her. She might’ve been on her knees before the king, but he was the one calling out her praises.

His right hand maintained its grip in her hair, while his left hand snaked down toward her breasts. He felt the dried flakes of blood that his bites had drawn earlier. Pierced nipples drove him mad as he pinched and rolled them between his thick fingers. She responded to his rough touch. Her cheeks hollowed around his generous-sized dick. Lips pursed but never released their lock against his shaft.

His tall body craned over until fingers found their way into her vagina. She was saturated. He tugged and pressed against the shaved pussy. Her labia became swollen with a pre-orgasmic rush. His dick pounded as the intensity of her blowjob increased in concert with his massaging of her clit.

He exploded into her mouth and fought to maintain balance as he felt her flood of juices pour onto the floor. He released her hair and pushed against her shoulders to stand up. She refused to stop sucking his dick, and his body responded by convulsing in spasms while his speech became incoherent.

One by one, his senses returned. The room’s frigid condition returned to prick his heat-flushed skin. His hearing resumed, picking up the roar of his favorite hard rock music blaring in the background. He hesitated before bending back over to pull up his jeans. She collapsed onto the floor. He noticed her hint of a faint smile between bouts of labored breathing.

“I don’t even know your name, baby girl.”

Her lips twisted to showcase a contorted contemplation. “Abigail Black,” she whispered.

Chapter 10

Her scraped knuckles drug across tender, cum-filled lips. She batted her blue eyes and forced a smile. His moan and kind smile sickened her, as did knowing she’d just pleasured him, but a sense of satisfaction filled her, knowing she’d just infiltrated the motherfuckers who killed her son Jack.

She scanned the room, trying to see past the shadows. Her ears strained to distinguish between the bass guitar-laden heavy-metal music and murmurs of laughter. Abigail’s vision was restricted to the small sphere of yellowish light cast upon the wooden sawhorse, but she thought there were breaks within the shadows—others watching them.

Abigail flinched and rolled to her side to relieve a searing ache that radiated in her bottom. Justice’s dick hung before her drained of its semen, but still imposing.

That was in my ass?

Though she’d never admit it to Justice, or any of her targets, she was there for one thing. It wasn’t to have sex with the Savage Souls—it was to fuck them—fuck them over.

“Am I in?”

Justice avoided eye contact. “Not yet, Abi.”

She cringed at his use of her name in a familiar way, and noticed his expression morph from satisfied to sinister. He nodded beyond her.

Abigail writhed. The plan had been a good one, she’d thought. The best strategy for infiltrating the Nation—which she now doubted. She scrambled away from Justice until her upper body disappeared into the shadows. Palms and heels slipped on the slick tile coated with her sweat and pussy’s wetness. Primal fear seized her—Justice swept down with one giant effort like an eagle on prey, and slapped a paw around her ankle.

Others appeared at the jagged edges of the light. She screamed in agony as he suspended her body by one hand before she plopped against the unfinished wooden barrier and the cold tile.

“No, please. This ain’t why I’m here.” Her hands waved back and forth across her nakedness to conceal her bruised breasts.

“You want to be a part of our family. This is the adoption, baby sister,” an anonymous voice sneered.

“Welcome to the family,” taunted another one.

“Justice, please. I thought I’d be only yours.” Sheer panic trembled in her voice.

He ran a calloused hand through her tangled hair, “You are, but this family shares everything.” He tightened the grip on her bangs to jerk her head back and forth, “Everything.”

“I can’t handle all of you.”

“I’m out. Not my type.” One of the brothers mocked her pleas.

She focused on him in hopes of making an ally. His cup-shaped face darted from behind a video camera. Deep brooding expression looked as if he was contemplating a tricky arithmetic problem.

“Please help me, Fury,” she called him by the name one of the other brothers had mentioned.

“I will dah’lin. I’ll make sure to get your good side.”

He faded behind the others while holding a pose that looked like he modeled for a portrait. Breaths clutched in her chest as four other bikers closed in. Their bodies varied, but from what she could see against the dim light, their looks favored each other. She focused on each one of their faces—burned the smallest detail to memory for payback later.

Undecided whether to lay back or sit up, the decision was no longer hers. Hands pulled at her arms above the elbows and yanked her in conflicting directions. She screamed with what resolve remained. Her ass and pussy still throbbed from the fucking Justice had laid on her. More hands pried her trembling thighs apart.

Air was knocked from her as she was flipped over and thrown against the sawhorse. Her mind blanked while both arms were stretched in opposite direction until each wrist was strapped to the lower barrier legs. Frissons exploded over her ass as cold air blew directly against it. The cold caused their full-hand slaps to sting with even more intensity.

She bucked against the ropes—nothing.

Then it began.

They can have my body, but I’ll have their souls. This is for you Jack—Momma loves you.

“Justice, where are you? You see this, the least you can do is watch these animals fuck me like you couldn’t.” Abigail went for broke by trying to create a conflict between the blood brothers.

“Baby girl, daddy’s not leaving. I’m going to enjoy watching this.”

She heard the tumble of what sounded like wood pulled across tile.

The first of eight hands touched her—not softly. The donkey punch into her lower rib cage cut her wind. She coughed as phlegm drooled up the back of her tongue and between pressed lips.

“Welcome to your new family, Abigail.” His voice was soft, and much calmer than the others. He appeared before her—his cock stood higher than parallel. Her eyes fixed on the size of this biker’s dick. She glanced up. His name patch read Mercy.

Her head shook with indecision, and body tingled. Fear and anticipation flooded her with the excitement of being dominated by these bastards. Both feet stopped kicking as the pulsating from deep within her pussy sent shivers radiating outward. Their moans and grunts filled her ears with a primal chant. Four pairs of hands began to roam across every inch of her body. They touched places she’d not explored in years.

Mercy’s fingers cupped the back of her head. “Open,” he commanded.

Abigail closed her eyes while he slowly eased his long shaft between her already raw lips. The bulb of his cock quickly pressed against her uvula. Her throat constricted and jaws clenched. She gagged, but his grip never loosened. Water formed in her eyes. She inhaled through her nose—his full cock blocking any chance of air inhaled. Knees bent as she concentrated on the rhythm of his mouth fuck. Her tongue rolled and wrapped around his cock like a snow cone on a hot Las Vegas afternoon.