Her naked body dangled from the shackles, but she’d seemed to grow accustomed to the bite of the metallic rings into her wrists. Small breasts looked even more so with both arms forced above her head. Solid erect nipples rose prominently. Matching stainless steel bars with balls were set in each pierced nipple. The cold temperature made them more firm. Justice thought he saw humidity collected across the bars.
Flawless skin without a single tattoo began to shimmer with a slight coat of moisture. Justice grinned at the chill bumps that covered her body and knew it’d be extra sensitive to the touch of his hand or his belt. Which one, depended on her attitude—so far it had been shitty.
Always on high alert, the last few days had his suspicions on hyper-drive. Fucking with the Las Vegas chapter and the rip off of a quarter million bucks had him on a razor’s edge. And now, during the Savage Nation’s sacred night of church, this bitch tries sneaking in. The faraway look in his eyes distorted his heart-shaped face. Usually composed, stress affected him.
“Say something or let me go. I’m tired of your fucking game of hide and seek.”
Justice inhaled until his massive lungs filled with cold, damp air. Scared knuckles across his wide right fist blanched white. His fingers gripped the heavy metal and copper belt buckle and jerked until the thick leather belt zipped out from around his waist.
At the sound, her eyes squinted across the soft glow to scan the darkness.
The belt hummed as it ripped through the air with a mighty draw to the rear. It snapped with the crack of a bullwhip as he twisted his hips to change its direction. The thrumming sound of leather slicing through air grew louder as the thick slab of cowhide raced from the shadows and picked up speed in the light.
She cried out as it ripped open skin between her left hip and rib cage. A light spray of water flung from beneath the belt tip. Her torso cringed. She heaved her left leg up close to her chest. The response to pain was temporary as her strength to hold the leg up faded fast. Blood seeped through the tear, but pooled quickly before reaching her thigh.
Justice exhaled while he leaned forward with the follow through. Righting himself, he listened—there was no cry. He returned to the shadows and watched.
“That all you got, big bad boy?”
“Why are you here?”
“Oh, he speaks.”
Justice slashed the leather belt back again and raked a wide red streak across her ass. This time she winched. His erection sprung at that sound.
Mouth dry from the anticipation of striking her again, he swallowed hard. “I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?” He held the belt coiled by his side.
“I’m selling Girl Scout cookies. Wanna eat some?”
“Usually this would be fun. Nothing beats a visit from a good house mouse, but I’m in no mood for bullshit. Last time I’ll ask.” A rapid heartbeat signaled sexual desires raging against his intuition that she was no more than a set up.
Like a lightning crack across a turbulent dusk sky, his belt strapped her back across the spine. The strike against a less meaty portion of her body caused a much more immediate response. Her back arched. Her nipples hardened. He whipped her again with equal force. This time, her chin fell to her chest. Cut short, jet-black trusses tousled forward.
“Baby, tell daddy why you here,” Justice changed his tone to soothe her.
Her head lifted—she pressed her lips back against her teeth to force a wretched smiled.
“I got nothing. Nobody left in my life. I want to be part of a family who gives a fuck about each other. Everybody knows the Savages are family.” Her voice lost the adversarial edge. She almost sounded sweet.
Justice’s legs loosened as he looped the belt around his waist. The tip was still hot from impact, but it was no longer needed. He knew the tactic for breaking a person. She’d responded quicker than some, but she had responded.
Savoring the sweet moment of creating that separation between what a human wants to do, and actually does is intoxicating. The skill required the understanding of two things—knowing how to keep your target alive long enough to gain their compliance and knowing that it wasn’t the fear of pain that broke someone—it was the hope of the pain stopping.
“You want me to be your daddy, little girl?”
“Only if you don’t mind fucking your daughter.”
“Honey, you’re someone’s daughter but you ain’t mine. You belong to anyone?”
“I’ve got no one. Everyone is dead. I need you to care for me—I’ll do anything.”
“Anything? You got any idea what the Savages will do to you?”
“I don’t give a shit. Take my body, I only want my soul.” She spread her thighs as an offering. Justice stopped the battle to contain his erection.
“Who sent you? A piece of ass like you doesn’t just show up at the clubhouse every day. You got no needle tracks, burned fingertips from smoking crack, scars or tattoos—you gotta be a narc.” He pulled the hair back to show his solid-looking granite features. He looked like he was carved from stone, and he knew it.
“I’m just alone, that’s all,” she sighed. He watched her micro-expressions—the ones she couldn’t control. They signaled the truth.
Justice’s furnace was always set on high-boil, except at this moment. He struggled to block the thoughts of the Middle East and the thousands of interrogations he’d managed. They almost always involved violence or death. The hanging nude technique was always one of his favorites. His decadent sexual desires conflicted with the grotesque images of tortured terrorist that flashed through his mind.
His groin pulsed, not at the memory of inflicting harm, but for fucking her. He stepped into the soft glow and the guttural moan that bellowed deep in his esophagus signaled he was closer to her.
She must’ve noticed his movement. Her body flinched although there was no threat—yes, she’d been broken.
Chapter 9
Justice towered before her.
The soft radiance highlighted his size and features. A naturally dominant presence, he rarely had to announce his command—it was powerfully sensed. His façade of always composed concealed his demons. He didn’t speak while he glared into her face. He only concentrated on why she’d been sent into the Savage Nation’s clubhouse, and how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Well?” she said with a hint of challenge.
Justice’s right hand rocketed from his side to strike her mouth with a smack. “You’ve not learned a damn thing have you? I run this family, and you will never, ever challenge me. Not in public or in private.”
She spit the speckles of gummy fluid that seeped from her top lip and onto her teeth. “I’m sorry daddy, but I am part of the family is what you’re saying?”
“Not yet,” he said. “We jump in and we jump out—some survive neither.”
“Bring it, daddy.”
Forefinger and thumb sandpapered his chin. His gut told him to toss her, but his dick had almost drained enough blood from his brain for making rational decisions. He plunged his palm over her right breast and squeezed her nipple until it turned deep purple. She moaned as her teeth seethed cold air against the pain. His mouth followed as his tongue alternated between pierced nipples. He pressed hard against them with bites and sucking. He drew blood from the left one—she screamed out for him to stop.
“That’s what I thought. You ain’t gonna survive this, baby girl.”
Panting partly from the agony of being strung up so long and the fatigue of endless hours that led up to this encounter, she’d become sensitive to touch—especially blood-drawing bites.
“Keep me for yourself then.”
“Tempting, but you’ve done nothing to deserve that privilege,” he said as his meaty fingers jostled her pussy’s wet lips.