“Then turn ’em loose on me—I got nothing to lose.” She rocked her round bottom against the finger fucking he’d intensified.
Justice pulled his fingers from her pussy as he felt it become spongy and engorged with blood. He shoved them into her mouth and she clamped down with lips pressed tight. Blood continued to draw from her left nipple—it excited him. His dick surged against the zipper of his tight denims. His tongue flicked across the red liquid trail and jabbed it into her mouth. She sucked and bit at anything he put between her lips.
“Baby girl, you’re driving me wild.”
“Release me, I want in.”
“Not until I’m done with you.”
Justice’s breathing rose deep and fell heavy in his chest. Warriors, who’ve lived on an adrenaline edge, work themselves into a zone. Sex fell in that zone. A slight sheen of sweat covered his body and the open hand he snapped around her reedy throat slipped before he secured it with a tighter grip. She gasped. He only shook her head by the neck.
His right hand released the metal pin. Her arms fell limp. They would be numb from the hanging, Justice knew. He supported her torso with the firm hold around her throat—her throbbing pussy straddled the wooden sawhorse.
“Fuck me, daddy,” she demanded. Her wet blue eyes glinted over her shoulder. She whipped her head around to throw the hair out of her face. He saw her grin.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to.”
Justice drove her upper body against the sawhorse. Being bent over exposed how perfectly shaped her ass was. Marks from her earlier beating still glowed red, with new hints of purple.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
He pressed close to her ass. His unleashed solid dick bridged the space of more than ample inches. More fingers pushed inside of her—both quickly covered in her wetness. He spread her voluptuous cheeks apart with one hand and slipped one and then the other finger into her ass.
She clenched her rectum as she lurched forward into the wooden barrier. “Fuck, go slow. I’ve never done anal,” she pleaded.
“You’re about to do a lot of shit you ain’t ever done. No such animal as going slow.” Justice filled her asshole with the full length and girth of his two fingers. For a man six feet and six inches tall, his entire body was in proportion—double extra large.
Her body bucked against the sawhorse, but 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 contemplate suicide on many occasions. He understood it was the ultimate expression of self-hatred, but he really didn’t give a shit.
Guilt and life-taking skills fueled by wrath also translated into causing others deviant discomforts. Abigail had become his latest victim of decadence.
“You’re hurting me.” She sniveled.
Reality snapped him back. He found his right hand gripped around her throat and he’d pulled so hard that her slim back had been arched like a drawn back bow without the arrow. She coughed. Spittle sprayed from between her lips. The mirror in front of her showed panic had replaced her pleasure. He leaned up off of her body to see the bright red handprints covering her ass and hips.
His cock ached because of the fierce ass banging he’d subjected her too. He eased the pace. He could be a monster at times, thanks to the hell his father had subjected him to. He’d grown up as one of seven brothers in a deeply religious household, but physical and psychological torture were part of their upbringing.