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Stalk Her Page 8
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“So no more waiting, Poppy. I’m going to claim that sweet ass and pussy of yours, and they’ll be mine forever.” He growled out the words and a shiver wracked my entire body.
His arms were huge, rippling with muscles, his tattoos so masculine, so frightening and attractive in their appearance.
And his abdomen, God, it was ripped and defined. I lowered my gaze to the cock between his thighs. It was long and thick, with veins running along the length, and the head slightly wider than the shaft. And the slit at the tip was already dotted with pre-cum.
“You like looking at me, Poppy girl?”
I didn’t even hesitate. I snapped my gaze to his face and nodded.
“You want me to finish getting undressed, baby?”
Again, I nodded.
Butcher went to work on getting his boots and jeans off, and when he stood in front of me naked, I reached down and grabbed his dick, a small moan escaping me.
“Take that shirt off. Let me see all of you.”
My hands shook as I took my shirt off then reached behind and undid the clasp of my bra. When I was just as naked as he was, the chilled air gave me goose bumps, my arousal making me feel ultrasensitive.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “So fucking perfect.” His gaze was moving up and down my body, stopping for long moments on my breasts then my pussy. “Tell me you want this.” His words were harsh, a demand.
I swallowed, my throat hurting, my mouth dry. “I want this.”
He grunted in approval. “No going back.”
I shook my head although he didn’t ask a question.
“Turn around and let me see that ass,” Butcher ordered.
He sounded, looked so harsh in just the next moment, as if something had switched in him, his passion a whole other entity, a beast.
I turned around, placed my hands on the wall, the coldness of it almost startling.
“Spread your legs and pop that ass out.”
I obeyed instantly, as if I were on autopilot.
Butcher was behind me in the next second, his hands on my waist almost gently, but then I felt him dig his hands into my skin painfully… erotically.
“Look at this ass,” he said, but it was uttered low, so softly that it was as if he spoke to himself. And before I could even inhale, could process any of this, the sting of his palm connecting with my ass had my eyes widening and a gasp leaving me. My back arched involuntarily, further popping my ass out.
Tears filled my eyes, but as that pain started to fade and warmth took its place, I felt a tingling pleasure fill me. He brought his hand down on my ass again, not as hard as the first time, but still with enough force it had a sound leaving me.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “So fucking good.”
My flesh felt scorching hot, the blood rushing to the surface. He spanked me over and over again, never letting up, causing me to be uncomfortably wet.
I wanted more, needed more.
I bit my bottom lip hard enough I tasted the coppery flavor of blood, but that pain led to ecstasy.
Butcher panted behind me, and I rested my forehead on the wall. I wondered how much he was controlling himself. I wondered if I could break that hardcore resistance he had.
“I need you, Butcher.” I looked over my shoulder and saw he had his focus on my ass. “I want you to be my first.”
He snapped his gaze up at me, this low growl leaving him. “Oh, I’m going to pop that cherry and claim it as mine.” He took a step forward then. “I’m going to make your pussy stretched so it fits perfectly for my cock.”
I panted, my body so overheated I started to feel beads of sweat coat my skin.
“Yes.” I breathed out that lone word.
“I fucking love hearing you agree.” He was right behind me now, his mouth by my ear, his chest to my back. “You want my cock stretching that virgin cunt real good?”
I couldn’t find my voice, so I nodded.
I bit my lip even harder, the pain a little reprieve from the intense pleasure moving through me.
“God, tell me, baby. Actually say the words.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Tell me,” Butcher ordered and moved his hands along my body.
I closed my eyes, swallowed, and tried to get through this without passing out. “I want your hands on me. I—I want you inside me.”
He groaned deeply. “Fuck, I could come just hearing those words, baby girl.” Butcher turned me around before I could catch my breath, his hands on my chest, his fingers pulling at my nipples. I was about to come right then and there.
He had his mouth on my nipple a second later, running his tongue around my areolas, moving back and forth between both breasts.
“Poppy,” he groaned against my flesh. “You going to let me do what I want, baby?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I said softly.
“That’s fucking right you will.” He slid his hand down my belly and between my thighs, cupping my pussy with so much pressure I reached out to grip his shoulders and steady myself. I couldn’t breathe and I felt lightheaded, like I might pass out.
“Spread wider for me.” His mouth was by my throat, his breath warm and humid. I did what he said and felt him slip his fingers through my folds, rubbing up and down, making me even wetter. “You’re so ready for me.”
One of his fingers found its way to my pussy opening, teasing the hole with one thick, long digit. He pulled back to look at my face at the same time he pushed that finger inside.
“I want to be buried deep in here, Poppy. So fucking deep.”
My breathing increased as he started fucking me with that digit, slow and easy, driving me higher to an orgasm.
“Beg me for my cock.” He pulled back and looked me in the eyes, leaving me grasping for sanity, sucking in air. His mouth was on me once more, his hand sliding down the length of my spine.
He made a strangled noise, the heat of his body leaving me begging, clutching at him, hoping for more.
He turned me around then and pressed my chest to the wall, the coldness chilling my overheated body. His chest was against my back a second later, and he pushed the hair off my neck, kissing the skin that was exposed. His hand squeezed one cheek of my ass, and I popped my bottom out, grinding it against him.
“You have no idea how hot it is seeing you spread like this, ready for me, so fucking soaked I can’t even think straight.”
With his hands on my hips now, he pulled my lower half out and I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. But he didn’t push into me.
“You ready for me to fuck this virginity right out of you?” He spun me around and I cried out. “Are you, Poppy? Are you ready, baby girl?”
I licked my lips and nodded.
And then I was flat on my back in the middle of the bed, staring up at Butcher, seeing the primal desire on his face.
“Come here, Butcher,” I whispered, and he was on me in the next second, spreading my legs with his body, his cockhead right at my opening once more.
“Mine,” he said almost to himself, and then he started to push in. He did this several times, shallowly thrusting into me, breaking my hymen as easily as he was claiming me as his right now.
A low pleasure-filled moan mixed with my pained gasp. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling that thickness stretching me, opening me up.
He started to slide into my body. There was resistance as he pushed through the tight virginal muscle, and then he was fully in me, his balls pressed right to my bottom. He didn’t wait to give me time to adjust to his massive size. No, Butcher just started pulling out and pushing back in, over and over again. Everything around me faded, the world leaving me, the past and future vanishing.
There was only here and now.
“Christ.”
The way he moved in and out of me demolished my sanity.
And when I moaned, he started fucking me harder and faster, making me take all his dick until I felt my eyes water and my orgasm crash through me.
“Give it to me. Yes.” He hissed out that one word.
He was crazed in his movements, pounding into my body like he owned it.
He does own it. He does own me.
He snaked his hand behind my back and grabbed my hair, gently tugging at the strands, tipping my head back.
The look on his face was feral as he pumped into me, filled me up. His gaze was heavy-lidded as he looked down between our bodies, right where he was buried in me. He watched as his cock disappeared into me. Sweat glistened on his body, and I wanted to lick it all off, to see how salty it was. He lifted his gaze to my face and started really pounding into me, his mouth open as he silently showed me his pleasure.
“I’m coming, Poppy girl. I’m fucking coming.”
The roar of completion that filled the room sounded like a feral animal. He tightened his hand in my hair and I opened my mouth, a silent moan leaving me.
“Christ.” That word spilled from him in a rush. He braced himself on his hands on either side of my head and stayed there, buried in me and breathing hard. “You’re mine, Poppy.” The way he said that, so low, so deep—so completely possessive—I knew it was the absolute truth.
He pulled out of me and we both made a disappointed sound.
For several long moments, we didn’t say anything. Hell, I couldn’t say anything after what I’d just felt and experienced.
My virginity was gone, given to Butcher, because he’d been the one to steal my heart. Our breathing was identical, fast and labored, the aftereffects of what we’d shared and done filling the room and consuming every single inch of me.
I glanced over at him, watching as he lay on his back, his arm slung over his eyes, his stomach hollowing in and out, his muscles contracting and relaxing. I didn’t stop myself from enjoying the view, knowing I was the reason he was so spent. Sweat coated his chest, and as I let my gaze travel down his body, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of his cock, I felt that fire inside me reignite. He was still hard, thick and long, his cock resting on his belly. The length was monstrous, reaching to his navel, his girth intimidating.
That had been inside me.
His shaft was glossy from my pussy, and I didn’t miss the streak of blood covering his dick from when he broke through my hymen.
God, why did that turn me on so much?
“You keep looking at me like that and I’m liable to fuck you again, baby.” He looked over at me and cracked an eye open, grinning, the flash of his straight white teeth coming through the dimness of the room.
My heart skipped a beat at those words and that smile. “I mean, I’m not saying not to.” I squealed when he rolled me onto my back and spread my legs with his body. The feel of his hard cock nestled right against my pussy had that squeal turning into a moan.
“God, I love you,” he said against my throat.
I gasped at the feel of his stubble moving along my neck. He pulled back and looked at me, and I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. “I love you, too.”
And I did. I really did.
Chapter Fifteen
Butcher
The scent of blood was so strong it felt like it coated you, like you’d just bathed in the red shit.
I stood off to the side, trying to catch my breath, sweat covering my forehead as I stared at a half-dead Henry. My knuckles were bloody and battered, my arms aching from the hits upon hits I’d delivered to the prick.
Shyne had found the motherfucker in no time at all. The bastard hadn’t even been trying to hide, probably because he didn’t know what he was up against. But it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. We would have found him no matter where he’d been.
“Smoke?” Boss asked and walked up to me to hand me a half-finished cigarette.
I shook my head as I stared at Henry. He was groaning softly, barely hanging on. But I wasn’t finished just yet. I wasn’t done delivering the pain this fucker deserved.
Oh, I’d done a beating on Henry all right, done a fucking number on his pathetic ass. I’d been working on him for the past half hour, slowly chipping away at the arrogance, his pseudo-power, until he was nothing more than the bag of meat sitting before me.
The fucker, who looked nearly dead, had his arms tied behind him, his feet secured to two legs of the chair.
The bastard looked about ready to pass out, so I tipped my chin in Shyne’s direction and watched as the man went and got some smelling salt. I wanted him awake for the rest of this shit.
When Henry sputtered back to full consciousness, I grinned and stepped closer to him, now standing a few feet from where he sat, staring down at him as he looked up at me. His face was a mess, broken nose, swollen and split lips, a tooth missing. Hell, he looked like the fresh meat the butcher had in the display case on Sunday mornings.
I reached behind me and pulled the hunting knife out of my back pocket, letting the light catch the shiny metal, grinning as he widened his eyes.
“F—F—” Henry sputtered, his lips so busted to hell he could barely speak.
I leaned in close so we could look right in each other’s eyes, although both of his were nearly swollen shut. “What was that, Henry boy?”
“F—Fuck. You.”
I ginned wider and straightened, looking at the other men in the room, and started laughing. They followed suit. “This asshole has some balls on him. That’s for fucking sure.”
Renner came up to me with a bottle of vodka. This wasn’t for drinking though. I poured that alcohol over Henry, hearing him scream as the liquor covered his open wounds, hurting like a bitch.
I wanted this to last all fucking night, if I was being honest. But I knew this had to come to an end. I wanted to end this. I wanted to go back to Poppy.
I wanted to love her and finally tell her she never had to worry again.
And so I leaned in real fucking close, so the asshole could see the calm before the storm. “This is for her mom.” I plunged the blade into his side. He grunted in pain. “This is for all the shit you put Poppy through.” I pulled the blade out and stabbed him in the other side. He started coughing up blood, splatters of the red, viscous fluid covering my neck and white T-shirt. “And this, you motherfucker… this is for the girl I love.” I stood and brought that blade right across his throat, slicing it open, watching as he struggled, trying to get away, trying to gasp for breath.
Henry widened his eyes as much as he could, given how swollen they were, and as he stared at me, pleading without being able to say anything, all I did was stand there and watch him die.
And when it was done, we all stood there in silence, no one moving or breathing. The silence that filled the room was deafening, but there was also this release that seemed to fill me, to know what I’d done was for the best. This wasn’t the first time I’d killed a man. This wouldn’t be the last time either. But this moment felt different. Taking this life meant more than just vengeance or anything like that.
I did this out of love.
“Let’s get this fucker out of here. Have the prospect come out here and clean up the blood and piss. Have them get rid of the rest of the shit too.” Although this was private property and we had the cops in our pocket, I sure as fuck didn’t want or need incriminating evidence just lying around. Weapons used, the rope and damn chair Henry was currently using. Yeah, all that shit had to be destroyed.
“You got it,” Shyne said and pulled out his phone to make the call.
I stared at Henry’s lifeless form strapped to the chair, the overhead light flickering because it was on its last leg, just like this fucker had been seconds before. I untied the ropes that bound his arms and legs, took a step back as he slumped to the blood-splattered concrete floor, and felt pride at the knowledge the prick was finally gone, that I could go back and tell Poppy she didn’t ever have to worry again.
Shyne and Boss grabbed one of Henry’s arms each and dragged him out of the warehouse, tossing the body in the back of the van. And then we all climbed in, everyone silent as Shyne dr
ove us to a strip of property owned by the city, acreage that was a wilderness preserve.
Property that would never be touched.
And one hell of a place to hide a dead body.
Boss tried to get the fucker out of the back first, but I placed a hand on the patch’s shoulder, stopping him. “I got this, brother. Let me take his ass to the hole.”
Shyne was already digging the hole with Renner, both men working fast and quietly as they got the unmarked grave ready.
I pulled Henry’s body out from the back of the van then dragged him with one arm over the rock and debris-covered ground. The scent of his blood coating the air was still strong.
“We’ll need to have the prospects clean the fuck out of the van and get the scent of blood, piss, and shit out of there,” Shyne said as he leaned against a tree and lit up a cigarette.
I let go of Henry’s arm and leaned against a tree myself, watching the men work, their low grunts of hard work surrounding us.
And then it was done, the hole dug, and all of them standing there waiting for me to make the next move.
I turned and looked down at Henry, the grisly display of his battered and bloody face visible through the break in the tree line where the moon filtered down. “Fuck you, you motherfucker,” I said and walked around so I could use my boot to push his body into the hole. He landed face-first in the dirt, and before I had to tell the guys, they were filling up the hole.
Fifteen minutes later, we all stood around the freshly filled-in hole, the unmarked grave where this piece of shit motherfucker would rot for the rest of existence.
And as I smoked my joint, as I took a swig from the bottle of whiskey being passed around by my brothers-in-arms, all I felt was relief that I had done this for my girl, that from this point on, she’d never have to feel scared or upset or hurt.
“Come on, boys.” I took one last hit before handing the roach off to Shyne. “Let’s get back to the clubhouse and forget about the messy side of this life.” I looked at each member, knowing they’d always have my back, that we’d give our lives for each other if need be. “Let’s drink, let off steam, and relish in the fact that we survived another day.”