REAPER: GOLDEN SKULLS M.C. by Rebecca Joyce (elon musk reading list TXT) 📗

her face and planted my boots on either side of her head, squatting over her, my cock starting to get hard, bulging in my jeans. I reached down and undid the buttons, freeing myself from the tight constraints of the material. As I began to stroke my dick back and forth, I felt her squirm beneath me, her face turned to the side so she could just see my dick in her periphery. I chuckled, slapping her ear with my cock, laughing more at her angry reaction.

“What do you want, slut?”

“Please, sir, I want you to fuck me.”

“Do you now?” I mused as a wry smile played on my face. Lightly I continued to cock-slap her face delighting in degrading and infuriating her further, “And what makes you think you deserve that?”

“I don’t, Sir.”

“You’re right. You don’t.”

I stood up again and slid two fingers slowly into her dripping pussy. A low moan came from her, almost begging me. I stopped once my fingers were all the way in. Spanking her ass hard when she tried to push back on my fingers, frantically trying for some friction, I pulled my fingers out and rammed them down her throat, choking her and forcing her to taste her own arousal.

Grabbing her hair again, I took my fingers from her mouth and slapped her face hard. First with my hand and then, kneeling in front of her, with my cock.

“You don’t deserve my cock, slut. You’ve done nothing to earn it. You’ve been walking around all day open to anyone who was bothered to look. You’ve knelt on my floor for over an hour now, and I’ve not been inspired to fuck you, not once,” I paused to slap her face, hard, again “What kind of useless slut are you? What kind of useless whore doesn’t make me want to fuck them senseless?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” her apology was obscured by the sound of my cock hitting her cheek.

I tightened the hold on her hair as I growled back, “Sorry, isn’t fucking good enough.”

I dropped her head to the floor again and stood up, turning around, so I faced her pink ass, my feet on either side of her face, and began to furiously jerk my cock.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen because you’re such a pathetic excuse for a whore. Because I don’t want to give you the pleasure of my cock pounding into you. I’m going to shoot my hot spunk all over your ass with no help from you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” I said, breathing rapidly, my leg muscles taut.

“Please, sir, I want to suck your cock.”

“Nobody touches my cock, ever!” I roared violently. “If you want something in your mouth slut, you can choke on this.” I wasted no time as I forced my boot into her mouth, making her choke. Her spit coated the leather tip of my riding boot as her tongue licked and worshiped the leather, grateful I would allow her this.

“I want you to thank me for choking you with my boot. I want to hear your gratitude. Thank me for allowing you to suck my boot like the dirty little whore you are.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her response muffled and gargled between my boot and the floor. I forced my foot further into her mouth, stretching her lips. Her saliva spilled out onto the laminate. I removed my boot and bent down, my cock mere inches from her as I gathered her hair in my free hand and rubbed her face into her spit on the floor.

“Clean up this mess. Honestly, you’re so fucking worthless. Look at this floor. Your spit is covering it.” I forced her face into the puddle of drool as I spoke, watching her inhale and splutter into her own drool as my right arm pumped my cock.

However, while I watched her lick her spit off the floor, I closed my eyes for one second as my hand continued to jack my cock. Feeling the euphoria of what was to come. Craving it. It had been too long since I came. I needed that rush, those few moments of bliss. It was then, she licked the head of my cock, and everything in me froze, vanished as if everything I was just feeling was never there.

She touched me, and I lost it.

Before I could stop the rage, I balled up my fist and struck her hard. Blood spewed from her mouth as I hit her again. Not seeing the willing sub on the floor, only to be replaced with the demon who tortured me many years ago. Fury filled my veins fast, consuming me as I fought my way to survive.

I never heard her scream her safe word. All I knew was one minute I was fighting a demon, the next I was on the floor, being held down by four of my brothers.

Hellhound ran into the room to check on the woman, but I didn’t care. What was just play turned into madness.

She touched me.

Nobody fucking touched me and lived.

She knew that.

She signed a fucking contract that explicitly stated that shit in bold fucking letters.

What the fuck!

“Reaper, man, you gotta calm down!” a brother shouted at me.

“Get off me!” I thundered, fighting their hold.

“We will. As soon as you calm down, man.”

“Fuck,” another brother shouted. “He’s frothing at the fucking mouth!”

“He is out of control, Savage. We need Healer to sedate him.”

“No, Healer said that wouldn’t work anymore. Besides, it makes him angrier. No. We wait till Hellhound gets her out of here, and then we run.”

“He’s going to fucking fuck us up big time.”

“At least he didn’t almost kill this one.”

“No, he just fucking rearranged her face!”

“I’ve got her,” Hellhound stated, helping her to her feet. “Just a broken nose, I think. I’ll get Healer to check her out before I send her home.”

“I’m really sorry, Reaper. I shouldn’t have done it,” the woman said, holding a towel to her face.

I didn’t give a shit.

She broke the fucking