Reaper's Property (Reapers MC, #1)(36)



Gary had taken that pretty girl in the picture home, pulled off her dress and f*cked her.

Should’ve killed the man when he had the chance.

Horse glanced over at Marie, who was still digging through the closet. Her thong teased him and he realized that she’d probably bought the damned thing for Gary—and she still had the picture of them together. The wave of jealousy turned tsunami, and Horse had a sudden vision of her meeting up with Gary, of him trying to change her mind about leaving. Women got back together with losers all the time.

“You wear that shit for him?” he asked, holding up the wedding picture. She looked blank.

“That butt floss,” he snapped. “Why the f*ck are you wearing a thong to work at a daycare? Are you seeing him again?”

“No!” she said, eyes wide. “I haven’t seen him since that last time, you should know that. He hasn’t called me, nothing. When I get all the papers ready, Denise’s husband said he’d serve them for me.”

Horse grunted, trying not to lose it. Of course she hadn’t seen him again, the man beat the shit out of her. Marie wasn’t stupid. And what about the * who’s kidnapping her? Horse wondered. What does she think of me? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the thong again—once they got home, he’d take her to Victoria’s Secret, get her all new shit. None of Gary’s sloppy seconds in his house.

“You keeping this?” he asked, looking at the picture.

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t want to forget, at least not yet.”

He dropped the picture, disgusted, watching as she moved to her dresser. Every time she reached up, he caught flashes of her tiny little waist, swelling down into hips built to cradle his. Her figure was the ideal combination of small and curvy, every part adding up to perfection.

Horse wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He needed a taste, just a taste. Now. He got up and stood behind her, taking her hips and pulling them back into his. Horse rubbed his cock against her butt, so aroused it caused him physical pain. He leaned into her, smelling her hair. Impossibly, his dick got harder.

This woman was going to kill him.

“I love how your hair smells,” he muttered. He wondered what it would feel like trailing across his chest or wrapped around his cock. Better put that one on the list too.

Marie tensed.

“I have ten minutes left,” she said, her voice full of strain. “Please.”

That pissed him off, spinning him out of control. How much more of this did he have to take? She belonged to him now, he’d paid fifty f*cking thousand dollars for her. Hell, he’d even gone to the mat to save her worthless brother from the club. He’d offered her everything he had and she’d thrown it back in his face.

Horse let go of her hip, reaching up to grab that hair and twisting her head around to the side. He covered it with his mouth, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to thrust his cock down into her cunt—hard and fast, without mercy. She moaned, collapsing against him, and he slid his other hand down her stomach to her pants, ripping them open. Then his fingers plunged into her *. He pulled back, wanting to see her face, watching as her breath came faster and she flushed with desire and need. The sight gave him savage satisfaction.

Marie was his property now.

“This *,” Horse said, fingering her roughly. “This * is mine. You are mine. I’ll f*ck you when and where I want, and you can either take it or get the f*ck out. Are we clear?”

”Yes,” Marie whispered, shivering as her eyes dilated. He felt how close she was to release, the flesh between her legs tightening. He took her mouth one more time, punishing her with his tongue and his fingers, dancing right on the edge. She thrust her hips at him and he ended the kiss, dropping his lips to her neck, licking and sucking, wanting to mark her for everyone to see.

He bit her and she moaned. Loud.

Gloating, Horse pulled his hand out of her pants and stepped back. His cock was like a pillar of granite and his heart beat so hard he could feel it pounding in his forehead, but he’d sent her a message about who was in charge. He lifted his fingers, slowly licking off her sweet juices.

“Don’t care how good you taste, you don’t call the shots,” he whispered. “We clear?”

She nodded, flushed and needy, still quivering.

“Your rules,” she whispered back. “Or I leave. And what happens if I do?”

He forced his features to stay smooth.

“To you? Nothing,” he said, but he knew better. If she left him, he’d hunt her down and drag her back home by the hair if he had to. “You’re with me of your own free will. But the club has to be paid in blood, Marie, not even I control that. Don’t forget.”

”Okay.”

He pushed her gently out of the way as he reached into the lingerie drawer, pulling out panties, bras and a teddy. He thought about Gary’s hands on her, stripping these scraps of lace off her perfect body, and wanted to rip them apart with his bare hands. Instead he tossed them on the floor.

“You won’t need these.”

He saw something tucked in the back, black fabric with Reaper colors. What the hell? He reached in, grabbing it. It was his t-shirt, he realized, with something wrapped inside it. She’d kept it. He pulled the bundle out and turned to Marie.

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