Marek (Knights Corruption MC #1) (4 page)

Once he was fully sheathed, he rutted inside me, enjoying that he was fucking an unwilling participant. “Do you like that?” he panted. The only response I could muster was the frantic shaking of my head, tears soaking my cheeks and falling to the desk below.

If I remained still and let him get off then it would all be over with and I could return to my room. Hopefully, Vex would take pity on me and not beat me for allowing this man to rape me.

Yanez slowed his intrusion and without warning, fell from my body. I thought he was done so I tried to stand up, but he shoved me back down, pressing the side of my face against the hard surface.

“Not yet,” he growled. “Gonna take that sweet ass.” Before his words registered, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back until a cry tore from my lips. My anguish seduced him. He snatched my strands tighter, pain slicing through my poor head as he made me stand. “You know you want it,” he threatened, pulling me so close my back hit his chest, his smoky breath making me sick.

“Put your hands on the desk.” For a brief moment, there was no contact. He’d backed away, the chill of the room prickling my skin. But his absence was short-lived. Anchoring me to him, I heard him spit into his hand before he pressed himself against my tight, puckered hole. Instinct told me to struggle, but all that got me was an immobilizing grip to the neck, the sneer of his voice in my ear threatening to kill me if I resisted again.

Vex had repeatedly sodomized me, and for as many times as he forced himself there, it never felt any better. I braced myself, my paranoia pinning me in place. I tried desperately to mentally float off to a happier time, but I didn’t have one. Yanez tangled his fingers in my hair once again, the pain of his grip shooting right through me.

“You’re gonna love this,” he rasped. Spreading my cheeks, he forced himself inside me, the unbearable pain causing my body to seize up. I stopped breathing, all while my heart slammed against my chest. Once he started to move, he ordered me to link my hands behind my back, releasing my hair to hold me in place by my wrists instead.

Fear and mortification flooded over me. Not only was this humiliating and degrading, the pain was indescribable.

My mind raced all over the place, pinging back and forth between the hell I was in and the hell I was going to find myself in once I returned to my room.

My wrists screamed under the weight of his pressure. I tried to wriggle them free, praying he was too distracted to notice. But he did. Instead of him yelling or gripping my hands tighter, he slammed his fist into the back of my head. Dots instantly invaded my vision, a searing pain slicing through my skull so fierce I almost passed out. Unfortunately for me, he hadn’t hit me hard enough to knock me unconscious. At least then, I would have been saved from hearing him grunt out his release inside me.

When he finally finished, he withdrew from my body, zipped up his pants and disappeared from the room without a word.

I barely managed to clothe myself before I saw Vex striding straight toward me, the heat of rage dancing behind his eyes.

Realizing that bracing for his attack would only serve to piss him off even more, I stood there and waited for his punishment. He snatched my upper arm and dragged me from my father’s office.

“You wait till I get you alone. You’ll wish he’d killed you.”

It was the last thing I remembered before darkness found me.

Marek

Picturing Koritz’s ugly face while I pummeled him to within an inch of his life made me smile. The thought of exacting my revenge made the cleanup somewhat bearable.

His men had trashed our clubhouse, and while some of the old ladies helped with the mess, they weren’t allowed in the area where we met to talk private business. It was sacred, the one place we went to get away from it all, a separate suite inside the clubhouse.

Some clubs called it Church, but we called it Chambers. Mainly because it was where we talked about, then eventually delivered, justice.

The main room consisted of our meeting table and chairs, memorabilia plastered around the room for nostalgia. Off to the right was a bathroom linked to another room where the men chose to hide out if they were having issues with their women, or if they needed time to sort shit out that was rattling around inside their head. Since no one but the members were allowed in Chambers, they were safe for as long as it took for them to calm down enough to go back to their rooms, or any of the common areas.

“They sure made a mess, didn’t they?” Stone grumbled, picking up pieces of broken glass from some of the dishes they tossed from the cupboards.
Really? What in the hell did they think we were hiding in there?
Assholes.

Stone and I had grown up together, and since the time we were young boys we knew someday we were going to run the KC. It was ingrained in us, our fathers pulling us into meetings early on to make sure we knew all the ins and outs of the club.

The politics.

The minute everyday details, from who was in our pockets to the best trade routes to what the dirt was on our biggest rival.

The fucking Savage Reapers.

Our clubs hated each other with a vengeance.

Their club was run with no rules, morals or consequences. They were heavily involved in human trafficking, selling women and children to the sickest, highest bidders. They beat and raped their own women, not a care in the world for another’s life as long as they got what they wanted.

For all means and purposes, they certainly lived up to their name.

Savages.

And while we were no angels, exacting revenge when we felt it necessary, we at least lived by some sort of principle.

We didn’t beat and rape our women, and we didn’t kill innocent people. We ran drugs for the livelihood of the club, but they were forbidden to use. The strongest substances allowed at the compound were weed and alcohol. And although there had been many a time where some of the brothers went overboard and drank until they fell unconscious, they were easily controlled by the rest of us. All except for Ryder. When the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms and head mechanic drank the hard shit, he was a mean motherfucker. Thank God he only partook when shit got bad, and since I’d taken over three years ago, I was able to control the shit that went down enough to ensure he’d only gotten out of pocket twice. Both times resulting in three of the brothers beating him into submission, locking him in his room until he finally calmed down.

Every man had his own room at the club, but they owned their own property away from the compound as well. I didn’t require my men to stay together at all times, it mostly just worked out that way. Which was why most of them had problems in their relationships. But the women knew the life they were choosing when they shacked up with the guys, the men’s first priority being the club above all else. Don’t get me wrong, they loved their women and would kill to protect them and their families, but there was nothing like the brotherhood the club provided.

“Hey, Marek,” Stone yelled across the room. “How about once we get shit right, we throw a ruckus?” That was code for an all-nighter, an ‘anything goes’ type of get-together
.
It also meant no wives or girlfriends allowed, only familiar party favors, aka club whores.

“Sure thing,” I promised. “Get ahold of Zip and Hawke and tell them to make a liquor run. We’re running low,” I said, flipping the couch right-side up, cursing those DEA assholes with every flick of my eyes around the shambled room. “Then tell Ryder and Jagger to make their usual calls.”

A ruckus was precisely what I needed right about then.

The clubhouse was a flurry of activity. Men chugging their favorite poison while barely clad women draped themselves around the member of their choice. Loud music and a cloud of smoke hung thick in the air while some snuck off to the back rooms for a quick fuck. It was exactly the kind of distraction I needed, and I welcomed it with open arms. I allowed my men to engage in a carefree night because, come tomorrow, we had to plan our revenge—on not only Koritz, but our biggest enemy.

The feud between the Knights Corruption and the Savage Reapers dated back to when I was a kid. But the real war began three years ago, and I was gonna be the president who finally put an end to those bastards, tearing them apart one by one. The reason for the battle was rooted in greed, mainly on the part of the Reapers, although my club wasn’t innocent. We hadn’t taken it to the extremes, however, killing off rival members solely for the purpose of getting rich.

No, they’d crossed the line.

Time and time again.

Swallowing the rest of my drink, I tapped the bar and signaled for Trigger to pour me another. “You sure you want to get shit-faced while there’s plenty of pussy round here?” he teased, jerking his chin toward one of the wannabes walking straight for us. We referred to them as wannabes, amongst other things, because their ultimate agenda was to become someone’s old lady. But the thing they didn’t realize was there was no way a patched member was gonna make an honest woman out of someone who’d slept with half the club. The prospects, however, didn’t know any better, until, of course, we explained the way things worked around here.

“Hi, Marek,” Shelley cooed, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear how she wanted to suck my dick until I shot my load down the back of her throat. She was attractive enough, her shoulder-length blonde hair cut into the latest trend, and a body made for a good time. Her tiny shirt showcased her perky tits and, although she wore a mini skirt, she was practically naked.

The attribute I liked most about Shelley was that, while I knew she wanted to be tied to me in the worst way, she didn’t push too hard. Knowing damn well I’d replace her with someone who was only going to give me what I wanted. Sex. Nothing more.

I tended to stick with one piece of ass at a time, having no tolerance in my world for jealous bitches who could turn a good ruckus into an all-out brawl. Once I had my fill, I released them to have sex with whomever they wanted, never to be touched by me again.

Downing the shot Trigger placed in front of me, the slow burn of the liquor clouded my thoughts, quieting all the shit rattling around inside my head. After another two shots, I rose from my seat, grabbed Shelley’s hand and dragged her back to my room, the sound of her satisfied laughter following me down the long, darkened hallway.

Her whispers in the common room were enough incentive for me to unzip my pants and give her what she wanted. Pulling myself from my jeans, I pushed down on her shoulders. “On your knees, sweetheart,” I demanded, leaning my head back against the wall while I waited for her to wrap her plump lips around my cock.

“Can’t I have a kiss first, Marek?” she whispered, leaning in until her mouth was a little too close to mine.

“You know I don’t kiss, Shelley.” Putting more pressure on her shoulders, she finally obeyed and sank to her knees, pulling me into her mouth immediately, sucking me off quicker than she normally did. I wasn’t stupid. I realized she was pissed that I still wouldn’t give in and kiss her, so if she wanted to take out her anger on my dick, then so be it. As long as she didn’t bite me, it was all good.