Page 27 of Sypher

Delivering a firm smack on his buttocks, I took hold of his neck, guiding his head down to the floor, my body tingling with anticipation as I positioned my cock at his tight, scorching entrance. His resistance caused my cock to momentarily bend uncomfortably, making me react by pulling his hair as I growled, “You better fucking relax and open up, or this is going to be a long fucking night for you.”

He grunted and moaned but complied with my orders while I slowly pushed my head inside his tight hole. The second the head of my dick slipped past his tight ring, I slammed home, sliding my shaft deep inside him.

I wasn’t sure what triggered it, but a jolt of energy suddenly surged through me, and I felt intensely alive.

“Fuck!”

Lost in the moment, I let out a fierce roar when I thrust deeply into him. “This fucking tight ass is MINE!”

My gaze focused on the sight of my cock moving back and forth in his warm cavity. The sensation of my head rubbing against his prostate added an intense physical element to our lovemaking. The only sounds in the room were the intense grunting and the slapping of our bodies as I pushed to take what I believed was mine.

“Say it!” I yelled, releasing his head and moving to grip his hips as I pummeled my shaft into his ass. “Say it! Tell me you’re mine!”

“I’m yours!”

“Damn right you are,” I sneered and lost all reason when I erupted in a fiery display, shooting cum deep into him, ignoring the warning alarm coming from my computer that would soon take me away from the very man I loved.

Chapter Eleven

Sypher

August 11, 2023, Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse,

Dante got the call right after we had just climbed into bed about the shit that went down at the pier between the Bratva and the club. To make things more interesting, Dante informed me that Harbor Security was also present, which created a massive clusterfuck.

Quickly getting dressed, we rushed from his apartment and headed to the clubhouse to find total pandemonium.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Montana’s roar filled the room as Bane, the club’s doctor, worked quickly to staunch the bleeding from his shoulder. Over in the corner, Maxim Fedorov sat on the floor beside Vladmir while Rurik tended to his wounds.

“Stop moving,” Bane growled.

“Fuck off, Bane, it’s fine!”

“A gunshot to your shoulder is not fine.”

“We’ve got more incoming!” Mercy shouted from the door as Harbor Security walked in, lugging Dmitry and two more Soulless Sinners.

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck happened tonight?!” Matthew Law shouted as he marched into the clubhouse. “I know you fucknuts have your own way of doing shit, but you interfered in my OP!”

“Your OP?” Montana struggled to get up, but Bane forcefully pushed him back into his seat. “Since when does the fucking military do clandestine shit on U.S. soil?”

“Someone contracted with my firm to capture and contain Konstantin Baranov.”

“Who?”

“I did,” Illyria declared, walking into the clubhouse, along with Cesare Vitale and his brothers, all stopping to look around when her eyes landed on her husband, and she rushed over to him.

The clubhouse was total chaos. Everywhere I looked there were brothers, Russians, and even a few Harbor Security men wounded, bleeding out, desperately needing medical attention.

Dante leaned close and whispered, “This isn’t good.”

“No, it isn’t,” I replied as Maxim roared, halting all conversations around the clubhouse.

“Scour the city. Vasiliev couldn’t have gone far. I want him found. Now!”

“We’ll find him, boss,” Rurik firmly stated before snapping his fingers at the rest of the Bloodletter’s men, when in walked a familiar face, grinning like a fucking lunatic, dragging an unconscious man behind him.

Illyria gasped. “Dwayne?”

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