Page 120 of Beautifully Shattered
I snort, standing and slipping the gun he gifted me at the start of the week into my bag. His gaze follows the motion before grazing up my thighs and coming to rest on the holster belt Jols gave me, which is secured around my waist, holding a knife.
I’d completely forgotten all about the knife Dee gave me weeks ago. I’d found it in the bedside drawer, and have been practising using it over the last few days, wanting to be better prepared in case someone tries to take me again.
I’m not stupid. I know this raid on the Satan’s Rebels’ hideaway is going to be a thousand times more dangerous than stumbling across my dad or visiting Karl Stone, but I wasn’t lying when I told Ringo I was sick of waiting around.
This is my life now.
These are my people now.
I’ll fight for them too, and the Rebels are a shared threat to both me and the MC.
“Okay… sure.” I smirk at Ringo, knowing he absolutely won’t doanythingto get me to stay behind. “I’ll stay here if you give JD a blowie until he cums down your throat.”
“The fuck!” Ringo lurches up from the barstool as JD howls in laughter.
“Fuck yeah, man. Suck my cock like a good boy!”
Jols and I start cackling, but my lips snap shut the moment I see Ringo storming my way with fury in his eyes.
Spinning, a squeak flies from me as I try to bolt, only making it a few steps before his arms weave around me, snatching me up off the ground as I flail.
“It’sabout time I fucking punished you.” Ringo’s breath is hot against my ear as he carries me across the barn.
“No! Help! Jols! JD!” I plead.
“You’re on your own.” JD laughs. “Ain’t no fucking way I’m gonna try to stop him when he has a raging hard-on.”
“Traitor!” I screech, right as Ringo kicks open the bathroom door. “Stop! We have to go!” I yell, but my words are only met with his deep, dark chuckle.
“We’ll go when I’m fucking ready,” he snaps in my ear, the snip of the lock loud in the small space.
Shit. I’m in trouble.
The best kind, of course.
My heart pounds in anticipation, even though I should be shutting this shit down.
“You can’t fuck me yet,” I choke out, trying to pry his tight grip loose from around me, but he’s already got my cheek smushed up against the wall, his body pressing into mine from behind.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he growls, somehow managing to wrangle both my wrists into one of his hands, pinning them above my head, while his other hand slides between me and the wall, starting to undo my black leather pants.
“Ringo…” I half-whimper, half-moan, annoyed at how desperate I am for his touch.
“You’ve been a brat all fucking week,” he snarls, nipping at my earlobe as he finally gets my pants open and starts shoving them down. “I know what you learned about your family has been a lot, and you’re fucking frustrated we don’t have a lead on your sister yet.” He wrestles my pants down to my ankles, the chill in the air hitting the places on me that feel like they are on fire. “But you need to rememberwhofucking owns your smart mouth.”
I’m about to protest when he steps back from me, my wrists still locked in his grip, and a second later, the biting sting that explodes across my backside has me half-screaming, half-choking as his hand slaps down hard with a loud clap.
It stings, and burns, and shit, humiliation floods through me at being handled like this, but something else happens, too.
I heat. From the inside out. Deep in my core, rushing straight to my clit.
I’m on fire.
Trying to hold back my whimper, I fail, the needy sound escaping anyway, and Ringo leans in close again, his lips pressed right up to my ear.
“Colour?”
“G-green.” I pant, not entirely understanding why I’m not red right now.
