Biker’s Collar: Property of Scrap (Rebel Barbarians MC #6)

Chapter 25 – Vickie

Twenty-Five

Vickie

I can either spread my lips and take Owen’s dick in my mouth, or tell him the truth about my past. The truth of how I ended up in Vegas. It’s humiliating — and not a humiliation that I want to face again. It feels like my throat is clogged with wet toilet paper.

He asked a simple question. I should be able to answer. Instead, I spit on Owen’s big white dick like that will make him or his question go away. He makes a low, lust-filled groan, but spitting on his dick doesn’t give me as much control over him as I hoped.

Owen’s dark brows get all scrunched up and his jawline makes him look like a stern Greek statue.

“I want to know the truth.”

Veins bulge out of his dick and his thick, muscular forearms. He doesn’t care how hard I’m making his dick this time. He’s too fiercely determined to get answers from me. The thought of any type of vulnerability scares me. I would rather spit on his dick. Take it deep down my throat. Do anything to hide from raw emotions. Not like it’s easy to hide from emotions when I’m naked with Owen.

He makes it impossible because he’s a fucking demon.

“Tell me,” he demands before I can protest again. “I’ll make it much worse if you don’t start talking.”

“I hate you.”

“Good,” he says. And he acts like he really means it. Freaky ass man. “Get wherever you need to tell me the truth.”

“I was a naive idiot. My cousin’s boyfriend’s brother started writing me letters and… I thought he was in love with me. I believed he was in love with me.”

“When did that start?”

“When I was around a sophomore in high school.”

“So when you were a kid.”

“You don’t need to be eighteen to know that’s wrong.”

Owen steps back. His dick doesn’t seem as hard as it was before. He looks angry. I told him that he didn’t want to know. Now he looks like all the rage rushed out of his dick to his brain. Ironically, I would rather not deal with Owen’s evil fucked up brain right now.

“I told you that you didn’t want to know,” I snap at him. I wish I had something I could crush up and feed him. Something that would knock him out long enough for me to disappear somewhere far away. Like Nova Scotia. Bet his ass wouldn’t find me in Nova Scotia — collar or no collar.

“You have no understanding of how fucked up that situation is,” he says. “What did those letters say?”

Owen keeps pushing and pushing me. Naked. Unbothered by his nakedness. Meanwhile, my vulnerability feels like it’s killing me. And it’s not enough for him. He wants more. Isn’t it bad enough that I was stupid enough to believe that my cousin’s boyfriend’s brother was in love with me? He knows I ran away with Hakeem. He knows how that bullshit hurt me and twisted me up inside. I don’t need to talk about it. Owen clearly disagrees.

“Don’t you know enough?”

“I need to know everything about you,” he says with that infuriatingly hot voice he has. I swear, his voice could push me over the edge on its own. I wish he was saying something that I wanted to hear.

My voice emerges weakly, “You’re so stupid.”

Insulting him is all I have left. Vulnerability feels too threatening and I revert specifically to some animalistic version of myself that just screams at me to protect my heart. Do anything to protect my heart.

“Oh, I’m stupid as fuck,” he says. “Doesn’t change shit. Tell me what the letters said, Vickie.”

He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. That gets his dick nice and hard again. He’s restraining himself. So desperate to know the truth about me that not even my spit slathered all over his dick pulls him out of the trance. He is so fucking desperate to break me open and the worst part is… it’s working.

I already told him more than I thought I would and I don’t know what to do about it.

There is more tension and pressure around this confession than I have had in my life. It’s been years and I’ve never spoken the truth out loud. I just let it all happen to me because I mean… It was my fault, wasn’t it? I ran off with him. I believed everything in those letters and I let my family down. I dropped out of school, packed my things and met Hakeem at a bus station to run away with him.

I had the audacity to leave them a good-bye note. That fucking note haunted me for years. I’m too ashamed to ever go back. I know they have a Missing Person’s case out and that there are people looking for me but… they won’t find me unless I go back to where I came from. They don’t have the money to find me and I don’t want to remind them of how fucking horrible I was.

“What did the letters say,” Owen says. “You have no choice but to submit to me, Vickie.”

He doesn’t scare me as much as he thinks he does. But maybe his intense pressure on me is a sign that I need to just get this shit off my chest. I’ll say it and hey, maybe I’ll die flying off the back of this maniac’s bike and it won’t even matter. Being vulnerable with him won’t make me love him. Nothing will make me love a man ever again.

“I was a really insecure kid,” I say to him. I can feel myself swirling around the story, like I’m trying to build justifications and excuses for myself. Does being an insecure kid justify what I did?

“It started with him just saying he thought I was really pretty. I ignored the first letter but… when you never had a boyfriend and an older guy sends you ten love letters, you start to pay attention.”

Owen scowls and it just makes everything so much worse that I can’t read his fucking mind. I feel so fucked up about this. I haven’t said these words to a single soul and I hate this man for being so… quiet.

“So you paid attention,” Owen says gently, his voice guiding me along. “What did you do?”

“I did what he asked in the letters. I wrote him back. We started up like that until I graduated high school. He said he didn’t want to do anything until I turned eighteen.”

Owen’s face turns red. He can hide his emotions, but he can’t hide that he’s feeling something.

“Did he wait?”

The guilt, the pain, and the humiliation of everything makes me want to hurl. I might do a little more than spit on this man’s dick if he isn’t careful about pushing me. It feels like he’s trying to reel this story out with barbed fish hooks on the line as he drags it out.

I am fucking hurting just remembering this.

Physical pain.

“No,” I tell him. “He didn’t wait.”

And it’s so much worse than that. But maybe now that Owen has the information he wants, he’ll stop.

“That man is going to die.”

“I know that’s your grand plan.”

“Tell me the rest of the story. You wrote him back and ran away. I want to know everything that happened. Everything.”

I look up at him with absolute fury. But when I meet Owen’s eyes, the fury melts away. I see his humanity. Something in him that I didn’t allow myself to notice before. He’s different from the other men I’ve been near. He cares.

He cares about me.

I don’t know why that feels so fucking dangerous. All I know is that I’m a fucked up person and I don’t deserve Owen looking at me like I’m… important to him.

“It kept escalating and we met up a few times when I was sixteen. He was my first kiss and that got into my head. Five months away from my eighteenth birthday, I ran away with him. Once we got far away from my parents’ house… he forced himself on me and then sold me to men afterwards.”

I got him to stop, eventually. I promised him I would be more useful somewhere else, and then I learned how to fix slot machines, run card tables and hustle egotistical white boys out of their money. Those hard, painful years of being used are blotted out of my memory and frankly, I don’t want to remember the details. I still have the numbness. The only time I feel anything with a man… is with this one.

“Fuck,” Owen says. Now he looks extremely angry. He can’t hide himself now. He approaches me and grabs my cheeks. “This man will die, Vickie. I promise.”

I want to argue or say something that pushes Owen away from me one last time, but he won’t let me. When he’s done kissing me, he keeps his hand on my head and grabs his dick with his other hand, pressing the tip of his dick against my mouth.

His anger fades once he has me in this position.

“I still need my dick sucked, princess. Trust me, it’ll make us both feel better.”

I would rather suck his dick than talk at this point. He meets no resistance when he thrusts his hips forward. Owen’s dick is so damn big. I have to stretch my lips wide just to fit the head in. Owen keeps his hand clutching my hair and I can feel his energy surging through his fingertips as he slides the first inch of his cock inside me. Owen’s satisfied groan almost makes me think he’s ready to cum. He barely has half his dick inside me. I should have known he would want more.

My mouth stretches wider as Owen pushes more of his dick inside me. He groans in pleasure and my mouth opens wider. I don’t fight him. Submitting to him like this after building up so much fucking tension from reliving my past actually feels good. I want to put it out of my head and just let everything go except pleasuring Owen’s gigantic dick. I have to focus so I can breathe.

Once he has more than half his dick in my mouth, breathing gets much harder.

Owen’s dick is big and the second he spreads my lips, I feel pain surging through me and a strange desire to take him deeper. To feel alive from having him do this to me.

“You feel so fucking good,” Owen grunts. My heart flips again. I can’t say a word of what I really feel, but he blurts out everything on his mind like there isn’t a damn thing in this world that scares him. Not even vulnerability. It doesn’t feel fair.

I close my eyes and try to pretend that letting him in doesn’t scare me. Now that he knows my secret, he can control me. Betray me. It’s bad enough he put that collar around my neck and had sex with me in a way that busted my heart wide open. I let him into my past. Into the story of Vickie Tolliver. I never let anyone know that story before.

I lied to every girl I met in the club, telling them versions of the truth. I never wanted anyone to connect me back to the life I left behind or the shame that came with it. Owen doesn’t seem to care that my past is something so royally fucked up.

“I want to cum in that sweet fucking mouth,” he growls before surprising me by pushing his hips forward and nearly choking me with the full length of his dick. I feel the tip touching the back of my throat. Spit rushes out my nose. I make a soft, choking sound and gag as Owen’s dick claims every inch of my throat.

It’s too much for him to handle. He groans loudly and I can feel him trying to give me some relief from the size of his dick, but he can’t control his orgasm. Cum rushes out of his cock and coats the back of my throat. I gasp loudly as he pushes all the way inside me again, following his instincts and nearly suffocating me.

Pushing my head back into the pillow is the only way I can fight the force of Owen’s cum, but his dick is so big that I can only get a few inches of relief. He only leaves me without oxygen for a few seconds before pulling away. I instantly meet his gaze. I don’t know why. My previous vulnerability makes me weak.

With my lips shut, I have no choice but to swallow his cum. I would much rather do that than let him drip out of my lips. He tastes warm. Salty. Not bad.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Owen says. There’s that flutter in my chest again. Vulnerability and something else. He scowls at me. Or at the world in general. I can’t tell which.

“I need you to trust me with the Hakeem thing,” he says. “Can you do that?”

“We’re just going to kill him. I know what you’re capable of.”

He smirks. “I could say the same for you.”

Owen joins me in bed after freeing me from his restraints. He is so damn eager and quick to jump into bed with me that I barely realize what the hell is happening until he’s just… there. All 6’4” of Owen’s gigantic hairy body presses against mine and I can feel every raw inch of his well developed muscles pulsing beneath my grasp.

I feel scared to touch him. But Owen doesn’t seem afraid of anything at all. He grabs my cheeks and he kisses me like I didn’t just suck his dick. He makes a low groan in his throat as his tongue enters my mouth. Not disgust. Desire. Wetness gushes between my thighs and I don’t know what the fuck to do with that strange fucked up feeling that comes along with my new vulnerability.

Owen just kisses me like he isn’t thinking of a damn thing. I work up the courage to touch him because I have to make my hands do something so I don’t die from the awkwardness that accompanies my new openness. Owen is just so big. So goddamn sure of himself. His confidence is a danger to both of us, but right now, it just makes me feel safe trusting him.

Weirdly.

I touch his back and a shiver runs straight through me. It’s a ‘yes’. The desire goes through every inch of my body and adds to the wetness between my legs.

“Your hands feel so good,” he murmurs. “Keep touching me, Vickie. Don’t stop… Don’t fucking stop…”

We don’t stop kissing until my lips feel like they’re about to fall off. They burn. Owen pulls away to get a good look at me with his face pressed to mine. My awkwardness and vulnerability feel like they’re both crashing into me intensely. I can’t hide from him now.

“You looked so hot swallowing my cum,” Owen whispers, running his thumb over my lips. “I’m going to fuck you now…”

Owen takes my clothes off slowly, watching my reaction as he reveals each new piece of my skin. He does everything with so much impossible patience, kissing parts of me one bit at a time as he exposes me. Owen spreads my legs once he has me naked the way he wants, and instantly touches between my lower lips, embarrassing me by exposing how wet I am for him. I hate feeling this exposed. But Owen loves it. His face gleams with pure delight and crow’s feet draw at the corners of his handsome eyes.

“I knew you would be wet,” he says. “You can’t hide how much you love my big white dick…”

I want to say something smart and disapproving of him mouthing off like that, but Owen stops me with a distracting and intense kiss. He spreads my lips open, pushing his tongue in and teasing my tongue. Playing with me.

My hands grab his ass cheeks and I don’t even know how he brings this lust out of me. I pull him close. I moan for him. I want to feel Owen’s dick between my thighs. He hikes my legs up and spreads me open. I feel that large head rubbing against my entrance. My breath catches. I can still taste him all over my tongue. His smell invades my nostrils and now the head of his dick throbs against my entrance, promising me relief from the pain of vulnerability.

“I want you,” Owen whispers. “Second I saw your sexy ass, I wanted you… I can’t believe I found you again, even when you tried to run…”

He thrusts the head of his dick inside me and I lose control of myself from the first moan. I can’t even hide it. My body responds too perfectly to his and my hips buck forward, drawing Owen’s dick deeper inside me. I feel tight, like his dick is so big that it’s creating pressure in my pelvis. I gasp for breath and try to move my hips, but he still had to thrust forward hard to get his dick buried inside me to the hilt.

Pleasure spreads through every inch of me. I can’t hold back. My hands clutch Owen’s taut ass cheeks as he thrusts into me and the rush of euphoria spreads through me. I crave more. I want him deeper. Every inch of him. Owen’s scent envelops me as my fingers tease their way over his back muscles. He is so goddamn sexy. A gush pulses between my thighs as his masculine body pushes his dick deeper into me. He cradles me against the bed, both claiming and protecting me with each thrust.

It’s so hot.

“I want you,” he grunts as he delivers another deep thrust between my legs. It’s enough to make me cum. His dick. His words. Everything about Owen. I pull him deeper again, clutching his back with agitated desperation as I beg for his cum.

“Then take me,” I whisper. “Just fuck me…”

I have never said anything like that. Never meant it. Never done it for any other reason than to make a man finish. This time, I ride my own waves of pleasure with Owen’s thrusting. I want him to feel what I feel. Our lips join and I can feel his dick stiffen inside me as our bodies move together.

I want him to finish inside me. I need it. Grasping onto Owen, I pull him in deeper. My body begs for him and he responds with a final thrust and an eruption inside me that makes every inch of me shudder. So much cum. So warm. The pleasure spirals through my core and towards all my extremities. I have zero control. Just feeling in every part of my body.

Owen kisses my neck, sending another shiver through me and reminding me that I am the complete opposite of numb. Every inch of me tingles with life. With desire. I can feel sweat on my skin. Smell Owen. Myself. Our bodies feel so slick and warm together. I wriggle beneath Owen, giving him access to more of my neck.

“Mm,” he murmurs. “That tastes good.”

His dick stiffens between my legs before he withdraws. My chest catches. Round two already? Damn. I pull him closer, wrapping my thighs around him tightly to keep him in bed where I shouldn’t even want Owen Shaw.

But he feels so good.

And just for tonight, even if it’s just the mind-blowing sex talking, I want to let everything go.