War (Kings of Sin MC #2)

19. KINGS OF SIN

Music carries through the compound, rumbling the walls. The crash of bodies gyrating and moving with each other to the thrum of the beat is downright sexual. This is a wake Daddy would get on board with.

Callan growls, scraping his nose up the hollow of my throat. “I need to fuck you, Rogue. It’s all I can think about.” His palm skims up my bare leg, squeezing the apex of my thighs. “This skirt needs to be ripped off.” The table hides us from others sitting around drinking, talking, and flirting.

Biting my lip, I look down at the black leather skirt, the hem kissing the tops of my thighs, and moan when his fingers brush over my panties. “You’ve said that about every outfit I’ve worn this past week.”

Grinning against my mouth, he bites my bottom lip and encases my throat with his palm, fingers digging into my jawline possessively. Lust pulses through my veins, my pussy throbbing.

“Does he ever put you down?” Kitty groans. Callan pulls away, smirking. Kitty’s gaze flickers between Cutter sitting at the bar and Tim talking to one of Daddy’s relatives across the table.

“Not that I’ve seen or heard.” Jericho raises a brow, tipping a glass of whiskey to his lips. “Which reminds me—Grease, we’re swapping bedrooms.” Laughter chimes around the table, and my heart swells. Lifting my drink, the light catches my engagement ring, a small gold crown sitting atop a beautiful diamond. Callan gave it to me the night I killed Tyler.

“Time not being your husband is time wasted. I bought this the day after I saw you in Ray’s. I always knew you were made for me. I want forever with you, Rogue. Marry me?”

It’s been two weeks since the Devils infiltrated the club. We’ve buried eight of our people and burned twenty-two Devils.

Monster hunted down thirteen more, and the rest fled.

“Shots,” Dodger announces, placing a tray of small glasses filled with clear liquid on the table.

“Should you be drinking?” Diamond tsks, sitting beside Jericho.

“It was a spleen they removed, not a kidney,” he defends, raising his top to show off his scar. Wagging his brow, he asks Kitty, “Does it turn you on?” Kitty balks and throws a coaster at him.

“The opposite—and it’s not the scar. It’s the hairy belly button.”

“That just grew back.” He leans against the table. “Stroke it.”

“If you don’t put it away, I’m going to have Cutter shave it with his knife,” Jericho warns. More laughter. More light filling me up.

This is family and love. These people gave me a place to belong, asking for nothing but loyalty in return.

“Can I fuck you now?” Callan whispers against my earlobe, scattering goosebumps over my skin. “Do you want it hard or soft?” His lips caress my jaw. “Fast or slow?” The warm touch travels to my throat. “Pain or pleasure?” He smirks, tugging up the hem of my skirt.

Fisting his shirt, I lick my lips. “I want it all.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” I squeal when he pulls me out of my seat, much to Kitty’s irritation.

“I’ll bring her back in a couple hours.” He winks at her, and she sticks a finger in her mouth.

“Gross.”

An incoming text lights up my new phone. I quickly grab it from the table before Callan can drag me away.

Bear: Missing you, kid . An image of him and my mom on a beach at sunset follows. After Carver’s execution, Bear packed up, went and got my mom, and just drove. He said there was history there and that he’ll tell me about it one day. I always thought it was hate, but there’s a thin line between hatred and love, so maybe I read it wrong.

“Everything good?” Callan asks, squeezing my hand.

“It will be once you fuck me,” I tell him.

Grasping my face, he kisses me until I’m breathless, then picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and marches me to our room, kicking the door open and dropping me on the mattress.

Another text comes in, and Callan raises a brow.

“Do you want to get that, or do you want me to eat your pussy?”

Bear’s name lights up the screen as more pictures come in.

“Pussy,” I growl, tossing the phone.

I feel lighter knowing Bear got out.

The Devils’ clubhouse got burned to cinders—a warning to others.

“Open up, Rogue,” Callan says, his voice husky. I shift my skirt up over my ass.

“Show me who you belong to.”

There’s no mercy for crimes against the Kings.

“You,” I pant, spreading my legs.

We’re barely controlled chaos.

“Always you.”

We are the KINGS OF SIN.

The end for now…

Book 3, Kitty’s story, comes out early next year.