Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
“Come again. Come on my cock, Maren. Let me feel it.”
She broke with a cry, her pussy clamping down so hard I saw fucking stars.
I followed her over the edge with a roar, grinding into her as I came again, spilling every last drop of my seed inside her. Then my head fell to her shoulder, and I bit down lightly, claiming her all over again.
We collapsed in a heap, tangled in the sheets and our own sweat, her body still twitching in aftershocks.
She was breathless, spent, and absolutely fucking perfect.
But I still wasn’t finished. Not until I had her begging for mercy. Or begging for more.
Whichever came first.
17
KEVLAR
They came at night. There was no subtlety or caution. Just arrogance.
Three blacked-out SUVs rolled up to the edge of our compound, creeping slowly like they thought we wouldn’t notice. As though they were the hunters and we were just some unsuspecting prey sleeping behind our walls.
But we saw them coming before they breached the tree line.
Idiots.
They weren’t ready for what was coming. Not for the kind of welcome that comes with silencers, steel, and a body count.
The compound was deceptively quiet. Dinner was wrapped up, the lights were low, and most of the club was either in the lounge or guarding the perimeter. Rebel had been patrolling the south fence line when he saw the first glint of glass in the trees. Cross was posted on the north entrance. Tomcat and Echo were inside the camera room with Wizard, reviewing exterior loops. I was coming out of the armory when I got the call over comms.
“Company at the south tree line,” Rebel announced. “Three SUVs. Running dark. They think they’re being slick.”
That was all it took to bring the entire Hounds compound to life. But it wasn’t flashy like people would think. Floodlights didn’t flicker on. Sirens didn’t wail. That wasn’t how we did things. We weren’t loud or obvious. We moved like men who understood silence and how to use it to our advantage.
Fallon and Ink were already making their way through the shadows, each slipping from different corners of the lot. Blaze had been standing with King in my office, so all three of us were armed and ready within seconds.
When we exited the building, I took point. They were coming for her, and no one touched what was mine.
We let the first team get through the fence. Three men on foot, dressed in matte black vests under jackets, weapons tucked close to their bodies. One of them peeled toward the back, another hung low by the garage wall, and the third headed toward the front door.
They didn’t make it ten steps.
The first one dropped when Cruze cut through the dark and slit his throat from behind. The man didn’t make a sound as his body hit the gravel.
The second went down harder, taken by Rebel in a fast, brutal hit. One punch to the ribs, then another to the head, knocking him out.
The third one was mine.
He was fast—one of the quick, twitchy types who thought speed would save him. It didn’t. I met him halfway between the path and the porch, caught his wrist mid-reach, twisted until the bone popped, and slammed him face-first into the ground.
His breath left in a sharp gasp, and I dropped to one knee beside him. “You picked the wrong fucking house.”
He went for a knife. I snapped his arm at the elbow.
“Kev,” Tomcat called, voice low in my comm. “South gate. Three more.”
“Got it,” I answered, already rising.
The next team was better trained. They didn’t bunch together as they swept the southern side like they’d drilled for it, each one covering angles and moving tight. Echo took the one on the left with a suppressed round to the base of the skull. Cross came in from the east and buried a blade in the chest of the second.
The third tried to run. Ink caught him at the corner of the garage and introduced him to the butt of his rifle. The man crumpled, groaning, and Ink stepped over him without even looking back.
I glanced down at him, debating.
“Leave him for now,” King ordered as he stepped from the shadows. “He’s out cold, and he might be the one we’ll get to talk.”
We dragged the survivor to the small building at the back of the compound, shrouded in the trees. It was where we took people to be questioned. And where some of those people never walked back out.
By the time we got there, Flint had a saline bag hanging and a compression wrap around the bastard’s head to make sure he didn’t pass out on us before we were done asking questions.
I stood in front of him, my arms crossed and shirt still streaked with blood. Tomcat leaned against the wall, his eyes flat. Cruze took a chair across the room and sat, spinning a knife between his fingers like he was bored.