KICK

I jolt upright. Sweat beads my brow and I wipe it away with the back of my hand. Ivy sits up, her long dark hair trailing over my shoulder as she wraps her naked body around me. She kisses my neck, presses her warm tits into my back and slides her hand around to my cock, which is harder than fucking concrete. That’s the really sick thing about it. No matter how many times I relive the dream, the end result is always the same. Has been for years. I see her bound and gagged with a gun at her temple and I wake up hornier than a fucking bitch in heat. I shove at Ivy’s small, expert hands and stand, causing her to lose her balance.

I grab a pack of smokes from the bedside table and light up. Down the hall, the party’s still going strong. Who am I fuckin’ kidding? At the Savage Saints clubhouse, every night is a fuckin’ party. There’s always an endless supply of hard liquor, even harder drugs and slippery pussy that’ll ride your cock until you can’t get hard no more.

I look at the club whore in my bed. Perfect tits, perfect arse, perfect fucking face. She coulda been a model, or a Hollywood starlet. Instead she’s passed around between the brothers, used and abused. And what’s more? She fucking loves it.

“What are you doing here, darlin’?” I ask, ’cause I can’t for the life of me see how hanging around a club full of arsehole and degenerate criminals is the kind of career move a smart young woman should make.

“Hoping you come back to bed.” Her eyes follow the line of my torso, rolling over every inch of hard-won muscle. She holds out her hand for my smoke, but I just laugh and shake my head. She pouts.

“Get up. Go home.” I throw a short leather skirt and a ripped up Harley-Davidson top at her. I can’t find her underwear, but then again, Ivy doesn’t ever really wear it. “Go and get a job in a fucking coffee shop, or some shit. You need away from this club, sweetheart.”

“I happen to like this club,” she says, tossing that shit she calls clothing aside and coming up on her knees. Her hand wraps around my lagging dick, sliding over the barbell in my frenum. She smiles triumphantly when my cock hardens in her soft grip. “And I’d rather get you up.”

“You like being treated like a whore, darlin’?” I nip at her neck as she strokes me, faster, harder.

“I like being treated like your whore.”

“Stupid girl.” I grunt and take a drag of my cigarette, cupping her nape in my hand. I pull her close and cover her mouth with mine, blowing smoke into her lugs. She gags and wrenches free, her eyes watering.

“I hate when you do that.”

“I know.” I chuckle.

“That bitch really did a number on you, huh, Kick?”

My hand shoots out and slips around her throat. “You don’t get to say shit about her, you got me?”

Ivy swallows. The muscles of her throat bob against my hand as I tighten my grip. Her eyes widen in fear. I smile. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna strangle you. It’d be more trouble than it’s worth, trying to get rid of the body.” I slide my free hand over her tits, twisting her nipple, hard.

“You’re hurting me.”

“But that’s the way you like it, isn’t it, baby? Rough and hard. Just the way your daddy used to give it to you.” I squeeze her firm arse, raking my blunt fingernails across her smooth flesh. She arches into my touch, her tits thrusting forward, firm nipples brushing my chest. 

“Oh, yeah.” She moans. “Hurt me, Daddy.”

“You’re one sick bitch, Ivy, you know that right?” I shake my head, sliding my fingers down the seam of her crack. She spreads her legs wider for me. I thrust a dry finger in her arse, and my thumb inside her cunt. She moans and rocks against my hand until she comes, slapping and scratching at my bare chest. I tighten my hold around her neck, watching her gasp for air as she rides out the remainder of her orgasm. 

With my hand wrapped around her throat I pull her closer, smother her mouth with my kiss, and then I fuck her. For hours. In every hole she possesses, and in every position possible because the bitch is hot, and not just that, beyond the gorgeous tits, and hair, and that broken down look she gets in her eyes right before she comes, squeezing my cock with her pussy harder than a vice. It’s because I recognise something in her. Something more than her fucked-up daddy fantasies and her innate need to be used up. I recognise loneliness. And the fact that she may just be the one other person inside this clubhouse who is as fucked in the head as I am.

My brothers kick her out when she begins sobbing like a little girl. They can’t wait to be rid of her. After they’ve used up every hole she has to offer, they discard her like trash. But not me. I like to watch her cry. I taste her tears. I relish them. Because pain is beauty, at least in my world. And everything in my world is pain.

Has been since the morning I woke with a gun pressed to my head. 

Since her life was snuffed out.