Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) by B.B. Blaque (best books to read for self development .TXT) 📕

the fuck I wanted—to feel her crumble into me. When I knew she was done, I pulled out and yanked her to the ground.

“Suck my cock . . . taste your filthy, dirty confession and lick it off my balls . . . that’s how your sin tastes, slut!” I shoved myself deep into her mouth and held the back of her head to me as I came. When I was finished, I grabbed her hair hard and turned her face up to me. “Now that you’ve confessed . . . it’s time to pay the price for your sins!”

Do the right thing for once or it’ll be the last.

4

The Lady Wore Black

I pulled up my jeans and looked at her on the ground at my feet. I thought of all the other bitches who’d done the same damn thing over the years. Not a motherfuckin’ one of them meant as much to me as she did. It was make or break time, and I could only hope she’d make the choice, one way or the other. I prayed it wasn’t the last time I’d see her kneelin’ in front of me.

Don’t make me choose for you.

“Time to get the punishment for your . . . how many sins was that?” I grabbed her and wrapped my belt around her hands. “It was some fuckin’ crazy number . . . over 200 . . . maybe I’ll give you 250 lashes . . . what do ya think?”

I pulled her toward the door of the club and she was doin’ what she always did at that point—cryin’ her eyes out. “Will that be enough? Will your dirty thoughts go away . . . will the sins you’ve committed be washed down the drain when you try to clean me off of your pristine pussy?”

I punished her every time since the very first night and it’s gone from makin’ her walk around with my cum in her panties to lashing her so bad she’d have marks for weeks. Somewhere between gettin’ off, cryin’, and all of the other bullshit, she feels clean. How the fuck that works, I really didn’t know. Maybe ‘cause I’m a guy, or maybe because I never went as far as priesthood, but the whole confession thing always bugs the fuck outta me. You can do any-fuckin’-thing you wanna do, just as long as you go tell someone—who could’ve become someone like me—your sins. So, she comes to unburden herself and uses me like a fuckin’ bar of soap to clean her soul or somethin’. If I didn’t like the game and fuckin’ her so much, I wouldn’t have ever allowed the shit to go on for so long.

If I didn’t love her so much.

“You stay right here.” I fastened the belt to the brass rail of the service bar. “I’m gonna get my tools . . . see if you can guess what they’ll be.”

I tried to change my toys up on her. It wasn’t as much fun if she knew what to expect. I didn’t want her gettin’ ready for whatever it was. Belt’s out. I’d already decided on a couple canes and my knotted flogger. When I came back down, she was still in position and I was gonna give her every one of the lashes I told her I would.

“You’ve been sinnin’ like it’s your fuckin’ job instead of doin’ your actual job . . . why don’t ya give it up already? Seriously, Fi. You’d much rather rub that pussy thinkin’ about me fuckin’ you like an animal . . . you’ll rub that thing until it bleeds.” I ran a couple fingers between her soft, wet lips. “Masturbation . . . is supposed to be a big sin . . . but self-flagellation for some reason . . . is acceptable. Instead, you let me whip the fuck outta you, and no question, I love doin’ it to ya, but this little merry-go-round between us needs to come to a stop.”

That was all it took to set me completely off. I was over her jerkin’ my chain. The one on my dick could be dealt with in a snap of my fingers. The one that wrapped my heart with barbed wire was what needed to be snipped clean. The inside of my chest was probably like chopped meat and enough was enough.

“Count, sister! Tell me every motherfuckin’ sin you’ve committed! Don’t you dare leave out how you’ve been shreddin’ my heart since I walked through that door tonight!”

I brought the cane down hard. I didn’t warm her up, I didn’t care. Maybe I was tryin’ to make her decide to leave. “You deserve this punishment in the eyes of the church . . . in your own . . . but most importantly . . . in mine.”

I brought the cane down over her shoulders and then across her ass. There wasn’t time in between for counting. Those were all for me and not her penance. As I listened to the sound of the switch cuttin’ through the air and smackin’ against her skin, it fueled me. The vision of the marks as they swelled to the surface were like our pain comin’ to the surface of her flesh. I lost count of how many times I hit her or how many sins she’d named. It was my purge. I was bein’ a selfish prick and I didn’t give a fuck. There was gonna be more pain to follow and I knew it.

“That’s it, sister . . . cry for me! Do you feel all of our agony erupting on your skin? Why should you be allowed to keep shit hidden? I wear mine out in the open with every needle that’s been in my skin across my shoulders . . . down my arms . . . the cross