By TheAnnoyingBitch All Rights Reserved ©

Erotica / Action


“Tell me you at least stabbed him in the eye. I hear it’s a talent of yours.” Ax commented lightly as Mick crossed the threshold of his garage with a big shit-eating grin on his rugged features.

He sighed regretfully. “No, I’m afraid not. Xavier got there before I took my knives out.” But he had done something bad, that much was apparent. He was waiting for the opportunity to gloat.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a time for gloating, there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Did you make sure the fucker won’t touch anyone else?”

Mick nodded. “Xavier made extra sure he remembered all of us.” Ax mimicked the reaction. “Then that’s all I need to know.” He said, thankful that at least one of their never ending problems had been dealt with. “And your girl? How is she?”

Mick smiled as Aurelia’s face appeared in his mind. “Happier. Her nightmares stopped and she’s thinking about going back to school next week.”

Ax saw the look on his face and couldn’t keep the question from flying away from his parted lips. “You love her, don’t you?” There was no verbal reply needed. Mick grinned, nodding his head.

He would never forget her face when he had told her that she didn’t have to worry about that sorry excuse of a man anymore. Tears escaped from her chocolate brown eyes and she threw her arms arms him, not even bearing the thought of even an inch separating their bodies.

Just a few hours ago she had confessed that she had fallen in love with him but that wasn’t what had caught him by surprise. He was surprised that he confessed that he felt the same.

He loved her and he had to let her go.

What a terrible thing love is, tearing people apart more often than bringing them together.

Mick kept giving himself days.

Days to let her go.

But the days had turned into weeks and he still was telling himself he had time.

He was forgetting, however, that time was nothing but an illusion.

“I’m glad” He really was. “Fuck, you have no idea how glad I am.” His mind kept him from hugging the motherfucker and letting him know how much he deserved it.

“If you start crying, I’m leaving.” He threatened, his own eyes glistening at the corners.

Ax started looking around his shop, avoiding his friends eyes as he raised the back of his hand and brought it to wipe whatever traces of his momentary lapse there were. “I didn’t fucking bring you here to cry my fucking ass out, idiot.” His eyes fell on a previously beautiful vehicle, which now was nothing more than a somewhat destroyed piece of metal. It would take a lot to fix it, but thankfully, Ax’s persistence would never let him give up on it.

Mick’s devilish brown eyes followed Ax’s. He grimaced as soon as he saw the royal blue paint. Fucking hell. “Is that?” He knew damn well it was.

“Eros’ Jaguar XJ6? Yes, it is.” His heart bled for the fucking car. Rightfully so, considering he was the one who had restored it in the first place. He remembered that day, the band had just released their first album and Scott, their manager, had given them a bit of cash in advance. Eros had been looking at that particular car for almost two years and even though their parents had offered to buy it for him, he kept telling them that he wanted to buy it on his own.

Stubbornness was a common trait in that family.

That day, Eros had strolled around the house laughing and singing. Andromeda had locked herself in the bathroom and cried her heart out. It had been the first time in years that her eldest son had been in such a joyful mood, it had been too much for her. After she had managed to pull herself together, Lorenzo had coaxed her into coming outside to see what had made Eros so damn happy.

They had to keep her from crying at the idiot’s grin as he pointed to the car and asked their father to fix it for him. Lorenzo had suggested that Ax should be the one to fix, and he did.

When he brought the car back to Eros, a whole month later, he laughed manically and stared at the sky as if now he possessed all he needed to conquer it.

Fucking Icarus, he thought grimly. It was true, Eros had always been like Icarus. He never was able to comprehend that if you soar then you’ll eventually fall and your wax wings will melt and burn your body before you crash on the rocks you tried so hard to avoid and your body becomes nothing more than scattered bones with attached pieces of flesh.

Gruesome, yes, but it showed the truth.

And the world is nothing, if not brutal.

“Shit!” Mick exclaimed, his dark sensual eyes never leaving the piece of metal that used to be the singer’s pride and joy. “How long will it take for you to fix it?”

“A couple of months, at best. I have to order a few parts, like a new engine, but I’ll do it.”

“I know you will. Is Eros going to practice being a full-time hermit in the meantime?”

Ax nodded, rolling his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “I have to show you something.” He was rather reluctant to give the only evidence he had to Mick because then he would have to acknowledge it for what it truly was. He didn’t want to ruin on of their carefree moments, since they came so far and between.

Especially, after the last forty-eight hours he had spent with Celia. She had been asleep for the greater part of their time together but the moments she spent awake tore his soul to pieces. She would run straight to the bathroom and he would follow, holding her hair back, even though she had tried her hardest so that he wouldn’t see her in such a vulnerable state. When would she learn that she wasn’t going to scare him off no matter what she tried.

No matter what she admitted.

It wasn’t time to think about what she had admitted.

After all, she was drugged, for all he knew she had no understanding of what was happening.

His fingers played with the edges of the paper before grasping it decisively and handing it over to his best friend. It was still crumpled, a bit torn at the edges, courtesy of Ax’s impatience.

Mick held the piece of paper in his hands, staring at it with a strange expression on his handsome face. He unwrapped it, like it was some present, with restrained patience while looking at Ax for a clue of what it might be.

As soon as he had read the words, Mick felt his blood run cold.

It wasn’t an accident.

Simple as the phrase might have been, he couldn’t understand it. He reread it, over and over again until the words were echoing in his brain. And holy fuck were they loud.

But he still couldn’t understand.

While the brown haired man studied the paper, Ax studied him.

He saw his self reflected there on his face, like it was a mirror of sorts.

People had always told them that they looked alike and he had just realized it at that exact second. They had the exact same character. They were both used to getting what they wanted, no matter what that was.

Men like them were wild animals, they could never be able to survive in captivity. If someone tried to keep them locked in a cage, they would take their time, appear more timid and domesticated until those who had taken their freedom away made the mistake to open the cage.

Then they would attack.

And only destruction would be left in their path.

Destruction of everything that broke them, tore them apart but never stiched them back.

“How could it not have been a fucking accident?” He yelled.

“I checked the car, someone had messed with the brakes” Ax had grown tired of that idiotic cliché in which the villain fucks with the brakes. “It’s like whoever did this wanted me to know it was intentional and picked the most obvious way to do it.”

Ax preferred other methods.

Like draining the power steering fluid. It was perhaps, the second easiest thing to do, after playing with the brakes, of course. The car would start heating up from the moment the driver fired the engine. Eventually it would start seizing up to the point where they couldn’t steer.

Or taking the inferior fuel pump access panel off and practically making a bomb that would set the car on fire.

He loved the latter and would most likely attempt it to whoever tried to kill his brother.

“Perhaps, he did want you to know.” Mick told him, his smile nowhere to be seen.

Fucking hell, he thought, wanting to bang his head against the nearest wall, where has this come from?

“What are we going to do about it?” He questioned the blue eyed man, whose eyes appeared to have flames hiding inside of their dark abyssal pools. “Where the fuck would we even start? And why do you assume you’re the one they wanted to send this message to?”

“I’ve pissed of a lot of fuckers in my time, Mick. You know that.”

“You’re not the only one. Eros isn’t a ray of fucking sunshine, either.” He contradicted, his striking features filled with unease.

Ax nodded begrudgingly. He plopped his muscled body on the cold hard floor and pressed the palms of his rough hands to his eyes. “I don’t know what to do about this.”

Mick sat next to Ax. He understood the internal battle his best friend was facing because the same battle was inside his head. He didn’t know what to do either but to admit that would mean surrendering and he sure as fuck wasn’t about to surrender. Mick sighed and cursed his logic a few times before opening his mouth. “We’ll figure it out.”

There is something extremely erotic about a man on his knees.

His stance brings strange feelings to the surface, the temperature rises and you are left gasping for breath, even though he has not even touched you yet. It’s the anticipation, the excitement, the dive into the unknown that drives you wild.

Celia wanted to groan in impatience, wanting to let him know of her growing frustration, however, as he kneeled in front of her she came to the conclusion that she was prideful enough not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her.

She possessed all the power in the world in that moment. She was the one in control, not him. He was at her mercy, even if it was just a charade he had put up to entertain her and offer her what she craved.

His hands were on her curvy hips, caressing the soft flesh before gripping it tightly. Celia felt her skin burn beneath his touch. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was in his element.

Celia wasn’t.

She couldn’t keep herself calm. Her body was betraying her yet again. Her breaths were erratic and her body had grown hot, a thin sheet of sweat covering her forehead.

Celia kept her eyes at the man who kept on torturing her mind and her senses, almost as if fearing that he would disappear if she let him out of her sight even for one measly second.

His actions were testing her patience and she had never been known for being patient, quite the opposite, to be honest.

“Are you planning on tormenting me for long?” She inquired, her voice a few octaves lower than usual, letting him know just how affected she was by his merest touch.

Ax lifted his head and gazed deep into her hazel eyes. One of his hands grasped one of her palms and brought it to his lips, while keeping the eye contact intact. It was just a light brush against pale knuckles, the polar opposite of his bloody ones, and it was enough for her to let out a surprised gasp. What was he doing to her?

“I plan on savouring you,” He muttered as he abandoned her hand. He moved his body even closer to her, resting his mouth on her thigh. “Worshiping you.” Her breathing had turned even more erratic as she felt her heart frantically try to escape from her body. Why did he have to say such things?

It was the feeling of his rough, calloused hands rubbing soft circles on her skin that ignited her. At that moment she was nothing but a canvas waiting to be painted with colours the human eye was not able to detect.

“You know what I’m mad about?” Ax chose not to give her a chance to reply, not even a chance to think about a reply. “Seeing that fucker all over you, even when I didn’t know what the fuck he had done. I really fucking hated that.” He hooked his fingers on her underwear, the pads of his fingers loving the feeling of the soft lace and pulled it down her thighs harshly.

His angular face was directly in front of her core.

So close, in fact, that she almost begged.


She would have but he didn’t give her a chance. He stood up slowly, supporting his weight on his feet, his hands never stopping touching her. Celia took a step backward, her legs colliding with the bed. All it took was one gentle push and she was lying down, the air knocked out of her lungs.

“You were jealous.” Stating the obvious would get her nowhere but she wanted to hear him utter the words.

“I was.” He admitted. Ax crawled on top of her, a flick of uncertainty in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Celia wanted to speak the words, she really did but they did not want to leave her mouth. They would make her appear vulnerable. Instead of replying verbally, she nodded her head.

Ax didn’t waste another second. He removed his leather belt from his trousers, his movements graceful and composed the polar opposite of Celia, whose hands were trembling just at the thought that she got to touch him.

God, he actually is that fucking special. She muttered to herself, and to think that the first time Rachel had mentioned him she had been one step from snapping at her for being so damn infatuated. Now, she knew his effect.

Celia had found herself in the middle of the King-sized bed, looking like a sacrifice to a pagan God, a God with eyes darker than depths of an ocean. Eyes that could put the waters of the Mediterranean to shame. Ax was sitting next to her now, his pants looser around his hips now that the belt was in no position to support them. He gathered both her arms with one of his hands, his fingers closing in on her fragile scarred wrists.

Yet another impending question.

He moved with quick yet efficient movements, trapping her arms above her head and letting them rest on the headboard of the bed before using the belt to tie them together. She knew it was rather idiotic of her to stare at him with her pretty eyes glazed but there was nothing else she could do. There was nothing to say, she trusted him.

Ax smiled in satisfaction as he admired his handiwork, giving the bond a tug to make sure it would hold and receiving a gasp as a reward. He let his eyes travel all over her body and her flushed face, feeling a wave of gratification at the fact that he was the only one who got to see the little spitfire in such a vulnerable state.

She was all his.

“I am not the kind of man who takes kindly to others touching what is his, as you should have learned by now.” The low growl of his voice offered no comfort, in fact, it had the opposite effect. His words increased her need to touch him, to feel the sweat on his bronzed skin. But she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Her hands were tied, quite literally.

“I get really angry when that happens.” He whispered against her ear, causing wetness to form between her rounded hips. “And I want to do bad things. Real bad things.” Celia moaned as his teeth sank in the lobe of her ear.

“What’s stopping you?” She managed to mutter in question.

He smiled at her, keeping her eyes captive. “Nothing.” He was sick. “Nothing at all.” So very sick. “Now stay still for me, or I’ll have to tie your legs too, little dove.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, baby. It’s a fucking promise.” And just to prove his point he gave her a hard look, daring her to move before letting his rough hands trail a path all over her soft warm body.

He settled on her collarbones, placing his lips at the junction where they met. He knew her body and its responses, he knew her weaknesses and took advantage of them. He knew how sensitive the skin on the base of her neck was and took advantage of it, marking her with his lips, loving the sound of her breath hitching.


“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?” She hissed threateningly but to Ax she appeared as threatening as a kitten throwing a temper tantrum.

He chuckled, the vibrations sending shock waves through her veins. How could one man be so fucking intoxicating? “Of course I do. It’s the way we work, we torture each other.” And it was the most logical thing in the whole wide world. For them, at least. It’s the passion was always supposed to be, destructive and beautifully painful.

People seemed to love restricting passion in a cage and forgetting it, letting it wither away. Some hoping that it would be enough for them to buy their ticket to some kind of heavenly afterlife. Some fearing that it could destroy them if they weren’t careful. And some because they were too ignorant to identify it and embrace it for what it was.

Ax was not religious nor did he fear destruction and he was not ignorant.

His hands dipped a bit lower, falling on her heaving breasts, playing with the soft, smooth skin. Celia groaned as she felt him kneading them and tugged at the bond that kept her from touching him in frustration.

His mouth soon followed.

Ax used the same treatment on the rest of her aching body, torturing her with lips and hands, showing her who truly had the power.

The moment his lips started laying soft butterfly kisses on the inner parts of her thighs, he stopped playing with her further. He looked up only to see her shaking her head and muttering curses. Meanwhile, her hips tilted upwards to meet his mouth but he pushed them back on the bed. “Didn’t I say something about your legs?” He inquired and laid another kiss on her hot skin.

“I hate you.” She lied through her teeth, hissing the words at him, cursing him for being so cruel and not give her what she craved.

“If hate tastes so sweet, I’ll be happy to drown in it.” He smiled at her knowingly. “Keep hating me, little dove. Please.” There was vulnerability hiding behind his teasing words but both of them chose not to acknowledge it, chose to focus on the moment. “I love how responsive you are.” It was a caress on her naked body. Word after word aroused her even further, burned her like Hell’s most painful inferno. “I adore how well we fit together.”

He had gotten exactly what he had wished for, she was immobile. Was it his movements or his words that had made her freeze in utter agony, afraid that it would all be taken away from her the very second she accepted it? Celia wasn’t sure but she was afraid.

She had never wanted to create an emotional bond with him, never wanted to play his game because from the moment she first saw him, she knew she would lose, even if she hadn’t dared to admit it to herself.

And she had lost.

He had become necessary.

He was so fucking close to her cunt but chose not to act on his impulses. He wasn’t only torturing her, apparently, he was also torturing himself. “Who do you belong to, little dove?”

It appeared they were aching in the same way.

They were the same.

He lay a teasing kiss on her clit, enjoying the feeling of her writhing underneath him, loving the sound of the headboard banging against the wall as she relentlessly tugged at her restrains.

“You.” She replied, her voice hoarse. “I belong to you.” Ax hummed a praise and moved his body away from her. Celia whimpered at the loss, thinking it was another game of his but, thankfully, all Ax did was remove the rest of his clothing, giving a sigh of relief as he freed himself, before moving on top of her once more, careful not to crash her with his weight.

“Damn right you do.” A shudder ran through his body as he finally decided to put an end to their misery. He thrust deep inside of her, not letting her adjust to his length, wanting to hear her whimper as she reached the line that separated pain from pleasure. God, he was sick.

Sick and intoxicated.

She was better than any drug he had ever tasted.

The finest of whiskeys couldn’t compare to her.

He was feverish, his movements fast yet calculated as he continued to thrust.

I love you. Admitting defeat had never been so beautiful.

Ax Goddamit, I love you.

“That’s right , only me little dove. Only me.” He groaned.

Ax gifted her with a groan. He moaned. He cursed. He groaned some more and it was so goddamn beautiful Celia couldn’t look away. He kept his pace steady, not allowing his more animalistic nature to prevail. He wanted to give her nice and slow for once, let her leave without any visible marks.

Little did he know, she adored those marks.

The tension kept on building inside her as he grew ever so impatient but never acting on the impulse to drive into her as hard as she deserved. He was painfully hard and his method offered little to no comfort. Celia was the same way, she kept shaking her heart from left to right, feeling her body on the edge of ecstasy but never falling to meet that heavenly doom.

“Ax, I’m close.” She whimpered the words, raising her hips to meet his thrusts. The soreness of her tied hands had not even registered in her brain as she continued to tug them, wishing she could free herself and sink her nails on his skin. “Please, Goddamit, faster.” He paid her no mind.

Celia was going insane. The belt would surely leave her with some distinctive bruises but she didn’t mind that. “I need it.” Apparently, she hadn’t begged enough for him. “Ax, I need you.” She rephrased, his pounding getting a tad more aggressive. “The rough you, the real you. Fuck me.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get, little dove,” He bit her neck. “Your wish is my command.”

Fuck, yes. His eyes shone in the darkness, intensity rolling off of him in waves.

Celia’s heart was hammering inside her chest.

He groaned as he drove inside her harder and harder. “Fuck, Celia.” He groaned, louder this time. “Fucking hell, baby.” He was wild, completely out of control.

“I’m so fucking close.” Tremors had started running through her body and it was the sweetest anguish he could have offered her.

“Then come.” He growled. His thrusts had grown more impatient, his body calling his release closer. Subconsciously, his hand gripped her throat and the image alone was enough for him to come undone. The small gasps that left her as she grew accustomed to his grip were driving him insane.

He was so fucking sick.

Her screams echoed through the darkness of the room and it was music to his ears.

His own, custom-made Moonlight Sonata.

Their personal carnal symphony.

A masterpiece of Lust.

Celia had just started catching her breath when Ax sat up, tugging the knot off while keeping her close to his body. He played with the black tresses, as if they had the magical power to relieve him from the stress he had been feeling for days. His fingers kept on stroking her long hair for what seemed like an eternity before he stopped.

She raised her head and gazed at his profile and even though most of his features were concealed by the darkness that dominated the room, Celia felt herself shiver. He always appeared threatening, even at those moments when he wasn’t fully visible. The ravenous predator was, without a second guess, at his natural habitat. “You deserve to learn a few things about me.” He told her, his facial expression completely serious.

“I should start at the beginning.” He told himself, Celia was quite certain he hadn’t meant to speak those words out loud. “I’m not good at this so just bear with me.” One clumsily lit cigarette later Ax had gotten control of himself. “When I was about fifteen I had a fallout with my father. It wasn’t anything serious, I don’t even think I can remember the reason we fought but then it had seemed really important to me, I guess."

"The first thing I did was leave my house. I told my best friend that I had nowhere to go and he offered me his couch. He had been reluctant now that I think about it and he had every right to be but I didn’t know it back then.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the smoke in his lungs, letting it to rest there. “I was persistent.” He explained with a smile.

Still am, he thought.

“The problem was his father. He was the leader of the town’s motorcycle club and he found an opportunity to reach out to me. He told me all about the biker life, he made promises of a lifestyle my fifteen year old self found incredibly tempting and like the idiot I was I got caught up in his Spider’s Web.” Celia etched closer to him, subconsciously.

“When I was eighteen I became a prospect for the club. My father and I had solved our differences by that time but I wanted to belong somewhere. I needed that, being a part of something, I craved it. Eros had just left the house and there was a void inside me, you see. And for a while everything was great, I earned my cut doing things I’m not proud of, women fell at my feet. I had everything I could have asked for.” His head fell backwards, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t exactly remember when I started doing drugs, I had found some weed Eros had hidden once but I don’t remember if that was the first taste I had gotten.”

“You know how it goes, right? It starts from one cigarette and escalates to the point where you wake up and the first thing you seek is drugs. At least for me it was like that, other people might be different.” He mumbled as he reached for her hand, dragging it on his bare chest, letting it rest on top of his heart.

Celia didn’t know if she should offer him any words of comfort. She knew from personal experience that he would probably glare at her and his lips would tilt into a mocking smile as he replied with a dry ‘thanks’. She cringed at the image.

“I sold drugs for the M.C., Hell, I did a lot of things for the M.C.” He admitted, taking another dutiful drag from his cigarette. “One night, almost six years ago, something happened. Something bad, I don’t remember it clearly, thank fuck, but I remember enough. There was this kid, a prospect, I hadn’t paid any mind to him but that night he had my full attention, you want to know why?” Celia nodded and her lips even formed a yes but eventually she realised that it had been a rhetorical question.

“That night I saw that kid getting butchered to death, by Bruce, the Prez. It looked almost ritualistic, I can’t explain it well, there had been this sick feeling in my gut the whole time, even before anything happened. The first time the knife pierced his skin, I almost vomited but an older member, his nickname was Killer, quite ridiculous if you ask me, told me to keep it together if I didn’t want to be the next one. Eventually, my best friend was able to drag me away. We both were sick to our stomachs.” He commented, his voice growing detached, it felt like he was telling somebody else’s story. At least he was calm enough, not to reveal the name of his friend. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be subjected to another interrogation that would most likely to her being angry at him again.

“What had the kid done?” Celia inquired, unable to stop herself.

“He ratted us out to the cops or, at least, Bruce claimed he had.” He replied before resuming with his tale of horrors. "Now that I think about it, he just wanted to show how much power he had."

“Some hours later I was in custody, with my father and his lawyer sitting right next to me. They knew I had been involved in illegal activities and since I had beaten that cop up they couldn’t exactly send me on my way with a pat in the back and a promise that I wouldn’t do it anymore.” His blue eyes closed and he moved his head from side to side, trying to stop the images from resurfacing. He had been so vague with Celia, not wanting her to know what he had truly been responsible of but he couldn’t hide things from his own self. “To keep this short, Bruce threw me under the bus and even tried to put the murder he had committed on me, thankfully, there wasn’t any evidence and my friend told them we had been together. I was surprised they let it go that easily, but now that I think about it, they must have known the truth. They had to know Bruce had done it.”

Words were simply not enough to describe the avalanche of emotions that hit both of them at that moment.

“So, you spent five years in jail.” She said, finishing the story for him.

“So, I spent five years in jail.” He repeated and bowed his head, kissing her neck. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her and to hide her from the world.

Correction, hide her from his world.

“It’s alright, little dove. It will all be over soon.” He informed her cryptically while caressing her cheek with the pad of his index finger.

“What do you mean?”

“My friend and I are going to bring down Bruce. It’s all settled.” A sharp piercing feeling consumed her being in seconds. He seemed so determined she knew there was nothing she could do to convince him not to act accordingly to his urges. She knew that to be true, after all, she had grown up with a man like that. “I’ll tell you more when I have more information, if you’d like.” She nodded, his words not ever registering in her brain.

Celia was terrified for him. Almost as if he knew it he kissed the top of her head and murmured. “I won’t get hurt, I promise.” She believed him. She believed that he had some power over fate, simply because she needed to believe him.

People gave their Gods the same kind of blind faith every day, why shouldn’t she do the same?

However, it had been so foolish of her to believe that.

So very foolish.

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