Page 21 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Fidgeting with the hem of my t-shirt, I bark a short, dry laugh. “Ha. Right. I can’t ask him anything. The man barely looks at me. He definitely won’t speak to me.”

“Ask a camera.”

I frown. “Why would I do that?”

“Who do you think watches all the camera feeds?”

“Necro does?” I guess, based on how he’s talking.

Rot snaps his fingers. “Bingo, Red. Every day we fuck in my bedroom, he’s watchin’.” Walking over to the darkest corner of his office, Rot points to something with a glowing red light. I can’t see what it is, but I can guess.

“So, there’s one in here, too,” I comment for no real reason other than for it to sink in that Necro observes my every move. That means all those conversations in the privacy of Rot’s bedroom weren’t so private. Same for the hate sex with Coffin in the basement. Cooking with Mama. Everything.

“They’re everywhere. The only people with a direct line to all the feeds are me and Necro, and Mama if he wants to see ‘em, which he don’t.”

“Is there one in my bedroom?” I ask .

“Yes.”

Figures.

“He watches us have sex?” I check because, apparently, I’m a nitwit who needs further clarification.

“Every day.”

“But why?” I chew my bottom lip.

Rot shrugs as if he doesn’t have an explanation beyond the obvious. “That’s what he does. He watches.”

To prove a point, a smug grin transforms Rot’s too-handsome face as he saunters over to his squeaky desk chair, shucks his pants down to his ankles, exposing his thick, ready-to-play shaft, and sits down.

He waves me forward. “Come here, Good girl, and ride my dick for our prez. Show him how much you like it.”

Equal parts excitement and anxiety war inside my chest and swirl around in my belly like a tidepool as I do as I’m told.

Slowly removing Necro’s shirt, I rest it on the edge of Rot’s desk, turn around, push up onto my tiptoes to meet his height, grab the base of his cock, and sit on it.

The glide is glorious. Eyes rolling into the back of my skull, lips parted, I moan all the way down.

It feels so damn good to have him inside me, and even better knowing Necro might be watching. Voyeurism is hot.

Fingers threaded behind his head, relaxing like he has all the time in the world, Rot lets me set the pace.

My tits bounce as I grind on his cock, and when I moan, I moan for them both.

“That’s it, Good girl. Show him how much you want him,” Rot grits.

“Rot.”

“Go on. Make me come. ”

“Rot,” I rasp, squeezing around his shaft.

“Tell me.”

“I want your cum.” I want him to fill me and… eat it.

“What else do you want, Red?”

“Necro.”

“What do you want from him? Say it.”

“I wanna suck his cock.”

“Yeah? You wish he were here, fillin’ your mouth?”

I nod repeatedly, loving that idea, wanting him to join us. “Yes. Please. Yes.”

“How bad do you want it?”

“Please. I want… I want to suck his piercings.” All of them.

“Prez. Did you hear our girl? She needs your cock. Come fill her mouth. She needs you.”

“Please,” I beg, drunk on the prospect of feeling him for the first time in my mouth, in my hands. Those metal bumps. The precum. His scent. Taste. “Please,” I whine, hoping he’s watching.

Riding Rot, my pleasure drags on until my thighs burn, and my arousal drips down his shaft, coating his balls. Leaning forward, I grind on him, reach between his parted thighs, and fondle his heavy sac.

Rot gathers my mess of loose curls and wraps them around his fist. “Fuck, Red.”

“I’ve got you.”

“Christ. You’re perfect.”

The phone on Rot’s desk buzzes like a vibrator with an incoming call, and I hold my breath to see how he plans to handle this.

“Dammit. I gotta take it.” Sliding us closer, Rot grabs his cell before it falls on the floor, presses a button, and holds it to his ear. “What’s up?”

There’s a long pause as Rot listens to whoever is on the line.

“Fuck. Okay. This early?” He taps my hip.

I read the signal like he wants me to get up.

That’s obviously the wrong idea when he grabs my hair and forces me to sit right back down on his dick.

I grunt and take him to the hilt. He scoots us forward with me still impaled and reaches around my front to play with my clit while he chats with whoever’s on the phone.

“Yep. I hear ya, brother.”—pause— “No. I’m with my old lady.”

His what?

I still, but some hot biker with deft fingers rubs my clit like a magician. My legs tremble, and I clench my teeth together to keep from moaning.

How is he so good at this?

“Oh. Necro didn’t tell ya, huh? Figures. Hey. Give me a minute.”

Rot pulls the phone from his ear and sets it face down on my thigh. The cold screen forces goosebumps to sprout to the surface and me to shiver.

Dropping my hair to wrap his arm around my middle, Rot scoots us on his creaky wheels closer to the red dot in the corner. “Hey, asshole, stop watchin’ me fuck our lady and call Gunz. He has news,” he speaks to the camera, then picks up the phone, says a few words, and ends the call.

“Sorry about that.” Sweeping my hair over my other shoulder, Rot exposes my neck and kisses me just below my ear, soft and sweet.

Lingering. Something odd flip-flops in my middle that I’ve never felt before.

So I don’t overanalyze it or let whatever it is ruin the mood, I massage his balls again, and his kiss turns into a sharp nip at my neck.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and just like that, our world fades back into hot, hedonistic fun. Just the way I like it. Just the way it should be.