BAD Biker Bear

All Rights Reserved ©

Hands off my property

Just as I expected, there was an ocean of bikes parked out front in the parking lot. A couple of prospects stood guard. No one got in who didn't belong here: those were the rules.

Our dress code was simple: shit-kicking biker boots, jeans, and leathers. For women, it was anything worthy of easy access. The only females here were the ones who served beer or fucked for cash.

“You remember what we talked about, right?” I whispered beside Gia's ear.

Some of the guys were stalking around outside, anxious to see what we’d found. I was expected to go on in, turn out my pockets and hand over whatever I’d discovered.

Tough shit because I don’t like to share what’s mine!

“Yeah, I don’t know shit,” Gia confirmed.

I nodded, rubbing the tops of her arms, trying to ease her whilst I spoke in a hushed, gruff whisper.

“That’s right, babe. You just stay right beside me. Let me do all the talking, alright?” I tried to alleviate the tension, although, I wasn’t feeling all that confident myself.

Ace and Blade went in first, allowing me a chance to hang back and square some things with my woman. I had to make sure she got her story straight before we went face-to-face with Alpha Jax. I flicked the safety catch off my gun, getting ready to use it if necessary.

I held Gia around the waist as we walked in through the clubhouse door. We were greeted by a few of the pass around whores who propositioned me for sex the second I entered the room.

I cringed, disgusted that any other day I normally would have dragged one off, dropped my jeans, then tossed over a roll of notes. But things had changed now. I was no longer a free agent. I had a woman to care for now. The only place I was gonna put my dick was inside Gia, nowhere else.

I noticed Gia’s eyes dart from left to right, taking a good look around at her surroundings. I could fully appreciate that it wasn’t exactly a five-star establishment. We were in a rough as fuck neighborhood. We fit right in, dead center of it. It looked exactly how it was: a run-down, abandoned warehouse from the outside, while the inside was nothing more than a health and hygiene hazard.

We bikers weren’t renowned for our housekeeping skills. The floor was coated with sawdust. It helped to soak up all the blood and bodily fluids that spilled during all the bust-ups and fights that took place. If you wanted a clean glass, then tough. You were in the wrong place for hospitality. It was much safer to drink from the bottle.

It was a typical shitty dive bar atmosphere inside. A real motorcycle gang clubhouse: furnished with shitty looking mismatched tables, chairs salvaged from off a dumpster. It had a run-down bar that stocked cheap, shitty beer and even shittier spirits. In the corner, there was a fucked-up pool table, and over by the battered sofas, there were about a dozen club whores who were spreading their legs for the boys. The noises that were coming from them were more like shrieks of pain, rather than sounds of pleasure. When we’re turned on, bears tend to rut women hard. It was only our old ladies we cherished with reverence. Not the paid whores.

Alpha Jax was waiting for me over by the bar. He had a face like thunder and a mood to match. I kept my hand on my gun, purely for precautions. My girl's day was either gonna improve from here on in or it was about to get a whole lot worse.

“Alpha,” I acknowledged Jax the second our eyes met.

“Beast, you wanna explain to me what these boys are saying?” He asked in a ′I’m not fucking around here′ tone.

The brothers were all watching. Every single one of those mean sons of bitches had their eyes on my woman.

I'm the first one to admit that I'm no saint. I was as bad as they come and then some. I wasn’t any white knight either. I don’t ride a God damned horse, I ride a Harley. But Gia, she was my property now and if any of those fuckers felt like challenging me for her then they'd die today.

There were more than one of these assholes who wanted to take what was mine: my position as second in command, as well as my woman. I could see it in their ruthless, greedy eyes.

She ain’t gonna do much better than me right here. Each one of the boys dealt in guns, drugs, dirty money, and bare-knuckle fights. We drink, we fight, we fuck, and we make money. That’s what she’s signed up for. Although, she didn’t have time to read the small print.

“She’s mine,” I said with confidence. My gruff voice came out as a warning growl.

“You mate claiming this one, Beast? She agrees to that?” Jax asked, skeptically.

I scanned the room, looking into each pair of accusing eyes. “Yeah, I’m mate claiming her. Anyone who wants to challenge me is welcome. Although, it’s your funeral,” I warned.

“That won’t be necessary,” Jax muttered, waving a hand in front of him. “You agree to this, honey?” He asked Gia outright.

I let out a breath that I was storing inside. He wasn’t gonna bust into me about Gia like I thought he would. I figured that meant he trusted my judgment. I didn’t see that one coming. I got a weird feeling about this like there was a catch somewhere. I took my hand off my gun, relaxing my posture.

Gia squeezed my arm. “Yes, I agree. I want to be Kian’s mate,” she mumbled, timidly.

I winced at the sound of my birth name being spoken out loud in the clubhouse. It wasn’t something I felt comfortable with. Not within earshot of the guys. Jax shot Gia a shit-eating grin.

“Kian, huh? Well, looks like you found your woman. You better take her home, get her all cleaned up and make your claim permanent,” he boomed with amusement.

I gave him a single nod, returning the smirk he gave me. The fucker knew how much I hated my name. He just had to go rub that in, didn’t he? I swear, if he ever tells her that my middle name is Abraham, I’m just gonna have to challenge the asshole for the Alpha title, best pal or not.

His deep chuckle filled the room as we headed for the door. “Hey, Kian,” he called after me with a hint of sarcasm.

I stopped by the door, turning around and cocking him a ′What the fuck do you want now′ eyebrow.

“Gonna need you back here, tomorrow. I’ve got a feeling she was s’posed to be for Claw. Shit’ll go down, once he finds her gone. He’s gonna come for her, you know that, right?” Jax spoke, his tone more serious as he delivered a forewarning.

I guessed that was why he wasn’t busting my balls over her because she was being used as bait.

Well, that figures.

“I’m counting on it,” I replied, darkly.

.

.

.

“You live here?” Gia asked, casually.

“Yeah, it’s not much but it’s home. I know the owners pretty well, and they let me live here cheap,” I replied, giving a casual shrug.

She drank in the view of my humble abode. I had lived in the apartment above the tattoo shop, ever since I was orphaned at sixteen. Courtesy of having a deadbeat dad who never stuck around and a heroin addict for a mother.

"Do you have any family?" She asked, curiously.

I was waiting for that. I figured that honesty was the best policy, so I decided to tell her the harsh truth.

"My parents died when I was sixteen. They were mates but they fought a lot. Dad drank himself into oblivion and Mom lived to get high. Half the time, they hardly ever noticed me. I learned to take care of myself as well as my parents. My next-door neighbor, a kind old lady called Mrs. Bennett used to keep me fed. I loved her like a grandma but she died straight after my parents did. Just before I came to live here, I was on my way home from school, having been picked to captain the Lacrosse team. Nobody had ever believed in me before, but the coach said saw something in me and told me that I had a real shot at a sports scholarship." My eyes flicked to hers, mirroring the sadness I still harbored within.

"And then what?" She asked, her brows dimpling in the middle.

I perched on the arm of my sofa, then continued. "I ran all the way home, my heart bursting with pride, desperate to tell Mom my good news, you know? To a kid like me, that was a pretty big deal. It meant that I had a real shot at college without having to rely on making money in the cage."

I felt my heart twist with shame, admitting that we were dirt poor, but she had to know. Even if it changed her opinion of me. "I didn't want to earn my way by breaking the law, illegal fights and all that shit. I wanted my future to be earned the honest way, you know?" My voice trailed off and my gaze dropped to the ground.

"Good for you, Kian." Gia gave a saddened smile as if she could already tell that things didn't exactly work out well in the end.

My shoulders dropped as I got to the worst part. The one subject, I'd always refused to talk about.

"When my key struggled to turn in the lock, I knew Mom had rammed her key in on the other side. So, after bitching and moaning about it, I climbed the back fence, then peered in through the living room window. I saw Mom sprawled out on the sofa and figured she was in her usual comatose state."

Gia stepped towards me, crouching before me. "Hey, it's OK if you don't want to talk about it," she soothed, her own anguish glistening in her eyes. "I know what it's like to have it tough growing up."

I cleared my vision with my forefinger and thumb. "No, I want to." I decided, knowing that she was the only person I felt I could tell. She nodded, giving me all the assurance I needed.

"I punched my fist straight through the back door, splintering the wood. I knew Dad would probably rip me a new one when he saw it but there was no waking Mom in that state. The house could've burned down around her and she still would've been none the wiser." I managed a strained breathy chuckle.

"What I saw next, I'll never forget." I swallowed hard, needing to maintain a steady voice. "The sight of her sprawled over the sofa, still in the same nightdress she'd worn for a week. The heroin needle that she used to inject herself with, was hanging limp, still stuck in her vein. She must've been dead for hours. Her skin was as pale as paper."

Gia placed a hand to cover her mouth, muffling a sob. "Oh my God, Kian. That's terrible."

She gripped my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I gazed long and hard at the vision of perfection crouched before me, feeling my heart swell with love.

How could someone so beautiful, hold so much compassion for a beast like me?

"There was a distant sadness in her eyes, you know? It remained there, even after she was long gone. I pulled out the needle and threw it in temper, my eyes burning with angry tears. She was a shitty mom but she was my shitty mom, if that makes any sense."

Gia quickly wiped away a single tear that spilled from her eye. I hated that she felt sorry for me. The last thing I wanted from her was to show me pity. But my story only got worse, not better.

"Yeah well, there's more," I told her, now unable to meet her anguished gaze. "She had a folded piece of paper clutched in her hand. I had to pull it from her fingers in order to read it. It was a hand-delivered letter from the council of elders. Similar to an army telegram, telling her that Dad had been shot dead by hunters. He was a ranger up here in the Creek. He'd been out on patrol one evening, staggering around blind drunk and took his eye off the game. It was a real shame too. The guy was a pretty good bare-knuckle fighter in the underground club here in town. If he had stayed sober, he might've stood a chance."

There was a momentary pause where neither of us knew quite what to say. This was me, showing her my vulnerable side, giving her the chance to cut and run while she still had a chance.

"So then you came to live here," Gia spoke softly. "This is gonna sound like a stupid question but do you still miss them?"

My lips curled into a wistful smile. "At times. I guess their ending was poetic in a way. The fact that they couldn't stand to be in the same room as one another for too long and now they're buried together in the same plot in the cemetery. As a kid, I always wished my folks would get along. So, when they died, I made damn sure they were buried in the same casket. They spent years rotting their lives away, so I figured they might as well rot in a hole, side by side."

Gia bit her lip to suppress a smile, not wanting to seem disrespectful. I flashed a wicked grin, causing hers to win out and spread across her face.

"So, you've been alone all this time?" Even though her voice held a sympathetic note, I detected that she could somewhat relate to that.

"Not exactly alone. Jax's parents took me under their wing, so to speak. His pappa was the president back then, so I joined his crew. Jax's mom always laid an extra place at the table for me. Every night she would feed me and I'd get a taste of what it was like to be a part of a real family. The guys who owned the tattoo parlor downstairs, let me have this place for peanuts. Even now, I always throw a lot of work their way."

I held my arms out at my sides. "Look at me, I'm inked from the neck down. The guys from the clubhouse always tip generously whenever they call in. My whole life is right here in ink form." I gestured to myself.

Gia stood to her feet and rolled her shoulders. "Thank you for telling me, Kian." She cocked her head to the side in an observational pose. "Someday, I wanna tell you my story. But I think we should save that for another time."

I understood, not wanting to push her. "So, now you know the real me, what do you think?" I asked, waiting for the blow.

Gia rolled her eyes at me. "I don't think any less of you, Kian. Trust me, my story is just as grim." The pain in her voice felt like a knife to the gut.

"Did someone hurt you?" My words left my lips like jagged shards of glass.

I'd kill for her. Hell, I would willingly throw down my life for her.

She swatted the air. "Another time, alright?"

She turned around, taking in the sight of my bare living room: my beat-up black leather sofa, flat-screen TV, bike parts that were neither used nor ornament but I hoarded them anyway. My kitchen had everything you needed to survive, my bedroom consisted of a bed.

So what? I lived like a fucking Spartan. This was just a base, somewhere to eat, sleep and take a shit. What more did I need?

“So, this tells your story, huh?” Gia asked, while curiously eyeing up my body art.

“Ah, so that’s why you can’t take your eyes off my chest, huh? You're admiring my tats, you weren’t checking me out?” I played around with her, figuring I’d make her squirm a little.

I noticed how her cheeks glowed bright red and how she bit her lip all shy. She knew damn well how to push a guy's buttons.

“Maybe I'll put you over my knee, for starters, then tan your sweet little ass red to match your face,” I told her, playfully.

I shot her my killer smile, the one that got all the girls to drop their pantyhose. I felt my bear clawing on the inside, smelling her sweet, scent of arousal. The closer our proximity, the stronger it got. Fuck me, she seemed to like the idea.

“If you wanna clean up, the bathroom's through there, darling." I pointed to the door behind her. "You’ll find clean towels in the closet."

She spared a backward glance, then turned back to face me. "Thanks," she mumbled, sheepishly.

"You like Chinese take out?” I changed the subject before things got really out of hand. Or else she wouldn’t have made it past my couch.

“Yeah, sounds great, I’m starving," she replied, gratefully. “What do I wear, once I’ve showered?”

My sick, twisted thoughts had driven me to a place where clothing became obsolete. If I had my way, she'd stay naked.

“I’ll grab you something of mine, for now. Then I’ll arrange for one of the girls to bring you some clothes over. Tomorrow, you can shop till you drop.” I promised, noticing the sparkle of interest, that lit up her eyes.

"You're buying me new clothes?" She gasped in excitement.

"Yeah," I dragged out the word. "I can't have you walking around the clubhouse in your birthday suit in front of the guys." I shook away the crazy idea after mentally gouging out each set of eyes.

Gia clapped her hands, jubilantly. She looked so darn cute, too.

I'd never had anyone to spoil before: money wasn’t something I thought all that much about. Especially having grown up without a dime. You can't miss what you never had. I just knew I had accumulated a shit load of it and stashed it here, there and everywhere. She didn’t have to worry about a dime anymore. I would provide her with everything she needed. Soon as I heard the shower turn on, I pulled out my phone and rang Blade.

“Hey, man, you couldn’t do me a favor, could you? Could you ask Lauren to bring over some clothes for Gia? Thanks, man, I appreciate it," I finished, stuffing my phone back inside the pocket of my jeans.

After throwing on a t-shirt, I darted out through the front door to hunt for food. This was the twenty-first century. So, the Chinese takeaway at the corner of the street was the equivalent of bringing home a fresh kill. I was tempted to peek around the bathroom door to catch another glimpse of that ass, but I decided against the idea. I had to behave myself, which was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

The downside to having two fucked up parents who spent forever festering in their own hell pit was that sooner or later, you're gonna be faced with the devil himself. Mom always said I was the Devil incarnate. That I was spat straight out of the underworld, instead of from my momma's cooch.

So, that fateful day had finally come. The day I got to meet the woman who would be willing to spawn more little fuckers like me.

Good luck Bear Creek. It's been a pleasure and an honor.

.

.

.

Later that night, I watched Gia as she chowed down the food I brought home. With every mouthful, she was making grateful orgasmic sounds as if she hadn't ever tasted food this good.

I was starting to become more resentful towards the chicken chow mien. Hoping that I could coax similar sounds out of her later on.

Each time I fucked her, I was gonna keep her panties as a trophy. I didn’t care. I was a sick, dirty bastard, and I’d stroke myself senseless whilst they were wrapped around my dick.

She finished eating, flicking her gaze up at me and catching me staring at her like a man compelled. The sound of her clearing her throat knocked me straight out of my dirty-minded fantasy, wondering how good she'd feel if I took her from behind.

“So, what happens now?” She asked, all sweet and innocent.

I had to drag my mind from the gutter before I spoke.

“What would you like to happen, darling?” I asked, testing the water.

I'd left my balls trailing behind me, dragging along the gutter floor. The more innocent she looked, the heavier they got.

I knew what she wanted, even if she said she didn’t, I knew it was a lie. I could smell the musky scent of her arousal, sending my senses into a frenzy. Her needy pussy was dying to invite me over for dinner, where both my tongue and my cock would respond to the RSVP.

“I’m no one's property. I just wanna make that clear, right now. We're equal in this relationship or whatever the fuck it is that you call it. You may be all 'authority' in the biker gang but with me it's fifty-fifty, you hear?” Gia finished her terms and conditions speech as if she got a say in who’s boss.

My lips pulled to one side in a cocky smirk while I eyed her all the way up from the bottom to top, then back again. I was liking the feisty attitude she brought to the table: the little display of dominance, trying to lay down her own set of ground rules. That was a huge turn-on for me. My girl was a fucking spitfire and that only made me want her all the more.

But you see... she didn’t know what she wanted. She thought she did. It was down to me to show her exactly what she needed.

My actions were swift, stalking over to her, pulling her up from the sofa and moving her empty plate to the floor. The leather couch creaked under protest as I sank down into the seat. I hauled her straight across my lap, yanking up the shirt she was wearing, baring her sweet, perky ass.

"Kian, what the fuck!" She shrieked.

"Oh, you're asking for trouble now," I warned, noticing that she opted to go commando.

She had full access to whatever sweatpants, boxers, or whatever the hell she wanted. Instead, she chose to remain bare. The meaty globes of her ass were just beckoning to be spanked, just for teasing me like that.

She let out a startled gasp as my palm came crashing down hard, landing on her left ass cheek with a slap.

She shrieked, then squirmed as I rubbed away the sting.

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked her, then paused for a response.

“Huh?” She gasped, disorientated.

"Wrong answer," I told her, then repeated the action on the opposite side.

I brought my palm down on the right side this time. The sharp sound made a delicious slap noise. She whimpered as I rubbed the sting away again.

“Baby girl, I’ll ask again. Who’s in charge?” The vehement tone of my voice meant business.

She didn’t answer, she just kept giving me needy little moans with each slap to her ass. Her pussy was riding my knee like a pony with each jolt. Her excitement was flooding her sex with moisture, filling the air with the sweet scent of her nectar. She was the honey jar and I was the hungry bear. I growled my approval, wanting to dip my tongue inside for a taste. My baby was a greedy girl. She wanted more and more and I was more than willing to give it to her. So long as she knew who was boss.

“You want my fingers on your pussy, darling? You gotta' say the magic words. Now c’mon, baby, I'm losing patience here. Who’s in charge?” I asked with a shit-eating grin.

This was the best entertainment I have ever had in my entire life. Fuck the feeling of euphoria after a victory in the cage. Fuck the freedom of the open road with the wind running through my hair, along with the rumbling thrum of my bike. I wanted more of this.

I could see how her pussy trembled each time my palm made contact with her ass. I could've finger-fucked her hard right now, knowing she’d fall apart in seconds. There was no way in hell that I could ever be considered a gentleman. Even in the bastard handbook of bastards, chivalry was allowing a woman to cum first. Then, and only then, was it acceptable to race off towards the finishing line.

It was our first night together and she was my mate. I read it somewhere that girls appreciate a guy who doesn't try to fuck on the first date. It means something... to some people. Who knows? Maybe Gia was one of those people. So I'll fuck her tomorrow--no big deal.

“I can’t hear you... your mouth ain’t movin' but your pussy’s telling me differently,” I told her straight up how her body was betraying her.

“Y-you, Kian. Y-you’re in charge," she breathed out, all needy, grinding herself on my knee like the greedy girl she was.

I landed a few more sharp blasts to her ass, making her buck like crazy. She cried out with pleasure, getting real close to coming apart across my lap.

But she kept on calling me 'Kian' and I couldn’t let that go.

“What’s my name? You scream my name and I’ll fuck your tight little pussy," I growled, my voice coming out rough and harsh as my own restraint waned.

She was right there at breaking point and so was I. My balls ached inside my jeans as if they'd swelled to triple their size.

“Beast! Please, just do it, please!” She begged, needing a release.

A triumphant grin spread across my face. I'd give her what she wanted. I always kept my promises. I dragged my fingers across her soaked folds. Dipping deeper and deeper along her slit until I hit the jackpot. Her solid little pleasure button, pulsed with need. The pad of my fingers teased her swollen clit, circling it, drawing out rough breathy moans from her pretty little mouth.

I plunged one finger inside, feeling the soft, wet, warmth of her sex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, feeling her walls gripping hold of me tightly.

Then, I slid a second finger into her drenched channel before adding a third. Gia made the most orgasmic sound I could ever imagine possible and a fresh gush of warm juices coated my hand.

I have large hands. There ain’t nothing small about me. I’m one big, mean, scary-looking bastard and she took all three of my fingers, right up to the knuckles. I could imagine the burn feeling she was getting as I stretched her tight, little, pussy wide.

Thing is, I needed to stretch her first before my dick went anywhere near her. The moment I take her there, it’s gonna ruin it for any other man. Not that I’d ever let another man go anywhere near her. She’s mine, she belongs to me and I’m keeping her.

I continued to finger fuck her hard. Listening to the melodic chorus of moans, the 'Oh God, Kian... I mean, Beast' filling the air as she chanted her sweet, breathy music. Her pussy quivered and clamped down tight as she came with a scream. I grinned, hearing the tell-tale wet sound that played out on my fingers as I pounded her, letting her ride it all out.

She slumped across my lap all satisfied and contented. As she caught her breath, she craned her head around to take a look at me, just as I leaned back on the couch. That 'just been fucked, hard' look, played on her face in the form of a lazy smile.

I licked my fingers clean right in front of her, throwing her a wink.

Her eyes grew wide, knowing something was gonna happen next. I held her still and she gasped, too startled to move. My deep, rumbling laughter filled the room as she braced herself for what was about to happen.

“Mine,” I growled, possessively.

I made my claim to her permanent when I sunk my teeth into her left ass cheek. Left being the same side as her wedding finger. She shrieked with shock, her entire body tensed rigid as I broke the skin, then relaxed when I retracted my teeth.

Most shifters go for the neck, some have been known to mark their women on the tits. I liked ass. Especially the look of hers. It reminded me of a soft, juicy peach.

Now she knew exactly who was boss.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.