What I Needed

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Chapter 49 ~ Ownership

Jakobe’s P.O.V.

Pulling into the steel gates always felt like such relief. The way the women would run out to their men, leap on them and plant their lips on every inch of their bodies, you felt as if you were a hero coming back from war. Well, technically we were, they just never really knew what we were up too. Kitty jumped so forcefully on top of Leighton that he almost fell off his bike, I cracked up laughing and Deon growled about the fact she should have more restraint than that, she naturally, stuck the finger up at him gaining a laugh from the crowd. While I was gathering my stuff, I noticed Priya had not come out.

I looked over to her spot but her car was gone, where the fuck was she? Extracting my phone, I speed dialled number three, which was her number. Deon was number one position, Leighton number two and Mafia third, though it went straight to messenger. What the fuck? I walked inside and dropped my bag off in our room, now to find Aja.

She had not put Rex down since his arrival; I swear that kid was given more love these days than anyone else in the whole clubhouse, including the whores. She was burping him on her shoulder as I entered the kitchen.

“Hey Trig, how’d it go?”

“Everything is handled.” I leant up against the door frame with my arms folded across my front, I knew she’d understand what I meant by ‘handled’ she always knew more then she led on.

“Good, now hopefully, we can relax a little. How’d the Kid go?”

“He exercised his demons,” I knew she’d know what I meant by that too.

“Did he hesitate?” She looked me square in the eye.

“Not at all, didn’t even flinch with regret.”

“Shit, he is like his father.”

I chuckled, “hey, you seen Priya? Her phone goes straight to message bank.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her. Solid little thing, auburn hair, green eyes, yeah, she’s been around.”

“Oh yeah, what you two up too?”

“Me Trig?” She feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Aja went to walk past me; I shot my hand out blocking her path. “Now I definitely know you two or at least she is up to something.”

She threw her head back and laughed, “She’ll be back soon and that’s all I know.”

“I think you’re lying to me.”

She gave me a wide toothy grin as mischievousness sparkled in her eye. “Me Trigger? I would never do such a thing.” I dropped my arm, she knew something alright, I just hope it wasn’t fucken terrible.

Waiting for her to come back was excruciating. It had been a long run and I needed my woman but she was nowhere to be found. As the hours slipped by, I decided to jump into bed after my shower and crawled under the covers, whatever was keeping her busy? It better be bloody important.

I was sulking, badly. As I closed my eyes I could smell her perfume on my pillow and fell straight to sleep.

Stirring awake, I felt the bed dip and freezing cold fingers wrap around my torso and even colder toes dig into the backs of my knees. I jolt at the sudden shock.

“Jesus Priya, why are you so cold?” My lids snap open and I try to focus, it must be late as the room was light when I went to bed and now it was bathed in darkness.

“S… s… sorry,” she squeaked out.

I coughed, clearing my husky throat, “where the hell have you been?” I questioned, turning onto my right side to face her.

“I was organising a surprise.”

“What?” My left hand trailed up the inside of her thigh before cupping her core. My fingers fiddling enthusiastically with her fleshy folds, god knows, her pussy was my favourite place in the world.

“Oh, Jakobe,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“I missed you, Mafia.”

“I missed you… to caveman,” she panted heavily, relaxing under my ministrations and slightly rolling onto her back. “Fuck!” she suddenly howled, pushing my hand away roughly and near on jumped from the bed. “I can’t go on my back,” the words rushed from her mouth in a state of panic.

“Why? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I threw the covers off, leaping from my position and smacking my hand on the light switch. The room flooded with light, my eyes roaming her naked body, desperately looking for blood or any sign at all of her pain.

“No, no, Jakobe, relax…” She turned around slowly and that’s when I saw the middle of her back was wrapped in tape and glad wrap. She bent down to collect a paper bag from her purse and pulled out bapathum crème.

I carefully pulled away the wrapping and my mouth hit the floor. “Priya,” I gasped.

“Surprise… Do you like it?”

I stood there in awe; I couldn’t believe what she had done. I had left a bare spot over my left pec to tattoo the name of the woman I would make mine forever and here she had declared her’s so large and permanent. “It’s beautiful.”

In that very moment, I could have cried. She had The Road Warriors insignia, a leathered up skeleton riding a Harley with blue and green flames streaming off of it and underneath in calligraphy, tattoed the words, ‘Property of VP Trigger’.

“Jakobe?” She questioned, sounding unsure and nervous. “I can get it covered if you don’t…”

“What? NO!” I barked, “No fucken way, you done this for me?” I was still in shock.

“Aja said… when the boys take a woman, they place their mark on them. Leighton drew this up for me… I’m sorry, I didn’t think, you probably wanted to choose it.”

“Leighton drew this?”

“Yes,” her shoulders hunched as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

I spun her around and possessively claimed her lips, forcing my tongue into her mouth, taking ownership of my property, my woman, my Old Lady and my Mafia. She groaned and shivered as my hands skimmed across her sexy body, feverishly palming every bit of flesh I could grasp.

“Everything you do pleases me, turns me on…” I whispered against her reddening lips but then I pulled back and forced her to focus on my eyes. “I don’t think I could possibly love you more than I do at this moment.”

She smiled up at me, “you scared me.”

“You choose to wear my son’s artwork and my name on your body as your first tattoo? How could I possibly be this lucky?”

She chuckled, “probably the only one too, it hurt like hell.”

“Oh baby, you are everything to me.” I grasped her upper arm tightly and maneuvered her to the recliner, placing her hands on the arm of the chair. Her bent position and curved spine allowed her bum cheeks to part, so I had full view of her pussy and arsehole. A growl emanated from my chest, pleased immensely by the sight of her, not just with my ownership tattooed on the middle of her back and that it was drawn up by Leighton but also the fact that she accommodated my will without resistance.

I slid two fingers into her hole as she moaned on my intrusion into her body. Tapping her ankle gently, she moved her legs wider apart while I thrust into her repetitively, with my other hand on her hip to hold a steady pace. “Who do you belong to Priya?”

Her thighs quivered as I withdrew and entered again, the pads of my fingertips gliding along the sacred spot deep inside her saturated cunt. “Y… y… you,” her jaw chattered whilst I stroked her insides.

I bent down to my knees, extracting my fingers and sticking out my tongue to lap at her moistened folds. “Who?” I barked against her pussy lips.

“You, caveman, you,” her voice groaned out more clearly and defined.

“Again,” I gruffly ordered as my thumb circled the rim of her puckered back door.

“Oh god Jakobe,” she mewled, pushing back into my face.

I sucked her pink labia into my mouth then released them with a pop sound, “who do you belong to?”

“You, Jakobe, you.”

She shuddered, squeezing her butt cheeks together as her thighs trembled then tensed. A rush of her orgasm flooded my mouth as her scream filled the air. I stood up, wiping the remnants of her creamy honey on my bare shoulder, lined up the head of my weeping cock and slipped in. Her tight walls contracted around my manhood and I shivered under the pleasurable grip.

With my palms either side of her hips, I withdrew almost completely before slamming back into her, driving my dick as deeply as I could into her, watching her muscle ripple as my skin slapped against hers, the tattoo of ownership in full display of my delighted eyes.

Her back was curving on each thrust; I leaned forward and encased my hand in her dishevelled hair, fisting the silky strands tightly and gently pulled back as my hips pushed into her forcefully.

“Caveman… I’m… I’m… Oh god…”

“No, no, Mafia, you belong to me…” my thigh muscles tensing with each pump into her, “not god, me,” I growled almost animalistically.

“Fuck!” Her scream ripped from her throat just as her inner walls clamped down, choking my stiff beast causing him to swell and fill her warm cavern with my hot sticky juice.

My hips jutting sporadically as I blew my load, wave after wave of euphoric bliss claimed my body, ravishing every nerve ending below the surface of my skin, rippling through my bones and shattered mind. My head tilted back as the sweat droplets rolled down the sides of my face. With my eyes closed, I felt her slip off my still semi-erect cock while I remained stationary, panting heavily.

She pulled me by my hand, the movement causing my eyes to open as Priya guided me to the bed and covered me with blankets before slipping in behind me and attaching her now warm and soft flesh to the back of me. “I love you caveman,” she whispered.

“You too,” I grunted out, feeling my exhausted and calm mind slipping into darkness, followed by her amused chuckle.


Ovella, Mafia, Kitty, Eva and Aja sat at the table in the booze bunker, conversing in hushed whispers and then loud bursts of maniacal laughter. Deon, Brutus, Leighton and I had been watching them for days, gather together in a little huddle like this and Rex junior watched us happily from his bouncinette on the bar bench next to his father.

“What do you think they are up to?” Leighton queried, sipping on his coke.

“Planning our execution,” Brutus quipped, narrowing his blues in on his woman.

“Maybe it’s the bachelorette party plans?” Brocky spoke.

All of us jumped back, startled by ‘The Spy’ we didn’t even realise was in the room, let alone sitting right next to us. “Fuck me, Brocky… Shit, I mean Spy, when the fuck did you get there?”

He was sitting in the corner, leaning up against the wall. His feet outstretched and crossed in front of him resting atop the other stool, book in one hand, bourbon and coke in the other. His black eyes narrowing in on us, assessing us with greatly amused rapture and his eyebrow arched, “I was sitting here before either of you, dragged your whipped arses over.”

Collectively, we lifted our middle fingers in his direction as he burst into laughter causing the girl’s heads to turn and focus on us, scrutinising our man huddle with intense suspicion before turning back around and continuing on with their hushed whispers and sudden happy outbursts.

“Is that what you think they are really doing?” I asked The Spy.

He shrugged, “well, they sure as shit aren’t as concerned and paranoid as you lot. Jesus Christ, I joined a pack of Bikie Pansies,” he snickered before focusing back on his book.

“At least we get laid,” Deon threw back.

Without looking up The Spy replied, “Oh, I get laid, I just don’t touch crusty leftovers that all you mother fuckers have touched.”

Brutus looks at me with an incredulous look of his face, “you patch the cocky fucker in and then he gets mouthy.”

We all laugh at Brutus’ comment, “Speaking of party’s, tell me you arseholes have something epic planned and not just the strip club.” Their mortified faces said it all, “fuck really? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Isn’t that what every man wants? One last night of freedom?” Deon piped up.

“Probably, but I don’t want freedom and there is no one I want grinding against me unless it’s Mafia,” I growled.

“Jesus fuck, Trigger,” Deon spat, “what would you like? A fucken high tea with cucumber sandwiches?”

“I love cucumber sandwiches,” Leighton spoke absentmindedly, then realised his mistake. “I mean…”

“Save it, Kid, we’re going to let that one slide since you and my sister have a ‘no sex’ ban and it’s obviously turning you soft.” Deon teased, “Trig, what do you want?”

“Strip club is fine,” I rolled my eyes, “but I don’t want any of them touching me, you hear?”

They all nodded, Jesus Christ, the last thing I need is Princess Mafia going bat-shit crazy and shooting the stripper for giving me a lap dance.

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