I close my eyes for a minute against the sight of them, five boys dripping ink and hiding behind what’s very quickly become a symbol of our gang: the grinning maw of a boney face.

When I open my eyes, they’re all still staring at me.

“Jesus H. Christ,” I murmur, and Hael’s harsh laugh makes me shiver.

“Jesus can’t save you now, baby,” he purrs as I turn over, swinging my hair over one shoulder so that it hangs down beside my face. I’m staring down at the sheets and panting when I feel the mattress dip with somebody else’s movement.

It’s Victor. I know that before he even touches me. And it’s not just that musky smell of his, it’s something else. An aura. A sensation. A ripple in the universe that only I can feel. That’s how it is with soul mates, you know—even miscreants, knaves, and savages. That is, the Havoc Boys in a nutshell.

“Next time I tell you what to do,” Victor says, and I hear the sound of his belt sliding from his jeans. “You’ll do it, won’t you?” The leather slithers across my ass as he folds it in half and then grips the metal end. Vic cracks the belt against my bottom, and I gasp, my nails digging into the mattress. It stings like hell. Shit, it almost hurts. But then … Victor’s warm hand smooths over my aching skin and that gasp of pain becomes a whimper of pleasure.

There are rules, even in a family. One of them is, you disobey Victor and you’re punished for it. Guess my price is pride, and really, that’s a small price to pay.

At least now I know for sure: hiring Havoc was the only way I could ever be whole. Because I’m in love in a strange and endless sort of way. That, and I was never capable of hurting the people that hurt me. Not by myself.

See, I told you, tonight was all about punishment.

Tonight … is not the same as the last time he spanked me. Last time, he was warning me. Actually, he was being nice. “I'm preparing you. It's a service I don't offer most of my clients. Be grateful, Bernadette.” That’s what Victor told me when we were sitting in his front yard, right before I kissed him to seal the deal.

A kiss.

Hah.

And now we’ve come to this, yet another moment that he did his best to prepare me for.

The belt makes contact with my ass again, and I drop my upper body into the pillows, biting down on one to keep at least some of my dignity intact. It’s not supposed to feel so good, is it? I told Aaron that I only liked it when he spanked me, but … maybe that was a lie?

Vic’s fingers dig into the hair at the back of my skull and he pulls my head up, forcing me to remain on my hands and knees.

“Take it like a queen, Bernie,” he growls, and then he hits me with the belt for a third time. Victor releases my hair, but I stay where I am, anticipating the next sharp crack of leather on bare flesh, the sting that follows, and the warm pleasure that radiates out from each spot Vic chooses to rest his inked fingers. He caresses my ass after each smack, like he can’t help but be my boss and my husband at the same time.

He takes his sweet time as my body throbs in response to the belt, to his nearness, to the orgasm I just got done having with the vibrator. My blood is hot and lazy and slow, laced with marijuana, and it makes everything feel amazing.

“One for each member of Havoc,” Vic explains as I look back and find them all exactly where I left them, watching me from behind their masks. Victor spanks me again, and I adjust myself, like I think he’s done. One spanking for each letter in the acronym. Only … there’s still one person that’s owed their pound of flesh, and that’s me.

Yep, the very last spanking is in honor of me.

Victor whips the belt forward, and I scream as it hits me, but not out of pain.

None of this is painful.

Vic tosses the belt aside as I let out a low, sensual laugh.

“What are you planning on doing now?” I ask, and my husband pauses, tapping his fingers against both of my hip bones.

“That all depends on you, I suppose,” he tells me in that dreadfully calm voice of his, the one that could—no, already does—command literal armies. That other gang … the GMP … they wouldn’t be looking into Havoc if there wasn’t something to Victor’s leadership. “You wanted five men, and you’ve been given them.”

I say nothing, and Vic’s hands tighten on my hips, making me groan.

“Do it,” I whisper, voice breathy and stretched-thin, like I might very well shatter if they leave me here. “Fuck me.”

Victor pauses for a moment, and then I hear the sound of his jeans being unzipped. When he presses the head of his cock against me, my body shudders involuntarily.

I think about Scarlett Force then, that race car driver from a few years back, the one with the three boyfriends. She was caught once, having an orgy in the girls’ locker room with them.

This isn’t the locker room, but …

Victor thrusts fully into me with a single stroke, grabbing onto my hair for leverage. With the other hand, he holds my hip, keeping us pressed together for a moment so I can feel every inch of him like I’m being branded by the shape of his cock.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grinds out, a bit of that easy control slipping. I seem to have that effect on him. “I give you a simple goddamn order and you try to get yourself killed.”

“Must be in my blood,” I purr, glancing back at him. “Or maybe that’s why I hired you? To save me from myself?”

“Must be,” Vic bites, and then he starts to move, pulling on my hair and causing my back to arch. I put one hand up against the headboard as he rides me, the bed creaking ever so slightly with our movements. He’s brutal about it, too, filling me up completely before drawing back. When he pushes forward, I can feel him hit the end of me, and I bite my lip.

My body is practically liquid now, heated and desperate, wanting.

Vic fucks me as hard and fast as he damn well pleases, knowing that an orgasm is practically inevitable with four more Havoc Boys waiting at the end of the bed. Either that, or he just doesn’t care because he’s mad at me and wants me to suffer.

I notice that he’s careful to keep his hand away from my bandage though, and that he doesn’t put any weight on my body. He’s as aware of that wound in my side as he is of my body wrapped around his.

Fucked by my dark gods, claimed by their inked hands, my soul destroyed.

Even in the throes of ecstasy, I start making up poems in my head. That’s how much a part of me writing is, and I didn’t even know it. I didn’t fucking know it until now. With a groan, I squeeze my hands into fists, pushing my hips back into Victor.

He comes with a few violent thrusts, spilling himself into me and then pulling away abruptly. I’m left panting on my hands and knees as he drapes his body into the stupid pillow mountain, eyes like black coals in the dark. He doesn’t even bother taking off his mask.

“Hael,” Victor says with a snap of his fingers. The look Vic gives me, barely visible in what little light the TV gives off, is still harsh, as if he didn’t just have an orgasm inside of me.

“You really pissed me off, Blackbird,” Hael says, the warmth of his hands making me shiver as he slides them from my hips to the curve of my waist. “Running off into the woods like that.”