Ronin Read online

  “Ronin” Lost Valkyries MC #2

  By Esther E. Schmidt

  Copyright © 2017 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Ronin is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.

  This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  Cover design by:

  Esther E. Schmidt

  Editor:

  Virginia Tesi Carey

  Photographer:

  Male Models Netherlands

  Cover Model:

  Dennis van den Berg

  Dedication:

  This one goes out to my readers. I hope you love Ronin as much as I enjoyed writing his story. Huge thanks to my editor, Virginia Tesi Carey. She’s been such a great person to work with. Special thanks to my amazing Beta readers, your input means the world to me. Finally, thanks to my bestie, Christi. ‘You are my person. You will always be my person’.

  Table of contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  ***Ronin***

  A quick glance around the room shows me I have everything under control. Three dead guys are sprawled across the floor. “Mission accomplished,” I hum in contentment and wipe my blade clean on the corpse in front of me.

  It only took me, what? I check my watch. Nice, only two and a half minutes to slice a few necks. I didn’t expect three guys, though. The order clearly stated ‘Room 314, two guys are waiting to get paid so they expect someone to come up to their hotel room to bring their money’. Fuck it. I don’t need more details than that, room number is correct, two guys who fit the description I got are dead, the plus one is collateral damage. As I stated…mission accomplished.

  There’s some stumbling followed by a “fucking asshole,” muttered by a female voice sliding through the air.

  Holy shit. How the fuck did I miss checking if the bathroom is secure? Spinning around, I watch how a redhead literally tumbles out of the bathroom. She pushes herself off the floor as best as she can because her hands and feet are bound with zip ties. The chick struggles to pull down her very short, tight, fire engine red skirt.

  A hard thing to do because that thing is painted on her hips, and damn…this chick has some perfect curves. Picture perfect, well at least from my point of view…she’s bent over, showing off her amazing rack, hopping on those bound feet with her red hair in a short bob bouncing around her face.

  “I am so gonna kill.”

  “Kill who, Fire Bunny?” I question.

  There’s a high-pitched yelp before she jumps right at me, two tied fists trying to hit my nose. Good thing she’s tiny as fuck and with one twist, I’ve got her lush ass pressing against my cock while one of my hands is locked around her wrist, the fingers from my other one are in a tight grip around her neck.

  She keeps struggling until my lips are right next to her ear. “Don’t. Unless you want to end up on that pile over there.”

  I feel her head turn before her body freezes in my grip.

  That’s right, take a good fucking look who you’re dealing with...I’m a killer. “So let me ask again...Kill who, Fire Bunny?”

  The woman tries to give me a head-butt. What the actual fuck? I tighten my hold on her but the tiny devil is fighting like hell and slips out of my grip with all her worming around. With her legs bound at her feet, she tumbles forward and smacks straight into a wall, out cold on the floor the next instant.

  My head tips back and I bark out my laughter. I can’t fucking help it, this Fire Bunny is damn hilarious. I wonder who she is and how she ended up bound in this guy’s hotel room. By the way she was cursing and bound, she sure as fuck wasn’t here of her own free will.

  I can’t just leave her here, she’s seen me. The most logical thing would be to add her to the pile of bodies. I might be a killer but something about her makes me want to protect her instead of end her. And I have to admit, she did put up a good fight.

  Choice made. I sling her over my shoulder and grab the bottle of lighter fluid I took with me. I squirt enough over the bodies, light a match and throw it down, before I get the fuck out of here.

  I feel like an idiot staring at my bike while holding on to a lifeless body. How the fuck can I bring this one with me? An idea comes to mind and I make her sag in my arms. Stepping into the open space of her legs, I hoist her up and turn her onto my back, throwing her arms over my head while shoving one of my arms through too so she doesn’t strangle me if she wakes up. I step onto my bike and grab the handlebars. The chick, who’s still out cold, is hanging in place. Let’s hope she stays that way.

  The whole ride over to the clubhouse is smooth sailing with the chick still in place. I park right next to a row of bikes and step off. I sling her arms off me and let her slide down to the ground. Makes it easier for me to step out from between her legs.

  She still doesn’t fucking move and this puts me somewhat on edge. I don’t know why, because shit would be easier if the witness in question was dead. Because I seriously don’t need a chick who can pinpoint me being at the scene of a murder. Make that a triple murder scene.

  Yet there’s something about her that makes me want her. Not just breathing, but fucking want, need; as in full blown lust. Could be because I’m staring at her lying on the ground, feet bound, legs fallen open. No. Damn. Underwear. Sweet as fuck looking cunt taunting me in full glory.

  “You brought a new sex kitten to play with?” I recognize Romeo’s voice from behind me.

  I swoop the woman off the ground. “Fuck off, Romeo. Go find your own, this one is for me to play with.”

  “So...how about two hours from now? I could jerk off while you’re playing to kill some time, and then I could have your seconds. I don’t mind, it’s a redhead. They’re always worth the ride. Shit, she’s got a great ass, those tits, yum.” Romeo’s got a big grin on his face while he stares at the woman I’m holding.

  That is until his gaze slides up and meets mine. Bad choice of words, fucker. I admit, we share cunts that want to bounce on a cock, any cock for that matter. But this one right here? Mine. I have no clue who she is or what she was doing there when she literally stumbled into the job I was doing, but her ass is mine now.

  Romeo seems to catch my drift and doesn’t utter one single word. He nods and steps back, holding the door to the clubhouse open so I can step inside.

  I walk a straight line to my room. Once inside, I place the woman on the couch. Not that I have another option due to the fact that the U-shaped couch swallows the whole space, it’s the only damn thing in the room. Facing one big ass TV. That’s all a guy like me needs.

  For real, I don’t have a bed or whatever. I’ve got a bathroom with a closet where I keep my clothes and shit. I come in here for some peace and quiet. Movie time, or some shuteye I can get on my nice, large as fuck couch. I grab my knife and cut off her restraints. That’s when I see her eyes flutter and she starts to groan and move slightly.

  “Easy now,” I warn her, the knife still in my hand. I hold both my hands up, palms facing her. “You’re still breathing.”

  “For now,” she mutters and touches her face.

  The corner of my mouth twitches when she winces. She
’s got one hell of a shiner from running into that wall earlier.

  “Sure, make fun of the fat redhead. Kill me now, will ya?” She tries to roll her eyes but fails because I can tell she’s hurting.

  “If you don’t want your ass to be on fire, I would keep your damn mouth shut, fucking bad-mouthing yourself like that,” I tell her through gritted teeth.

  “Trying to boost my self-confidence by threatening to torture me? Wow. Or do you follow some kind of protocol? Torture before killing…why didn’t I think of that?” She narrows her eyes and continues her rant. “You mind handing me the knife so I can decorate your chest with it? Because I think you need an opening to give all the goodness in your heart a better chance to get out, seeing you have a hard time making it come out the correct way.”

  Fuck. I’m a breath away from handing it over because she’s got a silk voice that tugs my cock with every word. Not to mention there’s no damn fear in her eyes. And let me tell you, with three large scars running down the left side of my face, I’m not a pretty motherfucker girls gape at in awe.

  Well, maybe if I let my long dark hair down so one side is covered. That’s why I always have it tied back so the first look they give me is always fear mingled with horror and disgust. Every cunt turns away and never looks me straight in the eye. This one, though? She faces me head on as if she’s good with the fact that every breath could be her last one.

  “Mind bending over so my cock can decorate your ass? Because for fucking sure it would look much nicer knocking down your back door, filling you up, than to be kept zipped up in my pants.” I raise an eyebrow as I wait for her response.

  Damn entertaining.

  It’s like a damn poker game because she raises two eyebrows in return, before she says, “You have a weird fascination with my ass.”

  I bark out my laughter but it’s cut short because she lunges for my hand that’s holding the knife. Damn feisty cunt.

  My fingers wrap around her neck and she gasps for her next breath. That’s fucking right, I’m not playing a game here. In one swing I’ve got my knife lodged into the wall in front of me. I make her turn, her knees dig into the couch while I bury my fist in her hair.

  Tilting her head up, I let her know, “See that? I have no problem shoving it inside you. The pile of bodies back in the room where we first met should also be a reminder. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with me? You’re the one warning me not to bad-mouth myself and telling me you want to fuck my ass. But you’re asking what’s wrong with me?” She fucking snorts.

  Wrong choice of words, cunt, wrong fucking words.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ***Anouk***

  “You’re gonna regret being a smartass. I’m not one to fuck with,” he growls, his breath hot against my skin.

  “Oh no,” I gasp and lay on the fake fear mighty thick in my voice before I turn it into nonchalance. “Lemme guess…when you didn’t kill me in that room we were in earlier…and with me having my ass up in the air, locked in this pose you put me in…I am one to fuck with. Right?”

  I’m bent over the couch, his fist is in my hair and his mouth next to my ear. He’s breathing hard. His knee is in-between my legs while his chest is plastered over my back. I shouldn’t have let my mouth run like that, but I can’t help myself. It’s a flaw. My thoughts tumble out when I’m nervous, panicked or…hell, I don’t need an excuse in this moment in time, because my mouth is allowed to be an open road for my brain to run over. Because, why not? Every second could be my last, right?

  “Shouldn’t we get acquainted first?” I ask. “Exchange names before we exchange fluids? I’m Anouk by the way, can’t say it’s nice to meet you and all.” Ugh, shit, see? I need superglue to shut my mouth and keep it that way.

  I am not able to keep a moan from slipping out. Great, I’ve really lost my mind now. But the way he’s pressing his pelvis against me? His unmistaken hard-on that feels massive and locked between us...shit. I should be scared and not want him to keep rocking, rubbing, anything to keep this friction going.

  I’ve never had sex. Yes, I’m still a virgin because the first boy I had the hots for snorted right in my face when he and his friends confronted me in college. Told me straight up I was born to roll around in the mud instead of rolling around in the hay with a boy. ‘No one likes a fat pig’ said one of his friends. The others all laughed and oinked in agreement. That’s still a solid echo in my memories. Nice, huh? I never had a catwalk figure. Hips, legs, boobs...you might say I wasn’t in the supermodel lane when they were passing them out.

  His hand tightens some more, the way he’s got a grip on my hair makes me gasp and my body shivers. My pussy clenches as if its screaming for attention. And is that wetness I feel trickling down my legs? What the hell is he doing to me? I have never experienced my body reacting to anyone like this.

  The fingers of his other hand trail up my thigh and underneath my skirt, until he slides through my folds. “Ah, fuck. Feel that?” One finger enters me slowly. “No need for introductions, this cunt knows exactly who I am…the one who’s going to accept the sweet invitation of all this heated wetness. Talk about a warm welcome,” he groans. “Damn, you’re tight. But you’re ready for me, huh?” He keeps fingering me slowly. “Shit…I want you.”

  I arch my back due to the intensity of his finger. His touch consumes me, making everything around me fall away. Not a single worry, I’m surrounded with pleasure. It’s like he owns my body, flipping a few switches here and there that light me up. My breasts feel heavy and my nipples tighten, yet…my pussy somehow feels empty. All of these emotions, feelings, desires, are something I’ve never experienced.

  Is that the sound of a zipper? I can’t think because I feel something hot and thick nudging at my entrance. I let my head drop, burying my mouth into the cushion of the couch.

  “Damn tight,” he says through his teeth. “So fucking good…what the....aw, fuck,” he growls right before the air leaves my body as I scream in pain.

  The hand he was using to grip my hair is now gently stroking my head. He’s completely still, covering me, his mouth right next to my ear. “Sssshhhhh. Breathe, sweetness. Breathe.”

  He places a kiss on my jaw and guides my head before he takes my mouth in a tender kiss, completely throwing me off guard.

  Except he stops way too soon, making me groan in protest. “Don’t stop.” I try to think of what to say next, but I have no damn clue what his name is.

  “Ronin.” He chuckles, and gently slides out of me before he pushes back in.

  “Ooooh.” Taking a gulp of air, I hold it due to the intense feeling.

  He glides back and forth with precision. It’s as if he feels my body is ready for him to take. And it is. I can’t believe I waited this long to have sex. I mean, yeah...I know it wasn’t like I had lots of options or let myself open up to anyone...yet somehow I now know for damn sure it would be a whole lot different than this moment right here.

  “Ronin. Say it,” he growls in my ear before his body leaves my back and I’m being grabbed by my hips. “Damn fine ass. This right here.”

  A hard smack lands on my right ass cheek. “This ass is mine, and the cunt that goes with it too. I broke it, so I own it.” Another hard smack.

  How can a flash of pain light up in a blast of desire?

  “Say it,” another growl.

  Fingers wrap around my neck, lifting me up, plastering my back to his front while his hips are still locked in a fast rhythm.

  “Say it,” he repeats again.

  What the hell does he want me to say? I can’t manage anything except being consumed by him. By...

  “Ronin.” He grunts. “My name tumbling from one set of lips while my cock is sliding between your other set. Deep inside your cunt that’s gonna be flooded with my cum. So. Fucking. Good.”

  He lets me place my hands down so I can brace myself on the couch. He pounds inside, chasing...chasing, what? Tingles start to
build low in my belly. Oh God. His fingers circle around my clit and I scream the first, and only thing, that consumes my mind and body. “Ronin!”

  “That’s it. Ah, fuck yeeeeaaaahhh.” His bellow is silenced when he bites down on my neck. I feel hot streams jetting inside me.

  My heart is racing and my pussy is still pulsing, throbbing. Or is it his dick that’s still jerking inside me? It doesn’t matter, I need for it to last forever. With the life that lead me to this point? I want to forget my past and live in the future. A future where Ronin will be doing this to my body on repeat quite frequently. Unimaginable, but one can dream, right?

  “That,” I pant, “was…”

  A phone rings.

  Ronin digs around in his pocket and answers the phone. “What?” he snaps.

  I hear some rumbling that I can’t make out before Ronin says, “Interesting. Why? Wait, hold that thought.” He lowers the phone and steps back so his dick slides out of me and he smacks my ass. “Shower is on the left. Go.”

  I’m being dismissed? Talk about being ripped from a dream and being plunged into a cold and dark abyss. The reality surges back, he’s a killer who took me with him. Although he was sweet, tender, and yet so very dominating a moment ago; that’s all insignificant now. I jerk away from him and give the asshole a glare.

  The corner of his mouth tips up. “Careful, Fire Bunny. I had one taste and there isn’t any going back for either one of us.”

  I flip him off with both hands before I stalk in the direction of the bathroom while the whole room fills with his laughter. Asshole.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ***Ronin***

  I’ve never had this kind of interaction with a woman; easy, heated, playful; a connection on a whole other level. I watch how that lush ass sways back and forth. Damn mesmerizing. Then she turns slightly, her full tits that sway with each step. They have a mind of their own and are in no way like those perky tits I’ve seen on the cunts I’ve fucked in my life.