Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 315

Doom POV

69%

BC

I had been worried that this might not be something Tracey should see. I understand Tempest needing closure, but Tracey, my sweet girl, doesn’t need to see it.

The cells hadn’t been cleaned in a while, the stench was strong, the cries from prisoners loud. Everything I had expected to see, hear and smell. I doubt these cells have been used in many years. I watched Tracey, but after the initial reaction to the smell, she stood tall, like the trooper she was, and followed Tempest from one door to another till we reached the one we had been waiting for.

I chuckled in my head at the sight. Dawson made a terrible–looking woman. I guess if he was only seen in the distance, he could be passed as a woman, but close up, no way, you would have to be blind, but it did fool our guys until Dawson dropped his pants, revealing the tattoo. Mind you, it was late afternoon, and the light was waning, but our guys were in the right place at the right time. If Dawson hadn’t come straight to them, they would never have thought anything of the man. They must have been shocked when Dawson approached their hiding spot. One guy could have reached out and touched that exposed butt. I would have loved to see that.

After a few choice words, when we first walked in.

Uncle Simon moved back to let Storm and Zero have a few hits. Storm chose to punch him in the

gut, Dawson giving a loud oomph, before Zero, wearing knuckle dusters, gave his jaw a crack.

Dawson was spitting out blood and a couple of teeth.

They asked questions and got the same manic answer.

“He felt like it.”

“Mr Dawson, Mabel is dead. Did you kill her?” Tempest asked her father, flatly.

“Mr Dawson, what am I, no longer your father? Where’s your respect, girl?” Dawson growled out,

which sounded more like a moan.

“You lost the title of being my father the day my mother died, and you took it out on me.” Tempest spat back, then straightened her shoulders.

Tempest turned to the men, all watching her.

“Can one of you cut off his d**k?” Tempest asked, and I was shocked by the request.

“I can do it,” Zero offered, picking out a nice, large knife. Lifted it and inspected it.

“No, don’t,” Dawson called out, the first real sign of fear.

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worried about whether he had time to pull them back up. Zero was fast and efficient, Dawson’s screams were ear piercing. Before he passed out, Zero placed the appendage on a tray.

“What would you like me to do with it?” Zero asked as he held the tray.

“No, very big, is it?” Tracey announced, causing the men to chuckle.

“No, he wasn’t; it was obvious that his appendage was not what attracted the ladies to him.” Tempest looked at the bloody tray and shrugged.

Uncle Simon threw some water at Dawson, waking him up.

Staring at Tempest and growling out through gritted teeth.

“Does Richard know you are doing this to me?” Dawson called out to Tempest.

“I am sure that Richard would have loved to be here today, and would have been the one to remove your d**k. Only Mia did you show any love? Although you know that kind of love, I am glad you never shared it with me.” Tempest was calm, not stressed out by all this blood and violence, where, although she didn’t complain, she had turned pale when the phallus was removed.

“Your mother would be ashamed of you if she could see you, you know.” Dawson kept trying to get

under Tempest’s skin, but she showed no emotion at all, as if she were watching a sick movie or

playing an actress in it.

“If your mother were alive, would you have turned the way you did? After she dies, you become a monster. Or were you just good and hiding that side of you? When Mum had gone, you no longer needed to hide it. That sick side of you came out.”

“Was there a point to what you were doing, Dawson?” I asked, still not happy with the lack of

“Wait!” Tempest turned to Dawson, calling out.

Reaching in, I turned on the hot water and made the adjustments to make the shower perfect for how I liked it, and wondered if it was too hot for Tracey; one way to find out. Tracey carefully stepped into the shower and hummed with pleasure, guessing the water wasn’t too hot.

because I was getting hard as I washed her.

I kissed Tracey long and deep on the lips, and using her good arm, she gripped my hair, pulling me closer, ensuring I didn’t stop. Not that I had any intention of stopping yet. As much as it hurt to move sometimes, I wasn’t going to let a little pain stop me from ravishing my woman.

‘My woman,‘

I never dreamed I would ever have one of those this fast. It was like one look, and I was hooked. Storm had said we would all, one day, find the one: your chemistry with the woman would come alive, and you wouldn’t have to work so hard to gain her attention, because she feels the same way. You lose all interest in anyone around you, and he was right. I am not interested in anyone else, now that I have tasted Tracey.

Tracey moaned against my lips, encouraging me to go further. I rested the hand of my worst arm on the shower wall, and the pain wasn’t too bad, nothing I couldn’t tolerate. The other hand snaked down her body and between her legs, finding the warmth, slipping a finger inside Tracey and moving it around, my thumb rubbing her tender nub, bringing it to harden.

“More, I need you inside of me,” Tracey murmured with urgency, grinding against my hand. I spun her around, and Tracey placed her good hand on the wall. I pushed her legs further apart with my foot, and lined my d**k to her warm entrance, and entered her with care.

“I won’t break, give it to me, big boy.” Her words spurred me on, and I found a rhythm that satisfied

us both. The sound of wet bodies slapping against each other, soft moans of pleasure, filled the bathroom. I felt the tell–tale signs that I was getting close.

Tracey yelled out my name, her channel squeezing against my d**k, helping me over the top, and soon screaming her name too, as I filled her. All too soon, I was sliding out of her.

“You stay and wash,” Tracey said, before slipping away from me and out of the shower.

I cleaned myself up, washed my hair and beard, and couldn’t get back to Tracey fast enough. She would need help getting dressed, and she will fight me on this because she doesn’t want to have to ask me to dress her; she’s stubborn and tries to do things she shouldn’t.

Guess we are the same that way, in that regard.

Both stubborn.

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