Blood (Kings If Sin MC #1) Read Online Ker Dukey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Kings If Sin MC Series by Ker Dukey
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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We pass a game room and movie room before entering the main entertainment space. A full working bar extends along the entire back wall where there are brothers occupying every barstool. Why would they go to the bar in town when they have this here? A curvy brunette bends and twirls around a stripper pole, lust-filled eyes watching her every move. Soft rock music pulses through the room, bringing it to life.

The giggling trio have made their way here, all three doting over an older-looking man. “That’s Daddy.” Kitty snorts, knocking her shoulder into mine. My eyes flare wide, making her chuckle. “Those wenches have issues, and he feeds off them.” She shrugs. “Not my kink, but to each their own,” she adds, waving me over to the bar.

Two beers appear in front of her without her even having to order. She hands me one then rests her elbows on the bar, perusing the room.

“You looking for your man?” I ask, hating the trepidation I feel waiting for her answer.

“I don’t have a man.” She bristles, the very idea appearing to rattle her.

“Oh, sorry. I thought the guy at the bar…”

“What guy?” She moves closer, her face hardening with panic.

“The dark-haired guy you were talking to.” I shake my head.

“Callan?” she blurts. Her features iron out as she takes a relieved breath. “That’s my brother.” Chugging half her beer, she adds, “That’s not my kink either, FYI.” Then beams like a wicked deviant.

Brother? I won’t analyze the relief I feel at hearing that.

“What is your kink?” I tip my beer to my lips as two shot glasses are filled in front of us. The liquid rushes to my empty stomach, reminding me I need to eat. I wonder if Diamond would whip me up one of her chili dogs.

Kitty drags her gaze up the body of a brother standing close by—the same one who was watching her at the bar and talking to Callan outside—and licks her lips. He has loose, long blond hair to his shoulders, which makes him appear younger than I believe he is. His stunning blue eyes survey the room, on guard.

“I haven’t worked that out yet.” Sighing, she turns to me. “What about you?”

I blow out a breath, scrunching my nose. I haven’t been with anyone but Tyler, and he’s a lazy lover. “I wouldn’t call it a kink, but I prefer a rough hand,” I tell her honestly. She bellows a hearty laugh before rolling her eyes at someone over my shoulder.

“How rough?” The deep timber of his voice blankets me, sliding into my core and sprinkling goosebumps over my flesh. I don’t need to see his face to know who’s standing beside me. My pussy throbs as his body heat licks over me.

The proximity is so intrusive. So delicious. Keeping my voice steady, despite my nerves making my stomach twist, I turn to face him. “Enough to leave a mark.” I shouldn’t be flirting, but the alcohol is doing the thinking for me, aiding my confidence.

Keeping my features blank, I lower my eyes down his body, unrushed and outright lustful. He’s so much taller than I thought he’d be. His size dwarfs mine, and fuck if that’s not a turn on. I want to lose myself beneath him.

“Is that so?” He pauses, deliberately leaving me waiting and observing every inch of my reactions like a beast taunting his meal. And like an obedient puppy waiting for a treat, I absorb everything he has to offer. Pathetic.

“My bite would definitely leave a mark.” Every word he says is drawn out, setting my womb on fire. My nipples pebble, rubbing against the fabric of my shirt.

Closing the tiny gap between us, I inhale his scent. Liquor and sin, a hint of rain, undertones of spice. No one should smell this good.

I shouldn’t be enticing a man like him, but there’s energy in my veins for the first time in weeks, and I can’t stop myself from asking, “Where would you like that bite to be?” It’s a purr, a challenge, a sultry, wistful moan.

His large palm wraps around my throat, sending my pulse skyrocketing against the pads of his fingers. My panties flood, and there’s an ache so intense that it steals the air from my lungs. I hate it. I love it.

Leaning over me to force my back against the rim of the bar, he whispers, “Everywhere.”

My heart pounds in every inch of my body. Sparks lick at my skin. Then his hand is gone and he strolls away like it never happened. My body hums in his wake like he just hate-fucked me against the bar.

Tracking his departure, I will myself to regain composure. I won’t allow myself to forget who he is and what he represents. Liar.

Refocusing myself, I down the shot of tequila in front of me. I can’t forget why I’m here, especially not for a pretty face and the sexual promise it holds.


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