Maw of Mayhem MC 4
A Maw of Mayhem Shifter MC Romance
Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense
Date Published: August 30, 2024
Publisher: Changeling Press
Voted in as prez and back at the clubhouse, Grimdarke James has won back the Maw of Mayhem MC, but his problems are far from over, and his migraine isn’t helping. Neither is the arrival of a rival MC, a wolf pack, or the crime lord en route.
And Reaper’s still on the loose.
Grim definitely can’t seem to catch a break, and neither can Kit. Now that she’s been officially introduced to the club as Grim’s ol’ lady, it’s up to her to get a handle on the mollys. Will she be able to keep them in line and prove she’s the rightful queen of Mayhem, or will someone else try to usurp her throne?
Excerpt
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 AK Nevermore
Grim’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
He slapped it silent and groaned, pulling a pillow over his throbbing head. Jesus fuck, how was it light out already? Whatever, he didn’t give a shit. Whoever was calling him could fuck off. At his side, Kit murmured, nestling closer. Her bent leg skated up the back of his thigh and hooked over his hip.
Mmm. He rolled to face her, and she snuggled against his chest with a sigh of contentment. Damn, she smelled good. He inhaled, drawing her scent into his lungs. Something about it eased his head. Woman just made him feel better all around. His fingers idled through her hair, down her back to cup her juicy ass, morning wood going rigid as it brushed against her slick core.
“You dreamin’ about me, baby?” he murmured, still groggy, running the length of his cock along her slit and notching himself at her entrance.
“Maybe.” Her hands skimmed up his chest to lace around his neck. She tipped her hips, and Grim nudged into her, groaning as he sank home. Fuck, she was tight. Kit gave a soft cry, her nails rasping over his shoulders. “Maybe not.”
His eyes flew open; a spike of jealousy shooting through him. He pinned her beneath him, growling, a hand rising to stroke her throat. “That right? You wanna clue me in to who the fuck you’re thinkin’ about while I’m dick deep inside your pussy?”
She shrugged, not intimidated in the least and so sinfully fucking sexy…
-- brat -- Darke muttered.
She is. Grim bared his teeth in anticipation. “You want that ass spanked, Kitten?” He twined his fingers with hers, raising her arms up over her head, slowly pistoning his hips between her spread thighs. “‘Cause sass like that? You’re just asking to be punished.”
“Am I?” Her lips parted at the snap of his hips, lust darkening her gaze. The scent of her heat thickened the air. Christ, the mating pheromones she was putting off were so ripe he could taste citrus and cinnamon.
“You are.” He growled again, some deep, primal need waking. The urge to sate it, to fill her with his seed and make her his, thrummed through his being. He teased her lips, nipping at them. “You gonna be this sassy when my baby’s in your belly?”
She bit back a smile. “Probably?”
Grim chuckled. Goddamn, he fucking loved --
A series of texts pinged on his phone. He shot a glare in its direction. Deuce? The fuck did he want? Kit’s mouth traced Grim’s jugular, nipping and diverting his attention. Mmm. His lips claimed hers, her scent Manna on his tongue, sheathing himself in the hot velvet of her cunt over and over again.
She panted, arching up, and he latched onto her breast, sucking its pebbled tip into his mouth. Christ, she was fucking perfect. He drove his cock into her wet heat, bottoming out and dragging back against that spot deep inside her. “Oh God, Grim! Please, I can’t…” She gasped, cried out. Her eyelids fluttered, core convulsing, demanding…
He thrust into her again, tingle zinging the length of his spine, balls drawing up, cock impossibly hard, spurting, emptying himself to fill her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning, pressing deep. “Goddamn, that’s it. Fucking take it --”
BAM BAM BAM
He lifted his head. The hell?
BAM BAM. “Grim!”
Deuce was at the door. Shit, didn’t he just try to call?
“Sec!” Grim yelled over his shoulder, then turned back to look down at Kit. She watched him with hooded eyes, her lips bee-stung and a sheen of sweat glossing her skin. Goddamn, she was fucking beautiful. He trailed his knuckles down her throat, just wanting to --
BAM BAM BAM. “Dude! Seriously, we got problems.”
When didn’t they? Grim sighed, all that banging racketing through his temples. He gave Kit a quick kiss. “Don’t fucking move. I’m not done with you.”
About the Author
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks. Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time. AK pays the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
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