Claimed By The Biker King

Jarek’s hand slides over my ass like a challenge, slow and deliberate, like he wants me to feel exactly where he thinks I belong. I don’t hesitate. My palm cracks across his face—sharp, loud, final. “Careful,” he says quietly, fingers digging into my hip instead of letting go. “You keep hitting men like that, someone’s going to hit back.” I tilt my chin up. “Try it.” ⸻ My parents owed Luke Jones money. I paid the debt with my body, my name, and a marriage I never agreed to. On paper, Luke is my husband. President of the Vipers MC. Untouchable. Behind closed doors, he’s a man who can’t keep an erection and punishes me for it—with fists, words, and silence. The only man that ever gave a shit a bout me was my brother, Steve. Luke’s best friend. His VP. Now Steve is dead. And Luke has finally stopped pretending. He moves Steve’s old lady into the clubhouse. Watches her. Wants her. Just like he always has. I secretly divorce him, disappear to the next town over. And I walk straight into the territory of a rival MC. Its president, Jarek Solen, notices me immediately. He’s dangerous. Controlled. Watching. The kind of man who doesn’t beg, doesn’t threaten—and doesn’t take no lightly. I refuse him anyway. Instead, I prospect his club. Earn my place the hard way. I don’t want another man. But Jarek Solen doesn’t see me as broken goods or borrowed property. He sees me as his. And when Luke realizes his wife is gone and his control is slipping—Jarek won’t hand me back. He’ll start a war. Because the Biker King doesn’t steal women. He claims what chooses him.