Page 12 of Nun’s Prayer

“Who’d the cunt touch?” her sister asked.

“Looks like Cass.”

“At least it ain’t Blue. The bitch will remain alive. Let’s watch Nun dish out her lesson.”

I watched as the individual called Nun shoved a woman onto her ass. She stood in front of a man who towered over her, but she didn’t seem bothered by that.

Damn, while most of the Royal Harlots I’d seen were attractive, this one blew me out of the water. She had long brunette hair with a hint of red that fell to just past her tits, which were a nice handful. Her face was rounded, with plump lips and a cute, petite nose. Freckles scattered across it. Her dark brown eyes and prominent cheekbones added to her attractiveness. She wasn’t classically beautiful like Sapphire, but she was stunning in a girl-next-door way. Any man would want Nun's attention.

She wore heels and knee-high stockings, leading to toned thighs topped with a short, pleated leather skirt. A bustier finished it off with a string of pearls disappearing into her chest. She shouldn’t have pulled the look off, but she easily did. A cruel smile played on her dark red lips, which only helped my cock stand up and pay attention.

“Who said you could touch him?” she snarled. The noise lowered dramatically.

“What?” the woman on the floor exclaimed, staggering to her feet.

“Am I blind, or does his cut say Property of Royal Harlot’s MC?” Nun demanded, looking around.

“Nope, it definitely does,” a sister called out. I checked her name. Lantern.

“Can you read?” Nun barked.

“What the fuck is your problem?” the victim—who didn’t yet know it—snapped.

“See, if it says Property of the Royal Harlots MC, then that means he belongs to us. Now I fuckin’ attend a lot of meetings, but I don’t remember voting you in!” Nun snarled.

“Everyone’s aware they sleep with any woman that demands it!”

I shook my head in despair. She’d just buried herself.

“Nun, look, she didn’t know, okay. We’ll leave,” a second female said, stepping forward.

Nun turned and looked at her. “You assume you know me well enough to talk to me like that? Who the fuck are you? Should I let this disrespect go? Clearly this bitch believes the club should roll over and allow disrespect. Obviously, anyone who touches our property should be given a pass.”

“No! No, she didn’t mean that. She didn’t understand the rules,” the friend kept babbling.

“It says Property of Royal Harlots! What’s to fuckin’ misunderstand?” Nun yelled.

“You really kicking off over a whore? That’s all he is, right? Sleeps with you for money?”

Oh, that did it! I saw the murderous expression cross Nun’s face, and I smirked. Nun didn’t bitch-slap; her fist shot out, and she punched her straight in the nose. Without hesitation, Nun began dishing out a beating that made most of the crowd wince. When she stepped back, Nun was barely breathing heavily.

“Let this be a lesson. If someone works for us, if they wear a property cut, they belong to us. They are ours to protect. The men here wear property cuts, and they aren’t for common use, like some of you think. They’re not around for you to touch up and proposition; they’re to be treated with respect. You can’t do that, then we’ll beat the shit out of you until you learn. Nobody messes with what belongs to the Harlots,” Nun warned.

“Cass, throw the trash out,” the Veep, Sparrow, ordered. “Anyone else got a problem? No? Then turn the fuckin’ music up; it’s a party.”

Cass picked up the woman and carried her out. Her friend followed behind, looking terrified. She had to pass by Nun, who stood staring daggers at her. She ducked her head and rushed out, and Nun smiled.

Jesus, my cock was hard enough to pound nails. I dared not move, because it would be so obvious. I immediately thought of Brielle, God forgive me, and my dick deflated.

“Why does watching Nun beat the crap out of someone make me wet?” a woman asked. I glanced at her name patch. Dagger—an enforcer.

“Because you’re a dirty bitch,” a sister called Maid said.

“True,” Dagger agreed. “I’m going to find Piston; I need to rub one out.”

Maid laughed and waved Dagger off. “Have fun.”

I moved away and ducked down a corridor. Nobody was down here, and sticking to the shadows, I searched for cameras. Just because I didn’t see a camera didn’t mean there wasn’t one, so I stayed cautious as I checked doors. In my attire, I blended in with the other men present. Jeans and a dark tee. They were plain, like ninety per cent of the guys’ attending, clothing. I’d be hard to pick out.