The drive from the alley took longer than it should have. My mind is tangled in the mess of that encounter with Amber. Her defiance, those wide eyes flashing fire even as fear flickered beneath.
I kill the ignition and sit there for a beat, gripping the wheel until my knuckles whiten. What the fuck was I thinking, offering help? Asking to drink together? Amber screams trouble, pure and simple. She’s a spark that could ignite everything I've built.
The elevator ride up is silent. The mirrored walls reflect my tense jaw and the shadows under my eyes, and I take a good look at myself for the first time all night. On the outside, I’m as put-together as ever, but a keen observer would be able to tell that I’m ruffled. Not quite myself.
The doors slide open to my floor, and I step into the expanse of the penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the dark water, the city lights twinkling like distant threats. Marble floors cool under my shoes as I shrug off my jacket and toss it over theleather couch. The air smells of leather and faint cigar smoke, a sanctuary I've carved out amid the chaos of my world.
But tonight, it doesn't soothe. Amber's face lingers, her chin tilted defiantly under my fingers. She’s half my age, a bad idea with a pretty face, and I shouldn’t let myself think she can ever be anything else to me. I’m more devoted to her than she’ll ever know, but I can’t let her see that. My protection is worth nothing if other people realize I care. If my enemies decide to hit me through her. Better thatherenemies never see me coming, and that she doesn’t either.
If only it wasn’t so fucking hard to think of anything else.
I head to the master suite, unbuttoning my shirt as I go. The fabric peels away from my skin, revealing the ink of tattoos snaking across my chest and arms, reminders of loyalties and losses. My pants follow, kicked aside in a heap by the bed.
Naked now, I feel the weight of the night slough off slightly, but the tension coils lower, in my gut, in my groin.
The bathroom door swings open. I twist the handle and steam rises from the rainfall shower. I step under the spray, letting it pound against my back, eyes closing as rivulets trace paths over my muscles. Hot water blasts down, scalding my shoulders, rinsing away the grime of the streets.
But peace doesn't come. Instead, the fantasy sharpens: Amber, on her knees in that filthy alley pavement, the rough concrete biting into her skin.
I wrap my hand around my cock, already half-hard from the thought. It's thick in my palm, veins pulsing as I stroke slowly, base to tip. In my mind, she's there, looking up at me with those parted lips, shiny from my thumb pressing down, holding her mouth open.
I pump into her pretty mouth, slow at first, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks. Teaching her a lesson, and watchingher realize what happens to little girls who mouth off to their elders and those who play with fire like she did tonight.
Her hands would be bound behind her back, maybe with my belt, forcing her to take it all. I thrust deeper in the fantasy, hitting the back of her throat.
Her gag reflex kicks in, but she doesn't pull away. No, shelearns,eyes watering, mascara streaking down her cheeks. My free hand tangles in her hair, guiding her head, fucking her face with controlled snaps of my hips. The pavement scrapes her knees raw, a stark contrast to the silk of her mouth enveloping me.
Water cascades over my chest, mixing with the building sweat as my strokes quicken. I imagine her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the salt of my pre-cum, her breaths coming in desperate huffs through her nose.
"That's it,"I growl in the vision, voice rough."Show me respect, Amber. Take every inch like you mean it."
The heat builds, coiling tight in my balls, but I don't let it peak yet. In the scene playing out, I drag her up by her hair just before the edge, her body limp and pliant.
She stumbles, lips swollen and red, but I don't give her time to recover.
I flip her around and slam her chest against the concrete wall, then hike her uniform skirt up over her ass. No panties—why bother in this dark corner of my mind?
My hand comes down once, sharp on her cheek, the slap echoing in the alley. She gasps, arches back instinctively. I line up behind her, cock throbbing, and push up into her pussy without a condom, without a word of permission. Raw, skin to skin, the tight heat of her clenching around me like a vice.
She lets out a strangled"please,"the word hanging ambiguous in the night air. Please, stop? Please, don't stop?It doesn't matter; her body betrays her, hips twitching back to meet my thrust.
I groan under the shower's spray, my fist flying now, slick with soap and my own arousal. The fantasy drives me: burying deep inside her, stretching her walls with each brutal drive. No mercy, just possession—my hips pistoning, balls slapping against her clit with every plunge.
The concrete scrapes her breasts through her dress, her nails digging into the wall as she braces.
I lean in, breath hot on her neck.
"Beg for it, little girl. Tell me you want this cock ruining you."
These thoughts disturb me, a shadow I've carried since I was old enough to understand desire twisted by the life I lead. I'd never force a woman, never cross that line in reality. Consent is ironclad; it's the one rule I hold sacred amid the blood and deals.
But the fantasy? It's a release, a way to confront the darkness I crave—the push and pull of denial crumbling into admission. Amber, so fierce and untouched by my world, represents everything I want but can't claim. Her fire calls to the monster in me, the one that imagines breaking her down until she whispers her secrets, her needs, raw and unfiltered.
I want to give her what she wants but won’t ask for. I want her to have everything and to feel pleasure beyond anything she’s ever felt before.
I need to make her mine, and make herbeg.
In the vision, I slide a hand around her hip, fingers finding her clit, swollen and slick from the friction. I rub in tight circles, timing it with my thrusts. They’re deep, grinding rolls that make her sob.
