“Turn around, stick your ass in the air, and part those cheeks for me, bitch.”
A surge of fresh lust washes over me as the air stirs, and I know she’s obeying. “Don’t change position until I tell you.” I wrap the hair tie around her hair in a high ponytail, giving it a few sharp tugs. She moans, and it’s like a siren’s call. My need to fuck her into the ground is almost insurmountable. Moving her hair out of the way, I fix the collar around her neck, tightening it to the max before I pull the attached chain to the side, letting it sit on the ground for now. Then I kneel on the padded ground behind her, spreading her thighs wider as I run my hands up and down her upper legs, grazing my nails against her silky flesh as my good little slut stays in position.
I roll a condom over my hard length as I wonder about this woman who seems to crave pain as much as I do.
What demons haunt her dreams?
What things does she want to forget?
Warming lube in my hand, I drizzle it between her parted cheeks and all over my cock and my fingers. I spend a few minutes teasing her puckered hole, stretching it as I smack her ass with my hand. Bringing my cock to her hole, I put the tip in as I lean down and grab the chain. I pull it back, holding it loose as I leave my dick where it is, letting tension build in the air.
Her thighs tremble against my legs, and I sense the fearful expectation, the heightened anticipation as she waits for me to fuck her. When I can stand it no longer, I drive into her ass in one fast savage thrust, and her screams bounce off the soundproofed walls as I fuck her hard. I yank on the chain, pulling it tight around my fist so her head is pulled back while I slam into her over and over. Strangled sounds pepper the air while I tug repeatedly on the chain and dig my nails into her hip while I pound her tight ass.
All sense of humanity leaves me as I let go, fucking her with brutal intensity. Usually, I like to wrap my hands around her neck and choke her, but I didn’t trust myself today. Knowing I’m meeting Charlie tomorrow night to tell him everything has had me on edge all weekend. I’m wired and not in full control. I don’t want to accidentally kill her while riding my cock.
Those thoughts keep me grounded in the moment as I destroy her ass while tugging on her neck, pulling her hair, and leaving bite marks all over her shoulders and her back.
I fuck her pussy after her ass, pressing her head down to the mat and keeping a solid grip on her neck as I let rip on her warm cunt. She cries out, pleading for mercy as I bring her to the edge of orgasm several times before I take pity on her and let her come.
With one last wild thrust, I roar as my release thunders through me, filling the condom with ropes of cum.
I pull out and remove the collar and clamps and cradle her in my arms while she drinks a bottle of water. “Are you okay?” I ask, smoothing a hand down her hair.
“I’m fine,” she says, moving off my lap, and I let her go. “Thanks, Beast.” Surprising me, she leans in and kisses my cheek before dragging her fingers through the scruff on my chin and cheeks.
I hate that I don’t hate it.
“I needed that.” Her voice is softer, sounding different.
“Yeah.” I can relate.
No more words are spoken as she walks away, heading into the pitch-dark female changing room. The lock clicks shut, and then a trickle of light filters out from under the door.
I stay on my knees on the floor for a while longer. My temporary distraction is gone now Vixen has left, and my thoughts are crowded with long-ago memories of an angel with long blonde hair and the biggest blue eyes.
I wonder what Jane would think of me now.
And not for the first time, I wonder if there would’ve been a forever for us if she’d known the true nature of the beast she was in love with.
ChapterSix
Athena
“Come in,” the older woman says, opening the door to a decent-sized office and ushering me inside. Her smile is tight as she drags her gaze slowly over me from my navy and red stilettos to my fitted designer navy pantsuit with white silk blouse and up over my vibrant red lips, carefully applied make up, and my sleek, thick blonde hair tied in an elegant chignon and pinned in place with a dazzling diamond clip. My mom’s pearls wrap around my neck, and I’m wearing the matching bracelet around my wrist.
I took time and effort with my appearance, deciding on a modern classical look that is sophisticated and understated sexy. I know I look good, but you could never tell from the expression on Belinda Markham’s face.
“Do I have something on my face?” I ask, thrusting my shoulders back and eyeballing the shorter woman with faux confidence.
I’m not the type to get nervous pitching to clients, but I’m on edge today for a variety of reasons. While hot sex with the mysterious dark beast helped to deflect some stress, his touch isn’t capable of performing miracles.
Since my long conversation with Arlo on Saturday, I’ve been struggling to focus. My brother is determined to throw himself headfirst into our world, and nothing I said deterred him. So, I’ve got to accept it and work out new ways to protect him. Starting with ending this threat Manning poses.
Too much is resting on today’s presentation, and I feel ill-equipped because it’s not my pitch and I’ve had the sum total of ten hours of sleep since I left Cali late on Saturday night. Apart from my club visit, I’ve been working around the clock for the past two days tweaking the prepared presentation I was given, trying to give it some unique touches. I have also read everything I could find online about Manning Motors and its CEO, but I definitely could have used more time. Usually, I come to these things fully prepared and feeling completely in control, knowing I can handle anything that crops up because I have explored every possible question and objection.
Today, I’ll be winging it, and I don’t like taking chances even if Dad says it’s a foregone conclusion. My business reputation is at stake, and I can’t afford to fuck up. Winning this contract is too important, and Arlo’s life may depend on it.
The constipated look disappears from Belinda’s face, and she emits a sigh as she closes the door. “Forgive me, that was rude. You don’t have anything on your face,” she adds, gesturing me toward the chair in front of her desk. “You look professional and polished.”
