Vice: Sins of Seven

by René, Dani

  Tonight, my goal is to devour a beautiful body with elicit moans and sweet pleasure. With a smirk on my face, I slip into the driver’s seat and hope my sweet Cayleigh is ready for an evening of debauchery.

  Chapter 11

  Cayleigh

  I’ve never been so fucking nervous in all my life. All day, my mind has been awash with what Oliver offered. I’m finally going to experience a scene which I’ve wanted for so long, and I can’t remember a time when I haven’t fantasized about it.

  Only one other man has given me something I needed so much, and he was murdered in cold blood. Granted, we didn’t explore a dark scene like this. We only enjoyed our rough fucks on occasion, but I always craved more, and even then, he couldn’t deliver. Maybe it’s because he loved me too much.

  The night is dark, with only a sliver of the moon peeking through the curtains. Sipping my wine, I close my eyes in an attempt to calm my nerves. I should put some music on to fill the silence, but I can’t bring myself to stand up. My knees are wobbly, and my legs are shaky.

  Staring into the depths of the wine, I swirl the crimson fluid against the edges. I focus on the shimmering lights reflecting in the glass. Red wine is my vice. It always has been. When I was younger, out partying, I’d drink copious amounts of the alcohol. It got to a point where I would be numb from the effect of drinks I’d consumed.

  I was sixteen the first time I drank wine. Or beer for that matter. Living with an Irish mobster for a father and having two older brothers who didn’t want you around because you were the annoying little sister caused me to hang out with the wrong crowd.

  The girls who hung around our house only wanted to see my father or fuck my brothers. Hell, I think some of them fucked my father too. I can’t help shuddering at that. I decided I’d be the grown up and get to know them, make friends with them so I could also be part of their clique. And that’s when I met him, the man who stole my heart and gave me a ring.

  Of course, my father wanted to kill Sean since I was his baby girl. What my father soon realized was that I’d grown up way too fast. Most of my childhood was learning about guns, about who’s on the wrong side of the fence and who’s on the right.

  I didn’t go to the clubs or cinemas. I spent my time watching men bow down to Pa rather than see what other girls my age did. I don’t regret my life, not at all, but now that I’m here and I have the freedom to do as I wish without the whole mob watching over me, I plan to explore who I am as a woman.

  I want to live out my fantasies, my dreams, and that brings me back to now. I’ve made a decision that I need to talk to Oliver and Chance about. At first, I thought I’d be one-third of this relationship. But I’ve made up my mind. I’d like to have a relationship where it will only be my Dominant and me. Also, I can see there’s emotion between them, and as much as I try, I don’t feel the same for either of them.

  As much as I care for Oliver and Chance, I know my life isn’t here. And I want to find out who I am before delving into a long-term relationship. Oliver’s training will prepare me, and I know I’ll be ready for when the time comes.

  The other conversation I’m not looking forward to having is telling Carrick and Callan I want to leave. I love my brothers, but they’re the epitome of demanding assholes. I know they love me, and they’re looking out for me, but it’s time for me to walk on my own. I’ve thought long and hard, and I’m going to call Eva and see if I can live with her and Nate in Los Angeles. It’s time for me to spread my wings once more.

  Nathan is one of Carrick’s best friends, and he and his wife Eva have a family now. Nate runs Seven Sins LA. I’ll be safe and have the support of what I would call extended family. If my brother trusts them, I know they’re good people.

  Rising from the chair, I head into the kitchen to refill my glass when my body is flung away from the countertop, the glass shattering to the floor, and I’m pressed against the cool wall beside the fridge.

  “If you scream, I’ll make this even worse for you,” Oliver’s rough timbre whispers in my ear, low and menacing. My knees go weak, and my clit thrums. His one hand grips my wrist behind my back, his other fisting my long brown hair as he tugs me backward. “Do you understand me, pet?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammer, realizing my heart is hammering wildly, but even though there’s a hint of fear, I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been before. Ever.

  He wordlessly drags me toward the hallway, straight down toward my bedroom. He releases me only for a second before gripping both my wrists and slamming my back against my bedroom door. His eyes, normally a steel gray, turn dark, menacing as if a raging thunderstorm is about to hit.

  The corner of his mouth tilts into a grin — devious and sadistic. His free hand reaches for my shorts, tugging them down my legs.

  “Please, Oliver, we don’t have—”

  “Did I fucking ask you to speak?” he hisses, gripping my throat, tightening his hold on me. My pussy is wet, as I’m needy for this man.

  “N-no, Sir,” I whisper. Tears form in my eyes, pricking against the lashes, and I blink, allowing them to fall. His smile is pure venom. He’s lost in this scene, and I’m trembling with want.

  He shoves me down to my knees, my head banging against the wall, which has stars momentarily flashing behind my lids as he holds me steady. Without much effort, his cock is out, jutting from the open zipper.

  “Open,” he grunts, pushing the tip against my lips. I can’t not obey him, and the tears streaming down my face only seem to make him harder as I watch the shaft jolt when he scrutinizes me. My lips part, and his cock slams in deep. My throat constricts around it, making gagging sounds as he fucks my face with wild abandonment.

  My hands push against his thighs, attempting to move him backward, but his stance is solid, and his body moves against mine like it was made to piston in and out of me. There’s desire emanating around the room — thick and muggy.

  My stomach lurches when he pushes deeper. I can feel the bulge in my throat and the burn rising up in my gullet, he pulls back. Spit drips from the thick, angry shaft in strings, as I’ve seen in porn.

  “Such a pretty girl when you cry,” he tells me, slamming down my throat one more time for good measure. He grips his cock, slapping it against my cheek. “This is what you wanted.” The words make my heart soar.

  I’m wrenched from the floor, dragged across the room, and pushed onto the bed. In an attempt to get away, I’m pulled back by my ankles. A harsh, burning swat on my ass causes me to cry out as the sting tingles through me.

  He tugs my shorts down my thighs, finding my thong and chuckling. He doesn’t wait, merely tears it from my body, the material ripping loudly in the room. The only sounds that echo in my ears are my whimpers and his grunts.

  My bedside lamp flies from the nightstand, crashing onto the floor. My erratic heartbeat thuds wildly in my chest; my lungs protest as I play the role. The bedding torn from the perfectly made bed makes it look like there’s been a war inside my room.

  His body is on me, heavy and commanding. His cock prods against the crack of my ass. I’m clawing at the bed, my nails digging into the sheets, but it’s no use. I’m five foot nothing, and he’s over six feet. I have no chance.

  His hands are in my hair once more, pulling my head backward, his lips at my cheek. “So fucking good,” he growls the moment he slams into my pussy, which is drenched. I cry out as the thickness of his cock spreads me painfully, but pleasure zings along my spine. Every nerve ending in my body is alight with an electric current that sends me into orbit.

  “Please, Oliver,” I whimper once more, knowing my safe words but not using them. And that’s when he finally takes me.

  Chapter 12

  Oliver

  I pull out of her, waiting for her to whimper in frustration. “Is this what you wanted?” My voice is thick, husky with desire. I’m a sadist; this shit is what I live for. Her body is trembling beneath me, and I know she can feel my cock pressing into her back. Knowing
she’s scared is part of what kicks my adrenaline into high gear.

  “Please,” she croaks, her voice turning hoarse with the scream I wrenched from her moments ago. I’ve always found “cat and mouse” to be a fun game, but when you add in the element of desire that thrums through her veins and burns in her gaze, it makes it so much more elicit.

  Pulling her off the bed, I smile down at her slim frame and press her against the plush carpet. Watching her claw against practically nothing makes me chuckle. I’m lost in the scene. I’m obliterating my need and hers. My hands are on her again, spanking her harder and harder. My hand is burning, her ass turning a bright shade of red.

  “Do you want me to fuck you right here on the floor?” I lean in and hiss in her ear. “Tell me, Cayleigh, do you need my cock breaking your tight pussy?” My words whisper over her neck as I latch onto her soft flesh, sucking it hard into my mouth until she’s squealing.

  “Sir, please, Oliver, no,” she whimpers and moans, but her body betrays every utterance because she lifts her hips, pushing her ass against my crotch, and I know she’s taunting me as much as I am her. My hand around her throat is tight, squeezing the air from her lungs when she finally bucks me off and rolls onto her back.

  It doesn’t take me long to grab her ankle as she’s trying to escape and drag her back to the floor. The carpet underfoot is soft enough that when she topples, there’s only a soft whooshing sound. She’s once again under me, but this time I’m nestled between her straining thighs.

  Her cheeks are bright red, her neck a rosy hue, and her lips plump and parted as her breaths come short and quick. She’s so turned on she can hardly speak. Her mascara has run down her face leaving pretty, beautiful streaks. She’s incredible.

  I press two fingers onto her tongue. “Suck,” I order, and she does. Her lips clamp down around both digits, and my mind is awash with images of her choking on my cock again. I want her to gag once more. I want to hear those pretty sounds she makes. Tugging my hand from her, I reach between her legs and pump two fingers into her. She’s nowhere near wet — she’s fucking drenched.

  “Please, Sir,” she mewls, lifting her hips toward me. And I know she needs it. Her orgasm is close. I feel her walls pulsing around my fingers, and I continue taunting her. The moment I feel her tighten, I stop all movement, which makes her body shudder and convulse.

  A smirk on my lips makes her tear up. She knows I’m torturing her. We both needed this. Ached for it. The air is heavy with lust, so fierce it threatens to burn the fucking building down, but all I can think of is bending her to my will.

  “Are you ready to come on my cock?” I don’t wait for her to answer. My hand is already gripping my shaft, and I’m plunging into her. The force with which I drive my hips into hers knocks all breath from her lungs.

  I pull out, thrusting my cock into her again and again. We’re breathing heavy as I grip her wrists, pinning them onto the carpet, holding her down. I don’t relent. Her orgasm slams into her, causing her to scream my name, but she doesn’t call her safe word.

  There’s no way I can stop the feeling as it trickles up my spine. Each whimper and moan is fuel to the fire burning and raging itself through my veins. My blood burns as it scorches my need for Cayleigh.

  The sound of sex is heavy in the air, and we’re merely animals, needing our release. Her juices drench me, but I don’t stop fucking her into the floor when she once more tries to wiggle her way from underneath me. My cock throbs, spearing into her. I don’t see reason anymore because the only thing that matters is her. Completely and utterly letting me own her.

  I throb inside her tight heat, expanding, thickening to the point of spreading her tight hole to take me. I want this. She needs it, and as she latches her mouth onto my shoulder, her teeth sink into my skin, drawing blood as I empty my seed inside her.

  My chest heaves against her tits. Our bodies are sweaty, and I’m trembling as much as she is. I know that was something I’ll never experience again. The first time with a new submissive in a specific scene or role play is always something extraordinary for me.

  “Oliver,” she whispers in my ear, bringing me back down to earth, to reality, where I’ve got her pinned down like a rag doll. She looks broken — her hair is a mess, and those pretty eyes are shimmering with tears. Plump lips are swollen from our kiss and parted in an O. Her cheeks are stained with black streaks of her emotion, when I face-fucked her for my pleasure.

  Utterly fucking beautiful.

  “Cayleigh.” My voice is still thick and raspy. “Are you okay?” Lifting my head, I meet her teary gaze. I’ve never seen a more stunning woman than her right now. There’s something primal about her, and all I can think about is leaning in to lap at the salty liquid shining on her face. Tears drip down the sides toward her ear, and I take them in my mouth, licking her pain, her desire, her fear.

  “I’ve never been better.” Her smile lights up her face, and I know I’ve offered her something she clearly needed. In all my years of being a Dominant, I’d never allowed myself to lose complete control. I’d never even fathomed wanting it like that. Yes, I love the pain, doling out on supple flesh, but I can’t explain how this has completely cracked me open and laid me bare. It takes me back to a memory that shudders through me. My chest aches in agony as I recall it with clarity.

  There’s blood everywhere. I can’t breathe. Two sets of eyes burn holes through me. They’re smiling, wicked, evil, and vile. I can’t move. The pain is too much. My lungs attempt to pull in air, but as I shift, I realize there’s a keening cry coming from somewhere.

  Guilt weighs heavily on me.

  There’s a pain so acute shooting through every nerve in my body. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I see it as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. They’re satisfied with what they’ve done. What they’ve made me do. My body is cold, rigid, and I pray for death to steal me.

  “Good lad.” The deep rumble comes from beside me. A slap on the back in camaraderie and bile rises in my throat, burning like acid. Racing for the trash can, I lose the contents of my stomach. There’s not much, but the bitter taste has more to do with what I’ve just done than the puke that tumbles over my lips.

  Tears streak down my face when I realize how broken I truly am. They made me this way — broken inside and out.

  “Get him up. We need to clean this mess before your wife gets home.” The chuckle of a man I trusted all my life is clear, sharp as a blade slicing through me. I don’t know how I’ll survive this.

  Turning my gaze on those blue eyes that stare at me emotionlessly, I utter the only words I can offer. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Shoving away from her, I stumble backward, unsure of what else to say. The awareness that suddenly hits me is fierce, threatening to choke me. “I . . .” Rising to my feet, I offer her my hand, which she accepts with a shy smile. “That was . . . I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

  “I know I was safe with you.” Her tiny hand lands on my heaving chest as I try to pull in air. My lungs feel as if they’re filled with concrete, and it only serves to make me more anxious. I pride myself on my control, on how well I handle this life, but Cayleigh does something to me. She breaks down the Dominant hold I have and wiggles her way into my darkness.

  “Cayleigh, we will never do that again.”

  “Are you trying to tell me if I called out my safe word, you wouldn’t have stopped?” she bites out in frustration, and I know I’ve just messed with our evening. I promised her a night where she’d be able to let go, to live out what she desires, and now I’ve fucked it up.

  “I need to go home. Get dressed.” Racing from the room, I make my way into the second bedroom. Needing silence, I shut the door behind me, allowing myself a moment to breathe. The memory of what I was forced to do because sick individuals wanted entertainment haunts me. The girl was broken, but so was I. Two men who were meant to be guardians, adults, took what wasn’t theirs to take from her and me.r />
  My shirt is torn, my hair is a mess, and there’s a bite mark on the curve of my neck which can thankfully be hidden by the collar of my jacket or shirt.

  The click of the door sounds behind me, and then I hear the soft footfalls of Cayleigh, alerting me of her presence in the small room. How I wish I were home right now in my private space.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I wanted to see if you were okay,” she tells me confidently.

  Pivoting, I meet her wide eyes which are so pretty, they’re sparkling like gemstones. “There will never be a day you top me from the bottom. I am the one who takes care of you,” I tell her. I notice her flinch at my harsh words, at me pushing her affection away.

  “This life,” she waves her hand around us. “It’s what I need. I asked for that, and you gave it. I’m not some brainless idiot who cannot make choices for myself. I’m not trying to top you. I’m not even trying to push you away, but there’s something inside here,” she says, placing two fingertips on my forehead, “that’s scaring you. What is it?”

  Stalking toward her, I grip her arms, shoving her backward until her body is slammed between mine and the wall behind her. She doesn’t flinch; she doesn’t even mewl.

  “I don’t deal well with affection.”

  “And I don’t deal well with assholes,” she bites out, earning her a chuckle. Her lips purse in a tight line, making me hungry to feast on them.

  “If you ever speak to me like that again, I will tan your ass,” I warn her. “Now, I trust you’re ready for me to leave?”

  “Do you want to leave? Or are you pushing me away?” Her question stills me for a moment, and I realize she’s right. Yes, I should’ve given her aftercare. I’m failing at the only thing that’s ever given me pleasure after a scene — something I’d always prided myself in. I’m becoming lazy in my dominance, which is not a good thing. Without a word, I scoop her into my arms, carrying her bridal-style into her bathroom.