Hu Money: A Forbidden Bully Romance (The Dirty Money Duet Book 1)

by BL Mute

  She starts to rock her hips in a slow rhythm. “Mmm,” she moans.

  “Tell me, Lydia.”

  “No one fucked me.”

  I let myself lean back more as I grab her hips and force her down further, even though every inch of space is already gone. “I don’t believe you.”

  “And I don’t care.”

  Her hands drag to the tops of mine, and she digs her nails into them. I quickly remove one and gather her ponytail, then yank. “No marks,” I spit through clenched teeth.

  Her other hand quickly releases mine. “Sorry. I forgot you probably don’t want your other fuck buddies to know about me.”

  “Wrong. I’d rather your mother not find out.”

  With my reply, she stills, but I don’t stop. I sink my fingers into her waist and lift her just enough to slide out, then back in. I fuck her slowly, enjoying the feeling of every inch of me going in and out over and over. I continue my slow pace, not wanting the feeling to end.

  When her breath picks up, I move again and sit her in the leather chair positioned in front of my desk. I spread her legs wide as I drop to my knees, then put them onto my shoulders. The chair is high enough that it lines my dick up with her perfectly when I’m on my knees.

  Normally I don’t want to look at her as my cock invades her insides because she resembles her father too much, but I want her to see me this time. I want to see her. I want her to look into my eyes as she comes so she knows I’m the one who brings her pleasure. I’m the one who makes her legs shake and her heartbeat quicken. I’m the one who fucks her like a man—not a little boy like she’s used to. I fuck her the way she craves but is too ashamed to admit.

  “Color,” I state, easing my way back into her.

  Her blue eyes stare into mine, but she doesn’t answer. Her face is void of any emotion, and I don’t particularly like that. Normally, even though it’s clear she hates me, she at least enjoys herself.

  “Now, Lydia.”

  “Green,” she snaps.

  Her hands move above her head and grip the top of the chair as I finally let the beast inside of me free. Over and over, I plow into her hard. Sweat slicks my forehead, my breaths grow more labored, and my knees start to scream, but I don’t stop. I want a fucking reaction from her. Her nails dig into the leather, and her jaw tics. She’s doing her best not to give me anything I want, and I’m sure it’s some sort of fucked-up retribution, but the joke is on her because I’m still going to get off.

  I lock my eyes to hers. She stays stoic—a complete stone, uninterested in what I’m doing—and it pisses me off. I yank out of her and stand, clutching my aching cock in my hand. I stroke myself over and over as she stays locked in the same position in the chair, staring up at me with disgust. A smirk finds my lips when I feel my climax coming. I let it grow into a full smile as I come, letting my seed ooze all over her face.

  Once every drop is on her face and my balls are empty, I grab the tissue box off my desk and toss it in her lap. “Clean yourself up.”

  She plucks one and wipes her face, smearing her mascara down her cheeks as she does. “You’re disgusting, Mac.”

  “Yeah? Maybe show some enthusiasm next time and I won’t resort to things to get a reaction from you.”

  She shakes her head and stands, then pulls her skirt back on. Before she walks to the door, she steps to me and reaches into my pants pocket to grab her phone. “Ever think I just don’t want this anymore?”

  I laugh. “Like I said before, I know my cock is superior. You can’t fool me.”

  She shakes her head with a defeated laugh. “Whatever you say.”

  With that, she turns her back to me and walks out of my office as she buttons her shirt.

  As the door closes, I readjust myself and gather my things. I’m going out of town tomorrow with Claire, so I need to get shit out of my system now. I thought I could do that with Lydia, but the bitch wouldn’t give in. Something is up, and I intend to figure it out, but I have more important things to handle right now.

  Like the fact I’m about to be stuck with the woman I married for a few days, and I haven’t had a good lay in a week. I like to keep my time at Pleasers short and on the low. I keep to a schedule and make sure I watch my back, but I have to go tonight. I need to see my regular girl and let off some steam.

  I shove my keys and phone into my pocket, then glance to my watch. It’s only three o’clock, but that just means more time with Stella. Rounding my desk, I shut down my computer and make sure no evidence of mine and Lydia’s time together is present. Once I see everything is good, I walk to my door, kill the light, then step into the hall.

  If Lydia won’t give me what I want, I’ll get it from someone I know will.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  MALCOLM

  I park my car in the back and step out. I round the front of the building and greet the same bouncer that is there every time I come. One good thing about the people here is they’re discreet. I’m still not sure how my former wife found out, but it doesn’t matter much anymore since she’s dead. I would like to keep this from Claire though. Being the paragon she is, I’m sure my time here wouldn’t be taken nicely.

  The chubby guy opens the door, and I step inside. Immediately, I’m met with the smell of jasmine. It’s meant to help relax you so you can enjoy the full experience of everything that happens behind the doors. I never used to like it, but I’ve grown accustomed to it now. The same way I am with Lydia’s scent.

  I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. I won’t think of her while I’m here, or at least I’ll try not to. She frustrated the hell out of me, and now I just want to take it out on someone else.

  When I open them again and look around, I see Stella sashaying my way. As soon as she’s in front of me, she drops to her knees and positions her eyes on my shoes. “Master. I didn’t know I would be seeing you today.”

  “Rough day at work” is the only reply I give her before stepping around her and walking to the back.

  Pleasers is a place meant to explore and enjoy different lifestyles. Everyone here is thoroughly vetted and cleared before they’re accepted into the club. Everyone in town knows about this place, but not many are brave enough to try and step inside. That’s why being discreet is a must. I chalk it up to the snobs of Bexley Falls not being educated. People don’t come here just for sex.

  Sure, sex is a big part, but there are plenty of members who come to simply escape everyday life and have a drink at the bar where no one is going to judge them or try and start a pointless conversation.

  It almost reminds me of a casino. There are no windows, it’s kept fairly cool, and bouncers are around every corner. The layout is pretty basic too. There is a bar along one wall, a sitting section along another, with open space in the middle. But all the way to the back is where I like to play.

  I step through the double doors and let my shoulders relax. I know Stella isn’t too far behind because I’ve trained her well. She’s been my sub for years.

  I glance around the space, seeing all the people I normally do when I come, but I don’t pay them any mind. I go all the way back to the furthest wall and enter the second door on the right. A bed draped in black satin sheets is positioned in the middle of the floor with paddles, whips, and other things hanging on the wall to its left. Across from the bed is an X frame with pretty red cuffs hanging off every point. Two for hands and two for feet.

  “How do you want me?” Stella asks from behind me, closing the door.

  “The bed.”

  I turn and watch as she crawls over the sheets on her hands and knees.

  It took us months to get to this point in our relationship. I had to build her trust and let her know I would never hurt her unless she wanted it. Most people think a relationship like this is controlled by the Dom, but that isn’t true. Stella holds all the power in her hands. If she doesn’t like something, it stops. If she wants to break things off and find someone new, she can. Everything is at h
er discretion. We’ve talked boundaries and limits, we’ve tried new things together, but Stella needs the structure. She likes being used and abused in a way where she has a say-so. She needs me just like I need her.

  I thought when I finally got my hands on Lydia, I could introduce her to this—to train her to take Stella’s spot—but the more time I spend with her, the more I realize that isn’t going to happen. Some people aren’t built for this, and Lydia is one of them.

  I feared I would lose interest in Stella too, which would be hard for her. Leaving someone in this lifestyle is never easy, but I’ve grown to care for her over the years, and I don’t want to hurt her. Not unless she wants me to.

  She flips over and lays her head on the pillows, keeping her arms straight at her side and her legs closed. This is how I like her. It gives me a moment to think about what I want. I walk to the wall and pluck the pair of thigh restraints off the wall.

  Moving back to her, I lift one leg and secure it in place at the top of her thigh, then secure the corresponding wrist through the extra looped fabric sewn to the side. I do the same to the other, then step back and examine her.

  “Spread your arms,” I demand.

  Her arms start to move, but her wrists never leave her legs, which results in her knees opening. As her green eyes stare at me, waiting for approval, I take in her body. She’s thin and short, which I enjoy. I love being dominant in every way. Her long dark hair is tied up into a tight bun, and her body is wrapped in black lingerie. It’s basic, just the way I like, and makes her pale skin almost shine.

  I move back to the bed and flip her over, then grab her waist and push her knees up so her ass is in the air and her face in the pillows.

  “Perfect,” I praise, knowing she needs to hear my thoughts. She gets off knowing she pleases me.

  She turns and watches me the best she can as I go back to the wall. I run my hands over all the different whips and paddles, the cool leathers and metals sending a chill down my spine.

  “Which do you prefer today, my needy whore?”

  Her eyes close with the name, and I can see a calmness fall over her body. She loves when I call her names. “Third from the right, please.”

  I give in to her request and grab the long, rectangular leather paddle. “I’m still seeing that woman,” I state, running the paddle over her back, “and she pissed me off today.” I move it to her ass and let it linger for a moment. “I’m angry, and you’ll pay for it. Give me your color.”

  She releases a short breath. “Green.”

  I smile. Every dynamic is different, but Stella knew how I wanted things before this even started. I would take care of her in the ways she needed inside of these walls, but when I leave, there would be nothing. I needed to upkeep my stellar appearance in town and keep what I do in my spare time a secret. It’s one of the many reasons I could never settle with subs. They wanted more, and I wasn’t willing to give it. But then Stella strolled in here needing the exact same thing.

  She’s the mayor’s wife, so she holds the same standards as me. Is it wrong I fuck her and use her the way she craves because the old fuck can’t give it to her? Probably. But something being wrong hasn’t stopped me yet. I do fuck my new wife’s daughter, after all.

  I try and push the thoughts of Lydia away, but it doesn’t work. I want her to be what I want her to be, but that will never happen.

  Whack!

  I place the first strike on Stella’s ass.

  I want her to only have me. To only want me. I want to fucking consume her.

  Whack!

  I lift the paddle again, but this time, the smug look Lydia wore on her face as I fucked her pops into my mind.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  Three more smacks on Stella’s ass. “Color!”

  Her breaths are coming out in rapid succession. “Ye—yellow.”

  I squeeze my eyes for a moment, then open them again, trying to gather my bearings. Normally there is more buildup for Stella before we get to this, and as much as I’m enjoying it, I know she probably isn’t. I need to keep her needs in mind along with mine. I can’t let Lydia ruin this for me.

  I drop the paddle and step closer, then place my hand in the exact spot I laid the five hard smacks to. I knead her flesh with my hands gently for a moment, then bend down and place a soft kiss over each welted line starting to form.

  I reach up and unhook her wrists from the thigh restraints, then turn her over. “I’m not done, but you’re being a good little whore, so I want to reward you.” She nods her head as she stares up at me.

  The thing with Stella is she’s different. She needs hard, punishing love—if this can even be called that—along with slow, sweet gestures sprinkled in. She likes having her ass beaten, her throat gagged, and hair pulled, but she also liked the sensual kisses, the long, deep strokes, and cuddles.

  I crawl on top of her and pepper kisses along her neck. I can feel her heartbeat pounding with every kiss I place, but slowly, it calms. I move to her shoulders and do the same thing, then drag my lips down her body. I let my hands follow the same trail my lips took, knowing she loves having her body touched.

  I kiss and massage every inch of her before dipping my head between her legs and lapping at her slit. Sweet, but not as sweet as Lydia.

  The thought rushes into my mind before I even have the chance to ward it off, and it does nothing but piss me off. Here I am, worshiping a woman I know wants me, but I can’t get the little bitch out of my head. I thought things would change between her and I. That she would be so awed by my skills, but it’s like it does nothing for her. Which makes me circle back to my earlier thoughts.

  I need to figure out why she’s lost interest. I need to know who is stealing her away from me.

  When Stella’s hands push into my hair, I’m brought back to reality. I give her one last long lick, then crawl back over her. I place my hand around her throat and squeeze as I shove my cock into her wanting pussy.

  “Tell me how you want it,” I hiss.

  “Hard. Fuck me hard.” She pants. And I do.

  I drive into her over and over, stretching her hole and planting myself as deeply as I can. With every stroke, my grip on her throat gets tighter, and her face gets paler. It’s kind of sexy, honestly. Seeing the life almost drained from the person you’re fucking, but I have to be careful not to take it too far. Her hand reaches up and taps the back of mine, telling me she can’t handle it anymore, so I release her.

  Suddenly, my want for Stella depletes, and I can’t even figure out why I came here in the first place. This isn’t something I should be doing with the emotions I’m feeling right now. I need to see him.

  Carter.

  I pull my cock out of her, surprised it’s already going soft, and fall down beside her. Pulling her into my arms, I stroke her hair. Her drops after play are always pretty intense, and I don’t think I helped that much today. Here I was, hoping Lydia would become consumed by me, but in reality, I’m the one who seems to be consumed by her.

  Releasing a deep breath, I push her from my mind. I need to give Stella the care she deserves and make sure she’s okay before I leave. I caress her softly, whisper how proud I am of her, and massage her aching ass. The same routine I always follow once we’re done.

  As she finally catches her breath and comes back to reality, I dress myself, dress her, then go on my way. Stella did nothing for me today, and neither did Lydia. I need to find the release I’ve been seeking.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  LYDIA

  Ever since I made it home, I’ve locked myself in my room. I don’t know what finally made it click—maybe it was the bundle of cash on my pillow when I got home or the fact I’m finally seeing how fucked this whole this is, but today with Malcolm, I didn’t feel anything. There were no butterflies, no thrill, no pleasure. It’s like everything just evaporated, and when he made the comment about my mom, it made me remember how wrong this whole thing is. I’ve been so focused on chasing t
he adrenaline that I forgot how disgusting this really is. I need to stop and get away. I need to occupy my mind in other ways.

  I toss in bed and try and push the thoughts away to sleep, but it doesn’t happen. Normally, Malcolm is all I can think about— all I can fantasize about—but tonight it isn’t his face in my head. It’s Carter’s. The way his fingers laced through my hair, or all the filthy things he said, the way he tastes.

  He’s all I can think about. I shouldn’t—for more than one reason, and that’s all I keep telling myself, but none of that seems to matter. Maybe he’s the perfect escape from this shit with Mac. The perfect reason to walk away and still get what I’m craving. He did say we share a secret, after all.

  With the thought at the center of my mind, I throw my legs over the side of my bed and stand. The house has been quiet for a few hours, and from what I can tell from the crack under my door, no lights are on. Everyone is in bed, which is perfect. If I don’t act now, I’ll probably stop myself and think too far into shit, and I can’t do that this time.

  Carter is the lesser of the two evils I’m dealing with. I’d rather give myself to him than Mac, and I need his help. He knows Mac better than anyone.

  I pad to my bathroom door and crack it open, doing my best to remain quiet. I tiptoe over the cold tiles, then stop in front of the door that leads to Carter’s room. I pause for a second, my fist hanging in the air as I debate on knocking, but when I hear muffled whispers on the other side, I freeze.

  “Who is it, Carter?” Mac’s voice sounds strained.

  “I don’t know, Dad. I only keep tabs on her at work like you asked. I stay the fuck out of her personal life.”

  I press my ear to the door to try and hear their conversation better, but something smacks the other side, then shatters. I slam my hand to my mouth, trying to conceal my shocked squeal, and stay frozen in my spot. Stifled groans and sounds of moving around come out lowly as I stand there, then just as quickly as it all started, it stops.