by Dani René
"You realize there are others watching you,” I taunt her with a smirk, making her shiver under my scrutiny. “You’re wet, darling. I can smell you from here. You’re needy for it.”
I lean in, running my nose along the curve of her neck, collarbone, down toward her tits. Pulling a dark nub into my mouth, I suck hard, grazing my teeth along the hardened nipple, causing her to cry out in pain.
The sound is like an aphrodisiac.
I follow suit with the other one, pulling and tugging it with a bite so harsh I’m sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow.
“You have lovely tits,” I tell her. “Speak.”
“Thank you.”
She’s polite, remembering that I told her not to call me Sir, or Master, or any of those fucked-up titles. I’m none of those things. I’m an asshole who gets off on the pain.
I reach up, grabbing a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back so her neck is open for me. My mouth latches on to the smooth, creamy flesh as I suckle on it, biting down hard enough to nip the skin. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and I revel in it like a fucking demon.
Her breaths come fast. I wait for her to cry out her safe word, but she doesn’t. I release her, pushing her to the bed where she stumbles, her hands coming out to save her from toppling all the way over. She lands on the mattress, her body bent at the waist.
"I want to fuck this tight little ass,” I tell her, raining down a swat on the globe of her ass.
She yelps loudly, and I offer her another slap, and another. I place one hand on her back, holding her where I want her. Bent over and waiting. With the other, I take my blade and slice away her panties. I know she feels the cold, harsh steel, and I’m certain it’s got her scared, ready to run. But once again, she doesn’t.
I slide my hands over the cheeks of her ass, opening them to my gaze. From this view, I note her cunt is slick, drenched with need.
I press a thumb on the tight ring of muscle, which has my cock threatening to rip through my jeans. She’s fucking tight, and I wonder just how many times she’s done this, because from where I’m standing, she looks like a goddamn virgin.
“Reach back, play with your cunt. I want to watch.”
She moves her hand between her splayed thighs, and I can see her two fingers disappear into her sopping hole. The squelching sounds of her juices make my mouth water.
“Finger your ass.”
“Callan, I—”
"Are you telling me no?" My voice is harsh, feral. I’m losing all sense of control for this woman who’s so tight, so fucking needy for me. "I want to hear you count, while you finger your cunt and that pretty rosebud for me." I don’t use my belt because I want to feel her flesh warm under each swat of my hand.
Smack.
"I can’t hear you, darling," I taunt.
"One," she whispers in a croaky tone.
Smack.
"Louder," I demand harshly, my voice low and gruff with the word, which causes her to shudder. My palm is stinging and tingling for more, needing to feel her skin give way under my punishment.
"Two." Her count gets louder, but I know by the time she reaches five, she’ll be screaming. Her scent is heavy in the air, musky, yet sweet and tantalizing.
"I’m not a nice man. I’ll use my belt next. Is that what you want?" My question causes her to shiver. Her head shakes a no, but her quivering cunt is pretty and glistening when I lean in to inhale her.
I lift my hand and rain down another harsh swat on her pale skin. The cock-hardening shade of pink tinging into red appears on her flesh, and I can’t help smiling.
"THREE!" she practically screeches, and I grin with satisfaction. The light catches her jewelry when she shifts her fingers, and I note the glint I didn’t see earlier. She’d twisted the gold ring around, but since she’s been clawing at her supple ass, it’s shifted, and the large diamond teases me from her left hand.
She’s engaged.
Even fucking better.
I don’t pay any mind to the mirror behind me, and I wonder if her fiancé is out there watching his woman be owned by a man who’s probably made her feel better than she ever has before. Perhaps he’s watching, possibly jerking his dick.
My palm twitches, and I deliver another swat on her ass, reveling in the way the globes jiggle. I’ve always loved curves on a woman, gripping them while I plough into their bodies. Making sure they remember me for days after I’ve walked out, leaving them with bruises and bite marks.
"FOUR!"
Smack.
"FIVE!"
My cock is painfully hard, the tip dripping with arousal, and my balls are heavy with need to release inside her. I shove my zipper down, freeing my erection, which is angry. It’s throbbing for a taste of her cunt, but before I do drive into her, I slide on the rubber I had stashed in my pocket.
Once I’m sheathed, I nudge her ass with the tip of my dick. With her fingers working both holes, it takes all my fucking restraint not to shoot my load too soon. I wrench her arm away from her ass. Gripping her cheeks, I open them to my hungry glare.
“Please,” she pleads into the mattress, and before I have time to admonish her for speaking out of turn, my cock is swallowed into her tight entrance, causing a keening cry to fall into the mattress. She grasps as the sheet beneath with her free hand. The other one still working her pussy as I plough into her ass. Her body is sucking me in, demanding I empty myself, but I don’t. Closing my eyes, I focus on the electric current of pleasure shooting through my veins.
I pull out slow and slam back in. My hips smacking against her. The sound loud, echoing along with her moans and whimpers. I won’t last long. I know it. I feel the pleasure trickling down my spine as I fuck her. There’s no restraint. Nothing more than animalistic pleasure.
"Make yourself come while I own this pretty backside," I order her.
She’s close to buckling as my hips meet the cheeks of her ass, faster and harder. Her hips press into the mattress as I grip the flowing strands of black hair, pulling her backward so her face is close enough to meet my mouth.
“Those men are jerking their cocks for you. Do you like that? Is your fiancé sitting there watching you get owned like a little slut?” My words feather over her skin, causing more cries to fall from her mouth. She’s so lost in pleasure she can’t answer me. There are no words to offer me in response, so I continue fucking her like a man possessed.
I don’t know if she’s nodding or shaking her head, but I don’t give a fuck. All I need is to come. Her cunt tightens, and her tight hole pulses around my cock then tries to push me out, but I don’t allow it. I bury myself deep inside her body as my balls draw up, and I empty myself into the rubber.
I move swiftly, pulling out of her once I can think straight. I dispose of the used condom and smirk at the boneless woman on the bed. Righting my boxers and zipper, I grab my shirt and jacket from the chair. Shrugging on the crisp cotton, I don’t bother buttoning it up as I head out the door.
With one last glance at her, I offer a smirk.
“Thanks, darling.”
Madison
My bedroom is bathed in the soft orange glow of sunrise. There’s a melody playing through the speakers of my stereo as I stare up at the ceiling. My mind, as always, is on my father’s upcoming trip. When he’s away for weeks on end, I feel as if I’m alone in the world.
When he’s gone, I have to be the face of the Parker household. Sometimes I feel like the princess locked in the tower. Somewhere high above the world so nobody can find me; there’s no excitement, merely duty.
Even Hudson, the boy I’m meant to be dating—and yes, I call him that because he’s not much older than me—even he doesn’t offer me the life I want, and I know he never will. When I think about excitement, I remember the dark-haired stranger in Seven Sins. I don’t know him, but when I felt his gaze on me, every part of my body responded.
There was an intensity in his stare that left me breathless. I was almost certain he’d com
e talk to me, but he never did. He sat at the bar, watching, as if he was the hunter and I was the prey.
He seemed to exude darkness and danger. Something I’d become accustomed to with my father’s line of work. Being a senator’s daughter puts me in all kinds of situations where I could be hurt, and that’s why my father has bodyguards who follow me around as if I’m some sort of celebrity. And I suppose I am in a way.
Which brings me back to Seven Sins, the club I frequent with Amber. It’s the safest place in town because of the amount of security. And the anonymity allows me freedom to enjoy a glass of wine without being bombarded by the press.
I started going there a year ago, but since I first saw him six months ago, I’ve had another reason to go. When I saw him there tonight, I was sitting with Amber, and while she sat giggling about some guy, my eyes were locked on him. I watched as he moved through the crowd. His gaze flitting over to me every few moments. And then I saw him take a woman to the back of the club.
We all know what happens back there. Each room is filled with instruments that can bring pain or pleasure. Since I learned more about it, I’ve wanted to go back there, to experience it for myself. Perhaps the pain a man like him gives will allow me the release I crave. But for some reason, I’ve just never had the courage to go into those rooms, to ask a man to dole out pain I know will give me the reprieve I need.
The door to my bedroom flies open, and Hudson saunters in as if he owns the house, this room. He’s already dressed in a three-piece suit, and for a twenty-four-year-old guy, he looks far-too distinguished.
Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that he takes care of himself. But I want someone who’s rough around the edges. Someone who is almost as uncomfortable in a suit as he is comfortable in black leathers and ripped jeans.
A man.
Dangerous.
And perhaps deadly.
“Madi.” Hudson’s voice draws me back to the present, to my bedroom.
I scoot up in bed, my brows knitting in confusion. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s just left for the office. I thought I’d come up and say hi,” he tells me, settling on my bed. His hand reaches out for my leg and rests on my knee, giving it a playful squeeze. The gesture should be sweet, caring, but instead it makes me cringe.
“Won’t you be late to the office?”
He shakes his head, his eyes boring into me. “I figured we could get reacquainted.” He leans in closer, his mouth on mine in an instant. He dips his tongue between my lips. The kiss, although gentle, is not searing. There’s nothing behind it. It’s purely mechanical. I allow him to do what he needs as he pushes the blankets aside.
When he moves back to shove my legs apart, I see the wince on his face when he sees them. Those reminders of who I used to be. A teenager struggling with herself. A girl whose mother left her to fend for herself in a world of ruthless politics and a father who doesn’t care. When my father told me that she’d died on a cruise ship after having a heart attack, I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything for her.
“We don’t have to do this,” I tell him, knowing he hates imperfection. He doesn’t like seeing what I used to do to myself in the dark of night. No, Hudson wants someone who’s flawless. Too bad that’s not me. It never will be.
He looks at me like I’m nothing more than a means to an end, and in a way, I am. He settles himself between my thighs without any foreplay. There’s no need to get undressed, no need to see more of my flaws. He pulls out his already hard cock and shoves my panties aside. He doesn’t touch me. I’m not wet, and when he thrusts inside, it causes me to cry out, not in pleasure, but in searing pain.
He continues to move, sliding in and out of me. And with each thrust, my body slowly responds, growing slick for more, for something other than this cold, mechanical shit we do.
He grunts seconds later, then abruptly pulls out of me, his fist around his cock as he spurts his sticky release all over my thighs. I lie there, angry and unsatisfied as always. Hudson smirks, righting himself as he pulls two tissues from the box on my nightstand.
“That was amazing, baby.” He grins. “I have to go. I’ll be late.” With that, he turns, leaving me to clean up his filth.
Taking the tissues, I wipe myself down, frustrated from the asshole thinking he owns me. My father would be so happy to see us walk down the aisle. But I’ll never agree to it. Daddy may rule my life in most respects, but this is something I’ll refuse until I breathe my last breath.
Pushing off the bed, I head to the bathroom. I don’t want to get ready for the day ahead, but I’ll need to if my father flies out this week. There must be a schedule of public appearances waiting for me already.
Sighing, I turn on the shower, stepping under the warming spray. I hope the water can ease the tension in my muscles. I lather up with the orange blossom body wash, inhaling the sweet citrus scent.
The ache between my legs beckons, and I close my eyes, picturing the dark-haired man in his leather jacket. Those piercing eyes that remind me of a midnight sky, which bore deep within me. My fingers move over my clit, teasing and taunting it, and I wonder how his thick, calloused digits would feel as they explored me.
The smirk that curls his lips at times is at the forefront of my mind. Those dirty intentions that ghost along my flesh, his lips, his strong arms. “Oh god,” I whimper as an orgasm rakes through me, causing my knees to buckle.
When I open my eyes, I can’t help smiling. Somehow, I’ll seduce him. Maybe he likes the sweet, innocent look, or even the sultry vixen. I’ll find out soon enough.
Mr. Dark and Dangerous, I want you. I want you to show me how illicit you can be.
Callan
“The apartment is perfect,” I tell Rick. He doesn’t want me to move out, but it’s time I find my own space. He’s been putting me up along with Cayleigh, our sister, in his guest apartment, which is above Seven Sins.
Carrick owns one of the most elite BDSM clubs in Chicago, along with his friend, Mason. Both men have made a name for themselves, and I’m proud of Rick. I’m older by a year. Not much, but sometimes, I feel so out of touch with everything.
“You’re welcome to pay me the rent you’re about to give some other asshole, you know.” He chuckles, lifting the tumbler to his lips. The amber liquid shimmers in the yellow light. I watch it for a moment, lost in my own thoughts.
“Yeah, but I’d still be living in my baby brother’s building,” I bite back, but he knows I’m joking. He shakes his head, sighing at my stubbornness. It runs in the family. Perhaps it’s an Irish thing.
Even though our roots are firmly in Ireland, we grew up in London. Going back there isn’t an option for me, so I’ve decided to stay in Chicago with my brother and sister. After our little visit to Seamus Moran—the man who killed Cayleigh’s fiancé and Rick’s fiancée—there’s a hit on my head.
Not that I give a fuck. I’ll take the assholes down myself, but our father made it clear we’re to stay here until he can sort the fuckers out. Of course, I don’t mind because I’ll be here, in Rick's club where women are abundant and the alcohol flows freely.
“Fine. But, Cal, just watch yourself in the club. I really don’t need shit going down.” His warning doesn’t faze me. I know why he’s so wary. I’ve been known to cause a ruckus at times. But there’s a reason I’m dying to go downstairs, and Carrick knows it too.
“You know I’ll be on my best behavior, brother.” My response earns me a shrewd stare. He’s turned into a businessman. In the time I knew my brother, while we worked together, he was one of the only people in our father’s organization who didn’t enjoy his job.
Working for the Irish mob will do that to a man. You’ll end up hating the person you become if you don’t embrace it. Carrick never did. Me, on the other hand, I loved it.
“Yeah, I would hope so.”
“Come on, Rick. Cut me some slack.” I chuckle, landing my gaze on Carrick sitting in his large, black, leather office chair. Fit f
or a king. Peyton, his submissive is on his lap, twirling his tie with her delicate fingers.
“Fine, you’re welcome to play, but don’t fucking break hearts. And stay away from Madison Parker,” he grumbles. His hands stroke her slim thighs as he watches me with that perceptive glare.
Being older, I’ve always given him shit, but if there’s one thing I can say about Carrick, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. The business he started from scratch is booming, and he has a woman who loves him with her every breath. A pretty little blonde who’s got curves I wouldn’t mind taking for a test drive. Of course, she is my brother’s, and I don’t do shit like that. Not anymore.
“I don’t break anything, unless they ask, Rick,” I tell him. I rise from my seat and head to the door. “Oh, and one more thing,” I say as I stop at the door. “Congratulations on taking my advice, little brother,” I praise him, flicking my gaze over to Peyton.
They were on the outs not so long ago, and I told him to man-up and fight for her. I was in awe at how much she loved him, but when I saw my brother without her, I knew it wouldn’t work. He needed her as much as she wanted him. It made sense.
I’ve never been in love. I don’t think it’s an emotion worthy of my time. I just don’t want it. My kind of work doesn’t allow for it. So, I’ve become accustomed to playing with pretty toys until I have to move on. I told Rick I’d stay in Chicago for a little while longer, but my feet are itchy. I need to make a move.
I leave them in the office and make my way down to the main area of the club. It’s not what most people would think. It actually looks like an upmarket restaurant. If you walked in, you’d never guess what delicious delights went on behind closed doors.
The playrooms are off to the right. The bar sits smack-dab against the right wall as you enter the club. And the stage where performances take place is positioned in the center of a circle of booths. You can see it from the bar, but when it’s not lit up like it is now, you wouldn’t know it's anything out of the ordinary.
