by Dani René
“Please, please, please,” I plead, and my begging is more of a chant. A prayer to the devil himself to let me find heaven in the hell of our dimly lit room. But he merely smirks. He thrusts, plunging deeply into me. I feel him in my soul as he owns me in that moment, and when I open my eyes to meet his, I beg him to claim me.
“Do you want to come, sweet slut?” he taunts.
I nod, biting my lip to keep from coming too soon. I know men like this; if I do, he’ll punish me. And right now, this is all that I can take from him. He turns the dial up higher, sending me into orbit. Hanging on by a thread of sanity, my nails dig into the leather of the armrests of the chair, clawing my way from the dark hole of euphoria. I’m about to snap and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.
He spits on his index and middle fingers and I know what he’s about to do. Use me fully. His free hand moves to my ass, finding the tight ring of muscle there. I tense, but he lifts a brow in question. Do you not want me? I nod. We’re speaking to each other without words.
My legs are shaking as he teases the tight hole open, dipping into me, teasing me open. “I want this hole, too.” His smile is feral as he tells me this in a voice that isn’t his own. It’s the beast inside he’s unleashed on me. Two fingers fuck my ass deeper as his cock taunts my pussy. “Come. Come hard for me.” He finally gives me the words I’ve been praying for, and I do. My body convulses as I feel liquid squirt from my pussy. “Mm, a pretty squirting cunt.” He smiles in satisfaction as I drench him in my juices. That’s when his body locks and he fills me with his hot release. I can’t stop watching as pleasure paints his features. He’s handsome beyond reason. A beautiful dark angel. And I know that he’s taking more than my pleasure, he’s taking my body and mind, and if he really wants it, I’ll give him my heart.
“This is why you were meant to leave when your daddy died.”
His vile smirk is the only thing I can see. His face is so close to mine, I can smell the beer on his breath. The bitter malt he drinks reeks, his body swaying as he grips me harshly. He’s never done more than bat me around, and I know soon, he’ll lose control and really hurt me.
I’m fifteen. My dad died only six months ago and my mother returned to the home I shared with him, along with her filth of a boyfriend. They’ve taken over the house, left me to hide in the corners just to get away from them.
“You know,” he sneers. The piece of trash my mother’s been fucking regards me with hunger in his feral glare. “I wonder if you’re as filthy as your mother is. Do you watch me fuck her at night?” He chuckles, his spittle flying from cracked lips. How my mother even thought this man was better than my father in any way is beyond me.
“Just let me go, if I don’t get to school, they’ll call her and tell her.” I notice his eyes clearing as I say that. Thankfully, he releases me. When he steps back, I can finally breathe.
“When you get home this afternoon, you’re going to show me what’s under that little skirt. And don’t be late.” His mouth curls into a sadistic smirk and his hand grips his crotch lewdly. I have to race out the house just in time to retch my cereal all over the flowerbeds that sit outside the front door. I know he’s not lying when he says that’s what he wants. He’ll make me do it. And that’s what scares me.
My eyes crack open and I shake off the nightmare. That wasn’t the first or last time I was forced into a corner with the sick monster my mother brought home. I shove away the rest of the images that have haunted me for far too long and bring my mind back to the present.
My body is aching when I finally get up. Memories of last night taunt me and I find myself wet and needy. He left without telling me his name. After he’d come inside me, he closed the curtains to the viewing audience, lifted me in his arms and set me on the bed. Gently, he cared for me, stroking my hair, murmured how beautiful I was and then when I finally fell asleep in his arms, he left.
Carrick walked into the room, woke me up and told me that the man said I was exceptional. When I asked more about him, my best friend only glared at me. I want to find him, to know him, but if he doesn’t come into Seven Sins again, I have no idea how I’ll accomplish that. Since Rick doesn’t want to tell me who he is or even how I can contact him.
Pushing off the bed, I take in my apartment. The large penthouse is too big for me alone, but Carrick told me he’s not happy with me living in a pokey little one bedroom shoebox, so he put down enough rent for me for the year. Twelve months of freedom until I decide if I want to move on, or stay in Chicago.
As I head into the modern kitchen, the silver appliances, and white tiles blink at me in the soft light of sunshine that’s streaming through the windows. Once the coffee machine is turned on, I head to the living room to find my phone. No messages. No emails.
I left home at sixteen. After my father died, my mother stole everything from me. I was cast out like I wasn’t even her child. It hurt, but she’d never been loving toward me. So, I ran with nothing. When I bumped into Carrick at a club, he took one look at me and told me I was perfect. I didn’t know what he meant, but he was good to me. Fed me. Clothed me. And I begged him for more. In my teenage mind, I loved him. I gave him my body, my virginity. He took it the way I begged for it, hard and rough.
And when he spanked me, I pleaded for more. Over time, he taught me the beautifully erotic world he lived in. Leather, lace, chains, and wood. Whips and chains had never been so alluring.
The phone buzzes in my hand and I almost drop it. It’s Savannah. Swiping my thumb over the screen, I smile while answering. “Hey Bunny,” I giggle, using the nickname Mason gave her.
“Yeah, laugh it up, sweet girl,” she responds and I can hear the smile in her voice. “I wanted to know if you’d want to have a girl’s night tomorrow? My friend from school is in town and she’s new to Chicago.”
“Sounds like fun, I don’t think Rick has me on to work tomorrow anyway.”
“I’ll handle Carrick, you just need to worry about a sexy ass dress,” she says with confidence. I met her when I first walked into Seven Sins three years ago. It was the first time Rick allowed me into the club. Savannah is Mason’s submissive. And Mason is a sex god if ever I saw one. He is Carrick’s partner and the two of them have broken more hearts than I can count.
“You know I’m always up for spending time with you, Sav. What’s your friend’s name?” I ask while filling my mug with hot coffee, the rich, chocolatey scent taunting my taste buds.
“Peyton, she’s gorgeous, I’m tempted to set her up with Rick,” she confesses in a whisper. I never thought of Carrick being with anyone. He’s too much of a playboy. Even after all these years, I still feel a twinge of regret that he didn’t want me. Granted, he’s amazing in bed, but for a long time I thought I was in love with him.
Nodding to myself, I realize Sav is waiting for my input. “Yeah right. You know that man can’t stick to one woman. He’s a glutton for them,” I respond, sipping the dark liquid.
“This is true,” she sighs in frustration. If there was death by sin, Carrick would be killed for gluttony. He devours women like a predator eating its prey. And the terrible thing is, they want it. “Okay, so tomorrow, seven?” Savannah’s soft voice comes from the other end of the line.
“Perfect, I’ll go shopping for a new dress,” I tell her excitedly. She laughs, knowing that when I shop, I don’t stop until I’m passed out under all the bags.
“I can’t wait to see that gorgeous body hugged in a tight spandex.” She giggles at that, and I can’t help shaking my head. There’s one thing about Savannah; she loves women as much as Carrick does, and Mason loves to share her with other submissives. I wonder how having an open relationship like that can work. Perhaps my jealousy holds me back from experiencing that, but deep down, if a man wants me, I have to be the only one he has. No sharing. It’s too humiliating to me watching my man with someone else. Now, all I need to do is find said man.
“Okay, Bunny, go please your man, I need to get ready fo
r the day,” I tell her, padding back to the bedroom.
“Later, sweet girl,” she says, hanging up.
I make my way straight to the closet to find something presentable to wear tonight. I’m working for a few hours, so I’ll need something elegant. There are dresses overflowing my closet all courtesy of Carrick. My boss for all intents and purposes.
One day, when he does finally find a girl, she’ll be one lucky submissive. He’s got a big heart, big wallet, and a huge cock. Giggling, I shake my head and pull out the long silver gown. My mind flits back to the man from last night. As much as I try pushing him from my mind, I wonder if he’ll be there tonight. And as I get my clothes ready, I know I’m going to dress for him.
3
Nate
The early morning sunlight streams through the windows of my office. My mind isn’t here, it’s still in that room with her. I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. It’s done. I’m off the hook and I can move on, but I don’t want to. When I left her last night, I told Carrick to look after her. I’d covered her in a blanket, wrapping her up after she’d fallen asleep.
Her body, her curves, the way her lips felt when I pressed a kiss to her mouth before I walked out without looking back. My chest aches, it fucking hurts, and even in the agony, I can’t help smiling when I think about her. I’m turning into a fucking pussy.
My mind races with ideas, how I can get one more night. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt. Would it? There wasn’t any stipulation in the agreement that said I couldn’t have a second taste. I’d finished what I set out to do. And if my benefactor never finds out, then it wouldn’t hurt.
When I left Seven Sins after our scene, I walked out already needing to go back in and take her again, which isn’t like me. I’m a one night, one scene man. I don’t return to the same submissives. I’ve made the mistake before, when I got attached to a particular slave for two long years. I kept going back, requesting her. I became addicted. She became needy and greedy for my time. Wanted something I could never offer her. Not in the world I live.
Love.
I’ve never been a one-woman man. They hate me for it, but that’s not my problem. I’m too tempted by what I need. Too fucking twisted up in my own dark to drag Eva into it, but one more scene wouldn’t make a difference. She’ll be like every other slave I’ve played with. Fucking her out of my mind is one way of doing it, and if I degrade her enough, perhaps she’ll hate me and it will be easier to walk away.
But last night was something else. Even as I take in the city below me, she’s the only thing that’s on my mind. All morning I’ve been at war with myself, convincing myself that it was a one off, but I’m a greedy man. Over the years my obsession, my dependence isn’t far. My personality gives way to addiction easily. And deep down, I can’t shake the need to know her. This is all going to blow up in my face, I know it, but I want her again.
With my mind made up that one more night will be what I need to get her out of my system, I pick up my phone, and hit dial on Carrick’s number. We’ve known each other for a long time. I was the one who helped him when he needed the finance for the club, and when I made the move to Chicago to work with Asher, he was my point of call for help with my gambling addiction. Carrick’s been a foundation, a friend, and I know he’s someone I can trust with my life.
Four rings, and I’m about to hang up when I hear the familiar click. “Nathan, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sly bastard answers in his thick English accent heavy with a smirk in his tone. Even though he’s lived in America for almost ten years, he’s never lost that lilt to his voice. Perhaps that’s why women fall over their Louboutin’s to get into his bed.
“Give me her number, Rick,” I order, not bothering with greeting him, but all I receive is a chuckle. The man is an asshole when he wants to be, and he’s fucking good at it. I’ve become accustomed to his personality and he to mine. That’s why our friendship works. It’s honest and brutal, just the way I like everything in my life.
“Why would I do a thing like that, Nate?”
“I want her. One more night.” He doesn’t respond, then I feel the vibration of my phone against my ear. When I pull it away, I notice a message from him.
“One night. If you hurt her…” He doesn’t finish his sentence but I know what he wants to say. It’s in his tone. If I hurt her, he’ll kill me. Somehow, I don’t doubt that. I’ve never asked about his background or why he left London, I don’t want to know. But I know that it must have been something dangerous, there’s just an air about Carrick Anderson that screams danger.
“Thank you, Rick. I owe you,” I say, hanging up before he can respond with how much I probably do. When I open his message, I save her number on my phone. Sweet Slut. Even as I type the name I can still taste her sweetness on my tongue, my lips. Opening the message app, I tap out an order without giving her my name. That she’ll learn when I see her again. For now, the mystery is more exciting. Anticipation. The crux of our world. I hit send and wait.
Me: Sweet Slut, I’d like to take you for dinner, for dessert I’ll show you my dungeon. This isn’t a request. It’s an order.
I don’t wait long for a response, and what I get in return makes me smile. I’m grinning like a fool.
Sweet Slut: Yes, Sir.
Two words and this woman owns me more than I can ever imagine owning her. I never thought I’d see the day that I’d even consider wanting to take a woman again and again, but with Eva, I feel that may very well happen. I’m playing with fire, I’m about to get burned, but I can’t stop myself from diving into the flames.
I knew she wouldn’t deny me. She can’t. After the way she looked at me last night, I saw it flicker in her eyes. Need. That same dark desire that sets my soul alight danced in her blue orbs.
Me: Good girl. I want to watch you get dressed. Send me your address. I’ll be there at five thirty.
Once her response comes through, I commit it to memory. Then, I turn to my computer in an attempt to focus on work. I have two new clients I need to get feedback to in the next few days. I pull up the documents detailing Mr. Grendall’s finances. He’s hoping to apply for finance which will see him setting out on a new business venture with his partner. The concern is his bank balance. This is where I step in. When he fired his previous accountant and contacted me, I agreed to work with him on this.
I need to focus. Going through all his financial transactions for the past five years. My eyes roam the figures on screen, but the only figure that’s on my mind is the one of the woman who’s caught my attention.
The day at the office didn’t go as planned.
Yes, I attended meetings.
Yes, I impressed clients, but that’s not where I want to be.
Every inch of my body aches to be inside Eva. Running my fingers through my unruly dark brown hair, I glance in the rear-view mirror of my Mercedes, and notice my eyes are swirling with lust, already hungry for her.
All day I planned, plotted, and I’ve figured out how to get her out of my system. We’ll play a scene, one where she’ll never be able to look at me with respect again. But before I do that, I’ll take her to dinner. One date where I’ll challenge her, tease her, and enjoy her. I’ll make sure she knows who I am and make certain she won’t forget me because I know without a doubt I’ll never forget her. Once I walk away, it will be goodbye.
When I reach the door of her apartment at exactly five-thirty, I knock once and wait. I hear a shuffle from the other side and then the click of the lock. A soft whoosh sounds as she opens the door and I’m met with those blue piercing eyes.
“Hello.” Her voice is timid, and a soft blush paints her cheeks a rosy hue, cherries and innocence. A deadly combination of submissive sensuality and alluring beauty.
“Sweet slut,” I murmur. I reach for her hand, tugging her close to me. I lean in and my lips find her cheek. I plant a tender kiss on the smooth skin of her cheek, which only serves to entice me more. Her body visibly shudders and
she presses herself closer to me. Her heat warms me like I’m standing in front of a fire. “Do you like me calling you that?” I question, glancing down at her and meeting those blue pools. Her breath fans over my face as she peeks up at me under dark lashes, almost mocha in color. Against her tanned skin, she looks like a vision sent from heaven to drag me out of hell, only, I know there’s no help for me.
“Perhaps,” she quips. It’s playful, bratty, and it makes my palm itch to spank her ass. A memory slams into me, one from last night when I spanked her. Those smooth fleshy globes of silky skin marked red with my hand print.
“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” I warn, lowering my voice. As she steps aside, allowing me into her personal space, I take in my fill of the apartment she calls home. “Did Carrick tell you to allow me in?”
“He may have mentioned that you’re a friend and not a serial killer.” She smiles, glancing at me with amusement.
“I may not be a serial killer, but I can be dangerous.”
“Only to my body,” she responds with a light tone, as if she’s holding back excitement, perhaps a laugh. I follow her through the living room, finding that it’s spacious. I wonder how she can afford a place like this. This block of apartments isn’t cheap. Then it dawns on me. There’s no way she’s paying for this.
She leads me down a long hallway, lit only by the small downlights in the ceiling. A yellow glow that’s reminiscent to candlelight. When we reach her bedroom, I can’t help my surprise to find it neat and tidy. Most young women can be messy, unless she’s tidied it up knowing I’ll be entering her sacred space. There’s a queen-size bed with dark blue sheets, almost midnight in color, reminding me of the inky sky. Her shoes are set out at the foot end, silver sandals with a slight heel.
