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Alphas of Sin

Page 55

by Anthology


  She sighed, motioning for me to go ahead. As soon as I turned, I heard the rustle of her gown and the door open. I flung my mask off and turned, but she was gone. Rushing out, I flew down the stairs and searched everywhere for her. She’d disappeared on me, again.

  Only this time, she meant so much more than she had in the store.

  I had to find her.

  FELICIA TATUM

  Felicia Tatum was born and raised in Tennessee. She always loved reading, and at the age of twelve began writing. Her passion for creating stories grew and in May 2012, she finally wrote her first novel, The White Aura.

  She still lives in Tennessee with her daughter and her kitty. She loves cooking, books, and animals are some of her best friends. She watches a lot of Disney channel and often dreams up new book ideas. She's currently working on various projects, including the rest of the White Aura Series, the Scarred Hearts Series, and a novella series. Her dream is to write as many books as possible while entertaining as many people as possible.

  Website: www.feliciatatum.com

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/DkPmr

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/feliciatatumwriter

  THE GATE KEEPER ~ ALICE K. WAYNE

  November 2008

  Mikayla was giddy with excitement. It was Tuesday, and that meant that tonight, all night, she was his.

  As she haphazardly threw her school clothes off, she thought about how much she had missed him since Thursday. For those two days a week, she was his alone, and despite her best efforts, nothing else in her life made her feel as good.

  Her heart skipped a beat just thinking about it. The way he commanded her, the way she had learned to trust him, the way they seemed to fit together so perfectly when they were in the moment.

  Two pieces of a forbidden puzzle that should never have been, yet here they were, and she was powerless to stop it.

  She buttoned tight little jeans that showed off her ass, and pulled on a low cut shirt, all the while, wondering what his face looked like.

  As much as her friends had warned her about getting caught up with these men, her customers, something about him was just… different.

  She had been camming for less than a year, but she had hated it. Every night it stung her pride and made her regret her decision to do it, but the money was just too good to turn away from. Unless she wanted to actually start prostituting herself, this was the best it was going to get for her.

  One year of camming at the current rate she made would pay for the rest of her stay at university until she graduated. She could achieve her degree without being bogged down my thousands of dollars in student loan debt.

  According to the state, her family made too much money for her classes to be completely taken care of, and she was too young to sign on for a loan as large as she needed without her mother cosigning for her.

  Her mother was the majority of the reason why she was in the mess she was in. She drank away all of her father’s pension and every other dollar she came across. She had never saved a dime for Mikayla's college education, and even if she could be tracked down somewhere, she didn't care in the least about her daughter’s financial woes. All she cared about, was how she was going to get to the bottom of her next bottle.

  She was a foul creature who’s neglectful, and sloth like attitude had done nothing but hinder her, her entire life. She didn't want to work, she didn't want to do anything, but drink herself to death, a feat that was truly shocking that she hadn't achieved already.

  Sometimes, all the time, she wished that her father was still alive. Life before his death was picture perfect, almost something out of a movie.

  But Mikayla wouldn’t dwell on that, not tonight. Not when he was somewhere out there waiting on her.

  She shivered again.

  Maybe his mystery was why she was so hopelessly attracted to him. Though they spent countless hours together discussing feelings, opinions and thoughts, venting about their lives, he still refused to show himself to her.

  His deal was that he would only show himself, if she took off the mask she always wore, and showed herself as well. It was a deal she couldn’t agree to.

  She picked up the black satin mask she always wore, and rubbed the soft material between her fingers.

  Every night she put it on, even with him. It seemed a little silly, when she thought about it. Even if someone did recognize her face, who would actually care?

  The only members of her family beside her mother, had all passed away. She had lost touch with all of her high school friends except for Quentin, who was camming right alongside her.

  So really, what the hell did she care for?

  She did care though. For some reason, she felt like the mask was almost a shield, giving her distance from what she was actually doing. As if when she wore it she became someone else.

  It wasn’t Mikayla Jones fingering herself on camera for money, oh no, that was that other girl; the one who would do anything for money, anything to keep going and survive.

  Anything to claw her way out of the hell she had come from.

  Separating herself from what was happening around her was one of Mikayla’s specialties. Her mother’s drunken rages and messes were legendary, and so she would think about being in a movie, or the main character of a book, and take her mind far away from whatever she was going through.

  As soon as she opened her account online, her eyes immediately scrolled through everyone on to find his screen name. Her heart skipped a beat to see that he was already there.

  As was their normal routine, they barely spoke until they went off into a private chat room just for the two of them.

  For a long moment he didn’t type anything, and her anticipation grew, her nerves growing taut.

  She had waited days for this, and he knew it. He teased her often, always testing his power and control over her.

  Though he was paying her, and more importantly, though she enjoyed it, she never let him have too much.

  It wasn’t in her nature to be totally submissive. Compromising? Yes. Conquerable? Yes. But a slave?

  Not Mikayla Jones.

  Maybe that was why he enjoyed her so much. Perhaps he didn't want someone to lay down at his feet and whimper like a dog, maybe he wanted someone he had to catch for himself, and train to be his alone.

  Out of a thousand other cam girls, he chose her, every time. There had to be a reason for that.

  Neither of them would ever deny that they had amazing chemistry, but for her, she felt there had to be more to the story. She needed more.

  It sounded stupid, even to her, but she had completely romanticized the situation in her mind. Perhaps she had to, in order for it to make some sort of semblance of sense, everything about it was well and truly fucked up.

  She noticed that he was typing and her mouth went dry. What would he have her do?

  Even though he claimed to be the same age as her, she always envisioned him as a knowledgeable older man. Someone who had slept with hundreds of women, and knew things about pleasure that guys her age couldn’t possibly.

  In her mind she envisioned a Sauvé man in his late thirties, always dressed in a suit and smelling of the sweetest cherry tobacco. She imagined them together in a darkened room, him looming above her in a large leather chair, while she shivered below, patiently awaiting what he would have her do.

  “Strip to your bra and panties,” came the text from him.

  She stood slowly, and did her best not to show her excitement. As always she didn’t want him to know the hold he had over her, didn’t want him to know that she wanted this, almost more than he did.

  Life had taught her to always be the flame, and never the moth.

  Her jeans slid slowly off her rounded hips, and the soft little bump of her ass. She made sure to arch her back for him and let him have the full view of every curve. There wasn't much teasing that she could do back to him, but what she could do, she did.

  Her shirt came off with the same level
of slow seduction, dragging across her skin and the mounds of her breasts.

  He had taught her how to do this; how to tease him, to make him wait for it, the same way he teased her. Through their short interaction, he had taught her so many sexual things about herself, and was responsible for so many of her sexual discoveries, that she almost considered him to be the gatekeeper to her adult sexuality.

  She stood before the camera with her hands at her sides, knowing that he would want her to wait to touch herself, and would punish her if she did it without his permission. One of his favorite things to do, was to test her patience. How long would she stand there, doing what he liked? Would she break free and give herself pleasure, and face the consequences after?

  This knowledge both excited and infuriated her. She was wild, strong and independent, it drove her insane thinking that she had been trained so easily by someone. Especially this… stranger. She had never even seen his face, yet he held such a strong hold over her.

  It didn’t make sense; over and over the paradox ran through her mind. It didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t stop herself. She loved it, no matter how much she hated that she loved it.

  “Sit on your knees, and put your fingers in your mouth,” came his quick response to her obedience.

  She adjusted the angle of the camera so that it would be looking down on her, and simulate the way she would look if it was his cock in her mouth, instead of her own fingers.

  Licking them first, she kept her eyes on the camera. He loved to see her eyes looking up at him.

  Once they were wet, she stuck her index and ring finger as far into her mouth as she could, and moaned while she did it. She wasn't just putting on a show for him, she enjoyed the feeling, and imagining that they were his fingers instead of hers.

  She could never quite be sure what turned her on more, the fact that she was pleasing him, or how sexy it made her feel to have him watch her like this.

  No matter the reason, she loved it, and with more vigor she sucked them, moaning all the while, until another text came through from him.

  “Gag on them,” he wrote, and she smiled around her fingers.

  He loved the sound of her gagging, probably envisioning her choking on his own cock while he stroked himself for her. She thought about how big and thick he would be, filling her throat as she sucked him hard, and it only made her wetter.

  “Are you touching yourself to me yet?” she asked, waiting for his answer before she would do anything else he asked of her.

  Every once in a while, she liked to challenge him like this. It was her own little personal reminder to him that she was not a mindless slave, that she had the ability to challenge him, and that she would do so when she felt like it.

  “Yes,” he responded quickly, and she felt that she must be annoying him just a little bit.

  Good, she smiled again, and then stuck her fingers farther down her throat, until she made the noise that he craved.

  This went on for a few moments until a new message came in from him.

  “Now that they’re nice and wet, lay down and finger yourself,” he wrote, and she lay back on the floor, sliding her hand underneath her panties.

  It was ridiculous to think, but it was almost as if she could feel his gaze on her, and it made her all the hotter for it.

  Lifting her hips off of the floor she rubbed herself quickly, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he forced her to either stop or slow down. He loved to edge her, until she felt like she would utterly lose control of her body.

  He would let her get so close to orgasming she could feel the beginning tingles of muscle spasms, just seconds before she would be willing to trade anything in the world just to cum, at right at that moment, he would cruelly tell her to stop.

  She had no idea how he could tell she was so close just from her expression on a web cam, but as soon as she got too near, just like clockwork, he called the order for her to stop.

  “Pull your hand away, and put it to the side,” he commanded, and she knew if she didn’t do it the moment she read it, her punishment would be severe.

  Panting, with her body tingling terribly, she ripped her hand away, against every ache and instinct she possessed, she put his command first.

  It was so unlike anything she usually stood for, but she knew with one hundred percent certainty that he would give her an amazing orgasm, all she needed to do, was trust in his judgement, and follow his lead. He had never failed to give her one, and seemed to genuinely care if she got off, unlike any of her other customers.

  As embarrassing as it was to say, this “invisible man” had given her the best sex of her life, without ever even touching her.

  Not that she would ever admit it to him, his ego seemed so out of control already. She had made the mistake of telling him once how much she enjoyed their time together, and it only seemed to grow exponentially from there.

  For the sake of her pride, she would keep her feelings on that to herself.

  * * *

  Tomás Ramírez had waited all day to be with her. All week really.

  Fuck it, he had probably waited his entire life. He had waded through a sea of shallow, self orbiting people, who couldn’t wait to drag you down to hell with them, and after dealing with them for so long, she was finally his reward.

  The most beautiful jewel he had ever found, and she was all his.

  Several more times he had her touch herself, and pull away until he knew she couldn’t take anymore, and he was right behind her.

  She needed the anticipation, the wait and torment, and he loved to give it to her. The longer they had done this together, the more he noticed her needs and found ways to provide them.

  Several times he would have her do things, and earn orgasms, and never even bother touching himself.

  It was ludacris that he would pay a cam girl just so she could get off, and he didn't, but she was more than just a cam girl to him now, she was his.

  He was an artist, and she would be his greatest canvas, and sometimes the artist had to do things that weren't in his own best interest, but were for the betterment of his craft.

  When he finally let her orgasm, she was a sweaty, shaky mess, and he loved her for it. Being able to give someone so much pleasure was an adrenaline rush he had never felt before, and now he was wholly addicted to it.

  Never again would he take a back seat like a spoiled adolescent and let a woman do all the work to please him. From now on, he would want to be the one driving the pleasure, he wanted her to cum for him, and because of him.

  A few minutes passed and she came down from the high of her orgasm, sat up, and pulled a Star Wars blanket around herself. Sometimes they would go again, and sometimes not, it all depended on what they needed.

  Tonight, he just needed her special brand of love, which was always somewhere firmly in the middle of being completely in love with him, and nearly killing him.

  Which side of that spectrum she leaned towards, always depended on him, and what he had to say for himself.

  Tonight, he didn’t have much hope that he would leave the situation unscathed.

  “So how are things on your end?” she asked, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, “How did the court date go?”

  Because Tomás had decided to misplace the trust in his life, he had ended up being arrested more than once, and dragging his family name through the mud. He was now, officially, the fuck up of his family. Something that both of his older brothers, and all of his cousins had avoided being.

  Apparently they were all a lot smarter than he was.

  Today’s court case had been for driving under the influence. Tomás wasn’t even legally allowed to drink in this country, but with enough money, and with his family name, any club in Miami would let him do whatever he wanted to avoid problems.

  Last year he was trying to impress a lingerie model five years older than him, so not only did he lie about his age and drink at the club, but he also tried to act super cool and
like the alcohol hadn’t gotten to his head, and offered her a ride home in his older brothers Jag.

  Police were waiting at the end of the block pulling over cars at random for breathalyzer checks as people left the clubs, and as his luck always went, he and his date were pulled over.

  Not only did he have to face the police, and the absolute wrath of his parents, but he also had to endure the embarrassment of the police asking his date why a twenty-five-year-old woman was out partying with a nineteen-year-old kid.

  The look of scorn that crossed her face was enough punishment to last him the rest of his life.

  It however, had only lasted long enough for him to discover his family’s disapproval and disappointment.

  That was the biggest consequence of all. He would take community service or jail time any day over what his parents could do to him. In a family like his, he would truly be lucky if he managed to escape with his life.

  Tomas Ramirez was the youngest son to the Ramirez crime syndicate, one of the three crime families that ran Miami; and when your family business was crime, the last thing you wanted was a deadbeat son who dragged your name through the mud.

  His two older brothers, while not perfect by any means, were shining examples of perfect sons in comparison to him.

  Santiago, the oldest son, would take over the entire family organization in a decade or so, and was constantly being trained to be a perfect leader. He was always calm, cool and collected... the silent killer. If he didn’t look so damn menacing, no one would ever see him coming.

  His middle brother Mateo, was the true charmer of the three of them. No matter how angry his parents got at his easy going attitude, he knew just how to relax them. Of course, he had never done anything half as bone headed as getting a DUI, or getting caught with club drugs on him... or getting arrested because he was high on coke and got into a fist fight with a bouncer at a club.

  No, only Tomas was dumb enough to do any of those things.

  Mateo was also much better with women than either of them. He was beginning to develop a reputation for being a playboy, but it wasn’t in full effect yet, and hadn't deterred any women from wanting to be with him.

 

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