Ain't Your Bitch (Interracial Urban Erotica)

by Asia Marquis

  "You're up."

  Isaiah was the one who had spoken, and he offered his hand to help her up off the mattress. She ignored it and tried to stand on her own. Her legs were wobbly, but she wasn't about to accept his help. Not from a—a monster, she mentally filled in. She couldn't bring herself to think it.

  Somehow in the light of day the terror that had gripped her the night before seemed less real, as if she had been imagining the whole thing from the beginning. The fact that she hadn't woken up in her own bed, and that these two were here, that was the only reason she didn't think the whole thing had been some sort of surreal nightmare.

  "I want to go home."

  "You know we can't just let you go home," Isaiah said softly. "It's not safe."

  "You should let her go," Jason added, his sarcastic tone sounding almost practiced. "She'll just do what she wants to do, in the long run."

  "Exactly."

  "Well, we're going to deal with Victor, and you're coming with us."

  "No." Sarah felt as if she was gaining steam, and soon she was going to blow her lid and they were going to finally see what she was capable of. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You can't even leave, can you? You'll burn up in the sun!"

  Isaiah pulled the sunglasses away from his eyes and blinked the sun out of his eyes. But in the end he was there, looking at her, the way that she realized immediately that she should have expected from the beginning. If he had to hide during the day, then he wouldn't have been standing in the main room at all.

  "If you're going to come with us even for a few minutes, to take care of one vampire, you should know at least a little. They heal pretty fast. Faster than you expect. But they can be killed, more or less the same ways as people can be. They don't like light, but don't be an idiot. The stories aren't exactly the most accurate source of information. Unless you think that he'll glitter if you expose him to light, too?"

  Jason snorted at the joke, and Isaiah's head turned subtly to acknowledge it.

  "Fine." Sarah sighed in frustration, hoping to seem as if she had resigned herself to her fate. If they weren't going to let her go, then it was just a matter of time until she could lose them in the craziness.

  The one thing that she was sure of, though, was that they were absolutely crazy, and she needed to get away as soon as possible. Then Isaiah reached out and grabbed her hand.

  The feeling of his skin against hers reminded her of the night before. The way that he'd laid her down, then what had come after, the ecstasy that he'd shown her…

  She closed her eyes. She couldn't have this kind of craziness. Couldn't deal with the baggage that they came with, no matter how they looked. No matter how they made her feel.

  Someone else, some day, would come along and she'd wonder why she had ever thought that Isaiah and Jason were so breathtakingly good-looking. Only… they'd both been interested in her. At least, they'd talked to her, and kissed her, and saved her life. How many other men were going to be able to stand up to that comparison?

  She let them pull her into a car and drive her along the streets, but her mind was somewhere else. There had to be a way to have it both ways. Maybe they could be cured? But how? And how would it affect their work? Would they even agree to something like that? Would they thank her?

  She tried to stop that line of thinking. There was no future with these two, she told herself. Nothing to look forward to, so there was no reason to try to think too hard about "saving" them, either from their curse or from anything else, for that matter.

  As long as she was with them, she was in danger. She repeated it to herself again to make sure that it stuck. The car slowed to a stop and then Jason was coming around to open her door and offering a hand to help her up out of the back seat.

  She didn't know how long they'd been driving, but it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. It was amazing that houses like this existed so close to the city. She'd thought most people lived in those little suburban homes, or apartments if they wanted to live downtown, but never something… this size.

  The three of them walked around the estate in a group, Jason's arm intwined with her own. When she followed the line of their eyes, she saw a back door, almost hidden from view. They started to walk, pulling her along with them.

  The door was large and heavy. She could tell more from the sound of it when it closed than any struggle on Isaiah's part when he opened it. It seemed to open easily and moved silently until it closed behind them with a dull thump.

  If the outside wasn't misleading, the place was at least three stories tall. It looked as if there were two wings of the house, which was absurd. Who could possibly need so many rooms for themselves?

  "Should we split up? It'd be better if we caught Victor before he caught wind that we're inside."

  Isaiah seemed to weigh the options for a moment before nodding.

  "You take the east wing, I'll take Sarah with me to the west wing."

  "Wait," she cut in, sensing an opportunity. "What if he's in the basement? You can see the stairs leading down right there."

  She pointed them out. Sure as can be, there was a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. It seemed exceedingly unlikely that anyone was down there, she thought. She hoped.

  Again, Isaiah seemed to take a long moment to contemplate whether or not it would help, and the expression on his face seemed to suggest that he was going to refuse. Then, at the last moment, he nodded.

  "Good thinking." Sarah smiled to herself. That was all she needed. A chance to get away from them both. Once she went down a little ways, and they went their own separate ways, she could double back and be out of there lickity-split. "But you don't have a way to get in touch with us. If you find anything—I mean anything, Sarah—you scream and you come running. Is that clear?"

  Sarah blinked to cover her eyes involuntarily rolling. As if she was going to run into anything in a darkened basement. "Of course."

  "Good. Be safe, both of you. I don't need this turning into trouble."

  "Or what, you'll suck my blood?"

  Isaiah's jaw twitched. She'd hit a nerve. Sarah tried not to let her pleasure show on her face. "Just stay safe, alright?"

  "You got it, Dracula." Another twitch, this one stronger. She struggled to bite back a smile.

  "Get to it," he growled, turning on his heel and not waiting for a response.

  Jason's gaze lingered on her for a long moment. He seemed almost like he wanted to say something. Then he, too, was going. She thought she saw him looking back to check on her as she turned to go down the steps, but then she was around the corner and headed down.

  It was a long staircase, and Sarah was beginning to realize that this was no average basement. After the first few steps her eyes started acclimating to the darkness, but it was still surprisingly difficult to see. She couldn't make out the bottom of the steps until she was nearly halfway down, and well more than twenty feet into the darkness.

  She'd made a mistake, she realized. If there was any place that he'd be, it would be down here. She turned to look back up the steps. It was only a little way back, and she'd be free and clear by now. She took a tentative step back up.

  A sound made her stop. What was that? She didn't want to know,didn't want to think about what it could possibly be making a noise behind her. She strained her ears to hear, but no noise came. Sarah shut her eyes and tried to be reasonable, taking another ginger step up.

  The noise came again, clear as can be. Something behind her, and closer than the last time. She needed to leave. A sick feeling filled her; a feeling that if she didn't get out now, she wasn't going to get out at all.

  Going back up was harder than coming down. Her breaths came in short puffs as she moved as fast as she could up the darkened stairs. Every single step she raised her knees higher than she thought she needed to. The terrified feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she couldn't afford to miss a step, to stumble on the lip.

  The doorway was getting closer.
Closer. Any second now she would be up and into the sunlight. She'd be a short run to the outside, and then she'd be out.

  Passing through the threshold and into the light of the morning sun was like being born again, the feeling of all her terror starting to slough off. Whatever was down there had gotten close. She'd felt it, heard the steps coming impossibly closer.

  She didn't have time to enjoy the feeling, though. She needed to be gone, now. The feeling of relief was almost palpable. She was almost free, finally. Then a pair of powerful arms wrapped around her, squeezing the breath out of her.

  Sarah tried to struggle to turn around, to see who had grabbed her, but the arms held her fast. Deep down, she knew. It was him. Victor. He'd come and grabbed her. How stupid could she have been to assume that she was safe? She'd known that she was in the house of a monster. A man who was powerful both politically and physically.

  She'd assumed that Isaiah or Jason would have found him, though. That they would have done what they claimed to do best. They'd sounded so certain of their plan that as he pulled her back, down the steps, into the darkness, it almost didn't seem real.

  Her eyes hadn't begun adjusting to the darkness when the arms loosened and another door closed, shutting off any but a tiny sliver of light from beneath the crack. Sarah was left in the dark, and the only thing that she was sure of was what was going to happen next.

  She felt his mouth on her neck, felt the scrape of his teeth against her flesh, but he didn't bite down. Not right away. She shivered at the sensation, at the pleasure that it sent through her in spite of her terror.

  She could almost make out the outline of his hands in the darkness as thin fingers started to work the buttons of her blouse, one by one. She tried to fight, but he was too strong. His body pressed against hers, the feeling of cloth against her skin, goosebumps raised from the cold and the fear that held her.

  His lips came down on her throat again, and the sharp, sweet pleasure of the kiss was inescapable once more. She wanted him to… she tried not to think it. Tried to put the thought out of her mind, but as his teeth sank in, it didn't seem to hurt the way that she'd expected. No, it felt… almost good.

  She let out an unsteady breath as her blood started to flow into his waiting mouth. His hands moved across her body, probing and touching and feeling. Sarah's body involuntarily pressed back against him, unconsciously daring him to do whatever he wanted. To take whatever he wanted.

  Sarah let her eyes slip shut again as the strange feeling of peace settled over her. Whatever he wanted, that was right. That was what she wanted. She just wanted to go home. He would let her go, she knew. As soon as he was finished. She could wait just a little bit longer.

  The door slammed open. Isaiah came first, with Jason quickly on his heels. Sarah laid on a counter in a daze, only barely lifting her head to see what was happening. She smiled at them. They were very good looking boys, she thought.

  It had been a long day, and she wanted to go home now. The taller one, Isaiah, spoke first.

  "What happened?"

  Sarah smiled at him. Always worrying. His face was so serious. She just wanted to go back to sleep now. She let her eyes close. A stinging slap came across her face and another voice, Jason's, was shouting that she couldn't go to sleep. But she could. And as the sounds of the world drifted slowly away, she did.

  Taken By The Alpha

  A Beast's Bride

  Wren Winter

  The girl with the blue ribbon in her hair. She's the most popular dancer here. When she steps onto the stage, every man in the room has their eyes on some part of her body. Maybe it's her tight ass, or her slender legs. Maybe it's the way her breasts give way to a thin waist that's been trained by a corset. Whatever it is, she is not the kind of woman that can be ignored.

  As she removes her white blouse, she reveals the blue silky bra beneath. Anabelle Richter, the daughter of a man unknown and a mother of ill repute, has taken what her parents gave her and made the best of it. She never had a real home or family to guide her, but still she has a reason to dance. She needs to pay for college.

  Bright red fingernails, carefully manicured, unbutton her blue silk skirt and let it drop before bending over. Her ass cheeks jiggle. Every man in the room breathes in. She arches her back and stands up again. Every man in the room breathes out. Her movements become the only thing the men breathe for.

  Dancing 4 hours a night brings in plenty of money, money she needs to afford her small apartment, food and tuition. That's all she cares about.

  Some women ask her if she feels dirty or like a slut. The truth is, Belle is a virgin, and she doesn't mind showing off her body at all. She worked hard for her strong stomach and sculpted legs. No, there will be no regrets years from now when she's running a business. She does what she has to do.

  She wraps her leg around the pole, arching her back as she spins down it. In the audience, 30 men watch as they sip alcoholic drinks. 5 of those men work together, celebrating their boss's birthday with a lap dance before 4 of them would go home to their wives.

  Their boss, however, has no one to go home to. His piercing green eyes stay fixed on Belle's porcelain skin, his mouth open slightly in awe.

  "Hey, I think that's the girl," one of his employees say. He breaks his gaze away from the beauty on stage long enough to give the man an angry look.

  "Well, get your dollars out, men. Let's see if she'll come down to us," another one says with a laugh in his voice. Their boss, Jack Roman, sighs in anger. It's true, he does want to see more of her body, but he doesn't want to share with the assholes he's sharing his night with.

  Jack is a hopeless romantic, and of course he believes in love at first sight. There's no doubt in his mind that's what this is. Pure love, for this brown haired beauty. Jealousy is bubbling up into angry hatred for every other man here watching Belle dance and strip.

  Jack also has a secret, though. A secret that means he should be alone for the rest of his life. Sure, he may be friends with the people he employs, but even they keep a safe distance from him. Even the women who seem to thrive on danger avoid him. Despite his good looks and his wealth, Jack has had only a few willing lovers.

  Belle sees the men in Jack's party waving money for her, and she knows what she has to do. Sauntering down the steps in her stiletto shoes, which are blue and soft to match her outfit, she makes her way to the group.

  "Our boss is turning 37 today!" one shouts. Belle raises her eyebrows with a smile.

  "Which one is the birthday boy?"

  All 4 men point to Jack, who is glowering with embarrassment and rage. What a horrible way to meet the woman of your dreams, and then to have her give you a lap dance!

  Leaning over, Belle's mouth comes close to Jack's ear. "Happy birthday, big man."

  Pure animal lust courses through his body as her breasts press against his should softly, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she stands back up. She turns around, her back and ass facing him now as she shimmies for the rest of the audience. It's not easy, pleasing one man without boring the whole audience. Luckily, another stripper is stepping onto the stage now to keep them occupied.

  Nearly sitting in Jack's lap, she shakes her butt for him, grazing ever so softly against the hardon he's had since she got onto the stage. Her panties shine in the club's lighting. Jack can't take his eyes off her firm mounds, wanting so bad to touch them though he knows that's not allowed.

  Turning around again, Belle shimmies once again. Her bra slips down, a bit of her nipple showing now. Noticing but not caring, she shimmies harder until her bra slides down nearly completely. Feeling slightly faint, but very sexy, Belle isn't quite sure what is coming over her. All she knows is she wants in this man's pants, now. She leans over and plants a kiss on his neck, her deep red lipstick leaving a mark on his skin.

  A whoop from one of his coworkers brings Jack from ecstasy and back to his rage. Worried he may do something stupid, he looks for a way out of the situation. Shaking her ass o
n his lap again, Jack takes this opportunity to whisper to her, "Would you like to go somewhere private?"

  A mixture of embarrassment and outrage comes over Belle. What am I doing? She pushes away from the man. "I'd like to be paid now, please."

  "Aw, don't be like that. It's his birthday."

  "I'm not a prostitute,” she spits to him, but gives the man she was dancing for an apologetic look.

  The coworkers hand her a large stack of cash, more than what Belle expected for cutting her dance short. She almost feels bad until she notices a strange look in Jack's eyes. Feeling thoroughly creeped out, she scurries away from the group and back stage.

  Looking at the clock, she notices with relief that she can leave now. Leaving the panties and bra on, she slips on a short black dress and a jacket to shield her from the cold fall night. Belle chats for a few minutes with some of the other girls before heading out. Her plans for the night include studying and watching some trashy TV.

  Unfortunately, she can't seem to get Jack's piercing green eyes out of her mind. Her whole walk home she spends worrying about him, jumping at every bump and dog bark.

  The tall girl lives in an apartment complex that has doors in the front and in the back alley. The back alley doors are quieter, requiring a key instead of a buzz. When she gets home at night like this, she tries to stay quiet since she lives near a lot of new parents who don't want their babies woken up by the stripper down the hall. It's really best to just avoid trouble when possible when you're in that line of work.

  The only bad thing about taking the back door is that the walk is long and there aren't any street lights. The dark doesn't usually creep her out, but there was just something in the almost wolf-like face of the man she gave a lap dance to that has her on edge.

  Slowly, she walks down the gravel road, making sure not to ruin her new shoes. The crunch of the stones beneath her feet acts as a sort of drone that helps her focus and relax as she walks. At least, until she hears the panting.