by Nic Saint
New York, like any metropolis, was full of CCTV cameras capturing every aspect of everyday life. It’d taken him only minutes to track down the van. As it was, he should have known it would be heading straight to the docks. HdM had a habit of dumping his hapless victims into the drink.
He carried Anna down the steps and kicked the door to the mausoleum with his boot. It swung open with an eerie, creaky sound, and when he entered, the musky smell assaulted his nostrils.
He didn’t care.
Roughly, he laid Anna down on top of his grandfather’s tomb.
She stared up at him, her mouth slightly open, not knowing what to expect.
With a flick of his fingers, he tore open her blouse, ripping it apart to expose her lacy bra beneath. With another brutal tug, he yanked the flimsy item from her body, exposing her soft breasts to him.
She cried out in surprise, but didn’t try to stop him. Instead, she stretched her arms behind her head, her tits wiggling invitingly—her nipples already puckering up, both from excitement and the stale coolness in the air.
With a few quick movements, he removed her jeans, and tugged down her panties, effectively stripping her naked. Instantly, she raised her legs, placing her feet on either side of his grandfather’s birth and death dates, and let her knees fall to either side, opening her legs invitingly.
His only response was to drop his own pants and plant his hands on his hips.
“Suck me,” he growled. “And be quick about it, you little bitch.”
With a squeal of delight, she raised herself up, and took his cock in both hands, then placed it obediently into her mouth, and gobbled him up as if he were the most delicious treat she’d ever been handed.
He was flaccid when he entered her mouth, but she made sure he didn’t stay that way. Three strokes from her experienced tongue, and his rod was rising up, hard and hot in her mouth.
“Deeper, bitch. Let me fuck that throat of yours.”
And without waiting for an answer, he grabbed a handful of her flaxen hair, and pulled her down onto his piercing monster cock. She made soft gurgling sounds when he pushed through into her throat, but didn’t protest. Instead, she slipped a hand between her legs, and started rubbing her pussy. When she withdrew her fingers, he could see she was soaking wet already, her cunt juices dripping onto the tombstone, right where it said, ‘RIP.’
He took her head in both hands, and shoved his cock deeper into her throat, fucking her hard and fast. Saliva dribbled down his cock onto his balls, and it was all he could do not to come right then and there, shooting his load into her throat.
Easing up, he released her and she lay back with a satisfied grin on her face, an excited glint in her eyes he’d never seen there before.
He kneeled down between her legs, then, and took her soppy cunt with outstretched tongue, penetrating her deeply, then licking his way from the crack of her ass to her throbbing nub in one go. For good measure, he popped his thumb into her anus, probing deeply, while his mouth clamped down on her sex. Sucking up all her nectar, he thought he’d never drunk a sweeter beverage. He nibbled her clit, and was rewarded with squeals of pleasure and quivers running the length of her body.
His hands reached up, until they grabbed hold of her twin mounds of flesh, and he dug his fingers into her tits, clawing and grabbing her soft skin hard, then rolling her nipples between his fingers and pressing down, squeezing tight.
She screamed out in pain and pleasure, and he knew she was loving every minute of this harsh treatment.
To his surprise, he discovered that so was he!
Kneading her tits, he suckled at her clit, nibbling her engorged labia, digging his tongue into her pink wet hole, then returning to her quivering pleasure bud.
Finally, she screamed a familiar refrain. “Fuck me, Scott. Fuck me hard!”
With a throaty growl, he reared himself up and found his cock entering her before he even had the chance to prepare himself. He tore off his shirt, and now they were both naked. He rocked into her like a battering ram, taking her hard and fast from the first, and was surprised when he slid all the way in to the hilt, his cock taking possession of her sweet pussy in a single thrust.
She arched her back and reached out her hands, clawing at his chest when he pinned her to the cold stone of his ancestor with his thick cock. Leaning over her, he pistoned into her, ramming her pussy hard and fast at an angle that provided the most stimulation to the walls of her cunt.
He was brutal, fucking her like he’d never fucked before. His cock pierced her like a sword, cutting straight into her quivering belly, her juices bubbling up with each thrust, attesting to her readiness to be taken this way.
Then, crawling onto the tombstone, he dug his fingers into her soft breasts, using them like cushions to support himself, and she gasped at this harsh treatment of her tits. He leaned in, then, placing his elbows on the cold stone, and took her mouth with his, plunging his tongue into her mouth and plundering her deeply. She dueled fiercely, thrust by thrust, and, mouths opened wide, they drank each other in passionately.
He was bucking and writhing on top of her, plumbing the depths of her body, and she made soft mewling sounds in the back of her throat, her eyelids fluttering, and then suddenly, her body shook and heaved beneath him, her cunt mashing against the saddle of his sex as she succumbed to the throes of a majestic orgasm.
Cunt juice flooded his cock and balls, and he knew he was close as well.
Not quite yet, though.
Pulling back out, she cried out her dismay, but immediately he was inside her again, only not where she expected him: in one violent thrust, he’d entered her anal cavity, pushing past her reluctant sphincter in one go.
“Fuck, yes!” she hollered, squirming beneath him.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes and caught his. Her face was flushed from excitement, her eyes wide and wild.
“I love you, Scott,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, droplets of sweat forming between her quivering breasts. “Oh, I love you so much, my darling.”
It was all he needed to hear, and gritting his teeth, he pushed all the way into her bowels, deeply penetrating her tender flesh.
She slung her head back and howled in sweet agony as he took her all over again.
Chapter 27
Anna had never experienced sex like this before. The man she loved—truly loved—was taking her hard and fast, and she loved it. His granite cock pounding against her belly, she felt a second orgasm welling inside her. He was ransacking her bowels now, reaming her quivering asshole and plunging that huge cock of his at an outrageous clip.
“God, yes, don’t stop!” she cried out when he upped the tempo, and battered her anus like a monster ram.
Then, without warning, he abruptly tilted her up, and twirled her around, pressing her sweaty tits against the cold stone of the grave beneath them. It was coarse and hard, but his cock never left her asshole, plunging into her with more force each time.
Her smallest hole was screaming, and her body was wildly bucking beneath all this exquisite violence. Finally, she felt herself crest over into a major climax, waves of pleasure rolling through her and crashing into her mind, blowing her out of the presence for a moment, and delivering her at the feet of a power greater than herself.
But then she smacked right back down to earth, and she was back with Scott, the only man she had ever loved.
“Come inside me, Scott,” she moaned. “Come inside my pussy. I want your cum inside me.”
Abruptly, he twirled her around again, and resumed his delicious punishment. Suddenly, his hand lashed out, and he slapped her across the face.
“Yes, hit me, Scott,” she grunted lasciviously. “Hit your bitch as much as you want. I’m yours. Yours to do with as you please.”
“Shut up, bitch,” he growled, and slapped her across the face again, her cheeks glowing red. She felt the impact straight down into her pussy and yelped in heat.
He then star
ted slapping her tits, first one, then the other, making sure he hit her sensitive nipples each time. With each slap, she cried out louder and louder, squirming and wriggling beneath his hard body, and when he suddenly pulled his cock out of her ass and slapped her cunt, she came again. She squirted like the bitch in heat she was, showering her cunt juice all across his scrotum.
As her reward, he promptly shoved his cock into her pussy, burying it deeply inside her belly in one vicious push, and hit her cervix.
He grabbed hold of her smarting breasts, digging his nails into her yielding flesh, and shoved into her again, pounding her hard. He pulled out slowly, then hammered into her again. Faster this time. Then slowly out again, and hard and fast into her soppy cunt. Each time he dug into her, he grunted, and she yelped.
This was exactly what she needed—to be taken roughly by the man she loved.
She knew now that he was everything to her. Her friend. Her lover. Her master.
Harder and faster he plumbed her depths, her pussy lips screaming and her nub swelling. To accentuate his merciless treatment, he slapped her breasts, then grabbed them, then slapped them again.
She spread her legs even wider, wanting him deeper—wanting all of him—inside her—all the way.
Suddenly, his breathing grew ragged, and his body jerked and spasmed against her, his biceps rolling beneath the skin like coils of steel as he grabbed her hips.
He was nearing the point of no return—he was going to come inside her. And just watching him on the verge of exploding inside her body, crested her over into a climax all afresh, her body shaking violently. And then he erupted. She could feel his cock swell to majestic proportions, pushing against the walls of her cunt, and then he exploded with a loud grunt.
“Look at me,” she cried out, and he did, his eyes hot and dark, twin pools of lust and love. She could feel his cum flood her pussy, like a torrential storm of seed roiling and boiling inside her belly, flushing away all heartache, all the pain and shame. With his cum, he cleansed her of the past, and heralded in a new and bright future for the both of them.
“I love you, Anna,” he said as his millions of seed flooded her womb. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Scott,” she murmured, feeling his cum breathe life into her body and soul. His eyes, alight with the fire of love, burned into her, and she held his gaze like she held his cock inside her cunt.
They were one body now, one soul and one heart.
He draped himself on top of her, and kissed her flaming red breasts, wanting to alleviate some of the damage he’d done. She cuddled him up against her tits, burying his head between her hot flesh, and instinctively his mouth found her nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his cock still buried inside her, the last of his cum pooling inside her womb.
He tilted his head and his mouth found hers. She drank him in deeply.
They lay like this for the longest time, murmuring words of love and endearment.
Anna had finally found the man of her dreams. The man who knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her with all his heart.
“You made me yours, Scott,” she murmured, tears of joy springing into her eyes. “Now I’m yours forever.”
He smiled and kissed her again. “And I’ll never let you go,” he said in answer to her unuttered question. He gazed up into her eyes and trailed a finger along her cheek. “Anna Moonstone, you’re mine until the end of time.”
She kissed him tenderly.
Yes, she was.
Chapter 28
Back at the house, Jack and Fay stood gazing out the window. They’d seen Scott disappear into the gardens with Anna, and hoped the boy would finally show some sense and treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Like the woman he loved. For even though Scott had been wrestling with himself all this time, it had only taken one look at the two of them for his parents to know that love had come into his life, and like it or not, it had come to stay.
“I only hope he’ll do the right thing,” said Fay, her back rigid.
“If that boy has one ounce of sense, he’ll ask her to marry him,” said her husband behind her.
She shook her head, her gray curls swaying softly. “I fear the worst.”
Jack stepped up beside her, and pressed his hand on her arm. “Have a little faith. I’m sure Scott must realize by now what Anna means to him.”
She heaved a deep sigh. “I hope you’re right, Jack. That girl’s the best thing that has ever happened to him.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “I would have loved to see Harlan’s face when she told him he was her father.”
Fay faced him sharply. “Do you think that’s what happened?”
Jack shrugged. “Must have been something like that. Otherwise why would he have wanted her dead?”
Fay’s chest hitched. She’d always hated Harlan de Montesquieu like the rat he was, but now, if possible, she despised him even more. What kind of father killed his own child? “He must not escape his punishment, Jack. Not this time. He can’t get away with this.”
Jack’s face clouded. “Nothing we can do about it, I’m afraid. You know the situation. Harlan is well protected.”
Fay’s big heart sank a little. She knew all about the protection men like Harlan enjoyed. It had kept him in business these last forty years, and had covered his repulsive actions with the blanket of absolute impunity.
“One day I would like to see him go down in flames,” she said softly.
“One day he will,” said her husband, and she looked up in surprise.
“You really think so?”
His handsome face had hardened into a grimace. “I know so. You can’t do what Harlan does and get away with it forever. He will meet his punisher sooner or later.”
Fay turned to the window once again. “I just hope this punisher’s last name is Thornton.”
Jack merely pursed his lips and kept his silence.
***
A mere ten miles from where Jack and Fay stood, Harlan de Montesquieu was engaged in a lively conversation with his son Ty. Immediately after the events that had unfolded at HdM headquarters—to be more precise the basement level—they’d returned to The Hamptons, just in case something went wrong and they needed plausible deniability. If anyone found out, better to be far away.
Ty was pacing the room nervously, his father staring out the window of the Montesquieu estate. Sometimes he thought if he could see far enough, he would be able to spot his nemesis Jack Thornton. He would give his right arm to know what that scoundrel was up to right now. When word came that the van had been found with no trace of their men or the Moonstone bitch, he’d cursed, knowing exactly what had transpired.
Anna Moonstone was still alive. Saved, no doubt, by one of Thornton’s brood. How they’d managed was anyone’s guess, but by now she was probably safely tucked away at the Thornton estate, well beyond his reach.
He wondered if Thornton knew the vile truth. That Anna was his own flesh and blood. A Montesquieu. And he wondered if Thornton would use this knowledge to his advantage. What if he went to the media? What if he managed to prove Anna was his daughter? What leverage would that give him? He didn’t know but intended to find out. He still had a hotline to Jack. Like the red telephone that connected the Oval Office with the Kremlin, they only used it in case of emergency. Well, this was an emergency, and he needed to confer with his age-old enemy to see what he planned to do about this.
But not right now.
“Why didn’t you tell me!” spat Ty. “Why didn’t you tell me that bitch was my sister! I had sex with her!”
Harlan studied his son for a moment. Ty had many great qualities, but his impetuousness was not one of them. He wondered for a moment whether to tell him the truth or not, but then decided it would be foolish not to. Ty had a way of finding out stuff, which was one of his better qualities.
“She’s not your sister,” he said slowly, and watched with relish as Ty’s eyes grew wide.
“You mean
, she’s not your daughter after all?” Ty said uncertainly.
Harlan shook his head. “No, she’s mine all right.”
Ty’s jaw dropped. “You mean…”
Harlan looked away. “You’re not my son, Ty. You’re not a Montesquieu.”
“What? That’s not possible!” Ty exploded.
Patiently, Harlan explained the truth. That he was the result of an affair between Harlan’s first wife Claire and a man called Joshua Walker. The affair had only lasted a couple of weeks, and when Harlan realized who Joshua Walker was—or rather who he might one day become—he’d decided to forgive Claire and accept her son as his own.
Ty expelled a shuddering breath as he sank onto a chair. “Joshua Walker,” he said reverently. “You mean to say…”
Harlan gave him a quick smile. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Ty. Your father is the president of the Unites States. And he knows all about you.” His smile turned evil. “Which is why we’ve been able to operate with absolute impunity all these years.”
Ty, still reeling from the shock, shook his head. “You should have told me, Dad. I had a right to know.”
Harlan steeled himself, his smile wiped away. “You’re my son, Ty. I’ve raised you as my own. You are my rightful heir.”
“Yes, Dad,” grumbled Ty darkly.
“Now, about this Moonstone affair, I think we need to act fast. Before Jack can use this information against us.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Harlan gestured to the table, where an envelope rested. Ty picked it up and extracted a set of photographs. When he saw the subject of the pictures, his weary expression turned into a cold smile. “No way,” he said softly.
