The instant her orgasms started to wane, he leaped off the couch. He strapped his big arms around her middle and flipped her over on her back on the cushions. For just an instant, he knelt there between her knees. He thrust his hips between her legs and stirred her tight, warm pussy.
She locked her ankles behind his back and humped up against him. She couldn’t stop herself, she needed him so bad. He pushed her forward so her head bumped the couch. He glided in and out of her channel on rivers of glistening honey.
She gazed up at him, raging, mighty, unstoppable. He fixed his glinting eyes on her. He caressed both hands up her sides to massage her breasts. He made her contract in satisfied moans. Nothing she did surprised him. He knew all along she would react like this. He could see the blatant desire written all over her face.
He pulled his cock out of her and turned her over on her stomach. Her knees hit the carpet, and her ass stuck up at his face.
She never expected, in all her days, to find herself in this position. She never expected to kneel like a dog in front of some man’s dripping hard cock. She never expected him to stroke her ass with his powerful hands and purr between his teeth.
“Oh, fuck, yeah, baby. That ass is so fucking beautiful. Come on and stick it up at me. Let me see that ass asking me for it. Do you want my cock? Huh? Show me, baby.”
How badly did she want it, anyway? Could she experience that heavenly rapture all over again—like this? Could she submit herself to his brutal attentions and love it? She didn’t even have to ask that question.
She arched her back and craned her head around to look at him. She shoved her ass into the air to meet his soft caresses. She gyrated her hips in circles to invite him in. She moaned and whimpered for the cock poking between her legs.
He slid it back and forth between her engorged lips. He spread her sauce all up and down his shaft. He nudged her clit until she wanted it all over again. The more he did it to her, the more she wanted it. The moment she reached one towering climax, she wanted another one.
How did she ever wind up with this man? The angels must have smiled on her and blessed the moment she lost her virginity to someone who knew what he was doing. When he wedged it into her fissure this time, she was ready. She wound her pelvis around to screw it in. She gobbled it down in all its raging glory.
He gave her ass a firm squeeze. He pinched her voluptuous flesh out of the way to spread her lips for himself. He popped his thick head inside and pumped. Once inside, he took hold of her hips in both hands and started pounding. He drove his shaft into the hilt and bounced off.
She needed this the same way she needed all the rest of it. She stared up at him. He was an animal—raw and primal and commanding. He had her on her knees, and his penetrating cock excited her to an intoxicated frenzy. It stroked along her top surface until she couldn’t stand it. She bleated in rabid lust. She howled in ecstasy, but he wouldn’t quit. The harder he made her come, the harder he fucked her. The harder he fucked her, the more she came.
He jackhammered his cock against her insides until she sobbed. If she shut her eyes against the onslaught, he grabbed her by the hair and turned her around. “Look at me.” He never let her escape her fate.
And she loved every second of it.
Her eyes ceased to function. She couldn’t focus them. She knew only the devastating rod jamming into her deepest places and sprinkling its effervescence over her soul. She had to take it. She had to accept everything it did to her. She had to give herself over to the change taking over her life.
She fell forward on the couch, but he caught her arms and pulled them back. He crossed her wrists over her back and held them together in one brutal hand. He grabbed a wad of her hair with the other hand. Between the two points, he controlled her every move.
He pried her back into a dangerous arc. He knocked her forward with every deep blow from his hammer. His glistening cock slithered out of her, hovered around her opening for one terrible instant, and burrowed to the ultimate limit where it belonged.
Every insertion, every withdrawal, every inch of his rock-hard manhood excited her beyond her comprehension. He killed her and brought her back to life. He made her an animal like himself. He made her primal and primitive. He made her dirty and washed her clean at the same time.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another moment of this, he yanked himself away. All the steaming hot jizz all over her ass and trickling down her thighs went cold. She shivered, but she couldn’t drag herself off that couch. Her limbs wouldn’t work. Glorious sparkly stars twinkled all over her. They combusted before her eyes and blinded her to everything.
All of a sudden, something hot saved her from despair. A simmering black demon ate into her panting crevices. His fists and fingers let her go. She could move well enough to turn around and look. At first, she didn’t see him anywhere. She understood only the blistering cruelty of that burning darkness eating her up from the inside.
Then she caught sight of two gleaming eyes. They moved over her ass, and a fringe of grey framed them. No other signs of life disturbed the room. She stared.
He rose up an inch and sank down again. His nose, eyes and forehead lingered there while the darkness covered her ravaged flesh.
He was the demon. He munched her from behind. His heat and his saliva brought her back to molten hotness. His tongue, teeth and lips chewed her up, spit her out and left nothing behind.
She came again and again…
Chapter 6
Cloe sat at her desk, but she didn’t do any work. She stared out the window for the twentieth time that day. This couldn’t go on. She couldn’t live like this. If she stopped working for a second, her mind drifted back to her encounter with Sonny.
He kept her locked in his bedroom for almost a week. He left her sobbing in orgasmic delight only long enough to bring her trays of food. He took her to the bathroom and did her all over again. He only let her go when she told him she had a deadline the following day.
Her editor appeared outside her cubicle and startled her out of her reverie. “I really like that article you wrote about Sonny McCain retiring. You really dug deep in that interview. You must have really made an impression on him.”
“Thanks, Tom,” she replied and his her hot cheeks at that correct statement. “I think there’s a side of him not many people have gotten to see over the years. I think there’s a lot more to him than most people realize.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to give you more jobs like that,” he told her. “You’ve kept your light hidden under a basket all this time. You deserve better. I never knew he led such a wild life.”
“He’s had it rough,” she replied. “He won millions and lost it all gambling and drinking. That’s the main reason he kept boxing.”
“Only you could come up with a story like that,” Tom returned. “That’s the sort of thing only a top journalist would get a subject to admit.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you liked the piece.”
She turned back to the window when he left. She found enough information about Sonny on the internet to write a convincing article. She wrote a big story about his run-ins with the press. Anybody could understand why he wanted to quit boxing at his age. When Tom ran the article by Sonny, he approved it. It didn’t contain anything everyone didn’t already know.
She never saw him again after she left his house, but she never stopped thinking about him. He opened up a well of desire and longing in her. She wanted to keep climaxing again and again for the rest of her life, but she didn’t try to hook up with any other guys. What if they let her down? She didn’t want anybody else. She wanted him.
Days passed. Every day blended into the next, each more hollow and lonely than the day before. She went out with her friends a few times the way she used to, but after a while, she started making excuses not to go. What could she really tell them? If they found out she lost her virginity, they would interrogate her on every detail. They would never leave her alone, and
she wanted to hold this moment close to her heart.
She would probably never see Sonny again. He must be long gone by now. In a few months or years, he would be dead. He would become a nice memory for her. He would become the standard by which she judged every other man in her life.
She wasn’t getting anything done here, so she decided to go out for a walk at lunchtime to clear her head. She got her clutch bag out of her desk and got ready to leave when a shadow crossed her cubicle. She looked up to find young Cyrus Malone grinning down at her. “Hi, Cloe.”
Cloe sank back into her seat. “Hi, Cyrus.”
He sat down on her desk. “How ya doing?”
“I’m just fine, Cyrus,” she replied. “I was just going out for lunch.”
His eyes widened. “Really? Great. Why don’t you come out for lunch with me?”
She shook her head. Ever since she lost her virginity to Sonny, Cyrus couldn’t keep away from her. Sonny left some invisible imprint on her skin. He did something to her body so she sent out pheromones to every male in the tri-state area just about.
Cyrus always gave her the eye. He always wanted to talk to her, and he always smiled when he passed her in the hall. He would never dare ask her out, though. Nowadays, he not only asked her out, he did it repeatedly. He did it so often, in spite of all her refusals, she started to wonder about him. How did he know she’d done it? How did he know she was a vibrant, sexual being in need of a good, hard cock?
He wasn’t the only one, either. Several guys Cloe barely knew suddenly took a major interest in her. They swarmed around her like flies. They came into her cubicle and leaned on her desk. They eyed her just the way Cyrus eyed her right now.
They could tell. They could smell it and hear it. Her body called them on the wind, and they came running to answer it.
Cloe took a deep breath. “Sorry, Cyrus. I was going out alone. I don’t want any company right now.”
“Well, maybe some other time,” he suggested. “You must get lonely living all by yourself. You need somebody to give you some lovin’.”
Cloe cringed. “Not really. I’m pretty happy living alone.”
“Tom is telling everybody about you and Sonny McCain.”
Cloe’s head shot up. “What about me and Sonny McCain?”
“Just how you knocked your interview out of the park. What did you do to get him to reveal all his secrets? Did you sleep with him or something?”
Cloe stared at him in horror.
She stared so long, he fidgeted and looked away. “I’m just kidding, Cloe. You don’t have to take it so personally.”
Cloe smacked her lips and launched out of her chair. “Is that your way of getting me to go out with you? Are you trying to insult me, or are you just so terminally stupid that you can’t take a hint? I don’t want to go out with you, Cyrus—not for lunch or for anything else. Go bark up another tree.”
She bolted out of the cubicle, but he followed her.
He caught up and strode at her side. “I was just trying to be friendly, Cloe. I would never question your journalistic integrity. We all know you wouldn’t sleep with a subject. That’s just my pathetic attempt to get close to you. Come on. Say you forgive me.”
She didn’t stop walking. “Pathetic is right.”
“Come on, Cloe. Give a guy a break.”
Cloe rounded on him. “How would you like it if I suggested you slept with Tom to get this job? Huh? Do you think that would be a pretty good way to try to be friendly?”
He shifted from one foot to the other. He glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “Geez, Cloe, you don’t have to get nasty about it. That’s a pretty low blow.”
Cloe whirled away. “Leave me alone, Cyrus. Don’t ask me out again—not ever. Go talk to Rita in Accounting. I know she’ll give it up to you anytime you want it.” She picked up her pace and left him behind.
He let her go, so he must not have been completely brainless.
She’d never cut a guy off at the knees like that before. Then again, she never had to.
She hit the sidewalk and set off. She drank in the sunshine and let it wash her troubles away.
She found her feet gravitating toward Carl’s gym where she first met Sonny.
What was she doing there? She paused with her hand on the doorknob. What would she find inside? All the guys would turn and stare at her the way they did before. Then what would she do?
She had no reason to go in there. She couldn’t exactly explain to them that she wanted to see Sonny McCain, that she wanted to smell him and touch the things he touched and walk on the same floor he walked on. That would be absurd, wouldn’t it?
A noise from inside overruled her hesitation. She pushed the door open, and a roiling sea of sound hit her in the face. Sweating bodies packed the gym, but no one turned around to stare at her. They all stood with their backs to her. No one even noticed her.
Dozens of men screamed, shouted and pounded their fists in the air. They crowded shoulder to shoulder so Cloe couldn’t see between them. They jumped and pranced around one of the sparring rings she passed before.
She stepped into the gym. The door crashed shut behind her, but no one even heard it. The deafening thunder inside drowned out everything else. She skirted the crowd to find a place for herself. What was she doing here, anyway? Sonny wouldn’t be here.
The guys paid no attention to her. The closer she got, the more distinct their voices became. She heard them yelling, “Come on! The left! Get him!”
In the far back corner, she climbed up on a bench so she could see into the ring. Two men in padded headgear boxed in a furious tangle of fists and muscle. They pummeled each other so fast no one could follow them. Sweat and saliva flew away from every landed punch.
The tumult rose to an incredible crescendo. The concrete walls deflected the sound and amplified it until it numbed Cloe’s ears, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the fighters in the ring. She watched Sonny’s fight televised on cable, but she never saw anything like this in her life.
Those men weren’t images on a screen. They were real people who grunted in pain every time they took a hit. They dodged and danced one way and then the other, but they couldn’t escape the horrible reality of fists exploding against their ribs and skulls.
So this was how Sonny made his living. He suffered this way year in and year out, his whole life. He turned himself into a human punching bag. No wonder he got headaches. The human body wasn’t designed to take this kind of punishment.
Punishment was the best word for it. Why did these men want to torture themselves this way? Did they numb themselves to life’s hardships so they didn’t feel pain? Did those punches take the place of some deeper hurt? Maybe they needed a distraction from their woes.
A horn blew, and the two opponents retreated to their corners. Older men surrounded them and shouted into their faces. Carl coached one of them. Cloe didn’t recognize the man coaching the other guy.
She cast a hopeless glance around the gym. She didn’t see Sonny anywhere, but at the same time, she saw him everywhere. Every man in this gym was a younger version of him. Years ago, he was young, strong and hopeful, just like these guys in the ring right now. He started the same way, with older guys giving him instruction younger friends and adversaries giving him first bruises. Little did he know they were giving him his death warrant, too.
He would never be another Carl. Sonny would never settle down to earning a decent living running a successful business. He was too famous and too traumatized by the whole experience. He would be lucky to die in his sleep without too much pain.
The next round started, but she didn’t stick around to see any more. She’d seen enough. She understood now. She headed back outside and kept on walking. She didn’t pay attention to where she was going until she found herself back in the park by the duck pond. She watched the birds diving and let her fantasies take over.
What if she could see him one more time? She might as well at le
ast walk past the house. Even if someone else lived there now, she could stand on the sidewalk and just look. That’s the closest she would get to him again.
She meandered down the blocks and stopped dead when she saw the fifth- wheel still parked in the driveway. He wasn’t gone after all. Should she knock on the door? He wanted peace and solitude. He didn’t want some desperate slut crying on his doorstep. He must have hundreds of women begging to throw themselves at him. What was she, anyway? She was a cheap journalist. He had his fun with her, and that was all.
Even as she stood there trying to decide what to do, the house door opened and Sonny stepped out onto the porch. His eyebrows flew up. “Hello. What are you doing here?”
She kicked an invisible pebble. “I don’t know. I just wanted to see if you were still here. I thought you would be on your way to the California by now.”
He waved toward the fifth-wheel. “I had to get my truck serviced. I’m just doing my final packing while I wait.”
“When are you leaving?”
He shrugged and looked away. “I don’t really know yet. Shouldn’t be too long now.”
She looked away, too. Could he see how miserable she was? She hated herself. Situations like this gave her all the reason she needed never to have sex with a guy in the first place. How could a few great orgasms reduce her to a sniveling wreck?
“Actually,” he went on, “I was kinda hoping you would come back here.”
Her head snapped up. “You were?”
“Sure. I was hoping I would see you again—not like that, I mean. I just wanted to see you and talk to you. How are you? How are you getting along since...you know.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, by the way. Thanks for approving my article. I hope I didn’t step on your toes by revealing too much.”
“Not at all,” he replied. “I should be thanking you. You did a very good job of not telling anybody anything. I was impressed, and I’m very grateful. I trusted you, and you didn’t disappoint.”
Beauty and the Billionaire_A Bad Boy Romance Collection Page 29
