by K. Webster
This is how I know I’ll never come back from this. From her. It’s how I know I’m going to spend every dime of my fortune to keep her safe and mine.
Because she likes this.
So many women I’ve been with had promise of a relationship like ours, but they always got scared off when we barely scratched the surface.
Not Ash.
Ash lays her vulnerabilities at my feet, knowing I can stomp on them. She trusts me not to. Instead, I laugh at them and ridicule them. Maybe even kick them around. But, after, I help her pick them back up and put them where they go.
It works for us.
Deliciously so.
I’m growing too obsessed with her. I’ve begun to not care about shit with my company or the city I rule over. I only care about her and the wicked games we play.
I smack her pussy, loving how she cries out and shudders.
“Rub it while I undress. I’m sure you’re going to climax when you see me naked since you’re so fucking obsessed with the idea of it,” I taunt as I shed my tie and then jacket. “Touch your pussy, my filthy whore who does dirty shit for money. Make yourself come while you watch me.”
She captures her lip between her teeth, rubbing furiously at her clit, drinking me in. I slowly pluck through each button. Her eyes track the movement greedily. I undo my cuff links and then strip out of my shirt. She sucks in a deep breath when I tease the undershirt out of my pants where it’s tucked in. I reveal my toned abs, enjoying the fuck out of how she rubs faster at her pussy.
“Stop,” I bark out.
She groans but yanks her hand away. So fucking hot. Her pussy is open and exposed, glistening with need. Red and ripe for tasting. Her jeweled butt plug shimmers in the light.
I smack her pussy three hard times in a row, only stopping when she moans. One more hit and she would have come.
“Rub that needy clit but don’t come,” I instruct. I whip off my undershirt and start pulling off my slacks. “Good girl.”
Her eyes roll back and her thighs tremble. “Win,” she whines. “Please.”
“No,” I say. “Pull your hand away.”
“Asshole,” she grumbles but obeys.
I kick off my dress shoes and peel off my socks once my slacks are gone. Finally, I give the needy girl what she wants and take off my boxers.
“Happy now?”
“Yep.” She grins, looking hot as fuck with mascara-smeared tears ruining her pretty face.
I walk over to her and stroke my dick. “Tell me how much you want me. How much you need my money. How you’ll do anything to please me.”
“I want you—”
“No,” I bark out. “Tell me while you rub your clit.”
She happily brings her hand back to her pussy. Her gaze is locked on mine as she rubs at herself. “I need you, Winston. I want you.”
“Not good enough.” I smack her tits one right after the other. “Tell me more.”
“I love how you give me money and take away my fear of providing for myself. I love how you buy me clothes and food. I love how you gave me a job and let me spend the night sometimes.”
“You’re using me for my money,” I taunt. “Just like I’m using you to degrade. That’s all this is.”
“It’s more,” she argues.
“It’s not.” I smack her cunt again. “Admit we’re just using each other.”
“No.”
“Stubborn girl. Make yourself come because I’m about to make you scream.”
She rubs shamelessly on her clit and then comes with a yelp, her chest turning blotchy red from the effort. Before she can finish, I grab her hips and flip her over. I take hold of my throbbing cock and tease at her soaked flesh. With a hard thrust of my hips, I drive all the way into her, making her scream at the top of her lungs.
Fuck.
She’s so tight, and with that giant fucking butt plug crammed up her ass, it’s strangling my cock.
“Win, ow, oh God,” she chokes out.
I slam into her ruthlessly, nearly coming with each deep dive into her tight, hot body. Twisting my fingers into her hair, I jerk her upright. I grope her jiggling tit as I fuck her like a madman.
“Rub your pussy, baby,” I growl. “This is going to go quick. I’ve waited too fucking long to have this pussy.”
She whimpers but furiously rubs at her clit. I pinch and pull on her hardened nipples. The moment she comes, I lose all sense of sanity. A roar rips from me as I grind into her, come shooting deep inside her. Her pussy milks my cock as she climaxes hard.
I yank out of her, my dick slinging come over her thighs, and I push her down onto the bed. She bounces, her ass clenching. I take hold of the end of the butt plug and begin working it out of her ass. I’m drained of my orgasm and my dick is softening, but I’m not done with her. After some sobs on her part, I manage to free her of the enormous plug. Her tight ass finally releases it, tightening back to a tiny rosebud like it didn’t just have a fat plug inside it.
With my fingers, I scoop up the come dripping from her pussy and rub it all over her asshole. She whimpers and shakes her head, which only makes me want it more. I get a thrill of power when she starts to cry. I push my finger into her ass, enjoying the fuck out of the way her body easily accepts me. Another finger follows the first, making her squeal. My dick is hard as stone again, not ready for our time together to be done.
“Win,” she begs. “You promised to cuddle after.”
“We’re not done yet.”
I smear my come leaking from her all over my dick. Then, I remove my fingers from her hole to replace it with the tip of my dick. She screams in pain, but I slide in much easier than my first encounter here. Easily I glide in and out despite the way she clenches around me. I smack her sore, red-striped ass as I fuck her without remorse.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” I croon. “Fucking gorgeous.”
She melts like I knew she would. I caress her ass and hips and back. Sweat drips down my temple as my nuts tighten. This time, my release is less of a fucking waterfall. Still, it fills her tight ass up with me.
The time for wild and ruthless is over.
I made a promise.
Gently, I ease out of her. Her body shudders as she cries softly while I turn off our recording. I walk into the bathroom and then start the shower, turning it to hot, before I fetch my girl. She’s still in the same, awkward, used position. With a playful smack to her ass, I urge her to roll over. Then, I scoop her into my arms.
“My little girl needs babying,” I tease, dropping a kiss to her puffy lips. “Don’t you?”
She nods, clinging to me. I carry her into the walk-in shower and under the spray. Once I set her to her feet, I dote on her like she clearly craves. I wash and condition her hair first. After, I soap down every part of her sore body. My own body I wash quickly.
“What do you need?” I ask, hugging her to me.
“This.”
I stroke my fingers up and down her back. “You make me fucking insane. So insane, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“I go crazy with the need to destroy you so I can put you back together again.”
“As long as you always promise to fix me after you break me.”
“I’ll try.”
She snuggles closer. “I’m going to fall in love with you, Win. It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
Because she doesn’t think I can love her back.
“It’s going to hurt. Everything with me hurts.”
Her body trembles and she sniffles. “I like your brand of hurt.”
“I’ll never be a Prince Charming,” I remind her. “I’ll always be a villain both in and out of bed. I can offer you a bitter taste of sweet, but it’ll always be brief and fleeting.”
“You’re not as mean as you claim you are, Constantine.”
“No, I’m much worse, brat. Much worse.”
We remain quiet for a long while, her clinging to me and me massaging her b
ack. Eventually, I grow tired of standing and help the exhausted girl from the shower. It amazes me that such a simple effort, such as toweling her dry, has her gazing at me with stars in her eyes. She truly craves this gentle coddling after. I guess, in a way, I kind of like taking care of her too. Absolves some of the guilt for making her cry.
Once we’re dry, I tuck her into bed and then turn off all the lights.
“Win?” my needy girl cries out.
“Yes, brat?”
“You’re still going to sleep with me, right?”
I chuckle as I finish locking up for the night. “All part of the deal, Cinderelliott.”
Crawling into the bed with her, I wrap an arm around her and bury my nose in her damp hair. I like how her small body fits in the curve of mine. My dick likes it too, hard again and pressed against the crack of her ass, but I don’t try for another round. She’d probably pass out mid-fuck. And as kinky as I am, I don’t want to fuck an unconscious girl.
“Win?”
“Go to sleep.”
She smacks my arm, and I grin in the dark.
“What is it, precious?” I taunt.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Stop mouthing and say what you have to say.”
“Have you ever loved a girl before?”
I refrain from rolling my eyes. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like people.”
“You like me.”
“Barely.”
She laughs and twists to face me. I touch her hair in the dark, smoothing it from her face. My lips press to hers, seeking them out easily in the darkness.
“I really liked a woman,” I find myself admitting aloud. “When I was young.”
She grows quiet. “Oh yeah?”
“I thought maybe I might ask her to marry me.” I scoff. “I was wrong.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Dad said no.”
She gasps. “You didn’t ask the girl you almost loved to marry you because your dad said no?”
“Yep.”
“What did your mom say?”
I try to extricate myself from her hold, but she’s like a fucking monkey, gripping on tight. I give up the fight and sigh heavily. “Mom had enough of my wallowing in pity and made it her sole mission to pull up every horrible thing Meredith ever did.”
“Meredith.” She says the name like she’s jealous of it, which amuses me. “What did your mom dig up?”
“Meredith had an abortion when she was sixteen. It was kept hush-hush. We started seeing each other when I was eighteen. During that time, Mother discovered Meredith had sex with Vincent Morelli.”
“No,” she gasps. “A Morelli? That bitch!”
“You’re Team Constantine now, huh?”
“Through and through. Which Morelli is Vincent?”
“Leo’s uncle.”
“Ew? She fucked an old man when she had eighteen-year-old you?”
“Allegedly.”
“So your dad made you break up with her, and your mom drove a spike through your bleeding heart?”
“It’s the Constantine way,” I say with a dark chuckle.
“It’s cruel.”
“Mother also obtained text records of Meredith plotting with her sister to accidentally get pregnant with my baby.”
“What?”
“Meredith just wanted my money. Dad knew, and Mom proved it.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Technically, I want your money too. Your mom is going to hate me.”
I stroke my fingers through her messy, wet hair. “But you’re a greedy girl. You want more than money. You want my fucking heart like it’s negotiable.”
“I’m tenacious.”
“Needy. The word is needy.”
“You like it,” she taunts.
“As long as you keep letting me whip your ass and then fucking it, I’ll tell you whatever you need to hear, baby.”
“For the record, Win, I can tell when you feed me bullshit lines and when you mean it. You mean it a lot more than when you don’t.”
“You think you know everything, little girl.”
“I know enough.”
“Go to sleep.”
She’s quiet for a bit, and I almost fall asleep until she speaks again.
“Whatever happened to Meredith?”
“She married Duncan Baldridge.”
I smirk as I think about how much hell I’ve put the Baldridge family through. Most recently, involving Leo Morelli by selling the Baldridge Plaza building.
“I hope she has a miserable life,” Ash says. “She deserves it.”
“It’s quite miserable indeed.” I laugh. “It pleases me endlessly.”
Satisfied by my answer, she cuddles against me and soon falls asleep. I can’t relax, though. The last girl I slept with on the regular almost twenty years ago, I learned she betrayed me. I barely survived it back then. I certainly won’t survive it this time.
Because as much as I thought I cared about Meredith . . .
It was only one tiny sliver of the way I feel about Ash.
This bratty, needy girl in my arms is going to destroy my life, and I’m going to fucking let her.
And Mother will rub it in my face once more.
22
Ash
“You can’t sleep all day.”
I crack my eyes open and squint at the fully dressed figure looming over my bed.
Winston Constantine.
My villainous lover.
“What time is it?” I grumble. “When did you get up?”
“Some of us get up with the birds.” He snatches the blanket and yanks it off my body. “Or should I say one particularly loud bird. How do you sleep through that noise?”
“It’s not noise. He’s singing.”
“He should take lessons. Get up and showered.” His fingers brush over my stomach where the Sharpie still stains my skin.
Winston’s Dirty Whore.
“I’ll drop you off at your house on the way to the Constantine Compound,” he says, making his way over to my closet. “Call me if your idiot brothers give you trouble.”
“Step,” I mutter. “Dad and Manda will be there getting ready too. And her stylist.”
“Good.” He pulls a dress off the hanger and tosses it onto the bed. “Wear this and the sandals you wore to dinner the other day. The nude Jimmy Choos. I like the way they make your calves look.”
I sit up on my knees and drink in his handsome appearance. He’s back to wearing another impeccable suit without a hair out of place. There’s a certain rigidity to him that I understand to be nerves.
Climbing off the bed, not bothering to cover my nakedness since he’s seen it all, I approach him and hug him from behind. He’s stiff at first and then relaxes slightly.
“Happy birthday, Win.”
He allows me to hold him for all of thirty seconds before he’s extricating himself from me. Win’s not the best cuddler. Apparently, he’s even worse when he’s stressed.
“We don’t have all day. Mother wants me to come over early for a drink and pictures. Vanity Fair will be doing a piece.” He walks over to the dresser, tidying up a pile of cherry Starburst into a neat stack before he grabs my phone and unplugs it from the charger. “I’ll entertain myself while I wait.”
As much as I’d love to crawl into his lap and watch the video we made last night, I do need to shower and dress. If I want to look the part of Winston Constantine’s personal assistant and lover, I need to put some effort into it. I don’t need to give his mother any added ammunition on what will be a hate brigade against me. I have enough haters.
After a quick shower, I pull my wet hair into a messy bun, knowing the stylist will want to dry it. I forgo the makeup and pull on some undergarments, all the while listening to the hot sounds of our feral lovemaking from the night before. Winston looks good enough to eat with an erection straining in his slacks as he leans against the doorjamb watchin
g my phone with an evil smirk on his face. Once I’m dressed, I walk over to him and peek at it. He’s at the part where he’s in my ass, pounding into me like he hates me. My skin burns hot at seeing the two of us together. It makes me want to watch the whole thing.
“We could be late,” I murmur, peeking at him through my lashes.
His jaw clenches, and his blue eyes flash. “As much as I want to make you cry, little girl, and destroy your sore asshole, I have responsibilities. If you please me tonight at the birthday bash, I’ll reward you with my dick down your pretty throat.”
I lick my lips. “Promise?”
“I always follow through on my threats,” he rumbles, his lips curling into a sinister grin. “You, of all people, know this.”
I enter the brownstone to a bustle of activity. There are people rushing about, dressing the triplets in the living room and doing last-minute alterations. Dad is nowhere to be found. I’m nearly knocked over by Manda, fully dressed in a low-cut evening gown, as soon as I start for the stairs.
“Seriously, Ash!” she bellows. “You’re a hot mess, and we only have a few hours until your limo arrives. Get upstairs and do something about that hair!”
I yelp in surprise when her nails dig into my bicep and she starts dragging me up the steps. “You’re going to bruise me, Manda!”
“That’s why they created makeup, darling. Now get to drying your hair,” she snaps, hauling me into my bedroom.
I drop my bag on the bed and scowl at her. “Where’s the stylist?”
“She had a family emergency.” Manda smiles at me in the same corrupt way her sons do. “Looks like you’re on your own. Don’t embarrass me.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “When will the limo be here?”
“Five. If you’re not ready, I’ve instructed him to leave. You won’t make a mockery out of my family by showing up late.”
It’s only a quarter past two. That’s plenty of time to doll myself up. Of course, I won’t look as fancy as I could had I used the stylist, but it’ll have to do. I just hope Winston’s mother doesn’t notice.
“Bye, Manda,” I bite out. “I have to get ready now.”
She regards me coolly before storming from my room, slamming the door in the process. I make my way into the bathroom and set to drying my hair. It takes forever because it’s thick and long, but I manage to get it dry. I decide to do loose curls and use my flat iron to do each piece. I waste an hour and a half making my hair look better than any stylist could ever do. I’m quite pleased with the bounciness and wonder if Winston will enjoy running his fingers through it.
