She lets out a surprised sound—something between a moan and a gasp, and I do it again.
Over and over, until she falls against me unable to keep herself upright.
“Fuck me like you hate me,” I grunt into her ear. “Because we both know that you do.”
Snow continues her moans and gasps as I keep thrusting up into her. She’s so fucking slick that my cock slips out of her momentarily, but I reach down and shove it back in.
I wrap my arms around her and keep thrusting my hips upward. The sound is almost as high inducing as the smell of her cunt.
Our flesh slapping together—the sound of her sloshing pussy as I continue to assault is more than I can bear.
My hips move faster, Snow groans louder, and just when I think I’m able to control myself again, my balls tighten and I come deep into her precious, ruined little hole.
I wrap a hand around her throat to keep her from falling against me again as I close my eyes and attempt to regain my bearings.
After a few moments of steady breathing, I pull her down toward me and kiss her roughly, taking her lower lip in between my teeth and holding her in place.
She lets out another whimper and this time, I know it’s one of pain, but I don’t want her to move.
Not until she’s been properly secured again.
When I feel a tear roll down her face and land against my cheek, I relent and let go of her lip.
My hand stays firmly gripped around her throat as I lean over to the nightstand and retrieve her collar.
I chuckle when she chokes back a sob.
I guess she thought this half-hearted performance would have been enough to make me see her as a human being, but it was only our first time.
Things in my home have to be worked for, and that’s one of them.
I sit up, wrap an arm securely around her waist and hold her close to me as I hold the collar around her neck again and snap the buttons back into place.
As I let go of Snow’s throat once the reminder of my ownership of her has been properly fixed, I decide that I want to spend the rest of the night in bed alone.
“Back to the corner, little pup,” I tell her, with a tired wave of my hand. “In the morning, you can have breakfast.”
Snow’s choked sobs come in waves as she slides off the side of the bed and retrieves her panties from the floor. Once she pulls them on, I watch as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hands as she walks out of my room.
Turning onto my stomach, I let out a wide, tired yawn.
Tomorrow she gets to have two meals and we both know that’s something that she can be grateful for.
And then the lessons can start again.
Chapter Seven
Before I leave the house the next morning, I’m sure to serve Snow her breakfast.
I’ve made her homemade hash browns and a couple of slices of toast with butter. I mixed everything neatly inside of the blender so that it will be easier for her to lick up, then spilled the concoction into her food bowl. I was also kind enough to fill her water one as well even though that’s not considered part of her meals.
However, I know that if I want her ready for another night of discipline, she’ll have to be strong.
“I’m heading to work now, lunch is in the fridge, okay? The red bowl with the saran wrap around it,” I tell her as I watch her crawl toward her breakfast. She looks up at me with her hopeful eyes and I lean down, tilt her chin up toward me, and kiss her gently on the lips.
It’s what she always yearns for before I leave, and sometimes, I don’t have it in me to do it.
But after last night, I figure she deserves a little affection.
“Thank you,” she tells me softly when she reaches her bowl. I nod as I linger long enough to watch her tongue begin to lap the contents out before I turn and walk out of the house.
Today is going to be a better day than yesterday. I can feel it in my bones.
* * *
“Hey, you know what I’ve been dying to ask you?” I say to Sariah as I walk into the shop. She glances up at me with a curious smile on her face.
I get it, though.
I’m usually not so talkative in the mornings so she knows that something’s up.
“Hm?”
“Where the hell are you from? Your accent is pretty,” I remark as I stop by her desk and rest an elbow against it.
Sariah chuckles as she shakes her head slightly, leans back in her chair and grins at me.
“Wellington.”
“Oh. Where is that?”
“New Zealand, Kenji,” she replies with a good-natured laugh.
“And what made you end up here?” I press as I glance toward the door when the bells ring. I nod at Carter who breezes by the both of us with a wave.
“To live the American Dream,” she says wryly.
I grin at her, then pat her shoulder before I walk into the back of the shop.
I fish around my pocket for my keyring, flip through them until I find the one that unlocks the door to my room, then slip it in and turn until I hear the lock click.
“Hey, man! You got a sec?” I call out to Carter before I walk through my door.
“Yep!”
“Be right there,” I call back as I step into my room and flip the lights on. I’ll have to ask Sariah how many people I have booked for today.
When she got here and realized how shitty I am at keeping my appointment book maintained, she took it over, and hoards the goddamn thing like it’s made of gold.
It’s nice to have a helping hand, though, and she’s always been nothing but helpful since the day we hired her.
I decide not to set up my room right away since I don’t know when my first client of the day will arrive. After I shrug my jacket off and drop it onto my chair, I scratch my neck as I walk out of the room and take the few steps towards Carter’s door.
I knock and wait patiently until he looks up at me. He hates being interrupted when he’s fiddling with his tattoo gun, but I understand it. They can be fickle machines sometimes and you always want to provide the best for your paying customers.
“What can I do you for so early in the goddamn day, Kenji?” he asks, after he snaps the final rubber band into place, then looks up at me with a grin.
I return the grin as I lean a hand against his door and cross my legs at the ankles. I wait as I watch his expression go from a playful version of what the fuck now to you’re hiding something before I step in and close the door firmly behind me.
“What’s up, Kenj?” he asks curiously as I reach for one of the stools he keeps in the room. Usually the college girls that aren’t regulars come with a gaggle of friends and the stools are for them to pile onto while the brave one of the bunch tries to sit under a machine of nonstop needles for a few hours.
“I finally broke her in last night,” I tell him, the grin on my face widening.
“No shit,” he says with a laugh as he gets to his feet and we slap palms. “I was wondering why you weren’t wearing that Miura scowl when I walked in, but it looks like the pussy fairy finally dropped by your place.”
I groan and let out a laugh trying to hide the embarrassment. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but pussy fairy definitely wasn’t on the list.
“How was it?” he asks as he goes back to setting up his station and I shrug. I don’t know what he’s looking for in an answer, but he knows damn well what it feels like.
“Tight,” I finally say when I decide on an answer and Carter chuckles.
“And how’s the training going?”
“That’s actually going pretty good,” I say thoughtfully as I slip my hands into my pocket. “Yesterday she slipped, but I don’t think she does it often.”
“Slipped how?” he presses absentmindedly as he sprays down one of his metal trays.
“I came home, and she wasn’t in the corner, but it didn’t bother me too much.”
Carter looks up at me incredulously and I know that he b
elieves that about as much as I do.
“When do I get to work on her again?” he asks through a yawn as he sets his tray down and picks up another one.
Carter’s been eager to get back to the simple, delicate modifications we’ve been doing on Snow. I watch with a smile as he places his next tray down and reaches for a folder instead. But it’s not just any folder; it’s a special one.
The one that we use to keep all of the ideas and sketches of how Snow will look when we’re finally done with her.
I reach over and swipe it from his grasp. As I flip it over and look at the back of the sketch, I sigh before I had it back.
“What’s wrong?” he asks curiously as I hold the paper out to him. I wait until he tucks it away neatly into the folder, then goes back to his obsessive tray washing.
“I don’t know. I thought by leaving her topless for a while that her back would start to heal.”
“The stitches bust or something?”
I shake my head, “Nah. Those were done tight enough to hold. I think she’s been picking at them when I haven’t been home.”
“Well, just say when and I’ll swing by and redo them. She has to be healed up before I can get back in there and starting putting the implants into place. How else is she going to be able to fly?” he asks slyly.
I rub my chin thoughtfully.
Snow’s been doing a lot of things it seems when I’ve been at work or out trying to clear my head, and it seems that I’m only now starting to realize it.
“Kenji?” Carter presses with a chuckle.
“Whenever you have time,” I reply with a shrug.
Carter nods as he wipes down the back of the tray and I know the conversation is over.
He helps me break in Snow when she’s disobedient by treating her like more of an animal than I do. We’ve been modifying her slightly too and I think she secretly likes it.
Nothing too drastic, but just enough to make her look like my dream girl and we always numb her first.
Pain isn’t part of the lessons unless I delve them out to her, and last night, we both learned that pain only comes with pleasure.
Snow deserves to be loved and I do it in my own way.
“Hey, New Zealand!” I call out as I walk out of Carter’s room, “What’s on the menu for today?”
Sariah lets out a high-pitched giggle and I can hear the top desk drawer being opened, then closed. A few moments later, the sounds of her flipflops slapping against the shop door greets my ears.
And when she enters my room, she stays silent—something that Sariah has never done before.
“What’s up?” I ask, as I sit in my chair and lean down. I reach for the large case beneath my station and place it on the recliner in front of me. Once I’ve unclicked the case and pushed the lid open, I look up and give her my full attention.
She’s giving me an icy stare and I’m wondering if maybe she eavesdropped on my little catch up with Carter.
Don’t be disobedient, I will her silently while I plaster a huge, faux smile on my face. Disobedient little pups always require training.
“I don’t want her here,” she says in an even tone, turning the book toward me and pointing at a name.
I squint at the book, but because she’s still by the door, I can’t make heads or tails of who the fuck she’s pointing at.
“Okay,” I reply with a shrug as I go back to setting my machine up. “Who and how come?”
I begin to fiddle with the gun as I snap pieces into place. Sariah stays silent until I glance up at her again, this time with genuine curiosity.
“Hazel Miller. I don’t want her in this fucking shop.”
I blink rapidly a few times.
I don’t recall her paying the rent for this building or writing the paychecks to tell me who is and who isn’t allowed inside, however, there’s not much that usually bothers her so …
“Okay, so that’s the who, now I need to know the how come,” I say as I set the machine down and push my hair behind my ears.
“This bitch is the reason my brother got sent to Irongate,” she replies through grit teeth before she spins on her heel and walks out of my room.
Chapter Eight
My appointments came and went without so much as another peep from Sariah. I called Hazel and canceled, telling her that I had double booked her and to come back in about a week and a half.
Considering Sariah’s brother gets out of prison in a week, I think that would be the perfect time for her to take a few days off and get reacquainted with him.
I’ll sneak Hazel in and out, and she’ll never know. Plus, I’ll make damn sure that the butterfly is finished this time before I permanently ban her from the shop.
I haven’t decided what excuse I’ll give, but more than likely it’ll be about her running out on me the first time.
It seems reasonable enough in my opinion, anyway.
“Let me give you a ride home, New Zealand.”
She glances up at me as she finishes fixing up the front desk for the evening and nods once to let me know that she accepts my chivalrous offer.
It’s so rare to see Sariah in such a bad mood, that I scratch the back of my head nervously. I feel awkward standing there waiting for her to collect her belongings, since I’m used to her sarcastic attitude and witty one-liners.
But Hazel Miller has turned Sariah Taylor into an angry girl—and it’s a new experience for me.
“See you guys tomorrow,” Carter says as he walks out of the shop quickly. It seems that he’s bothered by it too but he’s not good at hiding his emotions so he just makes a run for it when he can.
Sariah finally gets to her feet and grabs her shawl off the back of her chair, purse strapped over her shoulder and inches around me so that she can lead the way out of the shop.
There are certain things in life that really aren’t the business of others, Snow being mine, yet I’m dying to know what kind of man her brother is and what exactly happened with Hazel to land him at Irongate.
Sariah waits patiently by the front door as I step into the cool, night air and lock up. She’s not going to be an easy one to break, but I have every confidence that I can at least put a crack into her tough girl armor.
Even if it’s a small one.
All cracks eventually spider into bigger ones, breaking down the foundations they’re meant to hold together, and maybe then she’ll tell me what the fucking deal is.
We walk across the street to the parking lot that’s empty of all cars but mine, and I unlock the passenger side door, holding it open, then closing it behind her once she’s comfortably inside.
“Nice car, Kenji,” she says after I’ve slid into the passenger seat and I cast her a grin.
I’m quite proud of my Dodge Charger SXT, and it’s nice that someone else seems to be as well. It’s got a shine to its black paint, an extremely comfortable leather seat interior, and faster than a most cop cars on the road today.
I don’t use this one to drag race, though I do like to show it off when those come together.
“Thanks, kid,” I say as I put the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life.
She shakes her head fondly and lets out a sigh as she straps her seatbelt across her body, and I chuckle.
“I’ll go slow, Grandma,” I tease her as I look both ways then pull out of the parking lot.
Sariah reaches over and swats my arm and I grin at her before I turn my eyes back toward the road.
“Where do you live?” I ask as I roll my window down and reach for a cigarette.
“Crenshaw.”
“Cool, I know where that is, just tell me when to stop,” I tell her before I slip the smoke between my teeth. I push the lighter button on the console as I ease up at the red light we’ve rolled up to.
For now, the car is silent and I’m only aware of her again when she nudges me and nods toward the lighter. Apparently, it popped already but I was too lost wherever the hell my mind wandered off to, to no
tice.
“Thanks,” I say as I retrieve it and hold it to the end of my cigarette. I puff a couple of times until it’s lit then replace the lighter and rub my forehead with my thumb.
“So, have you talked to your brother about applying at the shop?” I ask. It’ll be an easy segue into what I really want to know and I’m sure she’ll let her guard down a little if she assumes this is a business discussion as opposed to the interrogation I feel building inside of me.
“Yeah,” she replies. I can see her nod out of the corner of my eye and chuckle when she waves away the billow of smoke that’s drifted toward her.
“And?” I ask as I use the button on my door console to open her window slightly.
“Thanks, Kenji,” she says as she stifles a cough, “He said he’s pumped that someone is willing to give him a chance to learn.”
I take a drag of my smoke.
I like to teach.
Snow learns discipline from me and…
“What’s his name?” I ask Sariah curiously.
“Hudson.”
And Hudson will learn how to hone his craft from me, I reason as I blow a stream of smoke out of the corner of my mouth.
“It’ll be cool to have another artist at the shop,” I say conversationally. “Besides, I don’t judge people on what they’ve done or where they’ve been. Everyone deserves a fair shake if you ask me.”
Sariah takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. I can’t help but wonder if she’s caught on to where I’m trying to lead the conversation, but if she does, she refuses to take the bait.
“Thanks, boss,” she says softly.
I glance at her again and smile before I shake my head.
She’s not going to give it up tonight, and that’s okay.
Hudson will have to tell Carter and me what he did on his application anyway.
“Next stop, Crenshaw!” I say as cheerfully as I can to lighten the mood. Sariah clears her throat and then the rest of the way to her house is marred in silence.
And that’s okay.
Another Family Affair Page 8
