Unjustified Demands

by Jordan Marie

  I grab the bitch’s cigarettes from her fumbling hands. Taking one out and handing it to her, I keep the pack in my hand, taking the lighter too. Maybe she’s starting to wise up, or maybe she just really wants that cigarette, but I sense the change in her. I have her complete attention now.

  “I own Miami. When I say I own it, I mean this shithole you’re living in too. It will look like fucking heaven compared to what I can do to you. You’re a miserable fuck, I get that. You are probably like your fucking son and would rather die than keep drawing breath. What you need to realize is, there’s much worse things than dying, and I can make sure you find that out firsthand.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asks, but I hear the nervousness in her voice; I see her eyes and how they are dilated.

  “You like drugs. I have friends use this stuff on their enemies that, with one injection, turns you into a vegetable. When I say that, I mean you will be fully alert, fully awake, but hooked to a machine that feeds you, have diapers on your ass, and not be able to bitch about how miserable you are. Unable to move. It’s bad shit. I’ve never been tempted to deal with it. That is, until I saw a miserable bitch raise a hand to my woman.”

  “Ana is—”

  “My property. Mine. No one touches what’s mine, least of all you. Your hand, your words, your breath no longer touch my woman. If I hear it does, I promise you, you’ll find out firsthand what living in real hell feels like.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “You think? Ask around. I guarantee people here know who Roman Anthes is, even if you’re too stupid to. You don’t want me as an enemy, woman, but that’s too late for you. Much too late. If Ana comes back, you best be a fucking saint ready to kiss her fucking feet. And believe me lady, I’ll have eyes on you from here on out.”

  The bitch wisely doesn’t say another word. I smash her cigarettes up in my hand. The smell of tobacco fills the air around me. I make sure there’s not one motherfucker in the pack that can still be used before letting them fall to her lap, then I walk to the door.

  “Don’t try me on this bitch,” I warn her on my way out. “I’ve never had much taste for harming a woman, but after what I’ve just seen, I’d make an exception for you, and I’d fucking enjoy every minute of it.” With that, I toss the lighter across the room, having it land on the floor a few feet from her. Then I leave. Time to deal with Ana next. Thank fuck that will be more enjoyable than the other shit I’ve dealt with today.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ana

  I’m walking slowly from the building, keeping my tears at bay and trying to keep from running from the nursing home. I fucking hate dealing with my mother. I hate it. It brings back too many ugly memories, too many things I’ve spent my life trying to hide from. The last thing in the world that I wanted was for Roman to witness my shame.

  And my mother is my shame. She always has been. I hate her. I despise her and yet I can never seem to turn my back on her. I force myself to visit her once a month. If I went more than that, I’d probably be one of those people about to jump off a ledge they used to send my unit out on sometimes. Dealing with her makes me feel that desperate. It makes me feel that stupid. How can I still feel any type of responsibility or loyalty towards someone who doesn’t deserve it? Someone who was high my entire childhood, passed out, or in emergency rooms from overdosing? Someone who let drug addicts and johns into the same house she kept a twelve-year-old girl and a nine-year-old boy while she worked out her next high?

  Roman wasn’t wrong. There’s a reason I sleep with a gun under my pillow. A big reason, and it has nothing to do with being a cop. It has more to do with a frightened little girl and boy hiding in a closet scared the latest monster would be worse than the one before. It has more to do with the last time a fucking asshole thought it was okay to try and rape a sixteen-year-old girl. One man stopped him: Paul Banks. He took me out of the hellhole, set my brother and me in county care, and took an interest in seeing me succeed. I tried to get Allen to follow me, but I think the memories haunted him more. I’m not sure. He turned to the same shit that helped make our life miserable to begin with. There are days I can’t forgive him for that. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I jump when Robert touches my shoulder.

  “Go ahead and get inside, Ms. Stevens,” he says, surprising me.

  “Ana,” I tell him, and my voice is thick with unshed tears.

  “Ana,” he says gently. Maybe he can sense how close I am to breaking.

  I get into the limo and look out the far window, lost in memories I’ve spent a lifetime trying to forget. I’m so deep in them I almost didn’t notice Roman opening the door and sliding in beside me, pushing me further on the seat. It takes him all of two minutes to grab me and haul me back on his lap. His arms go around me and his heat slowly melts into my body as I relax against him, burying my head in his chest.

  “I know I told you to do nothing today and rest. To wait for me to get some business done so I could help you move to the house.”

  “I needed to visit the sea creature.”

  “The sea creature?”

  “Vanessa. The womb donor from hell. Everyone always call her Nessie. She was more terrifying than the loch ness monster growing up. So Allen and I took to calling her the sea creature.”

  “Let me guess. You and your brother were into Sci-Fi when you were younger?”

  “We had a neighbor, Mrs. Lancaster. She loved old movies. We’d sneak over there when mom was out and watch television and Mrs. Lancaster would feed us. It was fun. I still watch the movies today with a smile.”

  “What happened to Mrs. Lancaster?”

  “She passed away last year.”

  “A pity.”

  “Yeah. She has a great-granddaughter. She’s working herself through school by waitressing. Mrs. Lancaster’s daughter died of cancer. Life is cold sometimes, Roman,” I whisper, keeping my head buried in his chest.

  “That it is, pet. Let’s get back to your apartment, pack up, and get you moved in to my place.”

  “You still want me around, even knowing what kind of branches exist in my family tree?” I ask him, only half-joking. My mother is my dirty little secret; one I’ve kept hidden from everyone but Paul. The only reason he knows is because of our past. I would have gladly made sure no one ever found out, especially Roman.

  “Maybe because of it,” he says, and I go completely tense. No. That’s not happening.

  “I don’t want pity, Roman. I’m not some kid in need of rescue now. Maybe I once was, but I rescue myself now. I don’t have to depend on anyone. I fought hard to get that, and I don’t want you trying to swoop in and make it better for the poor charity case. That’s not—”

  I trail off when he grabs the side of my neck and pulls my face up until I’m looking at him.

  “I’m trying to go about this gentle, pet, because you’re upset.”

  “I’m not…”

  “Don’t lie to me. If the way your body is shaking doesn’t give you away, the tears in your eyes do. So this is me, a man not used to putting others first, trying to be gentle with you. But I know you can feel the way my cock is hard against your ass and I think you get I want to be touching you and holding you all of the time. If not, let me spell it out for you. There’s not a fucking thing about you I view with pity. I see a strong woman, a beautiful woman. I see a woman I want to fuck and dominate and lose myself in over and over. I see a woman I’ve claimed and one I won’t give up. I see a woman who fucking fascinates me to the point that I canceled the rest of my day so I can spend most of the afternoon being gentle with her in hopes of getting between her legs without feeling guilt tonight, when I’m not so gentle.”

  “There’s a lot there to take in,” I tell him, my brain replaying his words. All of them and everything they say storms through me and they make me feel alive. Roman doesn’t give flowery words and seduction. His words are raw. I could be lying to myself, but I think they are full of truth. I dec
ide to give him truth in return. “What if I don’t want gentle?”

  “Ana.”

  “What if I need the exact opposite of gentle from you, Roman?” His eyes literally bore into me for a minute, maybe two. Then he reaches over and pushes the button on the door.

  “Yeah, boss?” Robert’s voice comes over the intercom.

  “Change of plans. Take us to my apartment, Robert,” Roman tells him, then immediately turns the intercom off. The heated way he looks at me makes everything inside of me grow hot. “I hope you know what you’re asking for, pet,” he warns me.

  So do I.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Roman

  The rest of the ride is tense silence. Tense because I really want to fuck her now and not wait. The only thing that stops me is, I want her in a bed. Correction: I want her tied to the bed and at my mercy.

  Somehow, I make it out of the limo and elevator without attacking her. The way she keeps looking at me, the obvious desire on her face, and the ragged breathing that makes her breasts literally dance with each breath, all combine to make that a near miss. So much so that when I turn to close the apartment door, locking us inside, I remain facing the door to calm my breathing. At this rate, it will be over way too soon and I don’t want that. Ana is a flower I need to unwrap one sweet, delicate petal at a time.

  “Roman?” Ana questions.

  “Bedroom. Now, Ana. Lose the clothes and lie on your stomach and wait for me,” I tell her without looking at her, going to the bar to grab a drink. I need to calm down, to take the edge off before I go to her. I expected her to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she silently walks down the hall to the master suite. I watch her go, my eyes transfixed on the way her jeans hug her ass. I finish my drink and pour another one, all while barely taking my eyes off of the last place I saw Ana before she disappeared. All while imagining her on my bed naked and waiting for me, that tight ass of hers sticking up in the air. I down my second drink, not even taking the time to enjoy it. I’ve held back as long as I can. When I clear the doorway to the bedroom, I almost come in my fucking jeans.

  I thought I was prepared, but I realize there’s no way you could be prepared for this. Ana is resting on the dark purple sheets on my bed. Her milky white body, a perfect contrast. Her blonde hair is scattered across her neck and shoulders, her head turned to the side, and those violet eyes are watching me. How did I get to be the lucky son of a bitch to have her in my bed? How in the fuck did I survive before she came along? More importantly, how the fuck did I get so wrapped up in her in such a short time? All are good questions, and all of the answers to those questions don’t matter one fuck. The point is, she’s here now, and she’s mine.

  I take off my cufflinks, leaving them on the small table by the door, my eyes glued to Ana’s. She swallows nervously as I loosen the tie from around my neck.

  “You get that you are mine now, pet? How it displeases me if you put yourself in a situation where you could be hurt?” I ask her, walking towards the bed and wrapping the tie around both my hands, stretching it.

  “I’m sorry, Roman,” she whispers. I expected arguing, something.

  “On your knees, Ana, and face me,” I order. Her eyes go wide, but she does as I order. “Give me your hands.”

  My eyes could get entranced by the way her breasts sway with her movements and the puckering of her nipples as she reaches out her hands to me. Everything about Ana screams feminine and it calls to the man inside of me whose job it is to claim and protect it. I pull her hands together so the wrists touch and caress one another. I wrap my tie around the delicate area, admiring how small and perfectly contoured she is. There’s not a part of her body that I don’t love—not a part that I don’t want to stamp my ownership on.

  “Roman?” she asks, not quite knowing what she’s asking, but I understand. I read the excitement coursing through her body almost as clearly as the fear that broadcasts in her eyes. Fear. Another emotion that calls to the man inside of me. The beast that is at my core. The need to conquer and possess.

  “Turn and face the headboard, pet,” I instruct.

  The delicate muscles of her throat work as she swallows and turns to do as I said. Just another thing to be fascinated over. I love everything about how her throat works when it is drinking down every drop of my cum. Each time seems different, special. Will it always be that way? That’s definitely something I will devote myself to learning. I take the ends of my tie and secure them to the latch I keep attached by a clasp under the mattress. It will give her limited movement, which is exactly what I want. I then start slowly unbuttoning my shirt. Our eyes are locked and the look on her face makes me feel like a King. Greedy. She’s greedy for whatever comes next. For what I give her, next.

  “You were a bad girl, Ana. You are not to leave unless I, Robert, or one of the security men who work for me knows where you’re going or is with you. The fact that you snuck away from me and could have been hurt displeases me,” I tell her, tossing my shirt on a chair as if I didn’t have a care in the world, as if I wasn’t about to explode.

  “I never agreed to all of that, Roman. Besides I only went to visit my mother,” she whispers, her head going down into the pillow as her breathing increases to the point I can see it shudder through her body. My hand goes under her chin and I pull her face back to look at me because I need her to see what I’m saying. I need her to know how serious I am.

  “She is not a mother. You will not mention her name in our bed again. Do you understand?”

  It might be unreasonable, but the woman I met today was no mother. There was nothing maternal in her body. She was a monster, and I know without even investigating further that she left scars on Ana. Scars that you might not see on the outside, but are there nonetheless.

  “Roman…”

  “Answer me, Ana.”

  “You said… ‘our bed’…”

  Her words make me stall for a split-second until I see the emotion in her face. Does she not realize the rules that I’ve broken for her? Does she not get that I’m completely obsessed with her? What could she have possibly thought I meant when I said I claimed her?

  I reach out and slide my hand down her head, my fingers playing with the whisper-soft blonde tendrils. The pads of my fingers trail down the skin on the back of her neck. I smile as a shiver rakes through her as slow as a lover’s caress. My hand continues along her back, leisurely traveling the plains of her body and committing it to memory. I stop when I reach her lower back. Her ass curves out, forming a perfect half-globe shape that tantalizes me. My hands move down to massage each cheek, my fingers biting into them and pulling them apart to see that small dark opening they hide.

  “Do you know who owns this body, Ana?” I ask her, my tone light as if I’m talking about the weather and betraying nothing of the need inside of me. Along with my question, I continue applying pressure into one of her cheeks while I take my other hand and move lower between her legs. I take my index and middle finger and dive between the lips of her pussy, pushing and seeking until I find that swollen clit. She’s soaked with need, and if I didn’t have other plans, I would slide under her and let her ride my face until she smothered me in sweet cream. Instead, I drag them back through her pussy and up to that small forbidden hole in her ass. I push them inside without warning. She squeezes down on them, trying to reject their entry, crying out. I hold her ass still with my hand and push until my fingers break free of the muscles guarding the tight opening.

  “Roman!” she cries out, and my dick jumps. I feel a bead of pre-cum slide down my shaft. My balls are so full and ready to explode; they feel like steel weights.

  “Who owns your body, Ana?”

  “You do, Roman. God help us both, you do.”

  For some reason, her dramatic answer makes me smile. I slide my fingers in and out of her ass, pulling them apart to stretch her with each new entry. Ana is grinding her chest down on the bed, dragging her breasts against the silk fabric of the shee
ts. I take my fingers out and she whimpers when they don’t go back in. I have other plans, though. I move to the side of the bed, roughly pulling her up to her knees. I hold her until she manages to steady herself on her elbows. I go back to rubbing her ass with one hand while massaging her pussy with the other. She’s bucking against my hold, whimpering with need and trying to grind against my hand, thrusting towards it in uneven, completely broken thrusts. She’s fueled by lust and it’s beautiful—but not enough. I lean down, letting my breath fan against her side, my lips grazing her hip.

  “Such a beautiful little pussy. So hungry and greedy, it’s trying to devour my hand. You’d let me fuck you with my whole hand if I could get inside, wouldn’t you, pet? You’d do anything I ask right now if I just let you come. Say it, Ana.”

  “Anything,” she whispers on a heavy breath.

  I take my hands away, refusing to give her any kind of relief. Instead, I bring my palm hard on her ass. My dick jerks as the noise of my hand slapping that white fleshy ass rings through the room.

  “Roman!” she yells out in surprise.

  I spank her again, and again. She’s trying to get away, but that too is impossible, and by the time I deliver the tenth stinging slap, she’s thrusting up to meet my hand and panting.

  “I’ll ask you again, Ana. Who owns this body?”

  “You do!” she hisses.

  I manhandle her. There’s no other way to put it. There’s nothing easy about the need slamming through me right now. I flip her over. The small area of movement she had with the tie ceases as the fabric twists and wraps around her wrists one more time, pulling taut. She cries out, but her hands are positioned high above her head, just like I want them. This won’t last long, so I won’t worry the pain will be too much. Later, I’ll take her slower. Now, the need to be inside her has been too long denied.

  I push her legs up against her chest, opening that pussy to me. It’s so wet and covered in her juices, I could lose it right here. Instead, I spank the wet, juicy lips of her pussy. My dick cries as her body jerks up toward it. Her body shakes and I could swear a small orgasm runs through her body. She cries out my name and that drives me to take it further. I pull the lips of her pussy apart and slap my hand against it again, this time centering most of the attention on her hard, pulsating clit. She says something, but she’s so far gone the words are unrecognizable. Cream is literally pooling from her pussy, coating the side of her thighs. If I could stand it, I’d continue doing this over and over. Right now, my cock is demanding his due.