Heart of a Prick

by Ella Miles

  “Good girl,” he whispers into my ear when I do everything I can to follow his command.

  I don’t know if he has a condom on or not. I don’t know if the entire staff can see us right now or not. But neither matters. My body is his. He can do whatever he wants to it. I instantly trust him. And the way he controls my body shows me just how correct I was in giving him that power.

  “Aw, baby, I can already feel your pussy starting to tighten around my cock.”

  I pant, unable to bite down on my lip any longer.

  “You want to come so badly.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t get to come. Not yet. You’re not ready.”

  I swallow, trying to push down my orgasm that I’m on the edge of having.

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t come, Skye,” he commands as he fucks me, making it almost impossible for me not to.

  I try to hold on to his words. I try to do exactly what he says when every part of my body is begging me to do the opposite. I need to come. My body won’t let me hold back much longer.

  He grabs on to my hips as he pushes his thick, long cock into me harder, driving me so close to the edge that I’m not sure there is anything that can keep me from coming.

  “No, Skye,” he warns.

  I stop. I don’t know how his words are able to control me despite his body pushing me to do the opposite. But my body listens. At least, one more time.

  “You want to come, Skye?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think you’ve earned it?”

  “Yes.”

  He snickers. “You think this was hard, but you don’t know how bad I can be.”

  I suck in a breath, trying desperately to hold on as he continues to thrust harder, making the task impossible.

  “Come.”

  One tiny word, and my body responds. My pussy tightens around his cock as my body explodes more fiercely than the fireworks still shooting off in front of us. I don’t know if I’m still supposed to be quiet or not, but I can’t be quiet. I open my mouth to moan, and his mouth captures mine. I moan into his mouth instead of screaming into the night.

  I don’t know if he comes. I don’t notice the fireworks. I don’t notice if anyone is watching us. All I can do is come over and over until my body finally stills.

  I’m a strong woman. I work out daily. But I have no strength left. I collapse into his arms, unable to even stand.

  He grins like the asshole he is.

  “I think I chose correctly,” I say, trying to catch my breath and strength.

  He tucks his cock back into his pants before he scoops me up into his arms. “I didn’t do my job very well if you are still thinking about other men.”

  My head rests against his hard chest. I want him to get naked in one of the bedrooms. I want to do that again and again, but I can barely move.

  “I’m not thinking of them.”

  He smirks. “I know.”

  He carries me inside and down a hallway, stopping outside a door that has our names written on it in hearts.

  “What did Bayron think? That he would put our name on a couple of hearts, and by the end of the date, I would be proposing to you?” he asks as he pushes the door open.

  We both stare at the bed that is covered in rose petals and has two swan towels kissing. There is a bottle of champagne chilling with chocolate-covered strawberries sitting on the table next to the bed.

  I sigh. “I think that is exactly what Bayron was thinking.”

  “I don’t want to put you on the bed.”

  “Why? You think I’ll catch romantic fever if you let me near some rose petals?”

  “No, I think we are both going to fall asleep before I get to fuck you again.”

  He looks down at me, and I see the lust that I feel reflecting in his eyes.

  “But, if I put you down anywhere else, I’m afraid you will collapse from exhaustion.”

  I laugh. “Whose fault is that?”

  “Fine. I’ll let you sleep well tonight, but you’d better get plenty of rest because, tomorrow, I plan on making up for lost time.”

  I bite my lip, liking that thought. “Deal.”

  He tosses me onto the bed and climbs into bed next to me.

  “You’re not going to undress?” I ask, disappointed.

  “If I undress either of us, I’m going to fuck you again. And, since you trusted me with your body, I know I need to pace ourselves so that I can have a full day with you tomorrow.”

  I sigh. “Fine.”

  His arms wrap around me, and I snuggle against his body. I’m not sure if snuggling breaks the rules of getting too close or doing anything other than sex, but right now, I’m too tired to think about it.

  “Why did you pick me instead of the dickhead?” he asks.

  My eyes open, and I turn. “Why does it matter?”

  “Because I’m a man, and I need to know that I blew away my competition.”

  I laugh. “Sorry, the competition was close. I chose you because you kissed better.”

  “Not because of the naughty things I said?”

  I blush. I don’t want to tell him that I was so caught up with the other guy that I didn’t even hear what he said.

  He shakes his head. “That’s what I thought. You didn’t even hear what I said, did you?”

  I blush a deeper shade of red. “No.”

  He growls, “Well then, you missed out.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow.”

  I sigh. “Tell me.”

  “I’ll show you later. Now, sleep, and if you dream about dickface or even think about him again, I’ll punish you.”

  He pulls me close against his body, and I close my eyes. He thinks I thought of another guy for even a second after he fucked me. That’s his goal—to eliminate any thoughts of any other man from my brain. He just doesn’t realize that he’s already done it.

  He’s fucked me once, and my body already belongs to him. I can’t remember any other man ever fucking me. And, as much as I want to sleep, all I can think about is forcing my brain to try to remember what dirty, filthy thing he said to me so that I can figure out what naughty thing he has planned for me tomorrow.

  4

  Brody

  Why the fuck did I bring up dickface?

  Because I’m a jealous asshole who can’t tolerate her thinking about any man other than me. I needed to hear her say that she was mine. Because I’m a controlling fucker who wants complete control over her body.

  I’m already close to controlling her body. Her body followed almost every command. I could have made her come anytime after my cock entered her pussy. She would have done anything I wanted. But she still tried to scream. That was the only command she couldn’t completely follow.

  One fuck, and I already own her body. But my dark heart wants to control more than just her body. I want to control everything about her. Her every movement. Her every breath. Who she talks to. What she does. What she thinks.

  I’ve gotten one tiny taste of what controlling her would be like, and now, my thoughts have turned into an asshole. Only a giant prick would want this much control over another person.

  I thought I came here to get away from the control that I was used to at home. But, instead, I came here and got more control over another person than I’d ever thought they would give me. I got a taste of what I’d always wanted but never thought I could have. And, now, I want more.

  She stirs in my arms. She’s been out since about five minutes after her head hit the pillow. Yesterday was exhausting for her. But today is going to be much worse. I have too many dirty thoughts playing in my head that I need to experience with her. We only have a week together. And I plan on making the most of it by playing out every dark fantasy that either of us has ever had.

  She grins when she sees me.

  “Sleep well?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  She stretche
s her arms over her head. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, get off my arm. You’ve been lying on it all night.”

  She rolls off my arm with a giggle. “You’re not serious, right? I haven’t actually been lying on your arm all night.”

  I rub my arm, trying to get the feeling back into it. “I’m dead serious.”

  “You could have just moved me.”

  “But then you might have woken up.”

  She narrows her eyes as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “We should probably get going. I want to get out of this dress, and the staff would probably like time to clean before their next excursion.”

  She walks out of the bedroom without giving me a chance to respond. I follow her, hating that she is making a decision without me. I wanted her one more time on the yacht first, but by the time I chase after her, she is already thanking the crew and exiting the boat.

  I run after her. “What are you doing?”

  She turns and looks at me, still staring at me with her big eyes. “Exactly what I said. Getting off the boat and going back to my room to shower and get ready for the day.”

  I frown. “I’m the one in control this week. You do what I say. You don’t get to make decisions anymore.”

  Her eyes brighten in amusement. “No, you get control over my body when we are having sex. We aren’t fucking right now, so that means I have control over my own decisions. Understand? If not, I’ll find a new man.”

  I take a step toward her and tower over her. “You wouldn’t find a new man. You want my cock, not anyone else’s. And, as far as our agreement, fine. I control your body when we are fucking, nothing more.”

  “Thank you. Now, I’m going to go up to my room to shower and put my swimsuit on. Meet me in my room in twenty.”

  I nod and watch her walk off to go change. I agree because it’s what I want. I want her in her swimsuit. I want to fuck her again, but just because I want to fuck her doesn’t mean we have to stay in the bedroom.

  The door to her suite opens, and my jaw drops for more than one reason. The swimsuit that she is wearing is racy as hell. It’s white and simple, but that is where the innocence of it ends. The front barely covers her breasts, and her nipples push hard against the fabric into peaks that I’m desperate to suck.

  “Come in,” she says, turning, and that’s when I get the view of her ass in a thong bikini.

  Goddamn, her body is amazing. It’s clear that she works out regularly, and whatever she is doing, it’s working. Really, really working. The muscles in her legs and ass draw me in and make me think of a few too many crazy positions to try. I know last night took a lot out of her, but it wasn’t because her body couldn’t handle it. It was more like her mind wasn’t prepared for it. It makes my naughty plans for today that much more exciting.

  And then I get a view of her suite, and my jaw drops again. She either is the highest-priced veterinarian in the country to be able to afford a suite like this or she has other money. The suite is three times the size of mine. I thought mine was outrageous and one of the best suites, but clearly, I was wrong. She has her own private pool in her room along with two hot tubs, an amazing view of the ocean, a living room, a dining room, and it looks like at least two or three bedrooms that jet off from the main room.

  “What do you think of my swimsuit?” Skye asks, flaunting her body in front of me as she puts sunglasses on her head.

  I growl.

  She laughs. “That was the answer I was hoping for.”

  I bite my lip to keep from asking my questions about how she makes this kind of money. We promised we wouldn’t share anything personal about each other, but now that I’ve seen her room, I have a better understanding of why we got the yacht yesterday. The resort didn’t pay for it. She did. Either through her payments on this room or separately, it doesn’t matter. She paid for it.

  “Want to go to the beach or stay here and do something naughty?” she asks as she bends over, flashing me a view of her plump, tight ass.

  I want her. But I can’t have her here. Not right now. My ego can’t handle it. Not until I figure out how she has this much money. I need to know if she earned it or if she has a rich daddy or something that is paying for all of this.

  “Both.”

  Her eyes light up.

  I walk over to the bag she has been packing for the beach and pick it up, throwing it over my shoulder before I take her hand.

  She gives me a disappointed look. But I don’t let it stop me. I lead her out until I find a private spot on the beach with two lounge chairs and an umbrella. I dig her towel out of the bag and put it on one of the chairs.

  “I’ll go get you a drink. What do you want?”

  She frowns. “You don’t need to get me a drink. A bartender will be around in a few minutes.”

  “No need to wait. I’ll get you something now. Do you just want whatever the drink of the day is or a piña colada or what?”

  “Drink of the day is fine,” she says.

  I expect her to smile or give me some indication that she is happy that I’m doing something nice for her. Instead, I get a blank expression. I walk away up the beach and toward the bar that sits on the edge of the property.

  I pull out my phone as I walk and type in everything that I know about her, which isn’t much. Her first name and that she’s a veterinarian. And then I hope that something comes up.

  I take a seat on one of the small circular barstools attached to the bar.

  “Can I get two drinks of the day?” I ask while I wait for my Wi-Fi connection to kick in and pull up the results.

  The bartender nods and begins making our drinks.

  Slowly, the search results start coming up. I click on the first article and watch as her big eyes and sly lips come up on the screen. The only difference between her now and in this picture is that her hair was red then and, now, it’s blue. I didn’t expect to find out much about her so quickly without even a last name to go off of. I glance to the two other people in the image next to her and read the caption. But I guess, when you are friends with a princess and prince, Google assumes you are searching for that famous Skye and not someone else.

  I continue reading through the article but don’t find out much more about her. I search through other articles, but all I can find out about Skye is her connection to her princess best friend. I don’t find anything about a rich father or that she sold a company that made her millions. She has a rich friend. That must be why she is treated like royalty when she comes here even though she isn’t a princess herself; she knows a princess.

  I close my phone as the bartender hands me our drinks.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking the drinks and walking back to Skye.

  My ego feels less crushed, knowing that she doesn’t make outrageous amounts of money; she just has a rich friend who takes care of her.

  “Here you go,” I say, holding her drink out to her.

  “Thanks,” she says, forcing a fake smile onto her lips.

  She sits on her lounge chair, half in and half out of the sun.

  “Do you want me to move the umbrella, so you are out of the sun? Or do you want to work on your tan?” I ask.

  “I’m fine as is.”

  I take a seat in the lounge chair next to her, and we both stare out at the ocean while drinking our drinks. I’ll give her a few minutes just to enjoy the beach before I make my move. It’s a quarter till eleven. I’ll start my plan on the hour. It will make it easier for me to execute.

  She eyes me out of the corner of her eye as she drinks, but she doesn’t say anything. She just drinks, like I’m not even here, obviously lost in thought.

  I take her hand and gently kiss it.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice exploding with her anger toward me, which she has obviously been hiding all morning.

  “Kissing your hand,” I say, confused as to why she is so upset.

  She pulls her hand away and sits up, straddling the lounge chair. “No, what
are you doing, being so nice to me? The opening doors for me and carrying my bag and fetching me drinks and, now, kissing my hand. It has to stop!”

  I wrinkle my forehead because I think she has absolutely lost it. “I can’t do nice things for you? Why?”

  “Because that’s not what we are. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. We aren’t dating. We aren’t doing anything with emotions. We are just fucking. The rougher, the better. So, stop being so nice to me.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “I can’t be nice to you? Seriously? I get that you want the bad boy in the bedroom, but what I’ve done so far isn’t even that nice. I got you a drink and carried your bag. So what? Next time we need a drink, you can go get it if it will make you feel better.”

  “It will.”

  “Fine.” I slurp down the rest of my drink. “Then, get me a refill.”

  She smirks and storms off toward the bar to get us new drinks while I try to figure out what the hell just happened. She’s an independent firecracker. I know that. I just didn’t realize that doing anything for her would turn into such a fight. There is something I’m missing. I know that. I just don’t know what it is or if it matters.

  I have six days left with her. I just have to let more of my asshole nature out so that she doesn’t feel like I want something after the six days are up. I don’t. And not trying is easy. I’ll just pretend like she doesn’t exist, except when I want sex from her.

  “Here,” she says, roughly handing me my drink.

  I take the drink from her without saying thank you, without a grin, without anything.

  She carefully watches me as she takes a seat next to me. “You’re not living up to your end of the deal.”

  I exhale deeply, closing my eyes and leaning back. “How am I not living up to the deal?”

  “You’re supposed to be giving me hot, I can’t move for a week sex. Not lying around, giving me compliments, and getting me drinks.”

  I don’t open my eyes. “Seven minutes.”

  “What?”

  “I’m giving you I can’t move for a week sex starting in seven minutes.”

  “Why seven minutes?”