Hyland's Property
Page 6
I was enjoying this.
Whatever I said, however I chose to cope, I relished the way he denigrated me, tearing those climaxes from my clit, and now the way he was fucking me with the same awful sex toy. I should hate it, but I didn’t, or I didn’t only hate it. There was pleasure as well. Deep, tangible hedonism that grew at my core, burgeoning each time the vibrating monster speared me.
“Fuck, I’m going to come again.”
I could scarcely catch my breath at the revelation, the admission shocking. How was this possible? How was he able to bring me back to the brink when he wasn’t even touching my clit anymore? Hell, the sensitive bud was so sore, I was grateful he wasn’t stimulating it, yet still, he’d been able to harness all of my need, sending me right back to the edge again.
“Not without my permission, little girl.” Sean grinned at my gaping expression. “I know how good this is for you, but you’ve had quite enough orgasms. There’ll be no more until you agree to my terms.”
“No.” I arched my back as much as the fucking binds would allow. “No, please!”
Even though he was right—he had taken me higher than anyone and made me climax more than even Saul—the thought of not grasping this latest high was unbearable. Whatever this was, it was something new, a hedonism I had never known before, and the looming orgasm felt deep and powerful. I couldn’t give it up now. I hadn’t endured all of this torment to be left wanting and unsatisfied.
“Oh, yes.” He slowed the rhythm of the vibrator, smirking. “It’s time you learned the most important rule, baby girl—Sean always gets his way.”
I opened my mouth, panting for air as I tried to push back down on the plastic that had tempted and plagued me for so long, but it was too far away, held just out of reach of my greedy sex. I groaned with frustration as he laughed at my wanton display.
“No more, naughty girl,” he mocked. “Not until you get my permission.”
“Please.” My attention was back on him in a heartbeat, the passion tightening inside, willing to ignore everything—my embarrassment, my humiliating debasement—just to get this one final, momentous high. “Sir, tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”
Sean edged the tip back to my lips, pulsing it in and out of me, just enough to stir the gripping desire at my core, enough to give me hope. “Anything, eh?”
“Yes,” I assured him, pushing my hips up in a vain attempt to garner more of the pleasure. “Anything you say. Anything you want. I promise.”
This feeling was everything. This blooming pleasure, the likes of which I had never known. It was going to consume me, whatever happened, and I had to face the facts. I was either going to be overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure, left processing what was likely to be the greatest hedonism of my life, or I’d be left reeling with the loss, bereft at the way things ended without the soul-shaking orgasm, and still no closer to getting out of Sean’s grasp.
No, that couldn’t happen.
I couldn’t let that happen.
If I was going to be bound in this shit show, I might as well lap up the ecstasy. I may as well devour whatever he had to offer.
“I want you, Hilary.” He pushed the plastic deeper once more, and I panted at the tantalizing sensation as it stretched me, edging closer to my cervix. “Not just in this dark place, but in whatever dark place I choose to keep you.”
I was vaguely aware of his other hand moving for the remote control, but before I had time to process it, the vibrator sped up again, the intensity catching me unaware and making me cry out. He fucked me with it, withdrawing the offending toy before slamming it back into me, sending electricity bursting through my body and reawakening the unsatisfied need at my core, the part of me that reveled in this depravity. The part that longed to give up control and be used like this every day—the facet that wanted to be his.
“Yes, Sir!”
It was easier to say the words, simpler to give him what he wanted because I craved them, too. Not in real life, of course. There was still a sane and sensible element of me somewhere that knew I couldn’t cope with a monster like Sean in real life, but whoever that woman was, she was gagged and muted by the power of his presence. The ferocity of his control paralyzed her, just as I suspected the looming wall of pleasure would.
“I want to keep you tied and exposed.” His hard, blue eyes drilled into me, drinking in my fettered body and landing on the clothespins still biting at my nipples. “I want to keep you wet and desperate for me, on the edge like this, all day and all night.”
“Oh, fuck.” The things he proposed sounded so good—much better than I knew they would be, much better than they should.
“I’d want more than that.” His gaze widened imperceptibly as he leaned closer to my face, all the while, his left hand kept up its pace at my pussy, sliding the vibrating beast in and out of me. “This wouldn’t be enough. I’d want to make it official.”
God, I was close. So close. Close to this unknown quantity, to the unbridled passion I’d never known I was missing until now, to the tsunami of powerful pleasure that was going to sweep me up and take me away. I glanced up at him, my lips parted as I tried to focus on his face, on his words... but nothing made sense anymore.
Nothing was clear.
“Do you understand me, Hilary?” Sean’s grin grew, an ominous sign my brain, fogged with arousal, barely even noticed. “You’d be mine. Not just like this. Not only in the eyes of my men, and that idiot, Morrison, but in the eyes of God as well.”
The buzz of the vibrator intensified again, making all legible thoughts impossible. I was fucked. Not just by the onerous plastic in my snatch or even by the evil genius in charge of it, who played my body like an instrument, but by my own base needs for more—more of his time, more of his sadistic attention, and more of this unbelievable pleasure. It was too damned much.
“Hilary.” His growl drew my focus back to the present, to the blue gaze searing into me, and to the way the pace of the plastic had increased, the thing screwing me harder and faster than before. “Did you hear me? I’m going to make you my wife.”
I saw his lips moving, and from somewhere distant in my mind, the words echoed, but they were meaningless, useless. Devoid of all significance as the world became a smaller, more oppressive place. A place where the only thing that mattered was the well of sensation about to be unleashed and my ability to dive into it.
“Yes, Sir.” I closed my eyes, throwing my head back against the unrelenting chair. Fuck the things he needed. Fuck the fetters at my wrists, and whoever else was here to witness my disgrace—I didn’t care anymore. I only wanted this feeling—to swim in it, swallowed up by it. “Yes, Sir... anything.”
The last conscious thought that flitted through my mind before the black serenity engulfed me wasn’t of Sean or even the troublesome plastic he’d used to virtually destroy me—it was of Saul. The man I’d been fucking for the last few weeks. The man I’d trusted. The man I thought I knew. In all that time, however good I’d thought the sex had been, Saul had never made me feel this way. He’d never even come close.
This was the best I’d ever known.
Chapter Ten
Sean
MARRIAGE. THE IDEA was preposterous. Reprehensible in any other context, but now, watching as Hilary detonated around the vibrating plastic, it made an odd sort of sense. I’d been looking for a long-term girlfriend back in France for a while but hadn’t found anyone to my liking. French women were exotic and intriguing, but when push had come to shove, I rarely wanted to stay with any of them. They looked charming on my arm for a few weeks, but I tired of them, seeking the next dalliance to replace the thrill. I needed something longer-lasting, someone who engaged my brain as well as my cock, and the tempting feisty Hilary might well be that woman. Of course, that was still a nonsensical argument for matrimony. Why even consider such a twisted arrangement in my position? Zander never got married—no men in my position seemed to. Marriage was about real commitment, and
the type of devotion usually discarded in the upper echelons of mob gangs. In my business, women were like commodities—shipped in to entertain and please, look pretty, but for no deeper reasons.
I exhaled, my cock swelling as Hilary spasmed again, her limbs tense and mouth stretched wide to accommodate the weight of sensation. Eyeing her parted lips, I imagined slipping my length between them and the exquisite feel of her hot, silky throat as it enveloped me. The image bloomed in my mind until it consumed me, making me catch my breath. I would have that pleasure... soon. I’d fuck every hole she had to offer to reinforce the lesson I’d just taught, yet the idea of making the arrangement permanent goaded.
What would marriage to a woman like Hilary be like? I was giddy at the concept of her devotion—she was literally everything I’d fantasized about—beautiful, yes, but strong-willed as well, with a keen eye and a smart mouth to match. She would likely also know about my lifestyle. Working for Morrison would have exposed her, though that said, she’d been fabulously naïve in the face of my menace. The most tempting aspect of the writhing blonde, though, wasn’t her aesthetics or whether or not she was switched on—it was the way she’d responded to my torment.
Yes, she had come because the vibrator demanded it, but it had been more than that. Her soaked cunt was evidence of how much the experience had affected her. Hilary hadn’t just experienced superficial orgasms, she’d come alive as my hostage, and the climax she was now enjoying looked to be one of the most significant I’d ever ripped from another person’s body. I could have more than just fun with a woman like that. I could spend a lifetime unpicking her triggers and using them to captivate her.
“Fuck.”
She whispered the word as I eased the vibrator from her, holding the plastic up to examine it while she continued to jerk and moan below me. As suspected, the toy was drenched with her arousal. Bringing it to my nostrils, I inhaled the scent of her glorious sex, my balls aching at the taunting aroma.
I wanted her, and not just now in this shitty interrogation space, but in my bed, on my cock... at my feet. Glancing down at her flushed face, I considered the conundrum. I could have all those things with the right level of coercion, could make her agree to anything—this little fray had proven that. She’d kneel, beg, and sing if I ordered it, but something that would usually set me on fire about the thought was missing. Some key feature failed to ignite. I didn’t want to just beat Hilary into submission, I wanted to bait her into it, keep some of the mettle I’d seen demonstrated so wonderfully in the coffee shop, alongside this new wet, subservient version. Why choose one when I could have both? The very best of it was if I kept her, and God forbid, if I married her, it would be the sweetest two fingers in the world to that arrogant son of a bitch, Morrison—a constant, nagging reminder to him that he had lost, not just Hilary, but the city. I would swallow up every inch of Zander’s original territory, then I’d come for Saul’s patch—for him. Morrison was old and getting slow while I was more dynamic. Life on the continent had taught me a trick or two, and I was prepared to play any card to get what I wanted. Right now, that meant revenge for Zander’s murder, a ring on Hilary’s finger, and a collar around her neck.
Smiling at the thought, I flicked the vibrator off, turning my attention back to the dazed woman still tied to the chair.
“How was that, darling?”
“Oh, God.” She inhaled, her eyes falling closed. “I’ve never, ever known anything like it.”
“Good.” I rounded the back of the chair, and bracing, lifted it back to its feet, righting Hilary on the way. “That’s just how I want things to be for you, sweetheart. Better than ever.” I whispered the words into her nape, resisting the urge to drag my lips across the perfumed skin. “And all you have to do is everything I tell you.”
She twisted her head to try to meet my eyes. “Sean? Sir?”
“Mmmm?” I like the way she said that. My name sounded better on her lips than a thousand women before her.
“What is it you want?”
I chuckled into her soft flesh, rising to tower over her once again.
“I already told you, beautiful. Weren’t you paying attention?”
Naturally, that wasn’t fair. I had some idea how distracted by pleasure Hilary had been when I’d laid out the terms of her orgasm, but it made no difference. In all the years I’d been rolling the dice, there had been no evidence life was fair and little prospect of that changing now.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Her face fell, a sign perhaps of genuine contrition on her part.
Unthinkingly, I leaned lower, snaking my arms around her chest to the place my wooden pegs were still jutting out proudly. Fuck, they looked great on her tits, making the firm mounds all the more alluring, but I knew she’d worn them for a long time, and her nipples would need a rest. Without overthinking the deed, I squeezed the arms of both pegs at the same time, releasing the pressure and slipping them into my inside pocket.
“Fffff...” She released the hurt with gritted teeth, but I was pleased she hadn’t felt the need to resort to profanity again. Obscenities during climax were understandable, but I couldn’t excuse it at all costs.
“Good girl.” My hands slid back to her breasts again, massaging the wonderful assets while she panted in response. “I know you need to let go sometimes, but I would prefer fewer cuss words from these pretty lips.”
I lifted my head to find Johnson still there, smirking at Hilary. He’d been there the whole time, despite my initial instruction, standing in the corner, along with whoever else had come and gone while I taunted her. Johnson would reiterate, he was there for her safety, but it was obvious he was hot for my new acquisition, desperate to taste the woman I wanted to claim as mine. My brows furrowed at the idea. I’d never been shy about sharing women before nor about showing them off, and I wasn’t sorry I’d displayed Hilary this time—I could tell the shame had magnified her senses—but all of a sudden, the idea of him just standing there, watching, irked me. I’d already told him to leave us—why hadn’t he gone?
“You’re dismissed, Johnson.”
His body straightened. “But Sir, what if she has a bad reaction to the sedative?”
Kneading her tits, I fixed him with a hard stare.
“You told me we were past the point of concern.”
“Well, yes, Sir.” He shifted his weight awkwardly. “We probably are, but—”
“So, I will contact you if I need you.” I determined there and then, I would never call on Johnson again. He had seen far too much of Hilary for my liking. I would find another doctor. Like everything, they were a dime a dozen in my world.
“Yes, Sir.” He looked crestfallen as he shuffled toward the door, offering one final furtive glance Hilary’s way before he departed.
“And then, there were two.” I left her glorious tits with some reluctance, coming to stand in front of her. “Do you remember what I told you I was going to do with you?”
Hilary’s eyes widened at my question, her breathing accelerating.
“Not really, Sir.”
I smirked, hardly surprised, based on how intense the session must have been for her.
“How disappointing.” I feigned the despondency, ensuring my expression was even as I delivered it. “I’m going to need my future wife to have better focus.”
That got her attention, her head snapping up to meet my gaze.
“Wife?”
My lips twitched at the stunned defiance in her voice. All it had taken was the wave of hedonism to pass and the clothespins to have been removed, and she was back—the Hilary who’d first ran into me, the one who’d piqued my interest all those hours ago.
“You’re not serious? We can’t get...” She paused, as though the next word had conjured a bitter taste in her mouth. “Married!”
“What was that?” I snapped, enjoying the way she recoiled at my vicious tone. “How do you speak to me, little girl?”
“Sir.” She added the title I craved in an
instant, the show of submission lengthening my cock even greater than I believed was possible. “We can’t get married, Sir.”
“Oh, but we will.”
My mind was made up. I would take the woman I wanted and mold her into the perfect little plaything. I would teach her precisely how to love and honor, but most of all, she would learn deference and how to obey. At that moment, nothing else mattered, not the social fall out or the financials—none of it. After all, I had one of the best legal teams in the world. They could draft me a suitable pre-nuptial agreement, which would ensure the panting little blonde before me never got access to my huge fortune, and what else was there to worry about? I didn’t care what anyone else said—I never had. The men in London who’d been loyal to my uncle would either vow the same allegiance to me or face the consequences. That was how this business worked, and they all knew it.
“We will, and you’ll become Mrs. Sean Hyland.” I smiled at how that sounded, the idea scintillating for the first time. “You’ll be mine to have and to hold.” I moved closer, propping my finger under her chin and lifting it to meet my gaze. “To bind, to expose, and to fuck, for as long as I decide.”
A flicker of fear danced in her emotive eyes. “That’s crazy,” she gasped. “We can’t get married, and you can’t make me.”
“That’s just where you’re wrong, darling,” I reminded her, my thumb and forefinger tightening on her chin. “I absolutely fucking can.”
Chapter Eleven
Hilary
MY MIND REELED AS HE unfastened the leather at my wrists. My initial instinct to reach out and slap the bastard who had put me through such a perturbing experience was overawed with the weight of the sensations, my emotions lurching from relief to satiation, back to rage at the treatment. The guy was talking about marriage, about making a lifelong commitment, when we’d only known each other five minutes, and in that time, he’d drugged, snatched, and done all this to me! It didn’t seem comprehensible, but then based on the things I knew about the Hyland’s, Sean seemed to fit the bill.