The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  Leaning my head down, I begin to kiss on the soft flesh of her shoulder. Then I work my way towards her breast.

  Removing my hand from her back, I slide it around to her chest. I cup her breast hard in my hand as I lift it up to my mouth.

  Sucking hard on her nipple, I crush the tightened bud against my tongue.

  My balls are aching so badly now, but I must wait though. It is paramount that we peak together… it has the best chance of success.

  Control comes in many forms. Mentally, spiritually, and even through the bonds we create together.

  “Fuck!” Her simple declaration erupts from her mouth as her pussy clamps down on my cock so hard that I can barely move through the sensations ripping through my own body.

  Lifting my head from her nipple, I place my mouth at the same exact spot she bit me.

  Latching my teeth on her skin, I bite down hard.

  She screeches out so loudly I’m surprised the glass in the kitchen doesn’t shatter.

  Her legs don’t stop moving though. If anything, they slam me into her body harder and harder.

  My cock begins to spend long bursts of my cum deep into her womb. Each time I thrust forward, I feel as if I’m dying over and over.

  So much pressure has built up over the past day that I think the release is going to kill me.

  Our bodies finally come down from the mountain we crested and we sag against each other.

  Her head comes to rest on my chest.

  Pulling back from her after I catch my breath, I look down at the place I marked on her shoulder.

  There, the edges of my teeth have broken the skin. Nothing like she did to me, no stitches will be needed. But she will have the scar for the rest of her life.

  Just like I will.

  “Your mouth has blood…” she starts to say before it must dawn on her why I have blood on my lips.

  Looking down to her shoulder, she gasps, “You… you… you just fucking—”

  “Better than any wedding band will ever be, princess. I’ve marked you for the world to know you belong to fucking me.”

  She doesn’t move me or even push me away from her body. I’m slowly deflating inside of her and the squeeze of her silken walls is slowly easing me out. The exquisite, almost painful, sensitivity of my cock is driving me mad.

  Looking up into my eyes, she declares, “You’re mad, Simon! You’re not sane!”

  “No, I’m truly not around you.”

  Pulling back from her, I watch as my thick cock finally falls out.

  She hasn’t let go of me with her legs though. Whether she is conscious of that fact I’m not sure.

  “Have I…” she starts to say but stops to lick her lips.

  Trying again, she quietly asks, “Have I truly destroyed you?”

  “Utterly,” I say just as quietly back to her.

  17

  Meredith

  It’s official. I’ve broken Simon.

  Unfortunately, I haven’t broken him in the way I intended. Instead of bringing the man to his knees and wrapping him around my finger, I’ve unleashed a beast.

  A beast full of lust and fire.

  Since that night at Matthew’s compound, he’s become insatiable. I can’t walk within five feet of him without him grabbing me and pushing me up against something.

  The walls, the counters, the furniture.

  It’s all fair game when Simon gets his hands on me.

  There isn’t a room in this house he hasn’t fucked me in. He takes full advantage of my penchant for wearing dresses. Tossing my skirts up and ripping my panties to the side before he thrusts himself deep inside my pussy.

  And the way he fucks me… god, the way he fucks me.

  He fucks me like he can’t get enough of me. He fucks me like he’s trying to make up for the past five fucking years.

  It’s like a drug. To be so wanted, to be so desired it’s driving him past the brink of madness… It’s is the greatest fucking high I’ve ever experienced.

  And I only want more of it.

  The only problem is that I’m pretty sure the bastard is purposely trying to get me pregnant.

  After he’s had his way with me, fucking me so hard I feel the ghost of his cock deep inside me for hours afterwards, he won’t let me shower.

  Yes, Simon, the germaphobic clean-freak from hell, wants to keep me dirty. He won’t let me wash his cum off.

  I’ve tried. I managed to sneak in the shower once while he was distracted with work. Just as I was rinsing the conditioner from my hair though, he ripped the shower curtain open and dragged me out.

  He pushed me right up against the bathroom counter, grabbed me by my hair, and fucked me again in punishment.

  Watching him furiously drive himself inside me through the bathroom mirror was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Even hotter than those videos we watch.

  His body ruthlessly claiming my body. His cock driving me to orgasmic heights I’ve never reached before.

  But it was the expression on his face that really did me in.

  An unholy expression full of possession, lust, and dominance. An expression that roared as he roared that I was his.

  And he’s never ever fucking letting me go.

  I should be fucking terrified. I should be plotting and planning, trying to find a way out.

  But just as I’ve managed to claw my way under his skin and unravel him, he’s managed to work his way inside me so deep I fear he’s dangerously close to reaching my soul.

  I crave his attention. I crave his sick desire. So much so that I’ll willingly seek him out. Interrupting whatever work he’s trying to accomplish with my need for him to make me feel.

  And he gives me what I want, what I need. Every time. Without question. Without protest.

  Whenever his hands touch me, or his eyes burn into me, he makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before.

  It’s ludicrous. Logically, it makes no freakin’ sense. I had purpose before I met him. I had direction, and what in my mind was a divine, holy calling. He trapped me. He ripped me away from it.

  Yet I don’t want to run away from him.

  I want to see how deep this dark hole we’re digging ourselves into truly goes.

  Where does this insanity end? When one of us dies? When I do get pregnant?

  When the world fucking burns?

  I don’t fucking know.

  All I know is that I’ve finally managed to break Simon and yet I feel like I’m the one who’s cracking. I’ve lost my goddamn mind.

  But at least I’m not alone in this madness.

  “I have to leave the house for a few hours today,” Simon says, stroking my hair back out of my eyes.

  We’re lying together, naked bodies and limbs entangled, in bed. He just took me twice in a row after waking and then refused to let me get up to pee.

  “You’re leaving me alone?” I ask, careful to keep any hint of what I’m feeling out of my voice as I slide my hand slowly up his naked chest.

  “Yes,” he answers, his eyes dropping to regard me. “But only for a few hours. You’ll be safe with the security team I have in place.”

  I nod my head and snuggle closer to him, hiding my face against his chest. He seems to truly enjoy these small acts of affection I show him. As evident by his arms squeezing around me and the pleased sound he makes.

  Simon’s leaving. He’s leaving. Perhaps I could figure out some way to sneak out…

  “And of course I’ll be watching,” he adds.

  For once, I’m not sure if he’s saying it because he’s purposely warning me or he thinks I somehow feel unsafe without him.

  Of course he’ll be watching me, I groan inside. If I want to get out of this house, I’m going to have to actually have his damn permission.

  I lean back just enough to say, “Do you think…” before I start stamping a trail of kisses up his chest. “I could leave for a few hours too?”

  I’m trying to distract him, to earn f
avor with him, but I’m becoming engrossed in the sweet and salty taste of his skin.

  Simon lets me get all the way up to his lips before he grabs me by the back of the head and kisses me hard.

  His tongue thrusts into my mouth, overtaking mine. Stroking and caressing until I’m melting against him.

  Pulling away, his eyes are so soft when I finally open mine that at first I think I misheard him when he tells me, “No.”

  “No?” I frown up at him. As soon as the word settles in, I try to pull away. “No? Are you serious, Simon?”

  The soft look in his eyes immediately hardens, and his arms tighten, not allowing me to escape.

  “It’s not safe—” he starts to say.

  “Don’t you dare give me that bullshit,” I snap at him. “Just a minute ago, you said I would be perfectly safe with your security team.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. Either I’m safe with your security team or I’m not. Which is it?”

  Simon’s jaw tightens and I swear that eye of his twitches.

  “You’re safe,” he grits out reluctantly.

  I smile at him. “Then there’s no reason I can’t leave the house for a bit.”

  A variety of emotions flashes across his face. Anger, annoyance, and even worry, then finally acceptance.

  “What exactly is it that you want to do, Meredith?”

  His hands slide down my back, fingers tracing the curve of my spine, before he grabs my ass and pulls me closer to him.

  Pleased that I seem to finally be getting my way, I push my hips into him to get more comfortable.

  His cock stiffens against me, growing in the space between us.

  “I need a spa day. I’m falling apart. It’s been months since I’ve had my hair or nails done…”

  “I’d hardly say you’re falling apart,” he groans, fingers digging into the flesh of my ass as I once again stamp little kisses along his chest. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  “That’s besides the point,” I laugh and brush my lips across his nipple.

  His cock jerks, twitching upwards, and leaves a trail of wetness along my thigh.

  “What is the point?” he asks, his voice growing growly and husky.

  I kiss my way across his chest to his other nipple. “That I need to get out for a bit. I need to air my head out, Simon. I’m starting to go a little crazy.”

  I lightly nip his nipple to prove my point.

  His entire body jerks and a hiss escapes his teeth. Then he reaches up, grabs me by the back of the hair ,and forces me to look at him.

  “Very well, princess. You can have your spa day.”

  “But?” I ask, sensing the word hanging in the air.

  “But,” he grins, either pleased I guessed there would be more to it, or pleased about whatever he’s about to say. “You have to wear your bracelet, and you have to sign something first.”

  “Sign what? A contract promising I won’t try to escape or something?”

  Using his grip to drag my head up, his grin grows even wider. “Something like that.”

  That grin tells me I should be worried, but freedom is so close I can fucking taste it.

  “Fine. Whatever,” I agree, throwing caution to the wind. “I’ll sign your silly paper.”

  Simon pushes me onto my back and comes down on top of me. With one hard thrust of his hips, he drives himself deep inside me.

  “If you try to run…” he starts to warn as he pumps his thick length in and out of my body.

  I thrust my hips up suddenly and lock my thighs around him.

  “I won’t run,” I groan. “Just shut up and fuck me, Simon.”

  18

  Meredith

  Thankfully Simon let me shower when we finally made it out of bed. Unfortunately, he made me shower with him. After insisting on washing my body for me, somehow he found the stamina to go again.

  The man is truly insatiable. Who knew there was such a ravenous animal lurking under his skin?

  Once clean and dressed, Simon produced a stack of papers. A stack of papers he refused to let me read. I tried, I really did, but he had a blank white paper clipped to the top, hiding the contents. He flipped through each paper quickly, only showing me the bottom part requiring my signature.

  He insisted I sign them, all ten of them, before he would even consider making the spa appointment.

  Begrudgingly, I did. I may have very well just sold my soul to the devil…

  But as my stylist works her hands through my hair, massaging my scalp, it feels worth it. Very worth it.

  “So, are you like a celebrity or something?” my stylist, Tiffany, asks after she finishes rinsing my hair and helps me sit up.

  She glances nervously towards the three beefy men in black from my security detail blocking off the front door. Four more guys stand outside, one guy in front of the door and the other three keeping watch over our cars.

  I laugh. “Or something.”

  Tiffany nods her head and her hands shake, her fingers trembling as she gently rubs my hair down and then wraps it up in a warm towel.

  I’m pretty sure Simon put the fear of god in her and the other employees when he dropped me off. His list of demands was extensive, and in my opinion, unnecessary. Especially when he kicked all the male employees out.

  Obviously, his jealousy knows no bounds.

  The entire spa has been closed for the day. I’m currently the only customer. I have the entire place and every employee left to myself.

  Tiffany is unusually quiet as she works on me, but I don’t really mind. Honestly, chatter for the sake of chatter often bores me. I’d rather relax in my own mind.

  It takes her over three hours to ‘fix’ my hair. She touches up my roots, applies highlights and lowlights, tones all the brass out, and finishes with a deep conditioning treatment.

  Once she’s done with me, she eagerly hands me off to a technician who offers me some champagne before waxing me from head to toe.

  By the time all my nails are polished and painted, I feel like a new woman.

  Or at least, the woman I was before…

  After paying and leaving a generous tip, I step out into the street and turn my face up to the sun. I enjoy the spring rays warming my cheeks for a few seconds before the three beefy guys surround me, shrouding me in shadow.

  “Ma’am, it’s best not to linger,” the head of my detail, Logan, says, reminding me of the danger I’m still in.

  I let out a long sigh and nod my head. I’m getting sick and tired of constantly looking over my shoulder and having my freedom restricted because I’m in danger.

  But Asad is still out there, somewhere… And even though Simon hasn’t seen a blip on the radar or heard a peep of him being in Garden City, it’s best not to take any chances.

  The security guys usher me quickly to a black SUV parked between two other SUVs directly in front of the spa. They form a wall of muscle, blocking me from the street as I slide into the back.

  Before I even have a chance to get my seatbelt on, they shut my door, climb into the car, and we start rolling.

  One guy sits in the back beside me, directly behind the driver’s seat, while the other two climbed in the front.

  Leaning against the seats and consoles are what I’m assuming are automatic rifles of some type, but I’m not familiar with guns so I can’t be entirely sure.

  “Precious cargo is secured. We’re on the move,” Logan says. He’s sitting in the passenger seat beside the driver.

  I can’t help but smirk at that term. Precious cargo? Me? I wonder who came up with that one…

  The car I’m riding in is in the middle, wedged between the other two cars.

  Honestly, three cars might be a little overkill. But given how overprotective Simon is, I should probably be glad there aren’t more.

  The drive through Garden City is beyond boring. Without a phone, or anything to read, and with the guys acting all tight-lipped and professional, I’m left with
nothing to do but to stare out the window.

  Or pick at my freshly painted nails.

  I’m really going to need to talk Simon into giving me a device of sort. I need something, anything, to connect me to the outside world.

  Tall, looming buildings give way to thick, plush greenery. We’re halfway home… Shit, when did I start thinking of Simon’s house as home?

  Logan suddenly speaks rapidly and my ears perk up. “What’s that, sir? Please repeat and confirm?”

  The air inside the car grows tense. The guy sitting beside me grabs his gun and starts checking it.

  Logan barks out, “Shit! Got it, sir!” He glances toward the driver and orders, “Route A is compromised. I repeat, Route A is compromised. Proceed immediately to Route B.”

  The car comes to a screeching halt and I’m jerked forward, the seatbelt digging painfully into my chest and stomach. Only to be thrown to the side when we make a sudden and complete u-turn.

  “What the fuck is going on?!” I screech as the driver slams on the gas, nearly rear-ending the car in front of us.

  Pushing away from the door, I look first to the guy sitting beside me. He completely ignores me, engrossed in the workings of his gun.

  Shaking my head, I turn my ire on Logan through the rear-view mirror. “Logan?!”

  Grabbing his own rifle, Logan spares me only a flick of his eyes as he goes through the process of checking it. “There’s a blockade along our previous route.” The car fills with the sounds of clicks and clacks. “We’re re-routing and rendezvousing at a safe location.”

  I gape at him, only understanding half of what he said. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you have nothing to worry about. Everything is under—”

  “We’ve got company up ahead!” the driver calls out.

  “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop! That’s an order!” Logan roars. “Drive right through the bastards.”

  I lean to the side and peer through the windshield. I can’t see anything over the big SUV in front of us though.

  “Ma’am, you need to get down,” the guy beside me says, finally noticing me.