by Ford, Hannah
The way he was touching my face and the way he’d been with me, stroking me slowly and softly, taking his time between my legs and bringing me to orgasm made me think this was how he was going to be when it came to me sucking his cock.
But it was the exact opposite.
After he slid his hard dick across my lips a few times, he pulled back and gazed down at me.
“Spit on it,” he commanded.
I hesitated for just a second, but I knew that if I took didn’t do as he said, he’d make me do something worse. So I spit onto his thick cock and used my hand, stroking him, getting him wet.
He moaned. “Good girl,” he breathed.
I blushed deeper under his praise, loving that I was doing a good job, that I was pleasing him. But before I could get a rhythm going with my hand, he pushed his dick into my mouth in one long thrust. The head hit the back of my throat, and I gagged, my instinct being to pull away. But he held the back of my head tight, fisting my hair with a death grip that made it impossible to move.
“Take it, Emery,” he commanded, his voice low and sexy. A muffled cry escaped my throat as my eyes filled with tears as he made me deep throat him. He was so big and thick, and my jaw immediately began to ache.
But Liam held me tight and then yanked my head back by my hair, pulling me off his dick with a pop.
It was only a second before he pushed me back down, barely giving me time to catch my breath. I breathed through my noise, tasting the saltiness of his skin as the velvety texture of his dick brushed against my tongue.
He held me there, made me deep throat him again, then pulled me back off and repeated the sequence, pulling me off his hard root and then forcing me back down again.
“This is what happens when you defy me, Emery,” he said. “You get a hard cock down your throat until you choke and cry, do you understand?”
“Yes.” My eyes were so filled with tears now that as I stared up at him his beautiful face blurred around the edges.
He pushed back into my mouth, and this time, he didn’t let me go, didn’t pull back out. Instead, he held me by the back of my head and started to fuck my mouth, in and out, slamming against the back of my throat.
I struggled to keep up, reminding myself to breath through my nose. My knees ached from kneeling on the hard concrete.
But I didn’t care.
I wanted to be used.
The word – used -- floated through my head as he fucked my mouth even harder – that’s what it was, him fucking my mouth, because he was totally in control, setting the pace and the depth.
He eyed me hungrily, never slowing his pace.
Even when I became dimly aware of the sound of the elevator dinging behind him, he didn’t stop. I closed my eyes, not sure I wanted to know if there were people there, watching me.
But Liam never stopped, his hips bucking wildly as he reached down and tilted my chin back up. “Eyes open,” he growled, pushing harder into my mouth, apparently not concerned if someone was watching. His abs clenched with the effort, and a drop of sweat slid down the muscled ridges of his torso.
A few seconds later, the elevator dinged again, and the sound of the doors swooshing shut echoed through the lobby. I would never find out if someone had been there, if they’d watched in fascination or recoiled in horror.
“I’m going to come right down your throat,” Liam growled. “I want you to swallow all of it, do you understand?”
I nodded around his dick, making a muffled, “Yes,” sound as best I could, and he pulled out completely one more time, that same popping sound bouncing off the walls of the vestibule before he pushed back into my waiting and eager mouth.
This time, as soon as the head of his engorged cock hit the back of my throat, he came, pulsing his cum into me. I swallowed a huge mouthful. As soon as I did, another spurt hit me, and I swallowed that one, too, struggling to keep up with how fast and hard it was coming.
Three more shots of come hit my throat before he finally settled. He pulled back and looked down at me on the floor, staring up at him, then reached down and pulled me to my feet.
His eyes latched onto mine, and I saw something reflected in his face as he reached up and touched my face, his thumb skating over my jawline.
His hands wandered to my hips and he pulled my dress back down.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and he took in a shuddering breath.
“So what now?” I asked softly, my heart thrumming hard in my chest from what we’d just done. I was assuming we’d get back on the plane immediately, that he’d call for his car to take us to the airport and we’d continue on our way to California.
My father hadn’t paid the debt. I was still Liam’s property.
I caught sight of myself in the reflection of the window on the other side of the vestibule. My hair was disheveled and my dress slightly wrinkled. I wondered if we would have time for me to stop at a hotel when we got to California, if perhaps the hair and makeup people would be waiting there. For some strange reason, all I could think about was what Tevi had told me, that the paparazzi hung out around the airports in California. I imagined myself next to a picture of London Banks at the same airport, one of those “who wore it better?” kind of pieces they always did in magazines.
“Now we go to California,” Liam said.
“So that’s it?” I asked, even though his answer was what I’d been expecting.
“That’s it.”
He stepped into the elevator and slid the key card he’d been given into the slot. For a moment I thought we were going back up to the rooftop level, the level we’d been on when Liam had spanked me in that suite. But instead, Liam pushed the button marked UC – Upper Concourse. The elevator began to move, and the dinging sound it made reminded me of the dinging sound that had happened when I was on my knees out there, the concrete burning my bare skin, rubbing it raw as I pleasured him. God, had someone seen me? The thought made my cheeks burn.
Liam leaned against the side of the elevator and pulled out his phone, began scrolling through it.
But my mind was racing, questions burning in my brain, leaving me desperate for their answers.
“So what would have happened?” I asked him. “If my father had paid you?”
“Are you hungry?” Liam asked, ignoring my question. The elevator stopped and we stepped off. We were on a different floor of the casino now, one we hadn’t been on before.
This level was filled with fancy-looking restaurants, all of them arranged in a circle around a railing that looked over a level of high-end stores. The air was somehow cleaner up here, as if they had siphoned out all of the cigarette smoke and slovenliness from the riffraff, leaving the air pure for the people who could afford to eat in these restaurants and shop at those stores.
“I’m not hungry.”
But Liam was walking toward a restaurant on our right. It was called Alia, and it was one of those places that had the menu posted outside the door, the kind of menu that didn’t provide prices but gave you a chef’s name. “You need to eat, Emery.”
He walked into restaurant, and the pretty blonde hostess immediately brightened when she saw him. “Mr. Rutherford,” she said, straightening up and hitting him with a dazzling smile. She completely ignored me. “Long time no see, sir.” The way her eyes traveled over him made it look like she wanted to devour him right there, like she was half-hoping he’d come there to order her off the menu.
Had he fucked her? I wondered. Was he the type of man whose dalliances weren’t just limited to famous movie stars and socialites, but also pretty blonde hostesses?
“There will be two of us,” Liam said.
“Yes, sir.” Her eyes flicked over me, instantly dismissing me as no competition as she began to walk toward the back of the room, but I grabbed Liam’s sleeve.
“Sorry,” I said to the hostess. “I just need to talk to Mr. Rutherford for a moment.”
I pulled him back out onto the concourse.
/> “Yes?” he asked, sounded impatient. He checked his watch, some French brand I didn’t recognize with a wide black band. The diamonds in the face sparkled in the overhead light. “We have limited time to eat, Emery, if we’re going to make it to California at a reasonable hour.”
The trace of impatience in his voice, as if I was the one who was slowing us down, as if I were the one who’d wanted to come here, annoyed me.
“I don’t even want to eat,” I said, and then I realized I was defending myself about something that wasn’t even an issue.
“Then what is it?”
“What would have happened if my father had paid you?” It was the question that had hung, unspoken, in my mind, ever since Liam had rushed down those back stairs hoping to find him.
“Then your ransom would have been paid.”
“Yes, I get that. I’m not stupid. I mean what would have happened after that?” I swallowed and gathered my courage. “With us.”
“This isn’t the time or place to talk about this,” he said sternly.
“This isn’t a game, Liam.” My voice was calm, even though inside, I felt unsettled, shaken. Something had shifted in the air between us. This wasn’t like downstairs in the casino, when I’d been acting crazy at the slot machines, this wasn’t like upstairs when I’d been about to pull out my hair extensions and had started rubbing off my makeup in an effort to get through to him.
No, this was more serious than that.
This was real, this was raw, this was…
“I need to know what this is,” I whispered.
“It is what it is.”
“No, that’s not… Liam, you told me you were falling in love with me.”
He flinched at the words. “It’s time to eat, Emery. We’ll discuss this later.”
“I want to discuss it now. I’m not going to let this be some twisted situation you can use in order to justify the fact that you’re starting to have real feelings.” He stared down at me, his eyes dark and smoldering. He took a long breath and pulled me toward him, pressing my body to his.
“Is that what you think this is?” he demanded, his voice low and ragged.
“I don’t know what this is,” I said. “And I need to know. Because I’m falling in love with you, too.” The sides of his mouth twitched into a tiny smile, a genuine smile, and I saw the emotion well in his eyes, I saw the wistfulness and dare I say it, love, there. He wanted this to be real. I knew it, even if he couldn’t admit it. I felt it in the way he touched me, in the way he held me, in those small moments when his walls were down.
“You don’t know enough about me to love me,” he said. It was a warning of sorts, a test. His voice had that same sexy low growl, but now there something underneath it. Hope. Hope that maybe this could be real.
“I want to know,” I said. “I want to know about you, I want… I want this to be real.”
He closed his eyes for a second and I reached up and stroked his cheek. I studied his face, wanting to memorize the way it looked in that moment, his chiseled jaw and strong nose, his full lips, the way his hair curled over his forehead. This was him. The real Liam. Not the billionaire Liam, the one who terrorized his employees and tried to keep things from me, not the Liam who’d pulled me into the back of that car that night, but the real him, the one who had demons and raw spots that I ached to soothe.
I leaned up to kiss him, surprised that he was letting me touch him like this, that he was letting me be this in control, but he reached out and grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t.”
He began to move past me toward the restaurant, but I reached out and grabbed his sleeve again.
“Liam,” I whispered. “Please.”
He stopped and looked at me, his eyes softening. This was the moment in our interactions where he’d usually put an end to this kind of talk, where he’d pull me over his knee and spank me until I was raw, working out the emotions he had inside of him, the uncomfortable feelings he had from getting close t o another person by using me sexually, as if proving to himself that was all it was.
In that moment, standing there with him on that concourse, I felt everything stop. It was like we were poised at the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump together or turn around and call it a day. I was willing to take the jump with him on nothing but faith, was willing to jump off that cliff because I knew there was more to him than what he’d shown me.
Jump with me, I whispered in my head. Please, Liam.
But a second later, his expression hardened.
My chest ached, and I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up the memory of what his face had been like a moment ago.
“Get into the restaurant, Emery.”
“That’s all you have to say? Get into the restaurant?” My anger flared. “You know what, Liam? I think you’re happy my father left.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I think you’re happy my father left. I think you’re relieved because now you can keep me here, now you can continue with your little charade, now you can pretend this isn’t real while still being able to be near me.”
He shook his head. “You need to be careful with your smart mouth, Emery. You do not want to push me. Not now.”
But this wasn’t about pushing him anymore, this wasn’t about wanting to get a reaction out of him. This was real, and I wasn’t going to stop. “Tell me,” I said. “What would have happened if my father had paid my ransom?”
“He didn’t. So it’s pointless to talk about it.”
“Exactly. Because you like this. You like having an excuse to keep me, an excuse to tell yourself this isn’t real.”
“Then why the fuck would I bring you here in the first place? Why would I follow your father down to the parking garage?” He was getting going now. His eyes were stone cold, his throat pulsing with his words. I could feel the heat radiating off of him as I pushed him emotionally, and if we’d been alone I knew he would have taken me over his knee, brought me to the basement, pulled out a belt or a whip.
I could almost feel the pain of the belt as it lashed against my skin, craved it even. And I realized now why he did those things. Because the physical exertion, the physical pain and dominance allowed him to work out his aggression and not have to deal with the emotions.
Is that why I craved the pain he inflicted on me? Because it was a way for me to feel something, to share something with him, while at the same time being protective of my heart, being able to use the physical pain to blot out the emotional pain I was feeling when it came to him?
The thought was disturbing, but before I could consider it further, Liam grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall. He lowered his mouth to mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.
Instead, he whispered to me, slow and deep and dark. “Why would I have brought you here?”
“Because you wanted to prove to yourself it isn’t real. You did everything you could, right, Liam? You tried to get my father to pay, but he didn’t. So now you have no excuse but to keep me.”
His hand tightened on my hip and his brow furrowed angrily. “If you think I won’t spank you right here in front of everyone, you’re very, very wrong.”
I stared back at him, not looking away, not giving in this time. This was usually the point where I’d submit, where I’d give in to his demands, where I’d beg for him to punish me, to fuck me.
That same thought zinged through my brain -- that having him hurt me physically and use me sexually was a way for me to feel close to him.
But this time I didn’t give in.
He pinned my body against the mirrored wall behind us, and his hands snaked up under my dress, bunching it up around my waist. He still had my panties, and so I was naked from the waist down, my bare ass cheeks pushed against the coolness of the smooth surface behind me.
“This is what you want?” he demanded. “For me to fuck you right here, for me to show the world what a bad girl you’ve been?”
&
nbsp; “Like I care,” I spat back. “Like I care what you do to me. You’ve already had me on my knees, sucking your dick in the parking garage. Why not fuck me right here?”
His hands tightened on my ass and he forced my legs apart with his hips.
“That’s what you want?” I whispered. “This is what you’d rather do? Humiliate me, fuck me in public, bruise my skin instead of admitting how you feel?”
“I feel nothing,” he growled, “Ever. And the sooner you believe that, the better off you’ll be.”
“Then you’re the one who’s the prisoner, Liam. Not me. And I feel nothing but sorry for you.”
His chest heaved and his jaw tightened. The heat which had been radiating off of him was as hot as the sun. He was going to screw me right here, right in front of everyone. He was going to cross the line from slightly twisted to completely and totally fucked up, I could feel it.
But then he let me go and stepped back.
I raced to pull down my skirt, even more exposed now that his body wasn’t in front of mine.
And it was just in time.
An elderly couple dressed to the nines – him in an expensive suit, her in an elegant red dress with a matching hat – walked by. The woman met my eye and gave me a smile, the kind of smile that old people gave you when they thought you were cute.
She glanced at Liam and then smiled at me again, and her intent was clear. It was a “Oh, young love is so sweet” kind of smile.
If only she knew the truth.
Liam paid them no mind, but it wasn’t until they’d turned around the corner that he spoke.
“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Then go.”
“What?”
“If that’s what you think, that I’m the one who’s a prisoner, then go. You’re free.”
“So my father can be killed,” I said. “Yeah, great choice. Stay with a monster or have my father’s blood on my hands.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No.”
“What do you mean?”
He moved closer to me then, but this time it wasn’t to dominate me. I could tell from his body language. “You might think that I brought you here so that I could prove to myself that I had no choice but to keep you. But you’re doing the same thing, Emery. You’re using the fact that you can’t let your father die to justify the fact that you’re staying here. You’re using the same excuse I am.”