by Jenn Marlow
He quickly, pushed her skirt up with a lustful need and used his middle finger to slide into the leg’s opening of her panties to test her wetness. She knew what he would find, and she smiled against his lips before he even got to her center and deepened the kiss.
As his hands wandered inside her underwear, he noticed that her thin black panties were soaked. He sighed in delight and awe, as he found her pussy’s entrance to be coated with juice.
She was ready.
Alex moaned into his mouth, as he trailed his finger from her entrance to her clit. She could feel him smile against her, as she had done to him just moments before. He began rubbing, slowly and teasingly. Her hips bucked slightly, as he rubbed, eager for release.
He broke away from her entrapping kiss and concentrated on his task. He feverishly continued to rub. In return, she bucked her hips against his hand, humping it for all that it was worth. Somehow, she lost control, and she wasn’t sure where; but damn it all, in that moment, with his finger encircling her erect little button, she didn’t give a damn. She moaned into his shoulder, the sounds muffled, and bit at the flesh there.
He could feel her juices begin to flow even more, as his hand became covered. “Someone’s definitely aroused,” he mocked before pushing the soaked material of her underwear down. With the garment out of the way, his smile widened and before she knew it he had sunk the entire length his index finger into her ready center. She let out a muffled cry of pleasure and bit his shoulder once again, her hips bucking toward him.
“Roland, please…Please, more...I want more!” she moaned. And in response, he slid in another finger. She moaned louder, as he slid his digits ferociously in and out of her, every thrust causing more and more friction to ignite a heated arousal like no other. It was as if she was going to burst.
Roland moved his free hand up to her breasts, massaging them softly and gently; an act that wasn’t typical of him. And then his sight befell her erect nipple, and the adventurous and curious side of himself began to play. He tugged gently on it, and she cried out softly in response. Her body was trembling, and that feeling was amplified tenfold when he slipped a third finger inside of her. She screamed louder.
“Fuck, Roland! I'm about to come!” Alex hissed, and he pumped faster.
“Then come for me,” he whispered into her ear, one hand on her breast the other fucking her tight wet hole. “Imagine that I'm fucking you. Now, Alex. Come now!”
“Ah!” she screamed, as a rushing wind of pleasure crashed into her with the intensity of a hurricane. She couldn’t believe she had reached orgasm so quickly. It had been a while, sure, but it wasn’t as if she never experienced sexual pleasure—with her frequent masturbatory escapades and all. So wouldn’t it stand to reason that she should still have had some sort of stamina built up? Was he that good?
The product of her orgasm flowed from her swollen opening, as he pulled his fingers from her. She panted heavily, her breath expelling from her lungs in short quick gasps. Roland laughed and pulled away. He reached for her mid-thigh, and she realized that her panties were still wrapped around her. Then, the images from the other evening came rushing back. She hated him for doing that to her. It hurt and it was humiliating. She felt violated on a million different levels, but the worst violation of all was that part of her liked some of it.
She stepped out of the soaked garments quickly, and he lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, and she did. She locked her ankles together and intertwined her arms around his neck. She knew what was about to happen, and she could only hope that he would be more respectful this time. She could only hope that he wouldn’t defile the wrong hole once again.
Roland pushed his cock into her, and she sighed in relief. He slid slowly into her pussy, and she graciously accepted him. He began to rock his hips in a slow, steady rhythm—in and out—and she moaned softly. Her legs were trembling, and he could feel the vibrations around his waist. “Faster,” Alex whimpered. Though she was allowing him the pleasure of commanding the movements, she wanted to vocalize her control. When he picked up his speed with full, long thrusts, Alex smiled, knowing that she had accomplished what she set out to do, and it still held true. She was in control.
“You're so wet,” Roland whispered into her ear in awe. She shivered slightly at the sound of his voice, and the seductively pleasant tingle his breath caused in her ear. “So wet, and so tight,” he continued, and she whimpered softly. Admittedly, she was completely turned on by his voice and the fact that he was fucking her; but, not only that, but the fact that she still felt in control.
“You love it when I fuck you, don't you?” he asked her. The words prickled across her skin in a way that made her clit throb and her walls clench around his cock, as he continued to slide in and out. She didn’t nod; she couldn’t give him that satisfaction. She was in control, not him. As much as she wanted to nod, she couldn’t—not yet. He pulled away from her ear and looked at her, breathlessly.
He looked angry for a moment, but that was soon replaced by a smile and one of his hands moving from her hips in between them, carefully. He reached her clit and began to stroke her slowly with his thumb, teasing.
“Roland!” she hissed, trying to thrust her hips upward towards his thumb. He smiled, and pulled it away just enough so that she could feel it hovering over her. “Make me come!” As if that was the secret password, he began to fuck her faster.
He was intense and aggressive. It was everything she could hope for in that moment, as the friction from both his fingers and cock overtook her. The sensations were intense, and she was ready for release. She could tell that Roland could also feel his orgasm approaching. His look was as intense and pointed, as his thrusts were. His entire body tensed, and she could feel his abs flex against her. It was just the extra bit she needed…for all the sensations to come together to create one massive explosion. Her walls tightened around his pulsating cock, as her orgasm mounted. She felt his cum shoot inside of her, and it only added to the high; his hot juices filled her and warmed her body, igniting it more than it already had been.
Chapter 13
“So why did you sell yourself into the ring?” he asked as he flung his arms into his shirt and began to button it.
She scoffed.
“Why do you buy women?” she challenged.
“I only pay for women who do it voluntarily. Those are the true sluts,” he bent over until he was eye level to her and smirked evilly. “Those are the ones that ache to be fucked by a rich man.”
She scoffed again. That wasn’t why she did it.
“Tell me I’m wrong; you are all the same. You act like you don’t have a choice,” he got closer to her and his head tilted away from her ear so that his mouth was directly over it. “It’s always ‘boohoo, I have no money,’ but there are other ways to get money.”
He pulled away from her, his gaze fell to her eyes again, and he looked into them extensively. It was like he was peering into her soul. It was like he was somehow laser etching his point into her brain as he smirked again. “I mean, I didn’t get money by selling my cock to a rich bitch itching to have her pussy scratched, now did I?”
He smiled and stood up. He continued to button his shirt, and she continued to watch. His pecs were large and outlined beautifully through the white oxford dress shirt. She darted her eyes over every inch of his torso until it was completely covered by the shirt.
Though she had been somewhat distracted by his glorious body, she couldn’t help but draw on their similarities once again. She, too, knew that women had choices in all that they did, but there was something extremely flawed in Roland’s statement and the outspoken, feisty, argumentative side of her couldn’t let it go.
“Well, I agree,” she began, and he smiled. It was obvious that he thought that was all she was going to say, but it was also obvious that he didn’t have a fucking clue who she was. “To an extent.”
He looked at her, his attention piqued. “Oh?” he asked, a
grin beginning to form along his face. She could tell he was interested.
“Your experiences hold no ground here. You’re privileged, and if you know anything about life, you’ll know that those who are privileged—men such as yourself, for example—are afforded a certain amount of opportunities that other people just aren’t given.” She spoke more eloquently than she had wanted to. She wanted to tell him to get over himself and add-in that his rich, yuppy-ass had no idea what it was like to be poor.
“That’s what you think?” he asked, his demeanor shifting and his smile fading. There was something in his voice that sounded offended, but she couldn’t imagine what in the hell that could have been. She had been overly politically correct in what she had just said to him.
“I don’t follow.” Alex was confused, as she looked up at him from the floor of the den.
“I wasn’t always ‘privileged,’ as you say. I came from a broken home and had no money to my name for a really long time,” he defended, before bending over and grabbing his gray slacks from the floor. He forcefully grabbed them up and yanked them on in one of the quickest motions she had ever seen.
She couldn’t imagine him ever not being rich, but then again—just as he didn’t know her—she didn’t know him. Not really. “How so?” she questioned, really wanting to know more. She didn’t know why, but she had sensed a sense of humanity in him after all. Where she thought there was only a bitter, cold and empty void, there was actually a heart that felt. And though it wasn’t her usual forte to delve into the heart of anyone, she felt that maybe she could gain some insight on him.
There was one thing that Alex forgot though. She forgot how similar they really were. Though there was likely a glimmer of hope deep down in Roland, it was hidden by thorns so thick that no person would ever get through. Just like she would have done, he scoffed in response. Just like her, he shut down when she offered out her metaphorical hand to indulge in a soulful heart to heart.
“Fuck off!” he yelled, a hint of jest lay over his words. He wanted to keep it light, she could tell. “Let’s not confuse what this is; this isn’t a heartfelt kind of relationship. I know you women like to make it that, but it’s not. We aren’t to get close. We are to fuck. And fuck we will until the contract ends. The sooner you get on board with that, the better off we will be as business partners.”
And with that, he left. She grinned, astounded at the eeriness of their similarities. That is exactly how she would have behaved. She wasn’t sure why she offered her ear. She wasn’t interested in heart to hearts any more than he was. She wasn’t sure if she was truly just intrigued that Roland Peters had ever had a life less than perfect. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear him divulge his life’s secrets because she cared, or if she just wanted to revel in his past suffering. She wasn’t even sure if it was just some sort of mechanism to see just how alike they were.
But regardless, Alex now knew a little more about Roland. She wasn’t sure what she felt about it, but she knew now that Roland Peters hid from the world—just like she did. One of those elbows that she rubbed in the darkness belonged to him; he was just as secretly reclusive as she was—maybe even more so.
Chapter 14
Learning about Roland’s potential past. That’s what she called it—because she could never be sure what the truth was with him—had intrigued her so much that she found herself snooping in his things while he was off working at his mysterious job.
She wondered what he did all day, and all she had to go on was a business address. No name. No occupation title. Nada. She also wondered if he had a personal life. She already had suspicions that he didn’t have a girlfriend. How could he? It was nearly impossible to have two lives while maintaining a significant romantic relationship.
He was good at hiding himself, but not that good. At least, she hoped he wasn’t that good. She would hate to meet someone so completely disengaged from their emotions as to have the ability to live that much of a lie.
During her investigation, she looked in the obvious spots. His home office was first. She looked in the shelves, his desk, and the closet—anywhere and everywhere. Now, she had moved on to his bedroom. She wanted to discover something. What, she wasn’t sure, but she just had to know who she was sharing a roof with.
Flinging open his closet door led to quite the discovery. And part of her wondered, if she had the balls to do this, to rifle through all of his belongings looking for clues, why didn’t she have the balls to get her phone and call her brother every day while he was gone? It almost seemed like less of an offense though, to rifle through his things, rather than steal her own phone, and she wasn’t sure why.
But she ignored it…because what her eyes fell on was immaculate and caused a heat to rise in her nether region. Her cheeks flushed and clit throbbed, and although she took care of a few other matters first, she knew just how she was going to get what she now craved.
When she bestowed her eyes upon the shelf full of sex toys, she felt her clit pound with enthusiasm, and her arousal grew; and it grew quickly. If she was being honest, it was a bit embarrassing that she'd never owned a vibrator, or even used one, but she didn’t know if it would have been as fun had she used them on herself.
***
She somehow managed to muster up some courage and strut her petite body into the building. She walked with determination and an amazing confidence that she hadn’t had in quite some time. A permanent smile was plastered over her face, and she knew that this idea was one of the better ones that she had ever had. She was going to seduce her master. She was going to tell him what she found. She was going to tell him what it made her do. She was going to have him do naughty, naughty things to her, and she was coming to his place of work to tell him that.
When she entered through the glass doors of the ten-floor building, she looked at the directory, found his name, and traveled to his office space’s designated floor. The elevator opened, and the spacious floor was completely devoid of human life; there was no one else there. There was just her and a small, skinny, squirrely looking man behind the counter in the center of the large reception area. She couldn't really see him because his head was turned down, and he seemed to be staring at a closed book. She wondered what he was reading and who he was for that matter, but the headset on his ear gave her an indication that he was likely Roland’s assistant.
When she saw him and realized that she had to go through him first, she couldn't believe she was there, doing what she was doing. She didn't know what she'd been thinking, except that after several failed attempts, she still hadn't been able to make herself come. She wanted help; needed it. She wanted what she wanted; she was ready to have one of her fantasies fulfilled, and she was there to make damn sure it would happen. And she could only hope that he would appreciate the initiative. Though he had had difficulties with it in the past, she hoped that they had turned a bit of a sexual leaf and that he was more open, as she was, to new and interesting developments in that part of their arrangement.
The frustration of not being able to come had been enough to get her to come out of her shell and strut over to his office and request it specifically. But there was also the fact that she wanted to know more about him. In fact, she couldn’t believe she was finally seeing where he worked.
She approached the counter and looked down when she felt the heat rise to her face. The slave inside her knew that there was something really wrong with being there; but the kink in her loved the taboo of it and craved for her fantasy to be realized.
She took a moment to look at the man behind the counter. He was sitting down, but she could tell he was a tall man and incredibly lanky. She still couldn't see his face, but the top of his head was covered with soft, messy, ginger hair. His long fingers were tracing patterns on the book, and for a moment, she stood there mesmerized, wondering what it was like to be that interested in something. And then in an instant, his head shot up to look at her, surprise written all over his face.
&nbs
p; He hadn’t known she was there.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” he laughed. “It’s the slow time of day, and I wasn’t expecting a client of Mr. Peters to come in just yet.”
She quickly looked away, mortified with herself. How was she going to explain why she was there? She didn't even know Mr. Peters—not really. And she wasn’t quite sure she could just blatantly ask to see her master, the master she hated with passionate vigor. Even in her mind, when she whispered the words, it sounded bizarre—crazy even. And yet, there she was thinking about doing things with him, despite his ownership over him. Nay, even worse, she’d been thinking about letting him do things to her. What the fuck was wrong with her?
She looked at him for what seemed like a long time, trying to come up with an explanation, but she didn’t have one.
“Are you with Mr. Owen? I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago,and I wasn’t expecting a rep to be here so soon…” the man trailed. She had to appreciate the kindness his tone held. It was something she hadn’t heard a lot of lately. Living with Roland, she was used to something a little more demanding, low, and cruel.
This man had a higher pitched, yet soft and smooth voice that was quite pleasant to the ears. “No, no. I’m a new client,” she finally managed, smiling. She wanted to reciprocate the kindness he was presenting to her.
“Oh! Well he’s expecting Mr. Owen’s rep soon, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you just dropped in. Mr. Peters has a very open-door-policy and loves when people drop in! He has quite the personality! You’ll love working with him,” he replied with a sort of fondness. She felt like bursting with laughter at the hilarity of it all.
And then she knew the answer to several of the questions she had been asking from the very beginning. As she and the man continued to discuss Mr. Peters, Alex began to become painfully aware that no one really knew this man.