by Zoey Parker
“So long as we understand each other,” he said, his voice as neutral as his face. “You’re mine –
until I’m done with you.”
“Yes,” she said. What else could she have said?
Chapter Seven
Tess relaxed against the headboard, taking in the handsome man stretched out next to her. She hadn’t had a chance to observe him before; first, he’d been a man she would fuck because she had to, and then he’d been a killing machine, and now he was a man who’d take what he wanted, even if she said no. She had no control. She couldn’t get free from this. It made her shiver, and she felt a fresh wave of wetness in her cunt.
“Milo,” she said, turning the name over in her mouth.
It was a good name, and it fit him. He was tall and broad through the shoulders, but his torso narrowed sharply at his waist. There wasn’t a single bit of showy muscle on him; he was lean, whipcord thin, and she had no doubt that he could subdue her in any way he saw fit, whenever he chose to do so. His hair stood out; it was cropped close, but it was a dark reddish-brown, the sort of auburn that made her think it had been bright red when he was a child and would be mostly brown by the time he started to go gray. He had that sort of pale skin as well, freckled over the bridge of his nose and on his shoulders and arms. She liked the look of him. And she liked the look of his incredible cock, which was already hardening against his hip.
“Tess,” he replied. “What’s it short for?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was sharp, and his eyebrows went up, his gaze darkening. She shivered at the intensity and forced herself to take a deep breath. “I mean. My mom wasn’t planning for me to be a doctor or a judge or something. She just called me something she thought she’d remember.”
He nodded, opening his mouth to say something else, but the sound of a tinny song put both of them on pause. He rolled off the bed with the smoothness of a cat and took his phone off a side table. His head slipped sideways for just a moment at whatever he saw on the screen, but then he tapped the phone and lifted it to his ear.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you. Especially now.”
It fascinated her how he could have a conversation completely naked, his cock still hard and thick, jutting out from his pelvis. If she’d been the one on the phone, she would have either found her mood going cool, or let her fingers slip between her lips, stroking the soft velvety wetness of her cunt. In fact… She waited until he was looking at her, and then let her free hand wander, twisting at a nipple, then trailing down until she was stroking her clit. Without pausing her conversation, he leaned over and slapped her hand away. His expression was dark but heated; he pointed a finger at her face, clearly telling her he expected her to behave. She grinned and blew him a kiss. The next touch was to her cheek. It wasn’t quite hard enough to be considered a slap, but it stung all the same. The sound his hand made on her face was sharp and intense, and it made her hotter.
“No, it’s fine,” he said into the phone. “Just dealing with a bitch who doesn’t know her place.”
She relished that she’d caught his attention, even if it had been because she was naughty. He turned away from her as if she deserved none of it, but she could see the weeping pre-cum on the tip of his cock, and she wanted more than anything to swallow his cock.
“No, I understand,” he said into the phone. There was a dry laugh. “Silk Road is not to be denied.”
She tried to hold back the gasp. She knew that name, knew it very well from Toro’s rants. It often led to him throwing things and slamming things. That was when he tended to take out his belt, and there was no more play; those were the times he aimed to hurt her. He’d belt her ass raw, not caring if the tip of the belt wrapped around a hip or a thigh and left incredible bruises or cut her skin. That was when he’d have one of the men fuck her hard while he stroked his limp prick. Sometimes he flapped it in her face, looking for her to suck it, even when it was limp. She’d loved those nights as much as she’d hated them.
Milo heard the indrawn breath, and his expression darkened further. He switched seamlessly to Spanish – a Continental accent, though, not a Mexican or South American one, which was intriguing. She wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but living with Toro had made it impossible not to pick up a few words here and there. He was talking about drugs, and about murder. She knew that much. She tried hard to avoid listening. Toro had kept her around because she knew enough to get him sent away for a very long time. Milo looked like if she knew much of anything about his business, he would kill her, and not feel even a little bit bad about it.
“It’ll be done,” he said, switching back to English.
His voice was calm as he disconnected the call, but as soon as he’d hit the button, his hand flashed up to shoulder level, as if he was about to throw the phone, and only stopped himself at the last moment. He flung it to the floor where its noise was muffled by the carpet. He stood still for a long moment, impossibly still, except for his chest, which was heaving.
When he finally spun to her, his eyes were absolutely wild. “Open your fucking mouth,” he snarled out.
Tess did it, without hesitation. Her cheek ached from the slap he’d given her, but that incredibly hard and thick cock was worth the ache.
It wasn’t that she expected him to be gentle; she wasn’t sure he’d ever been gentle before, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to start now, with a woman he’d handcuffed to a bed and then fucked without caring what she thought about it. But the grip he took in her hair, the way he lined up her mouth and his cock the same way he would have done with her cunt – it made her breath catch in her throat. He didn’t give her a chance to get ready. He slammed his cock into her mouth the same way he’d slammed into her pussy, harsh and hard, expecting her to catch up if she cared to. He punched at the back of her throat, and there was a harsh moment where she felt a gag start, where she couldn’t breathe, and panic started to rise up her throat. She got control of herself and swallowed hard, pulling the head of his cock just a little bit farther inside, past where it made her body twist against him. She sucked him hard, working him while he groaned into her mouth. She pulled her feet under her again, shifting to get a better angle for him, and went to work, a good little slut who loved sucking cock nearly as much as she loved getting fucked.
He tasted amazing; his cock was rich and dark tasting, but there was also a lighter flavor. It took her a moment to recognize the addition of her own cunt to his natural flavor. It made her groan against his cock, and he thrust harder into her throat.
His hand twisted in her hair, pulling painfully at her scalp, twisting her here and there as he fucked up into her mouth. She followed his rhythm as it sped up. He was cruel and angry in her mouth, without finesse or glamour; he wanted a hot wet place to come, and that was what she was. Just a receptacle for him. My no doesn’t matter, she told herself and felt her cunt clench in need.
She got almost no warning when he came. She felt his balls draw up tight, and then he grunted a single time; the rush of thick cum down her throat made her choke and gag, and he just kept coming, a hot rush of fluid that she could barely keep up with. She couldn’t swallow all of it; his cum ran down her chin, splashing onto her tits and dripping off. She looked for a splash of heat or warmth in his eyes, but there was nothing there. His expression was entirely cold.
He drew back from her, looking up and down her messy body, then reached past her to unlock the wrist that was handcuffed to the bed.
“You look messy,” he said. “Go shower.”
Tess couldn’t help rubbing the raw wrist that had been chained in place, but it wasn’t because it hurt. Her cunt was aching, and she had a long moment of wondering what would happen if she climbed onto his cock and tried to bounce there. Would he let her be on top, to fuck him like that, to take what she wanted?
No. No, almost certainly not. He wasn’t going to let her have that kind of control. Not unless he wanted her to. She should do what he told her. She nodded, more dem
ure than she’d ever been with Toro, and went into the bathroom. She let her hips sway gently as she went, however, loving the feeling of slick heat between her pussy lips. She almost expected to feel the crack of his hand on her ass, but he let her go without that. For now.
The bathroom was glorious, much nicer than the smallish hotel room had implied it would be. There was a sunken tub, and a separate shower enclosure, all glass. Big, fluffy towels were stacked on the sink, and there were small bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in a porcelain dish by the faucet. She collected the things she wanted and set them inside the shower, then turned the water on and waited for it to heat.
It was difficult to lay her finger on exactly what was making her so heated with Milo. Yes, he played rough, and that was good. She wasn’t sure it was entirely play for him, and that was better. Toro had made a show of forcing her into various things, but she’d always been far too aware that if she actually wanted to get away from him, it would have been simple. A few phone calls and his entire empire would have come crashing down.
But Milo had something entirely different in his expression and in his movements. She didn’t think she could get away from him without serious harm to herself, and maybe not even then. She’d always thought she’d tolerated and enjoyed Toro’s games because she had the ability to flee if she really, really needed to. Somehow, she was finding, being trapped here with Milo was not anywhere near as terrifying as it should have been. Or if it was, then it was the kind of terrifying that heightened pleasure instead of cooling it off.
Her fingers slipped between the lips of her pussy and dragged slowly over her clit. The rush of pleasure made her cry out, and she bit her lip hard to stifle the sound. She didn’t know what he’d think of her touching herself here. Would he call her a slut, wanting to come again so soon after he’d fucked her? Would it be true? Would she mind?
She wanted to resist, but she wanted to be caught. She caught her clit between her fingers and tugged, tugged hard like he had. The rush of pleasure made her knees weak, and she had to bite her hand to keep herself from screaming, then begging him to join her, to fuck her all over again.
Chapter Eight
Milo listened to his captive’s muffled cries of pleasure, clearly audible over the shower. His cock had gone a tiny bit soft after he’d come down her throat, but the way she’d sashayed into the bathroom, and then listening to her try to hide how she was fucking herself, had been more than enough to get him hard again.
He’d always liked his sex on the rough side of kinky, but he’d never allowed himself to be as distracted as he was right now. It was absurd. He’d become enraged after just moments on the phone with Silk Road, as he’d received a chastising he had absolutely deserved. He’d been distracted by an old enemy and a pretty face. He had allowed his target to escape. He might have blown the entire job. And that after Silk Road had wired half a million dollars to his off-shore accounts for “unanticipated expenses”. The drug lord had every right to be furious with him.
But Milo had never taken well to be chastised – to being treated as inferior. Much of his childhood had been spent with people explaining to him just how useless and wasted he was, making absolutely without-a-doubt clear that he was trash. In retrospect, he could understand that this had been done so that he could be rebuilt in the image of the organization that had taken charge of him after his parents died. But knowing why it had been done did not heal the wounds it had caused. And in truth, Milo wasn’t sure he would have healed them if he could have. Without the shadowy group of assassins and international terrorists, he would have been a beggar, struggling to stay alive on the streets. He probably would have been raped a dozen times, turned into a prostitute. In the city where he’d grown up, young boys fetched an unbelievable price. Instead, he’d been protected. He’d been cared for. And if his sexual desires had turned to the darkest of the dark, well, then that was a small price to pay for a livelihood.
He’d taken Tess on the bed because his cock had been hard, and he wanted her. He’d fucked her mouth because he needed a release for the incredible fury that had arisen as Silk Road tore into him, threatened him, and made extremely clear what he expected to see next. And made sure that Milo knew, without a doubt, what would happen if he failed again. He was hard again, thinking of water slipping down that pretty, plump body with her heavy tits and rounded ass. Let other men fantasize about skinny models and delicate-boned actresses. They were welcome to them. He wanted a woman who could handle being thrown around, who could take his cock without crying about it, who had something for him to grip and bruise and hurt. He wanted a woman who could be broken without breaking.
When he’d asked Tess if her ‘no’ meant anything, passion and need had flared in her eyes. She’d cried when he first slammed into her, but by his second thrust, she was gushing wet around his cock. He’d never felt anything like it. He’d never been ready again so fast.
He couldn’t afford this level of distraction. He needed to be focused on what happened next. He took his cock in hand and stroked, hard and fast and vicious, his grip almost impossibly tight. The moisture from his tip was just enough to keep his hand from actually rasping over his flesh, and he felt release just over the horizon. This was how it was for him, for years. Rough, fast orgasms, just enough to make sure his libido didn’t interfere with what he needed to do. It felt familiar. Comfortable. And nothing like enough.
She was naked there, under the water. He could go to her, go into the shower, push her up against the wall and have her. As much as he wanted. She wouldn’t say no to him. He knew that. When he’d said that he expected her to pay him for his protecting her, she hadn’t so much as flinched. Perhaps her body was a currency she was accustomed to using. Maybe she even enjoyed it.
It would be good, he was quite sure, using her that mercilessly. But he couldn’t get used to her. He couldn’t afford to get used to her. He needed to maintain his distance. Be the killer that Silk Road and others like him expected. He needed to be a cold machine, focused on the task in front of him. She was not the task. She was sweet and sexy and plump and exactly what he wanted, and she was not the task.
But when he came, rough and hard and grunting, it was thinking of how her cunt had squeezed his cock when she came. He spurted hard and thick, catching the release in an old T-shirt to minimize cleanup. The drop of energy was always incredible and was part of why he so rarely indulged himself in this if it wasn’t actively distracting him from the things he needed to do. He let himself sag for just a moment as his cock pulsed out the last drops of cum, and then shook himself, pulling back his awareness from the beauty in the next room. He changed his clothes, shaking out the kinks in his muscles, and started to think harder about what Silk Road had told him. He was focused enough on his thought process that the water shutting off in the bathroom pinged his brain, but was quickly filed away as unimportant, and didn’t distract him.
When she walked into the room, buck naked and her hair wrapped in a towel, however, he had to clench the muscles in his pelvis to keep his cock from filling all over again. He was like a teenager, and it was ridiculous. He would not tolerate this.
“How much did you understand of that conversation?” he asked. He let the sharpness he felt about the curves of her body come out in his tone.
She raised an eyebrow at him – Christ that made him want to slap her tits until she cried, until she said she was sorry for failing to respect him – and then stretched languidly. She was, at the bare minimum, aware of how good she looked doing that, and enjoying his responses. Bitch. There was a movie in his head about making her pay for that latter with the snap of his belt across her plump ass. God, she’d look good striped like that.
Focus, Milo, for fuck’s sake.
She shook her head. “My Spanish isn’t very good.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not an answer.”
“Sorry.” She sat down on the bed, stretched her legs out and leaned on the headboar
d. “Did you have any clothes for me or am I just laying around naked, ready to be used whenever you want me?”
There was something under the bold language, something that made him think there was more bravado and nervousness there than he would have assumed from the way she displayed herself. Interesting. She’d certainly been bold enough before. But then, maybe there was something else going on.
“I asked you a question,” he said, standing and looming over the bed. “Answer it like a good girl, and I’ll think about answering yours. Mouth off to me again, and we’ll see if you were just pretending to like being forced into things.”
She shifted on the bed, her face a constructed mask of sexual prowess, but now that he was looking, he thought he could see some of the edges.
“So sorry, sir,” she said, and the subtle emphasis she placed on the honorific made it nearly impossible to control his dick. But she didn’t mean it, not like a girl should when she put that kind of word in her mouth. He slapped her left tit almost idly. The way her breath hissed in at the sharp clap of the sound made him think she didn’t mind in the least.