by Alexis Angel
I'm playing with fucking fire here – cavorting around with a stripper. We're looking at a scandal the size that's pretty much fucking incomprehensible.
Seeing Daphne in those black yoga pants and blue sports bra this morning has got the blood rushing to my cock like nothing else. I consider going and taking a shower and doing something about it.
But something catches my eye. Daphne, in her rush to avoid embarrassment, has forgotten to take her the panic key that Pressly gave her yesterday. A panic key is something that our security has given us. No matter where we are, as long as we're in the perimeter, anything happens, you push the panic alarm. Whether you tripped and fell, someone's trying to rob you, or you see a cat that's up in a tree, you push the panic alarm when you want security to come down.
She should have never left it.
Don't look at me like that. I'm not fucking chasing her. Besides, she couldn’t have gone far and knowing her, I’m betting she headed downtown than through the Park – she’s probably going to run by her fucking apartment to pick up some stuff.
I shrug to myself and grab the key, walking out the condo and into the elevator.
Besides, what the fuck kind of host would I be if I let something happened to her?
Which, considering her embarrassment, may already have happened.
Besides, I'm grinning at the thought of seeing the most innocent stripper I’ve ever met blushing uncontrollably when she sees me again, after she got caught dropping her nipple clamp.
I knew she'd love it.
But seriously, Daphne must be fucking new to stripping or something. I’ve never seen a more wholesome and innocent woman in my life. A normal stripper, she’d be all over me right now – fucking shucking off her clothes and climbing on my cock before she even moved in. She’d be doing the nastiest things to me after I rescued that boy who fell off the boat.
Daphne – it’s like she’s grown up around real princes and princesses.
Fuck, she acts more royal than me.
I'm on the bike, driving down 6th Avenue, looking at the sidewalk seeing if I can find her. Yeah, it's a fucking long shot. But my head is so fucking confused right now that the drive will do me good even if I don’t find her. Finding that nipple clamp this morning was intense. My cock stiffened so fucking fast I thought I was going to rip my boxer briefs.
A mile in, I see something that causes me to stop.
I see Daphne in the distance. And it looks like there's a black SUV that's pulled up on the side of the road. And a bloke that’s yelling and frothing at the fucking mouth and grabbing her by the arm and throat. There’s no one else on the sidewalk nearby and I see that fucker grab her and pulls her off into the side street.
I pull out my phone and speed dial Pressly.
"Pressly, tell Sam I need backup," I tell him. He's on his way. I hang up. He knows my coordinates from my panic key.
I look over again and I freeze.
Fuck me, if that bloke is the fucking Jake that Daphne was talking about then I’m going to kick the living shit out of him.
I see him move over and take Daphne by the arm. She's trying to pull away but he slaps her on the face.
That's fucking all I need. I'm not letting security handle this shit. I rev up my bike and head straight for him.
That’s fucking it. He has no idea what he’s unleashed.
I can hear her scream for help.
Fuck my visa. I don’t care if I get fucking deported tomorrow by the DA. No one fucking touches Daphne like that. I push down on the gas. Hard.
The man looks over as my motorcycle comes up, but I don't fucking stop. I'm going to run him over.
He looks at me and, grabbing Daphne towards the SUV.
“Get off of me, Jake!” Daphne yells and manages to take advantage of his distracted gaze towards me to free herself.
So this is actually the fucking wanker Jake, is it? This wanker is in for a real fucking treat.
I steer my bike right into him and he gets out of the way at the last second, but trips on my wheel and falls to the ground.
I hop off the bike and make sure Daphne is okay now that he’s let go of her. She’s leaning against the wall. I make sure she’s all right and then turn back to the guy as he’s standing up. He's sneering at me.
"So you like reclaiming your manhood by hurting women, huh?" I spit out.
He doesn't say anything. He just pulls out a knife and waves it at me frantically.
I smirk at him and rush over to him. He has no idea what happens when I grab him by the throat and punch him once in his gut.
Jake is a fucking moron because he gets back up and sneers at me. “That the best you got?” he asks.
He takes too long sneering and I bring my fist to his fucking nose.
All of a sudden, there's blood everywhere as I kick him in the gut and he bowls over. I bring my knee and it connects with his skull. The man is about to collapse to the floor but I hold him up.
I don't know what kind of game he was trying to pull here but it's not funny. He never gets a chance to do anything as I punch him in his face, right in the eyes, and he falls over on his back. That punch is so hard it makes me wince too. I hear the satisfying crunch that tells me I've done some damage. The man collapses to the ground and doesn't get up. So I do the only thing someone would do in this situation.
I pick him up and hold him by the throat. I punch him again and he really goes limp in my arms. I think he’s completely unconscious. I knee him one last time and that's when I hear Sam’s sirens. I let him drop to the ground as Sam and two other security guys come over. They look over the body.
Sam looks at me and I nod.
"Why'd you bother calling us, Sire?" he asks.
But I don't answer. I let his men place the three of them in restraints. They'll contact the local police - tell them about the trespassing and assault charges I intend to press.
I look at Daphne. She's staring at me wide-eyed.
"You forgot your panic button," I say and hold it up. Then I go over to her.
"Are you okay?" I ask her.
She's trembling. I hold her close to me and try to reassure her, “It’s okay."
She looks up at me.
"Derrick," she says, her voice scared. "Can you take me home?"
"Sure, love," I tell her. "Let's go."
She’s talking about my place. She’s calling it home.
I get on my bike and motion for her to do the same.
At first, she's a little unsure, but I give her my hand and she takes it, getting on.
Fuck, she's going to need a helmet. I take my helmet off and hand it to her.
"What about you?" she asks, her voice small.
I'll chance going without a helmet for her.
"I don't need a fucking helmet," I tell her. "I'm the fucking Prince."
She's quiet.
"Now, grab onto me," I instruct her.
She reaches around and grabs my body. Her tiny hands hold onto my abs, as if she's holding on for dear life.
Fuck me, her body is pressed up against me.
I'm in fucking heaven. That's not just the fucking adrenaline talking, mate. I feel like I'm fucking on top of the world, going down the road towards the house on my motorcycle as Daphne is holding on behind me, pressing her hot little body up against me. I am so fucking hard right now, it's impossible.
I need to get a hold of myself. I can't fucking keep thinking like this.
She's supposed to be my ticket to stay in the fucking country. Not another heart I fucking break.
Yeah, I know. I know. You're going to tell me I can fuck her and stay true to her. But I grew up with someone else, mate. Someone else I’m looking for. As perfect as she is, she’s no Alicia. If she ever knew how much I think about Alicia, she'd be disgusted and probably never talk to me again. That would be the end of it.
She can't feel the same way about me like I feel about her. That's not who I am. Fuck, remember who you're talking to
. I'm the fucking asshole, remember? I don't fall for girls. I don't get like this. I have fun with them. I treat them like princesses. And then we move on. We go our fucking separate ways.
That's right. Don't you ever forget that either.
The bike approaches One57 and I punch in the keypad on the gate to the parking garage, and drive through.
Daphne's stopped trembling by the time I get to the elevator and I wait for her to get off the bike and walk through the doors of the elevator before I relax.
I stare at her ass as she walks in.
What? I just took some guy to near death because he slapped her. I can't stare at her ass just a little bit?
She looks at me and smiles timidly before she walks in.
Fuck me, she doesn’t realize that she reminds me so much of Alicia that it’s fucking uncanny. My heart’s still beating and I think back to the years after pushing her into the pond, where I tried to talk to Alicia. But I never had the courage. And then, as she grew older, and matured into a woman - how I gave up. How bad boy Prince Derrick was too fucking afraid to talk to the woman of his dreams. And now, how this beautiful woman Daphne saw all that rage and anger at losing Alicia through his own inaction come out.
Christ, now she probably thinks in addition to everything else I've done, I'm a psycho too.
Fuck my life.
Alicia
I don't even know on what I should focus on as we head towards Derrick's apartment: the situation I was just in, or the way Derrick's hard rock abs feel under my fingers as I hold on to him.
I'm still shaking, my mind unable to let go of the hardness in Jake's eyes. How the hell did I ever feel something for someone like him? He's a monster! To think that he was ready to... I don't even know what he wanted to do with me! I'm just glad Derrick showed up when he did, like a true knight in shining armor. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't showed up.
I know Derrick told me to have my panic button with me at all times... But, somehow, I never actually thought I would end up needing to use it. I guess I was just so embarrassed by the nipple clamp I wanted to get away, and I forgot about it and left it behind. Of course, the Universe then found it funny to throw me in a situation where I would need it badly. In a way, though, I'm glad I forgot about it – being saved by Derrick is way better than being rescued by his nameless security staff.
I hold onto him tightly, my arms around his waist as we roar down 6th Avenue, the bike cruising easily through the traffic. Soon enough we're parking on One57's parking garage – which, by the way, looks more like a luxurious sports car stand than a true garage – and I start to breathe easier.
He guides me towards the elevator and, as I enter it, I feel my whole body relaxing, the adrenaline that coursed through me starting to fade. Within moments we’re in his apartment. I look at Derrick, a meek smile on my lips. What do you even say to a man that might have just saved your life? And to think that the reason I'm with him is to ruin him...
“Thank you,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.
“For what?” He asks, almost as if he doesn't realize what he has just done. “Look... I'm sorry you had to see all that, Daphne.”
He's sorry? Now that's something I wasn't expecting. Why does he even feel sorry? It wasn't his fault.
“No... Don't tell me you're sorry,” I say, my eyes locking on his. “You... You saved me. I don't even know how I can thank you.”
I try and smile at him, an almost imperceptible flicker of rage on his eyes.
“I will never let anyone fucking hurt you. I'll die before that happens, love,” he says, the intensity behind his voice making my heart flutter. I feel my skin prickling, my cheeks flushing and... Oh, God, am I getting wet? I am, I really am - I mean, how could I not be getting wet right now? Derrick, a man richer than God and with a body more perfect than Apollo, is protective of me... And not only that, he remembers Alicia, my true identity. I still can't understand how he remembers that small young girl from so long ago... And yet, I can't deny it: I'm happy that he hasn't forgotten about me.
And why am I this happy? Why am I attracted to him in a way that I've never felt before in my life? I truly don't have answers for any of these questions... And it doesn't matter, not now at least. All that matters is that I'm safe, back within the high-rise apartment I share with Derrick. And, more important than all that, he's here with me, by my side... He's so close that if I just reach for him with my hand, lay my fingers on his chest and – oh God, why can't I stop having all these thoughts?
Truth be told, I don't want to control them. Not right now. I just want to surrender to this desire that fills me. I know, I know... None of this was supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel any of this towards Derrick, I wasn't supposed to push my job and mission to the back of my mind and let instinct take over... But then again, Jake wasn't supposed to cheat on me and turn into a dangerous monster. Life never happens the way it's supposed to be, and that's not always bad.
“You ok, love?” He asks me, cutting through all this web of contradicting thoughts that float inside my head.
“Yes... I'm alright now. Thanks to you, Derrick,” I say, my eyes locked on his, a strange tension brewing in the air between us. Before I know it, my eyes are wandering to the perfect shape of his mouth and to his full lips... My heart is racing inside my chest, and I can feel all rationality inside of me becoming numb.
The job, Alicia, think of the job, I try and tell myself. But I can't do what I'm asking of myself. I can't keep a clear head and pretend that I can resist him... Because I can't, to think otherwise would be just a lie.
“Don't thank me,” he takes one step towards me, brushing the tip of his long fingers against my cheek. “You will never have to thank me for anything, Daphne.”
Just like that, I know there's no possible escape. His warmness on my skin, the mixture of adrenaline and lust that runs through my veins... I'm tired of pretending I don't want him. I'm tired of acting as if I can resist my true feelings and desires.
I take one step towards him, our bodies just inches away, and I finally accept it – I want him. I want him bad. And I will surrender to this.
I grab the hand he has on my face, my fingers locking on his, and my lips curl into a smile. I look at him, losing myself in his eyes.
Maybe there's a reason life put me in front of Derrick after so many years apart... And, for better or worse, I'm going to find out what it is.
He leans into me and I close my eyes, surrendering to his kiss. His lips part and, in an instant, we are lost in a frenzied kiss, our tongues dancing in circles around each other.
Oh my God!
I’m so wet I’m surprised my juices aren’t dripping down my legs. It feels good to surrender; it feels good to accept what I want to do. Just look at him! He’s perfection incarnate! My fingers act by instinct and, grabbing the collar of his shirt, I tug on it and make all the buttons down to his waist pop one after the other. He throws the shirt to the floor and, as he does it, I stop our kiss and fall to my knees as if my legs suddenly became week. I just can’t take this anymore - I need to feel his hard and thick cock, and I need it fast. And by fast I mean now.
I don’t even care about my job right now. With all this adrenaline still rushing through me, it’s hard to care about anything else besides his perfect thick muscles.
He’s controlling even in his kissing, slowing the pace and speeding up at will, just to let me know he’s in control. His hand is in the nape of my neck, positioning my head so that he can take my mouth passionately. His tongue is experienced, and I’m soaking wet already. He takes these pauses, where he bites my lip, pulling it between his perfectly straight teeth, and then he pulls that handsome face and just looks at me. Each time I stare breathless, waiting for him to say something, but he never does. Once he squinted and I wondered if he was realizing who I really was, that it’s me Alicia, but he just pulled me in again and slid his tongue against mine.
> “You don’t have to do anything, Daphne,” he says to me and I have a sinking feeling to just tell him the truth, all of it.
“What do you mean?” I ask instead.
“You don’t owe me for beating up your wanker boyfriend,” he explains.
“Oh, no… I know that,” I assure him, a little taken aback that he would even care why I finally gave in to his seduction. He’s obviously wanted to fuck me since we met, why is he acting like it matters why I choose to sleep with him.
“This is probably his worst fear, someone else getting what used to be his,” he smirks while pulling me towards him.
“He’s never had me,” the words fall out of my mouth. If I’m not going to tell him the whole truth, I can at least tell him parts of who I really am.
“You’ve never been with him?” He asks confused and I shake my head.
“I’ve never been with anyone,” I clarify, fearing his reaction. Guys like Derrick don’t want a virgin. They want someone with experience who they can trust not to get all caught up, thinking its love. I know, he’s admitted that he was in love with me, but he doesn’t know I’m me. You know what I mean, don’t look at me like that.
“Are you serious?” He drops his hand from my neck and takes a step back, his eyes wide in shock, possibly horror. He tilts his head to look at me closely as if he’s inspecting something and I look on in anticipation.
“If you don’t want to --,” I start but his tongue is in my mouth before I can get the words out. If his kisses were a sensual passionate before, these are a desperate passion. He is kissing me like his life depends on it, like the key to his heart’s desires are locked within me. When he finally releases me I’m panting and I can feel my lips are swollen.