by J. L. Beck
“Suck me. I want your lips wrapped around my cock.”
She blinks as if coming out of a daze and whispers, “What?”
I lift her chin so I can look down at her. Her lush pink lips only inches from the tiny drops of pre-cum already leaking out of me. “If you put your mouth on me. I want to feel you fight me as you take me into your body. Feel your anger bleed out of you and be replaced with something else entirely.”
Her eyelids shutter for a moment as she contemplates my words. I continue, though, wanting more of that fire in her eyes before I take her. “Besides, I made you come, hard, if I’m any judge, and now you owe me a thank you, and I believe your mouth will do nicely.”
Oh, yes. Color splashes across her cheeks as she grips me tighter. I bite back a groan before it can escape.
“You enjoy fighting me, stellina. Every second closer to the submission, you know I’ll take, only turns you on more. Lick it… but I promise, if you bite me, you will regret it immediately,” I grit through my teeth.
She’s panting through her nose, her nostrils flaring wide as she glares up the line of my body. But her fingers still flex around my aching cock, and she keeps tracing her lips with her tongue, obviously contemplating her next move.
After some sort of internal struggle, she presses up onto her knees to get the right angle and gently—so fucking gently—touches the tip of her tongue to the head of my cock. I don’t bother fighting the groan this time, letting it roll through me.
Her eyes go wide with shock, and she leans in carefully, taking only the crown between her lips and clamping down softly. I peer down at her, and dammit to all hell, she looks so fucking perfect with my cock in her mouth. The only thing that would look better is watching my cum dribble out of her cunt. I can’t think about that, though, not right now, and probably not ever. She isn’t mine to keep, touch, or play with.
“Fucking harder.” The icy edge to my voice makes her jump. “I’m not one of your little bitch boyfriends who will come from the first brush of a woman’s mouth, and believe me, you were playing with boys before. It’s time for you to learn what a man will do for you.”
She pulls away and glares. “Maybe I will. Once I’m finished with you.”
I take her chin in my hand and squeeze it tight. It’s more about asserting my dominance than fighting her mouthy rant. “Suck my cock before I simply fuck your face. Which I’ll do anyway. I’m only giving you a few minutes to get used to me first. Don’t test my generosity.”
Defiance and fury reach a new high, and I revel in her misery as I shove her face away. Once she resettles between my feet, she takes hold of me again with more force than before, and I grab the back of her head and take her soft hair into my fist and pull her toward me.
She drapes her mouth over me again and slides her tongue along the underside of my shaft as she presses forward.
I hiss out a breath. “Yes.”
With my control stretching taut on thin threads, I keep hold of her head and let her express her frustration with her mouth. Despite my warning, she scrapes her teeth against the crown of my cock gently, making stars shoot from behind my eyes.
“Watch your fucking teeth, or I’ll pull them out one by one,” I warn. “Use both hands.”
She immediately clamps both of her hands onto the base of my cock and tries to find a rhythm between them. Her inexperience makes it all the better for her enthusiasm, despite the fight in her eyes.
“Meet your mouth with your hands, and you’ll find the rhythm you’re looking for,” I offer.
She rounds her gaze up to glare at me but follows my instruction and catches the pattern she chased unsuccessfully before.
I’m fighting the urge to shove deeper, harder, faster, to use her mouth and throat to come. My knees are shaking with the effort to keep myself in check and standing up straight. It won’t last long, but I can give her these few minutes.
I tighten my grip on her hair and study her from this angle. The soft slope of her nose leads down to her plush lips. There’s even the slightest dusting of freckles across the top of her cheekbones I hadn’t noticed before. It’s something she’s always hid under makeup when in public. Her eyebrows are strong over her big eyes. Never overdone like the girls Soo picks up and brings home occasionally.
But I love the silky weight of her hair in my hands the most. I flex my fingers through it and take another fistful. She whimpers against me, and I realize I’ve shoved deeper into her mouth in my reverie. And fuck, it feels good.
I grip her hair tighter and pull her deeper onto me, so much so that she has to release her hands. At first, she gags, and I let her pull away just enough to get her bearings back.
“Open your throat,” I say, my voice deep and grating. “I’m going to fuck your face.” Her eyes reflect a sliver of fear, and I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do. “Be a good girl and take my cock how I give it to you.”
Her eyes are shooting daggers at me, but she knows this is going to happen whether or not she likes it. Almost imperceptibly, she gives a little nod, even with her lips spread so obscenely.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Put your hands on your thighs.”
She doesn’t respond for a moment, then slides her hands down to her thighs, pulling her torso better in line with my legs. Fuck, when she surrenders, she does it almost as beautifully as when she fights.
I surge my hips forward, and the motion is hard and fast. As the mushroom head of my cock hits the back of her throat, her hands go up to shove against my thighs. She clamps around me like a vice, and I don’t even bother stopping the groan which emits from deep within my chest. “Fuck, that’s good.”
Again, I retreat and shove forward, taking it slow to begin. I look down at her through a lustful haze and see tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes and down the apples of her cheeks. Her fists are clamped around my legs so tightly I can feel her fingernails digging into me with each punishing stroke I take into her mouth.
“You want this as much as I do,” I tell her and surge forward again. Each entry and retreat into her hot wet mouth is a slice of heaven. A tiny bit of her, that’s all mine. “You want to be my toy, my little whore. You want me to use you, even if you are not ready to admit it yet.”
With my patience shredded, I set a brutal pace, surging into her so hard and fast my balls slap against her chin and neck. She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she does, but knows there is nothing she can do. Her eyes squeeze shut as she lets me use her mouth again and again.
I wish I’d given her some makeup. So I could watch mascara and eyeliner track over her cheeks. Evidence of her submission after I shoot my cum down her throat.
She wiggles between my feet and readjusts her hands on my legs, squirming as I use her hair and the back of her neck as an anchor. My balls draw up against my body, and I pump into her wet, warm mouth faster. I’m on the cusp of my release. My toes curl in my shoes, and my muscles tighten before a lightning bolt of pleasure zaps through me.
“Take my cum. Be a good slut and swallow it all.”
I growl as I explode, her throat constricting, milking the semen right out of my fucking balls. She obeys, her little throat bobbing as she swallows around the thick head of my cock. A loud groan of approval escapes my lips, and I ignore her hot gaze on me. Once the aftershocks of my orgasm recede, I carefully release my hold on her head, and she pulls her mouth away. The skin around her mouth is flushed red, her cheeks are stained with tears, and yet, I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.
I carefully tuck myself back into my pants and crouch down, so I can look her in the eyes from where she is sprawled out on the floor.
“You keep fighting me with every word you throw my way. But next time, remember your body knows exactly what you want and what only I can give you if you obey so sweetly.”
I reach out and pluck one of her puckered nipples. A shocked gasp fills the air, and she slaps my hand away.
All I can do is smirk. �
��See, you liked that, and yet, you push back against me. Even knowing I can make it feel so good for you.”
She looks away almost shyly and swallows again, clearing her, no doubt, raw throat. “It’s because you take without asking. You just take what you want, so I’m forced to give in even if I don’t want to.”
I study her, the vehemence in her ravaged voice. I knew what her body wanted even if her brain didn’t. She was too caught up in the hate she had for me to admit it.
“How is it taking when I can so clearly see you want to give it to me? The only thing telling me no,” I trace my thumb down her swollen bottom lip, my cock hardening again at the reminder of what we’ve just done, “is your mouth.”
She throws her chin up, a mask of defiance in place now, and it only makes me smile. Every inch of her is screaming for me to throw her across the bed and shove myself inside her so deeply that she won’t know where I end, and she starts. To take and fuck her into complete submission. It would be easy, too easy, and yet, a voice in the back of my head holds me back. She’s a temptation I cannot afford, a casualty of war. My fight might be with her father, but in the end, hurting her will be the same as hurting him.
When my own body starts responding again, I stand and grab my belt from the bed to avoid temptation.
Little Celia hasn’t figured it out yet, but even her pleasure belongs to me. Until I let her go, I’ll take it every chance I can get.
“So that’s it? You use me and leave?” she whispers.
Who does she think she is?
“Yes, that’s exactly how it is.” I sneer. “Besides, you came harder than you ever have in your life, guaranteed. Don’t act like I took something from you that you weren’t prepared to give me.”
“I don’t want you. I don’t want to be trapped here.” She stares down at the sheets, a visible shiver rippling through her. “You don’t understand. My father doesn’t care about me. Why do you think he was marrying me off? If you’re trying to hurt him, taking me won’t do that. Selling me won’t bother him.”
It’s funny she thinks I care. That she thinks anything she says to me will change the outcome of what’s going to happen. She’s taken a perfect evening and destroyed it.
“It’s not about bothering him or him being hurt about losing you. It’s about control. It’s about taking something that’s his and crushing it in my fist. It’s about watching him squirm and putting a bullet between his eyes.”
I turn and walk out of the room, slamming the door shut and flicking the lock into place before I do something stupid, something that I won’t be able to come back from.
She doesn’t understand that this runs deeper than anything she could ever imagine. This isn’t just revenge, it’s blood for blood, and I’m going to make certain when our time together ends, she sees that.
15
Celia
Even hours later, I can still taste him on my lips. Not just the cum, which he unceremoniously dumped down my throat, but him. The slightly spicy but clean taste of him. Worst of all is that I want more, even after what he did to me, how he used me, and the things he said afterward. I still want more of him, and I don’t know how to stop the want.
All night, I laid awake in bed thinking about him. About the way he touched me and how I reacted. I didn’t understand how he could degrade me and make me come at the same time?
I sit at the countertop in the kitchen, shuffling eggs around the plate that Sarah shoved my way the second I walked in. They taste fine, but I’m not ready to let go of everything else yet. Even if it’s just in my mind since I brushed my teeth last night.
“Salt,” someone asks.
I blink and realize Sarah is staring at me. I also realize she’s noticed I’m shoving my eggs around my plate. She slides the salt and pepper shakers across the granite countertop to me. “You’re distracted this morning.”
My mouth pops open, and I feel like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “I’m just tired. Plus, according to his majesty, it’s almost time for me to leave.”
Sarah gives me a sort of hum noise. Either she knows I’m leaving soon, or she doubts I’m leaving soon, and I can’t be certain which. I study her for another moment and wonder how she fits into this world. She doesn’t look like she belongs with a bunch of criminal masterminds. How much blood had she cleaned up while Nicolo rose to his power?
Considering she supplies my food, I decide not to ask such a pointed question. I focus on my plate again and eat as much as I can. I’ve gotten into a rhythm here in the house, but Nicolo intends to ship me off again soon. I don’t know if my meals in the future will be more regular.
A hard lump builds in my throat, and I shove my plate back across the counter toward Sarah’s turned back. It’s not the idea of leaving here that worries me, but who I’m leaving with and what they will do with me. My captor hasn’t exactly been gentle, but neither has he truly hurt me because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to sell me.
When Sarah turns away from the sink and back to me, I try not to fidget under her reproving look.
She doesn’t comment on the food, though, and points toward the hall. “You’re on firewood duty today. There are some gloves and a stack of wood in the foyer. Just put a few in each room that needs it.”
The last time she sent me wandering through the house, things didn’t go well. First with Lucas, and then with Nicolo afterward. But I didn’t dare to argue. Sarah doesn’t budge on the jobs she gives me.
I head down the hall toward the foyer. It’s beautiful in dark hardwood and blackened stainless steel. Another touch of elegance Nicolo presents in his surroundings, but not his person.
I frown at the enormous pile of wood and then at the guards near the door. It’s not as if I have a choice. I slip on the gloves and make a quick stack of firewood in my arms. I decide to take the furthest room first and work backward toward the foyer. Which will put me in Nicolo’s office. The one he’s likely occupying right now.
Before I force myself to rethink my plan, I head up the stairs and down the long hallway, past my room and toward his office. The door is open as I approach.
Nicolo sits behind his desk, scribbling in his ledger. The moment I enter, his eyes lock onto me, and I can feel the weight of his gaze as I cross the room to a small box where a few pieces of wood sit.
When I glance up again, he’s back focusing on his work. I blink and settle the pile of wood on the floor in front of the fireplace, strip off my gloves, and wait for him to say something. Long minutes pass as I watch him, but he doesn’t look up at me again or so much as twitch in my direction.
It’s not as if I expect a thank you note for taking his cock down my throat last night, but a little acknowledgment would be nice. I huff out a breath and force myself to smile, even if it probably doesn’t meet my eyes. “Good morning.”
He doesn’t even pause in his writing at the sound of my voice. An ache roots itself in the center of my sternum. I wouldn’t call it pain exactly, but it’s not comfortable. I feel dismissed, like a toy that’s been played with and tossed to the side.
“You’re not going to speak to me?” I ask as I reach down and stack a piece of wood in the box. “After everything that happened last night, you could at least acknowledge me.” I don’t bother to hide my anger toward him.
Again, he doesn’t respond. I sigh and toss another piece into the box so it thumps around inside loudly. But the noise doesn’t seem to inspire a response. I decide to continue talking as if he has responded to me. If anything, he’ll get annoyed with me.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I didn’t sleep well, but my face is a tad sore, as is my neck because some asshole had to get his jollies off with my mouth.” No way in hell I’m letting him know how much I enjoyed it. The sheer power of being on my knees for him, watching as he unraveled all that tight control he keeps bottled up.
“Breakfast was great, and Sarah—as always—gave me an excellent chore to do today, which I assum
e is at your instruction. Thanks for that. Carting firewood around, half-naked, is super fun in case you were wondering.”
I grab the other piece of wood and wait to throw this one in the box while I stare at him. Hoping he’ll at least say something. When he doesn’t, I huff loudly.
This time, he slams his pen on the desk and glares at me over the ledger. “Things here haven’t changed,” he says, his voice deep and menacing.
I swallow a tingle that starts in my fingertips and races through me.
“Just because I used your body last night does not make us friends. Why would I care how you are today? You’re a pretty distraction that will soon be out of my hair once I sell you. Last night, I was testing the merchandise.” He drops his chin to resume his work.
I blink, the fear receding in an ebb of something darker, something stronger. “Testing the merchandise?” I intone, tasting the words on the edge of my anger. “You made me come.”
“Only to prove a point. You think I care if you come? I don’t give a—”
I clutch the last block of firewood in my hand and launch it over the desk at him.
With his fast reflexes born from survival, he dodges the wood, which thumps to the ground behind him. But that little expression of the boiling rage inside me does nothing to quench it. I march across the room and slap him so hard, pain stings through my hand and up into my elbow.
Some of my anger shifts back into fear, and I take one tentative step away from him. “You are a fucking bastard. I’m not some animal to be locked up and sold for profit. I’m a human being, something I thought was getting through your dense skull.”
His eyes spark before he grins down at me. “Stellina, you mean nothing more to me than a piece of ass to use before you make me a lot of money. That’s it. I’ve never pretended otherwise. If you have, you do whatever you need to do to get through this, but—” He stands and towers over me.
I take one more step back, but he reaches out and snatches me toward him by my neck, squeezing tight with his fingers. “If you ever hit me again, it will be the last thing you do. Auction or not, I will end you.”