by Liz K. Lorde
I step into the water as steam fills the room and before I can catch myself, I moan.
Fuck, I needed this.
Chapter 9
Leo
Watching Kristen go up the stairs and seeing how her ass moves with each step reminds me of everything that I wanted to do to her earlier…
Then, that thought’s accompanied by another crashing wave of guilt as the bathroom door slams shut, and I hear the shower start running.
Kristen is naked, right now, in my shower, and I have to sit down here like some chump and wait for her to be done. She’s hot, and she fucking knows it.
And in a way, she’s mine. I paid enough money for her, anyway.
I bet she was walking up the stairs slowly only purpose, just to tease me and show me what I’m missing out on—showing me what I could have had if I hadn’t roofied and kidnapped her for Lawson.
Once I hear the water running, I shake my head and turn toward the kitchen.
The way Kristen is making me ache for her is an ache that can only be soothed by a strong drink.
From the liquor cabinet, I take out a decanter of bourbon and pour myself a fifth. After dealing with Kristen, I’ll need more, but let’s at least pretend that I’m functioning just fine after losing two million dollars.
Which is another reason I should try to drink this slowly—this is the kind of bourbon I’d pour if Lawson ever came around to my house.
It’s expensive, and it tastes like it. I’m not just talking about rich or decadent. It just might be the closest I’ll ever come to licking a bar of solid gold.
My grip tightens around the glass, and I look out over the garden once again. Every time I think back over today’s events, I can’t get the image of Lawson’s face out of my mind. The way he looked at me when I said I’d put down two million.
He knew.
He knew that that was all the money I had, and that it was enough to buy my freedom.
I bet he’s laughing at me right now, chuckling away to himself and counting my money thinking that I’m such a dick head for throwing away my chance of a new life over some mouthy socialite with no concept of her own dumb ideas.
If I was paranoid, I might even think that Oberon planned this whole thing. I might be his right hand man, but I’m not the only one who he asks to take girls for auction. I bet he even knew that I’d find a soft spot for Kristen.
I’d believe it, if he turned and told me he was that much of an asshole.
At the end of my garden, birds flit in and out of the hedges, squabbling among each other and beating their tiny wings just to stay in the air. They don’t have to worry about money or nonconsensual prostitution of innocent girls. They can come and go from my garden as they please—without having to buy their freedom or fear some bald eagle coming along and dragging them back in.
I was going to move when I got out of this life…buy a whole new house, somewhere far from here. But I guess I’m stuck in this gilded cage until I somehow pull another two million dollars out of my ass.
When my phone rings, I know who it is before I even pull it out of my pocket. For a moment, I contemplate letting it go to voicemail. But, once again, I don’t have a choice.
I look down at the screen, and there he is.
Laughing at me.
I hold the phone to my ear, and, for a moment, I hear music in the background—some pop remix that sounds like the music they usually play in the Pussycat Lounge. No doubt after earning big, Lawson’s already stuffing my two million dollars down his favorite stripper’s g-string.
“Hello, Lawson.”
“Leo! How’s it going breaking in your new toy?” he asks but doesn’t give me time to reply. “I bet you’ve got her lips wrapped around your cock as we speak.”
As soon as he puts the image of Kristen on her knees, sucking my cock, I can feel myself getting hard again.
She’d look so pretty, looking up at me through her eyelashes as she tries to fit all of me in her mouth. I’d hold her hair, slowly pushing her in further and further until I hit the back of her throat.
I can practically feel her tongue on the underside of my dick, stroking the veins as she draws back before kissing the tip—
“Not quite sir,” I say with a forced chuckle. “She’s resting. Turns out I’m too much for her.”
Oberon laughs down the phone in return, and I want to gag.
“Surprising, given what I’ve heard people say about her. I trust those handcuffs found some use.”
“Of course. It’s so much fun to tie them down and watch them writhe.”
It’s what he wants to hear, and it’s the way I’ve heard other men talk about the girls they buy. I almost hate myself for doing it, but like I told Kristen earlier, I really do need to keep my face.
I can picture her handcuffed to the bedframe, and then I see her, for a second, handcuffed to that pipe in the warehouse all over again. My cock twitches as I imagine spreading her legs—since she can’t stop me—and teasing her with the tip of my dick as she’s practically dripping onto the floor.
Lawson would catch us fucking, and he’d be furious, but her tight cunt around my dick would have made that two million feel like twenty-five cents…
But I didn’t, because I shouldn’t have.
I’m not fucking evil. I wasn’t about to fuck her in front of a crowd of strangers and make her come against her will.
Thankfully, Lawson’s voice brings me back to reality again.
“But it’s good if you’ve tired her out. Means that you’ll be free for me later.”
“What’s happening later?”
“I’ve got a job for you,” Oberon says, though he remains vague about it. “You in?”
I was supposed to be able to say no. I was supposed to be able to get out from this life, and now Kristen’s sucked me back into it.
My pause as I reflect on my shitty decision-making is heavy, and eventually Lawson takes it upon himself to break it.
“Leo? You still there? I know you’ve been fucking your brains out, but don’t keep me waiting.”
“I’ll take it.” I sigh. “What’re the details?”
“Good.” Lawson’s practically grinning down the phone, the bastard. “I need you to be at the docks at midnight. I hope you can tear yourself away from her long enough.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I bet you will be. I don’t think you can afford to fuck this up for me, can you?”
I don’t get a chance to answer as Oberon hangs up the call, leaving me in silence once again. I throw my head back and drink the rest of my bourbon before walking around to where I had left the decanter on the island and pouring myself another glass.
I wish I’d never heard of fucking Kristen Jones.
I wish I’d never met her eyes across the room nor held her in my arms as the roofie transformed her from cocky party girl to innocent victim.
I might have stuck my neck on the line to buy her, but I can tell she’s still ungrateful for my help. I bet she was expecting some poor stupid asshole to take pity on her and let her off lightly.
I ought to show her what could have happened to her.
I ought to go upstairs right now and bend her over. She might have locked the bathroom door, but when have I ever let a locked door stand between me and what I want?
There’s no doubt about it—I want her.
I want to push her down on her knees and watch her lavish me and suck my cock and struggle to fit it all in her mouth while needing two hands to jerk me off.
I’d pin her down on the bed—maybe even bring out the handcuffs that Lawson gave me. I’d pin her down so that she couldn’t fight. And I’d tease her…make her want me.
I’d play with her breasts and pinch her nipples. I’d spank her until her ass is red, and I’d listen to her whimper each time my hand found her skin.
My fingers would pinch her clit and stroke at her wet folds, and as I eat her out I’d fill her with my fingers and stro
ke at her g-spot. Kristen would buck her hips and beg for me to let her come, but I wouldn’t let her.
Over and over again, I’d bring her to the edge, and then let her suffer as I don’t let her climax.
And, when I finally let her have my cock, she’ll be so fucking grateful—
I’m brought back to reality when I hear a noise from upstairs. I’m already on my feet and heading for the bathroom when I hear Kristen scream.
Chapter 10
Kristen
Leo is a fucking asshole and a shit stain of a human being. First, he roofies me, then he tries to fucking sell me at some flesh auction, and then the man fucking buys me.
He fucking bought me.
I’m not a fucking commodity that can be fucking purchased and used, goddammit! So why, for the love of God, can I not stop thinking about him?
Or stop wanting him?
“Ugh,” I groan as I close my eyes and let the shower beat down upon my face.
The hot water feels soothing and relaxing, and it certainly helps the pain in my shoulders. But it does abso-fucking-lutely nothing to deter these thoughts racing through my mind. If anything, it makes it worse.
I don’t even realize that my fingers are tweaking at my pert nipples until a gentle moan spills from my lips. Hastily, I slide my fingers through my hair and let out a heavy sigh.
Stop it, Kristen! You shouldn’t be thinking about this asshole. You shouldn’t want him…
But I do. Evidently, assholes really do turn me on.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about him, and what he would do to me—if he was just a tad bit less noble than he is—but I am.
My hands move from my hair and down over my hardened nipples again. Another moan slips past my lips as my fingers pull more firmly at my pert buds—just as if Leo’s the one doing it.
I let my other hand slide further down my body and over my taut stomach until I reach my clit. I’m wet as fuck…and it isn’t because of the shower.
My imagination runs away from me, and I don’t bother to stop it this time. This time I relish it.
Immediately, my mind goes back to hanging in that dark room. Leo cut away my clothing so that I’m only in my heels and he traces his fingers over my naked body as if molding me from clay.
From the shadows, we are watched by a horde of faceless men who observe him caressing me with reckless abandon, as if he already owned me before they arrived.
The length of my finger slides against the tip of my clit, and I lean back against the cool tile of the shower’s wall. The sudden cold against my skin sends a shiver down my spine that only enhances the tender massaging of my clit.
I picture Leo’s knee between my thighs, forcing them apart so that he can move his hand between them and rub my clit with this thumb, his fingers dipping inside me. I can almost hear the smiles on the faceless men as I moan at Leo’s touch. It’s exhilarating, and oh-so-wrong, but I don’t care—it’s fucking hot.
A warm flush surges through my body at the thought, and I mirror it by sliding my own finger in between the folds of my lips and inside me. The sensation has me moaning—huskier and louder than before.
The thought of Leo’s fingers filling me as his lips hungrily nip and bite at my neck makes my stomach clench with excitement. I imagine him taunting me as his fingers delve deeper inside…exploring me as I fight fruitlessly against him.
“Not so sassy now, are you? Where’s that rapier-like wit now, Miss Jones?” Imaginary Leo mocks.
But I don’t answer him. I try to wiggle free, though it only lets him thrust his fingers in deeper—making me moan louder as he does so.
I bite down on my lip as my fingers move faster—and deeper—to stifle the loud moans pouring out of me. Only, it’s not working.
Imaginary Leo unfastens his pants next and frees his gloriously thick cock for me to see. He pushes the head of it against my swollen clit so menacingly that I whimper.
I shouldn’t, but I want it so badly…both myself and the imaginary version.
Slowly…teasingly, he fills me with inch by marvelous fucking inch with his cock. My own fingers move faster, and harder.
“Is this what you wanted, Kristen? To have me take you in front of all these people?” he coos menacingly.
My knees begin to shake, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat as my breath hitches.
I throw out my hand in some futile attempt to grab the wet surface of the shower wall. My fingers try desperately to cling to it to no avail as I throw my head back and let out a crying scream while I succumb to my own machinations.
I see bright lights—stars in my eyes—as the world only just begins to regain focus, and then the bathroom door is nearly shattered from its hinges.
The curtains of the shower are thrown back while I’m in mid-gasp, and I see Leo looking frantic and worried, almost as if he’s ready to commit murder…to save me.
And save me he does.
My knees buckle—still faint from the overwhelming orgasm I’ve just had—and I begin to slip and fall forward.
Instinctively, I reach out to grab the shower curtains to stop myself from falling, but they only join me on my descent toward the ground. Instead, it’s Leo’s quick reflexes and strong, sexy arms that save me from my fall.
Once I feel his body holding mine, I let go of the torn curtains and throw my arms around his neck.
My breathing is rapid and panicked—seeing as I almost busted my head open—but it’s not only because of my near accident. No, the look in his fiery, intense, dark eyes is doing more than their fair share of contributing to the cause.
“You okay?”
“Mm? Ye…yes. I’m okay,” I manage. “Though it wouldn’t kill you to have a mat or something so that people don’t fall and crack their heads open.”
“Well, had I known you were planning on playing with yourself in my shower, I would have bought some adhesive ducks or something for your feet.”
My eyes immediately go wide like a dear in headlights. I can’t fucking believe that he caught me.
His lips begin to turn upward into a knowing smirk that’s sexy and infuriating at the same time.
“I was doing no such thing,” I blurt out, obviously lying through my teeth. My lie only makes his smirk worse.
“Uh-huh. You were thinking about me, weren’t you?”
I want to stand up and push him away. I want to slap him for even daring to say such a thing—regardless of how true it is—and for getting me into this situation in the first place.
But I don’t.
I remain perfectly content against his muscled frame as he holds me, and the water beats down on us like heavy rain.
“Oh, get over yourself. Even if I had been getting myself off…which I wasn’t. But if I had, you’d be the last fucking person on the planet that I’d be thinking about. I’d be thinking about a real man like Henry Cavill or Aiden Turner. Not some asshole like you.”
Leo laughs in my face, and I can smell the Kentucky bourbon on his breath. It’s so strong that I can almost taste it, and part of me wants to taste it…on his tongue.
“Oh, come on, Kristen. Just admit it. You were thinking about me while playing with your pussy,” he teasingly mocks as his eyes twinkle with mischievous intent.
“I was doing no such fucking thi—”
That’s all I get out of my defiant statement before I feel his lips crashing against mine like a torrential downpour.
I should push him away—that’s what a rational person would probably do in this situation—but, God help me, I kiss him back with just as much force and intensity.
And, fuck, does that bourbon ever taste good on his lips.
Chapter 11
Leo
I have no idea what possessed me to kiss her.
Maybe because I’ve wanted her since the moment I laid eyes on her. Or perhaps, it has to do with her being wet and naked in my arms.
Regardless of the reason, it’s happened…and, fuck, does s
he ever taste good. It makes me wonder if the rest of her tastes just as good, too.
I try to tell myself that now isn’t the time to indulge and find out, but my body refuses to listen to my mind. And Kristen’s wandering hands aren’t helping matters either. Her grip around my cock through my pants is making me growl hungrily for more.
I set the blonde down on her feet and push her up against the wall of the shower. My hands begin to undo the buttons of my shirt as her hands begin working on my pants.
There’re no words between us, and our longing gazes never falter—it almost feels as though we don’t dare blink.
My wet shirt and pants fall to the shower in a wet heap as Kristen lowers herself before me. She wraps both of her hands around my thick cock and bites down on her bottom lip as if contemplating if it will fit. Much to my delight, she takes the velvety head and pops it into her wet, hot mouth.
With one hand, she cups my balls and massages them, as her other hand moves in between her thighs to play with her clit. Her own stimulation makes her hum and moan around my cock and makes it twitch against the back of her throat.
I grab a fistful of her wet, blonde locks with one hand as I use the other to lean against the shower wall.
Kristen’s head bobs along the length of my cock as her tongue works expertly along the underside. Every flick and lick of her tongue is accompanied by a gentle, yet firm squeeze of my balls that forces a growl from my core and has me tugging on the fistful of her hair in my grasp. Every tug I make makes her suck harder on my head and shaft.
The two million I just dropped on her is all worth it, just for this moment here and now.
I’ve gotten head from a lot of women over the years, but none were ever able to instinctively hit every spot that drives shivers down my spine nor make my knees weak enough that they threaten to buckle.
And the way she looks up at me as she teases me with a gentle flick of her tongue is maddeningly erotic and sexy.
I try, futilely, to tell myself that this needs to stop here and now before things progress, but then Kristen slides her tongue up and down the length of my shaft and all rationale goes out the window. My hand clenches against the tile just as my stomach clenches, too. A low, deep growl comes up from the depths of my core through clenched teeth.