Poodle

by K. L. Savage

  “Yes,” I agree, even if I know I’m going to fail this challenge. I hate it when I can’t touch him.

  He yanks off his shirt. The wounds on his chest are still healing, pink and puckered. They will scar, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His chest was so flawless before, and these scars are going to be the reminder of what happens when he isn’t honest.

  Still, he has the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.

  He slides down his gym shorts, and his cock bobs free, slapping against his stomach. The blue hue of the vein grabs my attention, and my tongue wants another taste of him. His bulging biceps flex when he reaches up and tugs the band out of his hair. I watch the lovely, shiny trusses fall down his shoulders, almost covering his pecs. I stare at the sculpture in front of me.

  “You see something you like, sunflower?”

  I nod. I want to reach out and touch the miles of muscle that creates a man so strong.

  “Hands to yourself,” he reminds me, then pushes my knees apart. “Hmm,” he says as if he tastes something delicious. Without looking, he reaches into the nightstand next to the bed and pulls out a black box that I’ve never seen before. It’s a matte finish, and the box looks smooth and sturdy.

  Poodle lays it on the nightstand and curls over me, his body close to mine, but his face is too far away for me to kiss. “You’re going to love your gift,” he says, trailing his fingers one by one down the canvas of my body until he’s swirling his index fingers around my clit. “You’re going to look so fucking hot. But first”—he lifts his palm in the air—“I need to get you wet.”

  I’m already wet. That much I know.

  He spanks my pussy, and the sting causes my clit to catch fire. I cry out and do the one thing I’m not suppose to do. My fingers dig into his forearms, and the hair on his arms tickle my knuckles.

  He tsks, clearly disappointed for my lack of self-control. Poodle brings his hand up and spanks my clit again, and again, and again. I cry out, body convulsing, and my sheath hurts, burns, and stings like a wildfire has taken over my body. “You like this, don’t you? Look how wet you are. You’re glistening.”

  “James, I want you.”

  He slaps my clit again and growls, “You’ll get me when I say you will.”

  I can hardly take it. I fist the sheets in my hands, twist and turn to do everything I can not to touch him. He picks up the black box from the nightstand and places it on my stomach, using me as a table to open the gift he says is for me, but I have a feeling it will be more for him.

  I can’t tell what it is. I lift my head and still can’t get a good view. Poodle reaches in and takes out the wide oval plug. It’s also black. It looks … big.

  “What is that?” I ask as he admires it, holding it up in the air. He presses a button and the damn black plug vibrates, and it hits me when he gives me an evil eye, that plug is going inside me.

  “It’s a butt plug. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was going to have your ass too, but I’m not going to just take it. We have to start with smaller size plugs and work our way up until you’re ready to take me. Do you want that?”

  “I want anything you want,” I say.

  He slides the plug through my wet folds and turns on the vibration. “You’re shining it up already,” he says with awe, then holds it down on my clit for a few seconds. It has my legs shaking and my throat dry and raw from moaning so loud.

  “James, if you keep going, I’m going to come.”

  “I know. I need you to. I need to get you nice and wet because we’re going to use your sweet honey to coat this before I slide it into your ass. I can’t wait to see it while I fuck you.”

  I concentrate on the vein in his arm while he holds the plug against my pussy. Poodle moves his hand up and down my slit. He focuses on my bundle of nerves and moves down to the hole where his cock stretches me. He glides the plug to my bundle of nerves again, and my back arches off the bed, toes curled, and his name is on my lips as I come. Violent wracks bend me, break me, and by the time I’m coming down from my high, he’s gathering my legs together and rocking me back until each leg is touching my ear.

  My ass is on full display. I’m embarrassed, turned on, and a little nervous.

  “Look at you,” he praises, gently circling the plug around my forbidden hole. He doesn’t press in, he doesn’t force it inside; he lets me get used to the feeling of the plug about to breach me. He press the tip in, then out, and then he rolls it around the puckered skin before pressing the tip in and out. “You want it, don’t you?”

  Instead of saying a word, I press my ass against the plug, and the ring pops around the device until my hole swallows the entire thing. “How does that feel?” he asks, pressing the button that makes it vibrate.

  I gasp and squirm. “Full,” I moan as he tugs the plug, pulling it in and pushing it out.

  “You aren’t full,” he says, lowering himself by bending his elbows and holding his weight up on his arms. He comes dangerously close to my mouth, but he doesn’t touch my lips and a dark graveled chuckle escapes him, “Yet.”

  I’m about to tell him to put me out of my misery, when he fucks his cock inside my aching pussy. I groan so loud my voices gives out, and a silence ties my tongue. He was right. I wasn’t full before.

  His cock rubs against the plug; the pressure of him and the foreign toy in my ass is almost too much.

  Almost.

  It’s a delicious craving, a dark chocolate so bitter, but once you get the taste for it, you want more.

  “James.” I clutch on to him as he slams into me, keeping my legs bent near my head. I can see his cock pumping in and out, wet and slippery from how wet he makes me. “Oh God!” I hold onto his shoulders as he picks up the pace, and his heavy, cum-swollen sack slaps against the plug. The force of his large orbs swinging causes the device to turn on, adding a vibration that resonates throughout my belly.

  “Oh,” he trembles. “That feels so fucking good.” His blunt fingernails dig into the flesh of my tits until the grip makes me whimper with pain.

  Pain is good.

  The pain he brings makes me feel alive.

  I know it isn’t about hurting me. It’s about giving me pleasure.

  The two sides of this man are an affliction, and I balance on the fine line of light and dark. It’s a risk more people should take because having both good and bad is constantly rewarding.

  “I’m going to come,” I warn him, and my muscles clench around the plug and his cock at the same time.

  “No.” He wraps those powerful hands around my throat and pulls my heat forward until we’re cheek to cheek. “You come when I come.”

  “James, I can’t. I can’t wait,” I plead, hoping he’ll take mercy on me.

  “Too fucking bad,” he sneers, squeezing my throat a little tighter. It’s even harder not to come when he does that. “You will milk my cock when I say. Do you understand?”

  I nod. The tilt of my head causes his fingers to push deeper into my jugular. He bends down and sucks a nipple into my mouth, biting them until I have tears in my eyes. They sting. It hurts. I can’t take it.

  I want more.

  I need more.

  “Need to get you some nipple clamps, don’t I? Your pretty tits love the attention.” He glorifies how swollen and red my tight buds are, and with how they poke straight toward him, they’re begging for his punishing mouth.

  He pulls out of me, and I’ve never felt so empty in my life. The plug is still in my ass, but the pressure is better when his cock is inside me. Poodle flops onto his back and grips the base of his cock that is slick with my white cream. I throw my leg over his lap and stuff myself in one push. His cock is deeper this way, the plug pushes deeper from pressing against his sack, and we moan in unison into the room.

  “You feel so good.” His hands drift all over my body, my ass, my belly, until his fingers stretch my nipples with hard tugs. They hurt from his biting, and I cry out and start to rock my hips. He controls me. My nipp
les are reins, and the harder he pinches, the faster I move my hips, bucking as if I’m wild and untamed. My orgasm quickly builds from the tips of my toes to the hair follicles on my head, and my body kindles like crackling wood trying to start a fire. “Don’t you dare,” he warns.

  Tears leak from the corners of my eyes from not being able to let go. My pussy hurts, my insides are knotted, and I need to come. I scratch red lines down his chest, breaking the skin until he bleeds and sneers, thrusting up to drive harder and deeper in my cunt.

  “Whose pussy is this?” He slaps my ass, and the sting feeds the fire in me.

  “Yours,” I say immediately. “Only yours.”

  He slaps my other cheek, adding more fuel to the explosion, ready to cause my internal destruction. It’s more than a spanking—it’s a stamp. His stamp on my body, to prove he owns me in ways that no one else can.

  But I hope he isn’t forgetting—he’s mine too.

  I reach behind me and grab his weighted sack and squeeze like I would a stress ball.

  “Fuck! Yes! Oh, fuck yeah, sunflower. Tug them,” he groans and I pull, harder than I should, and he thrusts into me, nearly sending me flying off his cock.

  I keep my firm grip and lean my head down, brushing my abused nipples against his chest as I lick my tongue over his lips to taste the sweat that’s gathered. “Don’t forget whose cock this is, James.”

  His green eyes swirl with hunger from my claim, my possessiveness.

  “Tell me,” I say, twisting his sack to the left which causes him to throw his head back, and the tendons in his neck distend.

  “Yours, sunflower. My cock is yours.” “Only mine.”

  “Fuck yes.” He sits up and takes my lips in a bruising kiss. Our tongues duel and teeth clank. It’s clumsy with no synchronization, but it adds the match to the dynamite preparing to go off. “I’m going to come,” he finally says, and his hand drops to the plug in my ass and tugs.

  I explode.

  Stars dance in my vision, my soul leaves my fucking body, and my vision is black. I’m taken to another universe, floating into space as my body spasms, and euphoria becomes my new plane of existence. I loosen the grip on his orbs but, keep my hands there as he comes, filling me to the brim. I can feel each spasm as his balls draw up to his body and release his seed inside me.

  My pussy drinks him up, thirsty like a bitch in heat, and all I want to do is see the pleasure on his face minute after minute. I never want to leave this bed until there is nothing left in his orbs. I want to wring in dry.

  Every ounce of him is mine.

  I collapse on top of him and barely feel Poodle reach behind me to pull out the plug. My body is numb, and I can still feel the vibrations in my abdomen that the plug left behind.

  “Holy shit,” he pants. His chest is sweaty against my cheek, but I’m too tired to care. “It gets better every time.”

  If sex gets better after this, fucking Poodle just might kill me.

  What a way to go.

  25

  POODLE

  “We found Jared,” Reaper says while I’m petting Lady’s belly on the couch. She’s gotten so fucking big, and Yeti won’t leave her side. I don’t think dog’s mate for life, but I’m wondering if Yeti and Lady are a different story.

  My hand pauses mid-stroke, and Lady looks at me and narrows her eyes the best she can. I’m not sure what I expect to feel. I should feel happy, but I don’t feel anything. I’m numb on the inside because I don’t want to get my hopes up. I go back to stroking Lady’s belly and wonder if all ten puppies can feel my hand and if they feel relaxed too. Ten puppies. When I took Lady to the vet to make sure her and the babies were healthy, the vet told me how many puppies she was carrying. I was worried ten pups would be too much for her, but the vet reassured me that she’d be fine.

  I want to strangle Yeti for putting Lady in this position. He’s a damn beast.

  “Did you hear me?” Reaper repeats, and Bullseye and Tool surround him as all three of them stare down at me. Their arms are crossed, looking all big and bad, and then Skirt rolls up beside them with Braveheart—Tim. The scrawny bastard crosses his arms and does his best to look tough, but he can’t help his size. Don’t let the small frame fool you; he can fight better than a ninja.

  “I heard you,” I say, staring down at Lady. My voice is calm, waiting for the killer to emerge, but he isn’t there. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m just tired. I haven’t given up on finding Ellie, but I’ve come to terms with the chances of finding her alive.

  There aren’t any chances.

  Yeti licks Lady’s face, and I swear she smiles like a love drunk fool.

  “You have nothing to say?” he asks. “We finally have Hector’s righthand man, and you have nothing to say?”

  I lift my eyes up to look at him, and I sigh. “I don’t know what to say? I’m happy, yes, but I just don’t have it in me to jump for joy and hope he leads me to Ellie, only to be disappointed again.”

  Badge tosses a piece of paper in front of me with a few pictures that look like they were caught on a traffic camera. “He’s in Oklahoma. I have a feeling if he’s there, so is Hector.”

  “Hector was in Nebraska,” I remind him. “That’s what Roscoe said.”

  “Everyone has a home base. This is it, Poodle. This is what you’ve been waiting for,” Badge says, bending his knees to squat down and he relaxes his elbows on each thigh. “This is the break. I know you’re tired, man. I can’t imagine, but dig a little deeper. We are there. This is it. You want to know about your little girl? This is our guy. Roscoe was just a minion, someone at the body of the food chain.”

  I swallow, and my pulse palpitates in every extremity.

  “He won’t stay above ground long. I got lucky that his face came across the database as I searched. Men like him know not to be in the public eye for long. If we go, we need to go now. Today. And hope by the time we get there, they haven’t moved.”

  “Okay,” I agree, and Badge stands up at the same time I do. “Okay.” Hope flares in my chest, and excitement engulfs the numbness, overpowering the negative emotion. “This could lead me to my daughter.” We had no proof of life, no proof of death. Ellie Winston has been missing for thirteen years, and even though there’s no sign of death, she is presumed dead. It’s why the cops closed the case. It went cold.

  But I feel it. A father knows, and my daughter isn’t dead.

  “When do we leave?” I ask, ready to leave right now at this very moment.

  “Sunset. We have a few hours. A lot of us are going. Me, you, Tongue, Tool, Knives, Braveheart—”

  “I’m going?” Tim interrupts, and Reaper hides a grin with his hand.

  “You can strangle men three times your sizes with your legs. Bet your ass you’re going,” Reaper grunts.

  Tim has taken the Braveheart nickname seriously. Every day he has worn blue paint on his face—one streak under each eye. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to get patched in. Tank, on the other hand, we all agreed he needs more time. We think he’s too delicate and might be better off as a hang-around if things don’t change.

  “Tank is staying, and so is Slingshot, to keep an eye on the girls. Melissa is coming,” Reaper informs.

  “What? No. She can’t!”

  “She deserves to face the man who took her when she was a baby, just like Ellie.”

  “No, I won’t allow it,” I say in defiance.

  “Last time I checked, it wasn’t up to you.” Reaper leaves no room for discussion as he turns around and walks away, leaving me with more than worry.

  Fear.

  A beep on Badge’s phone interrupts the tension, and when he pulls his phone out, his eyebrows pinch together. “Reaper, change of plans.”

  “What?” Reaper comes thumping back to the main room and takes Badge’s phone. “What’s this?”

  “That’s Jared’s phone. I put a tracker on it since he’s always moving. He doesn’t keep the same phone for long. H
e has a habit of changing numbers every few weeks.”

  “It says he’s here. In Vegas,” Reaper states. “You know what this means.”

  “He’s come to us,” Badge says. “Roscoe was right. Hector wants Melissa.”

  “How did he find her?” I ask, trying to figure out how he can go from selling her in Jersey to tracking her across the country.

  “Well, with what happened in Jersey, maybe he didn’t leave after he sold her. Maybe he stuck around to see what was going to happen. Seems like he views her as property, so if it didn’t work out with the Jersey Chapter, maybe he wants her back to sell her again? Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he had eyes on her this entire time. I don’t know. What I do know is if he’s here, Hector is here, and if Hector is here, so is her sister, and so are the answers you’re looking for.”

  I fall onto the couch and rub a hand down my face. How is this happening so quick? How did I go from years of hunting and killing, to the opportunity falling at the doorstep? Granted, a lot of people had to die to get this information, but still, now I feel like it’s all happening so fast.

  “We need the Poodle who killed,” Reaper says. “We need the Poodle who hid his bloodshed from us. Can you be that?”

  “I’ll be anything if it means bringing Ellie home.” My fingers twitch to wrap around the dagger, to stab Hector with it twenty times. I’ll bet anything he’s the man who killed Holly.

  The killer inside me wakes up from his slumber and pushes underneath my skin to come out and play. I want justice. I want peace. I want to taste his pain and relish in the blood that I’m going to spill from him.

  “We need to get ready,” Reaper says. “And we need to figure out where they’re going to stay and then infiltrate. I’m not wasting another second; not when Melissa’s life is in danger, and her sister’s. Who knows what that poor girl has gone through.”

  “I’ll track him,” Badge says. “It looks like they’re staying on the outskirts. They’re nowhere near the strip. Dot isn’t moving either. So glad I splurged on that facial recognition software, or we wouldn’t have been able to find Jared.”