by Portia Moore
I hate what I did back there. I’ve done some bad shit in my life—or at least I thought I had—but I’ve never tortured a guy before. I’ve never heard someone screaming, begging for me to stop, and kept going anyway. It goes against everything I want to be as a man, but I know it’s part of the job. I knew that when I got into it—but I was hoping it would be a very small part, if ever. Now I’m becoming more and more concerned that it might be a bigger part than I could have imagined.
That guy’s going to end up dead. They’re killing him right now, if they haven’t already. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and I rapidly try to get my thoughts under some kind of control before Sonya notices. He was a criminal, I remind myself. He would have killed Sonya earlier today for the drugs and money at the bar, maybe done worse things than that to her. He’s probably tortured and killed his fair share himself and would’ve kept doing it. Maybe you saved people by going along with what they wanted.
It helps a little, but not enough. I still feel sick, but I’m doing a good job of hiding it because Sonya seems oblivious to my mood. In fact, she looks more relaxed and happier than she has all night, humming softly under her breath as she turns up the radio and presses the button to put the top down on the car. It’s a good distraction for me—I’m driving a foreign sports car with the top down and a gorgeous woman at my side. This is a night to remember—unfortunately, in more ways than one.
Sonya picks up her phone again, tapping something out on the screen with one manicured nail, and then she glances over at me with a mischievous smile. “You did well tonight, Chase. I’ve got a surprise for you when we get home.”
“Home?” I laugh. “I know you don’t want to go back to my place.” The quip falls out of my mouth without thinking about it, and I realize that bantering with her is too easy. Does it mean that I’m good at this job, that I can flirt with the woman who just watched while I shoved a knife into a man’s thigh, or does it mean that on some level, I’m a sociopath too?
“We’re not going back to your place,” Sonya says, her voice turning into a purr as she slides her hand up my thigh.
My dick throbs, and I bite my lower lip, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the road.
“You must need to let off a little steam,” she says, her voice silky as her hand slides over the front of my slacks, and I hear her soft moan as she feels me there, rock-hard against her palm. I grip the steering wheel as she reaches for my zipper. “You did an impeccable job tonight,” she murmurs, her fingers toying with it. “You deserve a reward.”
My mouth is as dry as paper. In a split second, she tugs my zipper down and slides me out of my slacks, her perfectly manicured hand wrapping around my dick as she starts to stroke it.
Thank god we’re on the open highway because it’s almost impossible for me to concentrate on driving. I’m in a Ferrari, getting a handjob, I think disbelievingly. I half expect her to stop any second and tell me that she was just teasing me. It would fit with her take-no-prisoners attitude, and my balls ache at the thought. Still, she keeps going, touching me with just the right speed to keep me at the boiling point without letting me go over the edge.
“You know, it’s important for the people I work with to be good under pressure,” she whispers in my ear as she leans forward, her hand slowing down a bit, and laughs softly as she runs her fingers over me. “We’re almost there,” she says then, letting go and leaning back. I bite back a groan, but she grins at me with an almost predatory expression. “Don’t worry, we’re not done.”
I manage to zip myself back up with one hand as I pull into the parking garage that the navigation directed us to, my dick still rock-hard and aching, and I look over at her as I pull into a parking spot.
She opens the door herself, sliding out and glancing over her shoulder at me. “Coming upstairs?” she asks easily.
I know I don’t have a choice. But at this particular moment, hard as hell and still fighting off the tangle of emotions from tonight’s experience, I’m not sure if I would choose differently. All I want is to forget all of it for a little while. Even though I know I should be on my guard at all times around Sonya, right now, all I can think is that for a few blissful seconds when I come inside of her, all I’ll feel is pleasure instead of confusion.
So without another word, I follow her towards the elevator.
11
Zach
Sonya’s apartment is stunning and expensive-looking, as I’d expected. It’s all very modern--gleaming floors and white walls covered with modern art, lacquered tables adorned with sculptures. She takes my hand and leads me down a white plush-carpeted hallway into a bedroom with a king-sized bed. Her high heels sink into the carpet as she steps inside. She kicks them off, turning towards me as I shut the door behind us.
None of this is particularly shocking. What does catch me off guard, surprising me into stunned silence, is the woman standing at the foot of Sonya’s bed.
Like Sonya, she’s astoundingly beautiful, but in a different sort of way. Part of Sonya’s beauty comes from not just her physical attractiveness, but her charisma, her power, the way she keeps everyone around her slightly off-balance, hoping for her favor and unsure if they’ll get it. She’s a lioness among gazelles, and I have to admit that it’s fucking hot, even if I know better than to be enamored by it.
The woman at the foot of the bed is beautiful in every physical way possible, from her perfect, creamy pale skin against the black lace of the bra and panties that she’s standing in, to her long legs in black thigh-highs and heels, to her gorgeous red curls cascading around her face, framing her green eyes and pouting lips. But every line of her body screams submission. If Sonya is a predator, this woman is prey.
Sonya walks to the side of the bed, reaching up to slide the zipper of her dress down. “Take care of him,” she tells the woman, flashing me a smile after she says it. “This is going to be a night you’ll never forget, Chase.”
There’s no turning back now. If this is a test, she wants to take it all the way to the conclusion. My mind is screaming at me that this is wrong, but I also know that I have very little choice. Even if Sonya took my refusal well—which I doubt—it would immediately end any chance I have of getting into the inner circle. Just like this afternoon in her office—which feels as if it were days ago now, with everything that’s happened—I have to play along and do my best to enjoy the ride.
The redhead sways towards me, her perfect curves making my mouth water despite myself. “I’m Brigit,” she says sweetly, reaching out to run her hands down my chest. “You’re Chase?”
I nod, unable to speak as she sinks to her knees. Her nails are long and pointed, painted a pale shade of pink, and she drags my zipper down, reaching into my slacks with a practiced movement that tells me this isn’t her first time doing something like this. She has my cock out in an instant, hard and throbbing in her hand, and when she slides her pouting lips over the head of it, I can’t help but moan aloud.
“She’s very good, isn’t she?” Sonya smiles, stepping out of her dress. She’s in black lace too, and as she steps forward to sit on the bench at the foot of the bed, I can’t help but think that this was calculated—two women in black lace, one pale and one dark. But there’s no question who is in control.
I groan as Brigit’s mouth slips down to the base of my dick, her tongue running up and down the shaft as she sucks harder, her other hand slipping between my legs. She’s amazing at this, and I’m having a hard time wanting to be anywhere else right now. No one told me that I’d have a chance at being in a luxury apartment with two women who could be supermodels half-naked and ready to fuck me in god knows how many ways. I’m beginning to really like my job.
Sonya’s hand slips inside of her panties, her fingers visibly moving as she touches herself slowly, and then faster, her other hand resting on the inside of her thigh. “Can you come more than once in a night, Chase?” she asks casually as if she were asking me what I wanted for breakfast.
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“I’ve been known to.” I glance over at her with a sly smile. “I sure as hell won’t have a problem tonight.”
“Good.” She leans back further, her long, gorgeous legs spreading wide as she slides her other hand up her thigh, pushing her panties aside so that she can finger herself. Watching this powerful, dominating woman slide two fingers inside of herself as I get my cock sucked inches away makes me feel as if I might come way too soon, in fact. “Then Brigit, make sure you take every drop of what he has for you in your mouth or wherever else he might want it. But Chase?”
“Yes?” I manage to choke out, as Brigit cups my balls in the same second that she swirls her tongue beneath the head of my dick.
“Don’t come until I have at least once.”
The next few minutes are the worst torture and the best pleasure I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m ready to come now, my cock harder than it’s been since I was a teenager and my balls aching, but Sonya seems happy to take her time, enjoying the show. Watching her fingering herself in front of me has me at the boiling point, and when she pauses for a moment, I think I might scream with frustration.
“Take your clothes off, Chase. I haven’t seen you naked yet, and I want that view while I come.”
Once again, I don’t doubt that she wants to see me naked. I try to stay humble, but I make a point of staying fit and muscular. I know that while I might be way beneath Sonya when it comes to money and power, she’s not punching above her weight in terms of looks. But I also know that this is about control. She wants me to know my place—that she can tell me to do anything. That I’m hers to command.
I won’t be forever, I think as I unbutton my shirt, my fingers clumsier than usual because Brigit is still sucking me as if her life depends on it, her lipstick worn off now, lips puffy from her effort. I toss my shirt aside, and I can see the appreciative look on Sonya’s face as I start to undo my belt.
Taking my slacks and shoes off means stepping away from Brigit for a moment, and it buys me precious seconds to stave off my oncoming orgasm. My cock jerks in the air as I try to undress as gracefully as possible, throbbing painfully with the need to come. I’m aching so badly that I groan with relief when I move back towards Brigit, completely naked now, and I feel her hot mouth envelop me again.
“You do not disappoint in any way, Chase West,” Sonya murmurs, her eyes roving over me. “I can’t wait to have that thick—cock—oh god!”
She throws her head back as her hips arch up into her hand, moaning aloud with sheer pleasure as her body starts to shake. In that same instant, I feel myself slip past the point of no return, and I grab my cock, groaning as Brigit opens her mouth and sits back on her heels, waiting for me to tell her where I want to come.
“Keep your mouth open,” I moan. It’s all too fucking hot to handle—the gorgeous woman making herself climax next to me and getting off watching me get a blowjob from another girl, that beautiful girl kneeling in front of me and waiting for me to give her orders.
I come so hard that I feel it in every inch of my body. Sonya is still moaning, shivering with pleasure as her orgasm shudders through her, and I erupt into Brigit’s mouth, pressing the head of my cock against her tongue and watching her take every drop as I jerk it feverishly, enjoying the view as Brigit follows my request to the letter.
When I’m sure that I can’t come for another second, I glance towards Sonya, feeling dizzy. Her eyes trail over my body, and she licks her lips.
“Get on the bed,” she purrs.
I don’t argue.
Sonya comes with me, undoing her bra and slipping off her panties before kneeling on the bed. I haven’t seen her naked before, either, and I can’t help but enjoy the view as she lightly scratches her nails down my abs. Her body is flawless, smooth, and fit, with soft curves in the places where I want them the most.
She runs those same nails over my softening dick and smiles.
“So impressive,” Sonya says with a smile, and lays back on the bed and spreads her leg.
“Don’t you want to thank me for the gift I’ve given you?” She says, glancing down at her already dripping pussy.
Fuck, this is hot. Bridget kisses my neck and begins to stroke my cock again.
“Tell me, Chase, do you want Bridget to stay or go?”
This is a test. It has to be. My cock throbbing isn’t helping me think clearly as I should.
“I think you’re enough women for me tonight,” I tell her licking my lips, our eyes locked. She smiles at this cuts her eyes to Bridget.
“We’ll finish up here. You can tell Aaron that I said you were more than satisfactory.”
Brigit nods, sliding off of the bed without a word. I catch a glimpse of her reaching for a trench coat before Sonya blocks my view, rising up on her knees as she replaces my hand on my dick with hers.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asks, her voice sultry. “Getting your cocked sucked while I watched?”
“Yes,” I groan, my mind too foggy to say anything more than that. This is a world far outside my comfort zone. In this world, women can be borrowed and sent home again, where people with enough power and money can have anything and anyone they want. I’ve been thrown into it, all the way into the deep end, and I feel like I’m just treading water. Sonya literally has me by the balls, and the worst of it is that I can’t say that I don’t want her to, in the literal sense.
She reaches into her nightstand, pulling out another condom, and expertly slips it over me as she leans down to kiss me, her lips firm and demanding. This is a woman who knows exactly what she wants and has no qualms about taking it. I’d never imagined it could be this sexy, but it is.
I reach to grab her hips as she starts to angle herself over me, but she grabs my hands and pins them over my head, holding me there with one hand as she guides me into her with the other.
She starts to move then, continuing to hold my hands down. Her hips grind expertly atop me, and I lose myself in the pleasure of it. She kisses me passionately, gasping against my mouth as she moves faster and faster, and then rears back, arching as she looks down at me possessively, hungrily. I can tell that she’s getting off on this, on riding me, dominating me, and the truth is that I am too. Her hand moves between her legs again, taking control of her pleasure. All I can do is watch as Sonya rides me to another orgasm, my cock aching from the sheer effort of holding my own back for the second time tonight. I can’t remember the last time I got to orgasm twice in a single night—and definitely never with two different girls.
Sonya nearly screams as the orgasm hits her, and I groan, gritting my teeth with the effort to hold back for as long as I can while she comes wildly. When she’s fully in the midst of it, grinding down onto me, I let go too, moaning her name as I finally manage to grab onto her hips, and I thrust myself as deeply into her as I can as I come hard.
I go to the bathroom to clean up after, and when I come back out, I expect her to be there on the edge of the bed, ready to tell me to call a cab and go. But instead, to my surprise, she’s asleep, and I hesitate as I lay back down, wondering if I should stay or go. I’ve mixed business with pleasure now and need to tread carefully. Hell, my fucking career is tied up in all of this.
I shift uncertainly next to Sonya. Her eyes flutter open briefly, and she throws her arm over my stomach, pulling me closer to her as her naked body curls around mine.
Shit.
I’ve had sex with plenty of women since Rain, but this is an intimacy that I’ve avoided in every single one of those encounters…and definitely didn’t expect with Sonya. The last thing I thought would happen when she grabbed my dick in the Ferrari was that I’d end the night sleeping in her arms.
I glance over at her. Asleep, her tough exterior is gone—she looks like a dark-haired angel lying there, her long lashes still against her cheeks, her mouth soft and peaceful. It won’t hurt to stay, I think to myself, and then my phone vibrates on the floor next to the bed.
I manage to grab it wi
thout waking Sonya and quickly glance at the text. It’s from my handler, Agent Davidson, with a time and place to meet tomorrow. I quickly slide my phone back into my pocket and glance over at Sonya before closing my eyes and trying to relax. I’m not going anywhere tonight.
I feel her wake next to me in the morning, sitting up with a yawn, but I pretend to still be asleep. I want to take her cue as to what to do—I have a feeling that whatever last night was about, it isn’t finished yet. I’m still waiting for her to kick me out and tell me that she’s done with me. From everything I’ve known about her before tonight, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit. Part of me is hoping for that; it would be easier than whatever the alternative that she might have in mind for me would be.
I must have drifted off again because when I wake back up, I open my eyes to see her sitting next to me, wrapped in a black silk robe with her hair slightly messy around her face…and a breakfast tray on the bed between us.
Blinking, I push myself upright against the pillows, the sheet pooling around my hips, and glance, confused, from the tray of bacon, eggs, and fruit to her face and back again. It’s super weird for Sonya to be bringing me breakfast in bed. I can’t lie…I’m suspicious. Has she figured out I’m FBI and is trying to poison me? She sure as hell has a black widow vibe to her.
She laughs when she sees the expression on my face. “I think it’s okay for me to serve you, just for today. After all, you did serve me last night.” She winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh out loud. It breaks the tension between us, and I give in and start eating. She must have eaten already or just isn’t hungry, because she just sits, studying me as I shovel down the food.