People do what I tell them. It isn’t a novel concept, in fact, it’s when they don’t that is the rarity. However, it’s normally out of either fear or respect that has them bowing to my whims.
So, seeing Wendy walk into my bar wearing the exact baby blue dress from the first night I saw her, it does things to me. Sends pleasure skating through my insides, knowing that she did it for no other reason than to please me. Like a good pet.
It was more difficult than I expected to sit in my office, watching her on the security feed; testing to see if she’d wait for as long as I needed. But once I saw her interact with Moira, I knew I needed to end my experiment. Can’t have a silly waitress messing up my plans by scaring the girl away.
Although, I do think she might be rather difficult to get rid of. While the media has always painted her as Peter’s pride and joy, she’s succumbing to me so easily. Almost like she’s desperate for the attention.
If I could still feel things the way a normal person does, her attachment would cause sympathy to swell in my chest. I assume, after all, it’s trauma of some type that has her clinging so quickly. But my heart no longer pumps the way it should. And while my blood still runs red, any soul I once had has been eaten by the acid that runs through my veins.
Even as a boy, there was something about me that attracted the darkness in even the lightest of souls; drawing it to the surface until it cascaded from their bodies and drenched my skin, burning like black tar on a sunny day.
And maybe that’s why I find Wendy so refreshing. Why it’s so easy to get lost inside of her. Because she’s the only person that hasn’t been swallowed whole by my sickness.
Not yet, anyway.
“Where’s Smee?” she asks, sprawling out on the couch in my living room.
I settle in close, offering her a glass of water and crossing my foot over my opposite leg. “I’m not sure.” I glance around. “His time is his time, I try to stay out of his personal life, and expect him to do the same. I’m sure he’ll turn up at some point.”
She nods, taking a sip of water before setting it down. “That’s nice. You seem like a good boss.”
I grin, my hand reaching out and running up the bare skin of her thigh. “I think you’ll find I’m phenomenal at giving direction.”
She giggles. “And so humble too.”
Smirking, my fingers tease the hem of her dress. She trembles under my palm, and my cock hardens at how responsive she is to my touch.
“I—” She swallows, shaking her head. “I have some questions.”
Annoyance flickers in my chest, but I pull back, raising a brow. “Alright.”
Her fingers twist together as she stares down at her lap—something I’ve realized she does whenever she’s nervous.
“What do you do for a living?”
The question surprises me. I foolishly assumed that if she hadn’t asked by now, she wouldn’t. I lean back, my arms spanning the length of the couch. “I’m a businessman.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, so is my father. But I mean, what do you do?”
The mention of her father sparks a blaze inside of me, and I’m suddenly desperate to know everything about him from her point of view. “Your father?”
“Ugh.” She palms her face. “I wasn’t actually planning on talking about him. But yeah. He’s a ‘businessman.’”
“Oh.” I run my tongue over my teeth. “Maybe I’ve worked with him.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. He’s pretty well known.”
“Who is he?” I put great effort into keeping my voice low and steady, my nerves dancing like pop rocks under my skin.
“Peter Michaels.”
Pushing a hand through my hair, I sigh. “Never heard of him.”
Her eyes widen, but I don’t miss the way her shoulders drop, as if she’s been relieved of a weight. “Really? That’s kind of… surprising.”
My fingers rub at my jawline. “Is it? I’m sorry I’m not as versed as I should be then.”
Her grin grows, her upper body leaning toward me. “I like that you don’t know. I was so worried about telling you, to be honest. I didn’t want your opinion of me to change.”
I snap forward, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her the rest of the way into me. She whooshes out a breath as her body lands on mine, her ample breasts pressing deliciously into my chest. “Darling, no one on this earth could change my opinion of you. I’m afraid it’s already set in stone.”
She lifts her head, her lips centimeters from mine. “What is it then?”
“My opinion?” My mouth dips down to skim across her neck, my hand reaching behind her head to tangle in the strands of her silky hair. “I can show you if you’d like.”
Her breathing stutters as I tighten my grip and tug, the expanse of her neck elongating. I press kisses up the column of her throat, making my way back to her lips. The taste of her invades my senses, need spiraling through my center and heating my blood.
She moans, her hips pressing against my shaft through the thin material of my pants, creating a friction that has pinpricks of pleasure skittering up my spine. I release her mouth and lay back, allowing her to start up a rhythm. She’s teasing me. Torturing me, but god does she look a vision. Her blue dress is bunched at her hips, lips rosy red to match her cheeks, and eyes half lidded as they look down on me.
My fingers release the strands of her hair, my arm wrapping around her as I sit up, our bodies suddenly flush against each other.
Our noses brush as I thrust into her panty-covered center. I suck in her breath and take it as my own, pressing my lips to hers. She moans, her arms curling around my neck, a sharp sting radiating through my mouth as the taste of copper floods my taste buds. I jerk back, my thumb brushing across my bottom lip, coming away with red. She bit me.
Normally, the sight of my own blood makes me retch, but for some reason, arousal floods my system. My arm tightens around her waist as I slide forward, my lips molding to hers, the taste of my blood mixing with her saliva. She sucks on my tongue as if she wants to swallow me whole, and I groan, pushing her down on the couch, my hips settling between her thighs.
I break away from her lips, moving my mouth to her ear. My palm wraps around her throat and squeezes. “Are you going to let me see that pretty pussy?”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, hips pressing up to meet mine. My fingers drift from her neck, down her torso to meet her core, my hand wrapping around the center of her cotton panties and pulling until they snap off her frame. Her inhale is audible, and it makes my cock throb, desperate to feel her from the inside.
Tossing the torn fabric behind me, I push her thighs apart, my nose running up her glistening slit. A groan rumbles in my throat. She smells delectable. Like musk, and woman, and everything pure, as if her pheromones were bred just for me. My mouth waters with the need to taste her while she comes apart underneath me.
I move toward her opening, lapping at the wetness that’s seeping from her center, coating my tongue with her taste.
She giggles, her fingers wrapping around the strands of my hair. “That tickles, James.”
I grin against her, my arm pressing down across her stomach firmly. “Stop moving, pet.”
My fingers slip into her at the same time I suck her swollen clit into my mouth, feeling it pulse on my tongue. Her body jerks under my arm, and I pin her down tighter, my hips pressing into the couch cushion to relieve the ache throbbing in my cock.
She’s tight, and precum leaks from my tip as I imagine how it will feel when her walls are hugging the thickness of my shaft instead of sucking on my fingers. I have a sneaking suspicion she’s a virgin, and the thought of being the first man to have her—the one who will ruin her for all others—makes me ravenous to destroy her body, mind, and soul.
I continue to pump my digits, wetness coating my hand from her dripping pussy. My arm lifts from her torso, moving up until it wraps around her neck, my fingers tapping against the pulse of her heart.
Releasing her clit from my mouth, I look up, noting her flushed cheeks and the way her breasts heave underneath the beautiful blue of her dress. “Take a deep breath for me, pet, and don’t let it out until you see stars.”
She does—immediately—her throat tightening as she inhales and holds. My hand wraps around the sides of her neck, and I dive back into her pussy, slowly increasing the pressure around her windpipe at the same rate of my suction on her clit.
Her hands grapple in my hair, thighs trembling as they close around my head. My fingers curl inside of her, rubbing the spongy spot of her inner walls, my gaze locks on her from my place between her legs. Her eyes are rolling in the back of her head, her lips parted as I ensure she can’t take in air even if she wished.
My cock throbs as I think of her lips turning blue, her body on the verge of giving in; of giving up, right before I allow her to come, letting the sweet air expand in her lungs and bring her back to life.
Her back bows off the couch as she explodes, her fingers nearly ripping my hair from the root, the sting of pain making my balls tighten and heat coil at the base of my spine.
I release her throat, reveling in her deep gasps of air, and continue to lap at her while she soars from the high.
Finally, I release her clit, my fingers making an audible noise as they withdraw from her sopping cunt. My gaze locks on hers as my tongue swipes across my lips, cleaning her taste from my mouth.
My chest pulls, insides reeling as I stare down at her, realizing that I’ve never held such beauty in my hands.
And in this moment, I’m not sure how I’ll let her go.
