Authors: K Webster
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Damn right,” he says with a growl but then his features soften a bit as his brows pinch together in concern. “Are you sure that you want this considering all that’s happened tonight? Don’t lie and tell me you’re okay if you’re going to start crying the moment I’m balls deep inside of you. I may be an asshole but I’m not a rapist. Now’s the time, Bunny. Your get out of jail free card.”
“I promise,” I assure him with a defiant lift of my chin. “I
want
this.”
Before I barely finish my statement, his strong hand seizes my wrist and he hauls me out of the bathroom. The moment the purple room comes into view, my world spins.
“N-N-Not here! Take me to your room or the fucking couch but please not in here,” I beg.
Dark, swirls of intrigue twist the grey in his eyes as he attempts to understand my fear. His chest heaves and I can see him almost physically drinking it up. This should scare me. He’s a damn lunatic. An animal.
But it doesn’t scare me.
I want him.
I know that with him, my degradation would only be matched by the height of my pleasure.
Just not here.
“I should make you,” he grunts, “but lucky for you, I prefer to fuck in the Hole.”
Swallowing down a cry of joy, I nod. “Take me there. Do bad things to me.”
His growl is almost inhuman as he drags me out of the purple hell and down the hallway to the black door. He produces a key from his pants pocket and pushes it into the lock. With a quick twist of his wrist, he strides through the door and into the chilly darkness. I shiver and I’m not sure if it’s because of how he slams the door or from how he locks it as if I’m his prisoner who might try to escape.
“What’s that smell?” I hiss under my breath. Fumbling in the dark, I search for a light switch and step on a soda can.
“Oh, Bunny.” His voice slices through the darkness, chilling me to the bone. “You should feel right at home.”
A clicking noise off to my left has me jerking my head in that direction. Soon, a long fluorescent light over a table flickers and hums before it brightens half of the dark space. Brax stands there, slowly unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt, his turbulent eyes never leaving mine.
I tear my gaze from his and my eyes skitter over the awful room. Graffiti paints the walls with words like slut, whore, and bitch. The room smells like piss and garbage. My stomach tightens in my belly and I wonder if I’ll puke in this shithole. Trash litters the edge of the walls and a dirty, stained mattress lies in the center of the room.
The room is disturbing, and oddly familiar to what I came from just over a week ago. Funny how in such a short time I have already forgotten how vile it was. But now, as I take it all in, I’m horrified at how I’d been living.
It’s amazing I survived.
Men fucked me. Stole from me. Hit me. Drugged me. Raped me.
And I kept coming back for more.
“I don’t feel so well,” I say with a gasp, attempting not to suck in any more of the putrid air.
Brax laughs from the corner and it’s bone chilling. His chest glistens with sweat despite the freezing-ass room and I shiver. I’m not sure why he wants to have sex in here. This room doesn’t belong in this gorgeous house. This room is sinister and evil.
“I bet you’re craving a hit, aren’t you whore?” he sneers. “Want me to find your pretty little vein and fuck you up with your precious skag? Is that what you want? What you deserve?”
I did deserve it. My heart flutters at the mention of the drug I’ve desired for a long fucking time. I was a whore, a slut, an animal who couldn’t stop myself from craving things that would only put me in greater danger. But at the moment, all I want to do is get out of this dump.
“N-N-No,” I chatter. My voice sounds unsure. Is he really offering me a hit? It would certainly make all of this disappear. Then, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted and I couldn’t give two shits about it.
Another shudder wracks through me. But then I wouldn’t feel his hot body pressed against mine. I wouldn’t quake with the orgasms he would give me. I wouldn’t feel his possessive tongue in my mouth, owning me.
I meet his indignant glare and lift my chin. With a shake of my head, I approach him. His body visibly shakes with barely controlled hate. I’ve seen this look in a person’s eyes before. There’s no calming them when they’re like this. They will do what they want to do. It would be in my best interest to just go with it.
“I don’t want the drugs. I want you,” I whisper, “
master
.”
As much as I hate giving him the satisfaction of his stupid title, I know he gets off on it somehow. If that turns his anger into desire, I’ll be his good little toy and give him what he needs.
He groans when I reach him and begin unfastening his pants. I keep my eyes trained on his and lick my lips in a teasing manner. Braxton can be my drug for the night. As long as I can focus on him, this shitty room will disappear. Just like it does when I’m high.
Difference is though, I actually want to have sex with him unlike those other punters in the past.
His pants hit the floor and his cock strains to be set free from his boxers. At least I know he’s turned on by me. I’m not the ugly little, spaced out thing he picked up a week ago. Now, he’s getting Jessica.
I yelp when his hands slide roughly up my throat and into my hair. His lips drop to mine and he kisses me brutally, holding me to him while he bruises me with his mouth. The moan that he draws from me is quiet but needy. And as soon as his warm cock is in my cold hands, I whimper with an unspoken plea for him to fuck me with it.
“Jesus, Bunny,” he hisses, hot breath mixing with mine. “You’re fucking with my head. You’re fucking up what I want to do to you.”
I stroke his hard length and pull away to look at his shadowed face. “My body is yours. Do what you want because I want it too.”
This provokes him because he growls and slides his palm to my throat. With a tight squeeze, he nearly lifts me from the ground by my neck and walks me backwards. I hold onto his wrist, but don’t try to pull him off.
“Bunny, you were right about your body belonging to me,” he says with an ominous rumble. “But, you were wrong about wanting it. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to beg to be anywhere but near me.”
He tosses me roughly onto the mattress and it knocks the breath out of me. Brax is used to dominating his power over everyone, men included. But I’ve lived this life before. He might dominate my body but he’ll never own my mind.
With a lift of my chin and a sweet smile, I say with a southern drawl, “Do your worst, handsome. I’m not afraid.”
M
y pulse races and my heart nearly beats out of my chest. She’s pissing me right the fuck off, yet, she also turns me right the hell on. Her slender body is sexy as she stretches out on the dirty mattress. The protective part within myself rages with fury because she doesn’t belong on the floor. She should be in my bed downstairs, enjoying the warm fireplace in my room, curled in my arms.
Her pretty green eyes, though, challenge me and the controlling animal inside of me wants to show her that she does belong here. That she deserves to get fucked like the piece of shit white trash she is. That side of me wants to bruise her and choke her and make her bleed.
I shove down my boxers and watch with wonder as her tongue darts out and she wets her lips. The bitches I bring to the Hole fill the room with the sounds of their senseless begging and crying. They promise me blow-jobs and anal—as if I wouldn’t get that anyway or that they even have a choice. Each one ends up screaming and running for the locked door. And every time, I end up knocking the shit out of them and finish myself off by coming all over their whore faces.
It’s what I do.
It’s who I am.
But Bunny’s acting like she’s about to indulge in a wine finer than the one she opened earlier. In this shitty hole of a room, she’s eager for my cock. Her ability, without the drugs, to block out her surroundings and focus on me is a fucking turn on. And for a split second, I consider dragging her out of here.
“Take that shit off, whore,” I spit out as I stroke my eager cock.
Her eyebrow lifts in surprise but without argument, she sheds her bra and panties. The light may be dim but her now smooth pussy glistens and I crave to taste it.
I don’t fucking taste them. Not here. Not like this.
I hurt them.
I bite them.
I fuck them.
“On your knees,” I snarl. “I want that little ass pointing in the air.”
She bats her eyelashes at me in a seductive way that once again has me questioning what to do with her next. But eventually, she assumes the demanded position. Her tiny ass is white and flawless. I want to mark it up. It enrages me that the stupid dipshit, Trevor, thought he could have her.
The man has some balls.
When I saw her tears—the despair and self-hatred in her eyes—I went mad with a rage that never before presented itself. My fists connected with that asshole’s face over and over again until there was blood staining my white marble floor. It took Jamal and Dubois both to pull me from his beaten body. I’d lied to Bunny about killing him—I’d simply wanted to shock her. To scare her. Unfortunately, she was happy. Fucking happy.
Trevor had groaned and gurgled despite his ass whipping but I knew he’d live. I wanted him to live because it was going to be my honor to make his life a living hell. Killing him would be too easy. So I left his pussy-ass, washed my hands, and came straight for her.
My toy.
Mine.
I focus on the beautiful thing before me. Regardless of the shitty names I call her, I can’t deny how she messes with my head. I like seeing her sweet smiles and feisty green eyes when they dance with mischief. Bunny was different. From the first time I laid eyes on her—I knew it. I somehow knew deep down that I’d truly enjoy her but it wouldn’t be the same as all the others.
“Touch yourself,” I demand. “But don’t come.”
Her manicured fingers move between her legs and I groan at how hot she looks as she massages her clit. In spite of my rules and bullshit, I’m going to taste her one day. Not here but somewhere in this house—away from this dirty hole of a room.
She peeks over her shoulder at me and flashes me a questioning look. “Like this?”
I crave her intensely in this moment. The uncertainty painted on her features is alluring and I decide I love the look. All of the other whores are usually so confident in their abilities, much like Bunny was when she gave me that epic blow-job.
But right now, my sweet toy seems worried.
“You’re doing great,” I tell her, my voice hoarse. I hadn’t expected to divulge the compliment but it rolled off my tongue before I could stop it. When her eyes shine with a never-before-seen pride at pleasing me, I once again realize how she responds so beautifully to praise.
Moments earlier, I’d wanted to string her up and whip her. To rip her skin to shreds with my belt. I wanted to hurt her.
Now I want inside of her so bad it hurts—like I’m some horny damn teenager. I can’t wait any longer.
I just fucking want her.
“Bunny,” I growl as I drop to my knees behind her. “What are you doing to me?”
She whimpers when I shove her fingers away, replacing them with my own. Her body responds to my touch and soon she’s rocking her hips in unison with my fingers. I still her by gripping her hip with my free hand and then hold my cock to tease her pussy with it. The opening is hot and fucking dripping with want.
“I’m going to take you now,” I mutter and bring both hands to her hips. “I want you to keep massaging that pussy while I fuck you. I want you to come all over my cock, little toy. And then I’m going to come inside of you.”
She nods and with shaky fingers, she sets to fingering herself. I line myself up and don’t warn her before I push my thickness deep inside of her with one hard thrust.
“Ah,” she gasps.
No screams.
No crying.
No wails.
Just a silent, pleasure-filled gasp from having me stretch her wide open. With each forceful pound into her, my nuts slap her fingers that are violently working her toward an orgasm. Yesterday she’d been so fucking cute when she was pissed at not being able to get herself off. I wonder if tonight she’ll be able to.