Desire Me

She blinked. “You are my kind of man. Oh, by the way, my name is Blair.”


He saw no true desire in her brown eyes, but that was okay. He didn’t care. His dick had been hard when he’d first spied her, thinking about Angelina. Now, as he imagined fucking her like he’d been denied the opportunity, his cock became unbelievably harder. A fact Blair seemed to find delight in, thinking it was her doing.

“You have somewhere we can go that’s less crowded than this bar?” Andrew asked, his voice came out in a rough growl.

Clearly uncomfortable at his question, but she recovered quickly, standing up and stepping back. He watched as she pulled her miniscule skirt down her thighs.

Andrew was satisfied to notice the bartender hadn’t been paying any attention to their little exchange. “Why don’t you go wait by the door for me, while I pay my bill?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she took in the row of shot glasses and the few other short glasses lined up behind him. “All right,” Blair agreed then turned to walk back through the maze of people.

After settling his bill, he took a longer walk around the bar, not wanting the bartender to see him meeting up with the whore.

Outside the hotel bar, he insisted they walk, saying he needed a little fresh air. Luckily, her flat wasn’t that far, and she had no roommate. Once inside, he admired the large space. In New York, property was spendy, and a woman who could afford a place on her own with a panoramic view of the city clearly made good money.

Blair gestured for him to take a seat on her leather sofa, but Andrew wasn’t there to make conversation. He double checked the locks were set on the door, easing the heavy chain lock into place as well.

“I think we can skip the niceties and get straight to what we both know we are here for.” Andrew yanked on his tie, dragging the offending item off his neck. Yes, he’d use the silk tie to bind the little slut.

The woman nodded, beckoned him with her finger, and began walking backward. He presumed it was toward her bedroom. Andrew followed, unbuttoning his shirt, dragging it out of his pants. Reaching her bedroom, she shucked out of her outfit and stood in a pushup bra and thong. She stood with her hands at her side, gazing at him with an obvious practice of seduction.

“Do you want to talk about money?” He asked, kicking off his shoes.

She looked surprised. “No. I actually don’t.”

He imagined she worried he was a cop. Andrew would put her fears on that level at ease soon enough. Within moments, he was standing before her naked, stroking his dick, watching her eyes flare.

Her headboard was a large metal piece that would be the perfect item for his purpose. She exuded confidence, and he couldn’t wait to beat it out of her, unlike Charity, who he couldn’t let loose on completely. “Get up on the bed.”

He crawled on after her, holding onto his tie he’d picked up. As he lifted her hands above her head, she made a small moan of pleasure. Andrew bent and kissed her, a hard press of lips, licking inside, tasting sweet peppermint.

After making sure her arms were secured to the headboard, he got up off the bed. “Do you have any scarves? I’d like to tie you down, show you how good I can make you feel.” Lies. All lies. Andrew tweaked her nipples, bending to suck them into his mouth one at a time.

Beneath her lace panties she had a small tattoo peeking out, he wanted to see it more clearly. Using his strength, he ripped the tiny straps on each side.

“Hey, what if those were my favorite pair.” She feigned a pout. “By the way, I have some silk stockings you can use instead of scarves. Top drawer in the corner.”

“Great,” he said abruptly then turned to fetch the bindings.

He gazed down at Blair, seeing Angelina, her arms secured above her head, legs spread wide with her pussy open for him to take. Climbing onto the bed again, he straddled her chest, raising her head with his hand fisting her hair. He used her mouth, making her suck him first, uncaring of the tears that formed in her eyes.

By the time he landed the first blow to her face, fear replaced the anger, and then resignation as he’d slowly used her body over and over. He’d grabbed a few other pieces of her clothing to stifle her screams, and by the time he’d walked out of her bathroom, freshly showered, he wasn’t sure if her chest was still moving up and down. Through the blood and mottled bruises, he couldn’t tell, uncaring if she lived or had died.

He’d make Angelina pay just like he’d made Blair, the woman who resembled her enough to have slaked his lust and anger momentarily. Grabbing the trashcan with the used condoms and wiping off the surfaces he’d touched, Andrew made his way back out of the flat. The men he’d had following him were nowhere to be seen; he’d made sure they’d lost them in the hustle and bustle of the crowd as they’d left the hotel bar. Now, as he hailed a cab, he made his travel plans for Miami.





Chapter Twelve


Elle Boon, C.C. Cartwright, Catherine Coles, Mia Epsilon, Samantha Holt, J.W. Hunter, Allyson Lindt, Kathryn Kelly, Tracey Smith's books