She laughed, swinging her long blonde hair over her shoulder. This was foreplay for her. “I see you’re here to break more hearts, Mr. Montero. What’s it been, two, three weeks? You know the girls get jealous when you don’t pay attention to them. You have your own harem of whores here, your pick of the pussy litter. Now I can see why, it’s that pretty boy face that makes women fucking wet when they see you coming… literally. Your reputation precedes you, though.” She took it upon herself to straddle my lap. Grinding her pussy on my cock to the beat of the house music. “I may be new, but from what I hear, you fuck like a real man. I’m Lola, by the way.”
As soon as those words left her tongue, something Emilio once said to me flashed through my mind. “I knew your first taste of pussy would teach you to fuck like a real man. Reap the dominance I knew laid dormant in you for so long. Like I told you before, women always love that.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Being with Teresa taught me one thing and one thing alone.
Control.
My first time, given the fucked-up situation, didn’t end my craving for it. If anything, it made it worse. I thrived on the control as much as I did on anything else. In and out of the bedroom.
It was just who I was now.
I didn’t know how to fuck any other way. I had to dominate the sex. Positioning them where I wanted, how I wanted. Dictating the movements of their hips while they rode my cock, hard and fast. There was no kissing or sleepovers, I fucked them and made them fuck me. The rougher the better. They were ordered to keep their mouths shut, not saying so much as a word without my permission. Call it whatever you want, but it was the only way I could avoid seeing the images of Teresa. Reliving what I was forced to do to her that night, all over again.
It wasn’t always about me, though. I’d always make them come, which was probably another reason they wanted me so bad. Not many men cared about a woman’s needs. Their minds set on the fact that they were whores for a reason.
Especially men like me.
“I want you,” she breathed out, leaning in to kiss me.
I gripped onto her hair at the nook of her neck, tugging her head back, hard. Making her whimper like a dog in fucking heat. She should’ve known better, I didn’t kiss. It was much easier this way. Being with a whore. Don’t get me wrong, I never forced another woman sexually.
They wanted it.
Getting pussy had never been an issue. Women literally threw themselves on my dick, as soon as they saw me walking in beside Emilio. Knowing who I was and what I meant to him. Especially the women who wanted a job where the cops wouldn’t fuck with them, aware they’d be protected by Emilio’s hand. That’s how easy it was for them to get on their knees and suck my cock.
This chick wasn’t any different.
I let go of her hair and slowly moved my hands from her neck to her ample tits, down to her narrow waist. She licked her lips, sucking in another breath when I suddenly gripped onto her hips. Placing her on the table in front of me so I could get a good fucking look at her.
I stood, spreading her legs to stand in between them. Getting close to her face, I rasped, “What makes you think I care about what you want?” Meaning every last word.
She inhaled, holding her breath as my hand continued its descent, running along her smooth, heated skin, down to her cunt. “Please…” she begged, looking into my eyes with nothing but need and urgency, so fucking aroused. The tips of my callused fingers awakening every last fiber of her being. Slowly and deliberately, I took my time, knowing damn well I was fucking ruining her for any other man.
“I'm desperate for you,” she purred, with nothing but hooded eyes.
I snidely smiled, cocking my head to the side. Taking a second to look into her pleading gray eyes before leaning into her ear, spewing, “Then get on your fucking knees and show me what desperate looks like.”
Her eyes instantly dilated as she slowly knelt in front of me, never taking her heady gaze off mine. I immediately reached for my belt buckle, undid my pants, and pulled out my cock in one swift movement. Jerking myself off in front of her face, not giving a flying fuck there were people around us.
She licked her lips, salivating at the size of my cock. I gripped onto the back of her neck this time, crudely tugging her toward me. Causing her to gasp at the sudden shift in my demeanor.
“You trust me?” I baited, and she nodded, not hesitating for one fucking second.
I didn't think twice about it, I took the head of my cock and traced the outline of her red, pouty goddamn lips before shoving it to the back of her throat without any warning. She gagged, choking on my cock. Panting for air that I was savagely taking away from her. I fucked her face. Taking away all my frustrations from the day, exactly how she knew I needed.
I glared down at the luscious blonde with a devious stare, viscously gritting out,
“You shouldn't.”
By the time I walked into my apartment, it was just past ten o’clock at night. I had spent the rest of the day fucking every hole of that blonde at the whorehouse. Hoping it would mask all the bullshit taking up occupancy front and center in my mind. I was emotionally, mentally, and physically drained.
It was game fucking over.
At least for tonight.
My feet moved on their own accord out to the balcony that overlooked the ocean. Craving the fresh air, yearning for the tranquility that it usually provided for me. I would spend hours out on the terrace or down at the beach, watching and listening to the soft lull of the waves crashing into the shore. Welcoming the warm, salty breeze coming off the water. It always had a way of calming my nerves no matter what I was feeling or going through, and something told me tonight wouldn’t be any fucking different. I slipped off my jacket, laid it over the railing, and rolled up my sleeves. Resting my forearms on the steel bar. Trying to wrap my head around all that had happened in the last thirteen hours, but failing miserably at doing so.
My mind wandered aimlessly as I took in the night’s air and the dark sky. Mesmerized by the high-rise buildings that lined the shore, the lights illuminating the streets, and the cars driving by in the distance. Taking in every last detail, needing to come down from the high that killing men and fucking whores always gave me. There was something about the sound of the waves and the ocean breeze that took me away to another place in time. A familiar sense of longing came over me, making me remember how much Amira loved the water.
“Wow! This is your apartment? It’s so big for only one person,” Amira observed, walking around the living room. It was the first time I brought her over since she started living with Rosarío, seven months ago.
“It’s not that big, Mu?eca, you’re just small.”
She placed her hands on her hips with Yuly dangling from her fingers. “I’m not small. You’re just abnormally large.”
I chuckled, making her smile. I swear this kid’s smart-ass mouth was going to be the death of me. As the weeks went by she started to come into her own, crying less and laughing more. She was constantly talking about one thing or another, barely letting me get a word in edgewise. I never imagined a nine-year-old little girl would have so much to say. She had an opinion about everything and wasn’t intimidated to speak her mind. It was a nice change of pace to have her around, especially since I was mostly alone before she unexpectedly came barging into my life.