Chapter 7 - Ryker

"Please, Mr. Penn. Please," her voice was high pitched and shaky as she begged me. The muscles of her legs stood out in relief as she straddled the Hitachi without coming. If she came without permission, everything would end.

The worst sort of torture for a masochist was no torture at all.

I flicked the chain that connected the clover clamps attached to each of her nipples. Her body rippled as I forced more sensation on her. I leaned down, grabbed her chin. Bringing her face up to mine, I took her mouth. Claimed her lips and tongue with my own.

As she was sinking into the kiss, I pulled away. Pushed her head down to my waiting cock. As her lips closed around the mushroom head, I wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed.

Synra had a list of hard limits that I could count on one hand. She loved everything right on the edge. And I loved giving it to her.

With almost clinical detachment, I monitored her body. The red flush of her face, the straining of her muscles. The size of her pupils. When her cheeks went from red to slightly purple, I eased the pressure in one smooth motion.

She gulped in a breath, my dick in the way.

Wrenching a hand in her hair, I fisted it and pulled her head back so she could breathe unencumbered. "Come, pet. Come for me, little girl."

Her scream almost shattered my eardrums. But that scream was what I needed to find my own release.

My dick pulsed and jizz pumped from the end and landed on her quavering breasts as the Hitachi worked her unrelentingly. I reached down, scooped some of it up on my finger, and shoved my finger in her mouth.

Her tongue attacked my digit as if it were my cock. Sucking, biting, licking. This woman had a truly impressive mouth.

Her brow furrowed as the Hitachi continued to buzz against her clit.

I pulled back, turned off the machine, and waited for her to come back to me.

She slumped back on the floor, her legs spread wide. Her cunt bright red and dripping. Her chest was heaving as she lay there, eyes closed. Small moans tumbled from her throat as she came down from the endorphin high.

I cleaned myself off. Got back into my clothes. My nose wrinkled at the smell of them. I would need to get these cleaned really well before wearing them again.

Synra curled up on her side. Her legs came up, putting her into the fetal position.

I grabbed a bottle of water and the blanket my subs used for aftercare. Wrapped her up, made sure the lights were on low.

I provided for them, but I didn't do snuggles or cuddles. We were adults who shared some distinct sexual interests. I wasn't my subs' boyfriend or lover. Zero emotions were exchanged. Just bodily fluids.

I closed the door behind me as I walked back up the stairs to my penthouse. The subs were free to use the space I provided for them for as long as they wanted. As long as they followed the rules.

Reaching my floor, I punched in the code to the door and walked into the kitchen. Got a bottle of water for myself. Chugged it down. Crumpled the bottle and tossed it in the trash.

I gritted my teeth. Dissatisfaction nagged at me, dug its talons into my flesh. None of the scenes I planned out were good enough. None of them took me to that place anymore. Brought me the escape they used to.

Sure, I got off-I was a healthy guy after all. But lately, there has been something missing. I tried harder and harder scenes. Scenes that demanded my complete attention. Any lapses could result in severe trauma or hospital runs. I prided myself on being a good Dom.

But it was all becoming routine. Boring. I shuddered...vanilla.

My phone rang, distracting me. I frowned at the name that popped up on the display. I hit the connect button. "It's three in the morning, John. What the fuck could you possibly need to talk about right now?"

"I've got trouble."

My brow furrowed. "And you called to tell me that why?"

"Because you're the only one who can help me out of it."

I snorted. Loudly. "No, I'm not. I bought your company three years ago. Our association ended when the ink was dry on the contracts."

"Listen up, boy," he sneered the last word. "You're going to help me out of this or I'll start a media and legal shitshow you can't crawl out of."

My fist clenched around the phone, a low metallic groan sounded. "Careful, old man. I can bury you and no one looking would ever find the body."

He laughed. It bordered on hysterical. "If this gets out, no one will want to find me."

I smiled. "There you go. Just leave whatever it is alone and go to your death quietly." I hung up. Why the men my dead father considered friends called me up expecting me to solve their numerous problems was always so baffling.

They meant nothing to me. Less than nothing really. Just companies to acquire. Money to be made. They were a dying breed of Old School Boys who thought that being white and having dicks meant the world owed them.

My phone rang again. I ignored it. I didn't have time to coddle some old man about his life problems. I didn't care about his troubles or issues. I had enough of my own to deal with.

The ringing phone finally died off. It wasn't even a minute later that it started up again. I sighed. Picked it up. "What the fuck do you want, John?"

"Don't you ever hang up on me again, you little shit. My boy got into some trouble at some ridiculous bar in the District," the old man growled.

I sighed again. "And? Let him pay the fines. He's a fucking adult. He needs to learn that consequences accompany actions." It's what my father had taught. I hope he was still burning in hell.

"If he gets charged, Harvard won't accept him."

"Did he do what he's being charged for?"

John snarled. "That doesn't matter. He's my son. I can't have my name pulled through the mud."

I shook my head. "And you think I can change the police or the DA's mind?"

"Throw some of the money you made from selling my company. You owe me. Grease whatever palms need greasing. He can't be charged."

"No. I bought your company, you signed on the dotted line. I don't owe you anything. What I made in return for your company is my business. It is not a line of credit or anything else. Mine."

He gave a chuckle, the sound gurgled over the phone. "You're going to do what I tell you, without any more fucking talk back, and you're going to like it."

I laughed. Laughed so long and loud my cheeks hurt and my belly started to ache. "You've got nothing, you asshole."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"Yup. I keep my nose clean. You're used to dealing with my father and his shady practices. I built my company on being straight and following the law. Nothing you have is going to make me help you or your dipshit son. What are the charges anyways?"

He ignored my question. "Last chance, Penn."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll play your game." I set the phone on speaker and started typing out a message to Nik. "What have you got on me?"

"Seems you're wrapped up with the Amatucci family. You also kidnapped a patient. I've got hospital security footage of you carrying an unconscious woman from the premises. That patient was registered as lost in the hospital system." I could hear the smile on the bastard's face over the line. He was having a fucking riot.

I was silent as I tried to figure out what to do.

"Have I got your attention now?"

"Yes." I abandoned the text to Nik. I hit a couple buttons on my phone. Brought up a different number.

"Good. At the start of the business, you're going to call up your friend the DA. You're going to personally vouch for Everett being with you. He couldn't have done what he's being accused of because he was with you. You're going to donate however much you need to in order to get all of this swept under the rug."

"And if I don't?" I asked, my fingers flying over the screen of my phone.

"Then I'll be releasing information in the kidnapping of one Willa Chasebrook. The police will be on your doorstep before I'm done placing the concerned citizen's call."

"I didn't kidnap her. Nor is she here."

"I don't fucking care if you threw her off your roof and she's splattered on the sidewalk somewhere. Do what I tell you, little boy, and all of this will go away."

I sneered. "If you think I'm going to forget the fact that you're blackmailing me, then you need to go see a professional, John. But sure, I'll go talk to the DA. See what I can do."

"Good boy," he said. Right before he hung up on me.

I hit a couple more buttons before opening the phone app again. I thumbed through the recent call list. Hit the number I wanted.

"Someone better be dying," the gruff voice said.

"Seems we have some business to attend to," I said.