"You're not a darn ghost. Stop sneaking up on me like that.” She breathed. Yet there he was, his expression stoic on that strikingly handsome face, arms folded across his strong chest, his thick, bold legs spread apart in khaki shorts. Wait, he was wearing shorts? Who put a gun to his head? She mused inwardly. “That makes it One, Two.” He counted, and her head snapped towards his direction, her lips pursed. “What did I do now, Mr. Grumpy?” She huffed a breath, getting on her feet. Despite the evidence being there, his toolbox was left disorganized, the screwdriver and hammer he caught her dropping back, yet she still asked him. But what was her number two offense?! She scoffed within herself. “That makes it three. For thinking about escaping, calling me Mr. Grumpy, and not eating your food, you can increase the count as you please.” He said, walking past her to put his toolbox together. Rolling her eyes, she brushed a hair strand to the back of her ears. “Seriously,
Shaking her head in protest, he inserted another thick finger into her core, and she bucked her hips to take it, tightening her grip on his shoulders so that for a second she almost bored holes into his clothes. Increasing his finger movements to a ruthless pace, he pushed the salad against her lips. “Don't keep anything closed from me, Cara. I won't tell you again.” He warned, maintaining his finger pace coupled with how lustful his gaze locked on hers, she had no choice but to hook her leg over the armrest, giving him more room. “Oh, so uhhh.” She mewled, screwing her eyes shut and rocking her hips in rhythm with his hand movements. This was so wrong; regardless, her whole body was attuned to his touch. Craved it. Ruined for him. “Ah!” She flinched when he pinched her delicate walls, causing such a searing sting that exploded in her core. If she wasn't as sick as him, she'd have said it was a mortifiable sensation. But she was. When she didn't get the message, he re
The buzzing sound of the vibrator intensified that she began crying in pleasure though her sounds muffled, he could still hear the desperation in her tone. Please Ryder fuck me but I can't say it, that was all he heard. Being the sadist, in Ciara's words, he yearned to break and mend her as many times as she needed for her to embrace her truth. She craved this depravity as much as he did. Now bound in ties, with her ass helplessly suspended in the air, it became more torturous to mute her soundtrack, so she trapped the pillow between her teeth, determined not to give him that satisfaction. He'd seen her enough for that day. And even if it were her last, she'd prove him wrong. At least partially. Stroking his cock in preparedness, he busied himself with watching how her plump ass flesh vibrated from the motion going on in her core. She was hot, sore, and ready for him, the thought made his cock jerk, precum smearing its cap, and his neck muscles protruded, accentuating his dr
“You were fucking sweet, bambino. I should loosen you up for the next- “Don't.” She interrupted, her tone a bit shaky.When pulled herself along the bed, his brow cocked as he assessed her exhausted form. “You know how I hate being interrup— “Not when I ask you to replace the vibrator. I want it now.” She sassed, rolling on her back, and they locked eyes for an intense moment. Both minds went blank for a second, especially his, because his heart raced at the stimulation of her admission. Yet if she was this way, it made his iron control slip away. His role as the dominant becomes useless. “You're exhausted. Putting up this bad bitch act won't do you any good.” Getting on his knees, he reached to untie the ropes, but she pushed herself up to the headboard, wincing at the soreness in her back. Fortunately, despite how she was tied up, it still allowed her to twist her body without much hindrance. “Did I say you could get up? Lie back down.” He gestured towards the sheet, a musc
Maintaining that position, he grunted as he drove her at a maddening pace that fueled and satiated his ravenous desire all at once untill she was left gasping for air and biting down on her gag, only then did he slow down, releasing her calves. “Now I'll fuck you how I want it.” He croaked, taking off her gag, after which he freed the ropes around her wrists, ankles, and thighs while still buried inside her. Screw her how he wanted? Was he going to demonstrate one of his sicker ideas, like tying her legs and arms to the wall or what? But her thoughts soon drifted off as he pulled her to land on her back, pulling out only to plunge into her in one go, and then his lips came down on her lips. Her eyes popping out of their sockets in disbelief, for a while she stayed still as he devoured her mouth in slow, deepened strokes unlike the kiss earlier. Yet she kept her hands up, scared to touch him or relax her muscles into the delusion of his tenderness. For all she knew, he could tape
With an arched brow, Rosie flung the door open to find her best friend standing by the door, her head bowed and her grip around the handle of her suitcase firm. “Bailey?” Rosie called, tilting her head to get a closer look. In turn, Bailey slowly lifted her head, a tight smile spreading across her lips. “Hey. Surprise.” Her voice squealed dramatically, like she'd forced in a delightful tone. Placing her hand over her mouth, Rosie gasped in shock. “It's really you, Bee. Come here.” She beckoned, opening up her arms. Blinking her eyes furiously until a tear dropped, she bit her lips before crashing into Rosie's arms. “I finally let him go. Mom and the others say I did good, but I—her uneven tone was accompanied with sobs as she buried her face into Rosie's neck while the latter gently patted her back. “You did great. That bastard didn't deserve you.” She consoled stroking Bailey's ash blonde hair. The next morning, Rosie kneaded her fingers, adjusting the loop of her r
Not until she realized it was booming from the next-door neighbor’s room did her racing heartbeat tempered down.It was a strident rock song, probably one from the 90s, the detestable type that made her want to scream at both the artist and the listener to shut the fuck up. Joel used to love those in his teenage years, a small voice reminded her, and she grabbed a pillow, tossing it at the window facing the neighbor's. “Take that! Loser.” She yelled, grateful that the music was loud enough to mute hers. No wonder she despised rock songs. Stomping off to the kitchen to check on the pizza, she forgot to use a napkin for a second, scorching her fingers with the hot food, and she flinched. “Shit.” Rushing over to the sink, she opened the running water over the affected fingers, and then her phone beeped on the counter, causing her to startle. Screwing her eyes shut, she clicked her teeth. “Today's definitely not my day, and I'm about to wrap it up with murder. Now who's the lucky
"You have the guts to booze it up like you're the victim? Playing the pity card again, aren't you? Sonofabitch.” She spat, turning on her heels and stomping off, her heartbeat thudding as though it was down her stomach already. Striding with long strokes behind her, he fisted his fingers into his hair, matching her trotting steps. “What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in your penthouse in LA, being daddy's little princess?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his tone, but it came out wrong in Bailey's ears that she halted. The edge of her heels squeaked as she pivoted, folding her arms across her chest while she glared at him. “I should be the one asking. Are you stalking me?” She queried, and he let out a sharp laugh, walking over to close their distance, his large frame towering over hers. “See. Exactly what a daddy's princess would think. That the world revolves around her.” He mocked. “Isn't that what broke, washed-up losers like you do, stalk people
Ashley's POV “I think it's yours.” He pointed to my handbag, which I had placed on the next chair, and I nodded, fishing it out. As if I hadn't known it was mine. Goodness, I sure hope the caller had a hundred million dollars to loan me for interrupting such an important moment of life and death. “A minute, please.” Waving me off with an understanding smile, he turned back to his computer while I excused myself. “Hey, honey.” It was Gracie, and if I'm not mistaken, her voice sounded a bit shaky as she sniffed, and my heartbeat started thudding in anxiety. “What's wrong?" I asked Knitting my brows, I went on "Are you crying?” Running my palm down my thigh, I waited for her response. “Don't get worked up, okay. But you—you need to come home right… Stop!” I heard her scream, then the line went dead. Okay, now I'm freaking out. Reconstructing the contours of my face, I took a deep breath, managing a small smile as I whirled around and grabbed my bag. In retu
Ashley's POV Blood rushed out of the veins of my hand as the reality of what I had done hit me especially with Cain's steely brown eyes glaring at me while Marvin clicked his teeth in vexation. “This bitch just fucking slapped us.” Marvin's angry words trailed off as I hurried out of the office. The moment I got into my room, I bolted the locks, feeling a sudden surge of heat in my pores as I disheveled my hair. “What have I done?” I mumbled, hurrying over to pull down my curtain blinds since my window faced the Venom's farmhouse backyard. At a loss for the next step to take, I grabbed my handbag from the nightstand, ransacking it for my cellphone. At first I had thought I only had the one job of saving my dad's ranch. But now that the tables have turned and I found he'd kept his debts away from me and everyone else, the game has changed and the Venmos have the upper hand now. God, Gracie would be so devastated to hear the news, and breaking it to her was the last thi
Cain's POV “I don't give a damn if you're buying into what we just said or not.” I thundered, and she mildly cowered. Tossing the file aside, I continued. “But what I'm sure about is you wetting your pants when we decide to drag you to court, little girl.” I threatened. Goddamnit! I hated losing control of my emotions like this, but was I supposed to stay put when my bulge was threatening to poke out? Turning away before either of them noticed, I planted my hands at the edge of the desk, slightly hunching my back. “Come on now. I think you've overstayed your welcome.” Marvin gestured towards the door, harshness reeking in his tone as he caught her wrist, pulling her along. “Hey, hey, wait.” Wincing at the discomfort, she futilely struggled to free her arm while stumbling behind him. Just before he thrust her outside, she shouted. “What do you guys want in return?!” I didn't know if that was the right line of questioning from her, but the corners of my ears tipped
Cain's POV Running my fingers through my damp hair, I couldn't care less if my hair was all over the place as I leaned into my 'crowbait' which happened to be my retro swivel chair, like Marvin always called it, my gaze glued to the door. Every movement Marvin did as he twisted the door open, I watched on with a ticking heartbeat until her familiar, lithe figure appeared right in front of my eyes like a too-good-to be -true dream. Blame! Marvin was too slow. With the way my dick hardened as our eyes locked, especially when her pretty low-bridged nose flared up, it made me want to sprint across the table and devour her right there like a sick bastard that I was. I thought she knew how far my obsession went after that fateful night at her dad's cabin 20 years ago, but I guessed the memory was vague to her since she was quite a kid while I was the perverted teenager. “Don't just stand there, or else we might think you came for house cleaning.” Marvin jested, his poker-faced
Marvin’s POV To be honest, as I leaned into the couch of Ashley's house, my knees buzzed at how wrong it all was. Me relaxing into the enemy's couch with no protection whatsoever, a move my dad would have totally blown my head off for if he were still breathing. It took my mind back to twenty years ago when I was first invited into the new neighbor's house. The moment the door opened I was standing face to face with a smiley-faced, blue-eyed, chubby girl who guided me to her room, holding my hand while I blushed like the tiny little boy I was. Not anymore. I mean, after that first day, I had long stopped feeling like a boy from the minute my hand brushed Ashley's soft baby ass. What a little rascal I was with all my fantasies about playing with them until one eventful day, my dad banned from crossing the line of our house to theirs ever again. Back then I had thought it was the end. Maybe she'd outgrow the fat in her ass and turn skinny like in trend these days when y
Ashley's POV I breezed out of the taxi that pulled up in front of my dad's dilapidated cabin, drawing an anxious breath as I shut the car door with a slow push. “Ashley?” Someone called out, and I veered my face towards her direction, the nervousness in my expression fading into a widened smile. The middle-aged lady grinned wider, her sockets popping out in surprise as she approached me with a limp gait, leaning on a cane. “It's really you, my big baby.” She sang, and I ran over, catching her in a tight embrace. “It's so good to see you, Gracie. I missed you…” Stroking Gracie's ash-black hair, I shut her eyes, nuzzling into her arms. “Blake always did say you'd come back to us. But I didn't imagine he wouldn't be here to welcome you home.” Gracie lamented, her muscles tensing up, I had no idea what she meant by that. What I did know was being hell-bent on keeping my promise to my dad that I wouldn't return to Texas until he visited my mom's grave with a flower. He sh
“Look at us, baby, after all this time we find ourselves here. Aren't we inseparable?” His question accompanied an animalistic grunt as the stimulation of their fucked-up situation stirred his cock in her. Alongside, his grip on her going painfully firm, he felt for her pulse as he drove into her. “I hate you.” She whimpered, her tone breaking as a series of moans escaped her lips. As though her words ignited the brute in him, his thrusts heightened, every one of them reaching her deep and prickling her insides. It marveled her how she was still wet down there despite the searing sting. Regardless, she shamelessly basked in the depravity of getting rough handled by her cheating ex-husband. Right then all his wrongs to her dissipated into thin air, and the only feeling she yearned for was the carnal bliss of taking his hungry thrusts, driving her on a delirious journey of lust. “Joe.” Shutting her eyes, her lips quivered as warmth settled at the pit of her stomach, her thighs jer
“Oh my goodness, you motherfucker.” She cussed, getting used to the fullness inside her as it expanded her walls. Biting her lower lips, she slowly rocked her hips, getting in touch with the rhythm of their movement. “I want that soft meat slapping down my cock, sugar girl, like a motherfucker. My own, motherfucker.” He sassed, repeating her favorite slang word as he flattened his palm against the walls, giving her the free rein as usual. Moreover, stimulation came with Joe's trust, the carnal type of trust that encouraged her to take him however she wanted and bring him to his zenith. The trust that made her core tighten up at the sensation of being in charge of his orgasm at that moment. Digging her nails into his wound, she kept eye contact with him as his jaw went rigid with the sting of her touch, and she started moving up and down at a slow, unhurried pace. Meanwhile, continuous sounds of moist skin mashing together emitted in the atmosphere as her luscious thighs sl
“Geez, sugar girl, sometimes you joke too much.” Not even a tinge of humor in his expression, he responded, ignoring the way his traitorous shaft was stirring underneath his pants. Shit, this wasn't the time to be getting aroused. He needed to hold on to his iron control and look away from the enticement of Bailey's offer. Or was it an actual offer or a direct request? The thought filtered through his mind as they kept each other's gazes for a while. With her face scrunching up in irk, she turned away, “What gave you the right to assume I want it with you? So full of yourself, huh?” She huffed, making to get on her feet when he caught her wrist, trapping her between his knees. “Hey, stop overreacting. You're getting mad because it feels like I'm turning you down— “Turning me down?” Bailey cut in, letting out a sharp laugh of mockery. Glaring at him, she snatched her wrist back. “And who exactly do you think you are that I should feel that type of way?” She asked. Running hi