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“Uh huh.”
The grip on my hips tightens. I’m sure I’ll have a few bruises to show in the morning.
He gives me more. And somewhere in between being fucked to death and pure ecstasy, I become aware that something is missing. Something vital, that pertains to my whole reason for being here.
The whine of the cameras.
We’re in near total darkness. He’s not filming this.
So this is for him alone?
The thought pleases me way more than it should. It makes me grip the chair tighter, clench my pussy and slam harder into him.
“Motherfucker,”he growls. His voice is so thick it’s barely coherent.
A smile curves my lips, almost of its own accord. I feel him shudder beneath me, and I grind into him, harder than before. The move resonates deep inside me, the thickness of him hitting me in a spot that makes color explode across my vision.
“Pleased with yourself, are you, my little firecracker?” he drawls after another deep groan.
The sound draws my gaze to his throat, then up to his lips. I want to kiss him. The need pounds me so bad my lips tingle. I lick my tongue across my mouth. “Hmm.” I lower my head, desperate for a taste.
He draws back from me. The move is subtle, but definitive. It causes actual pain to resonate inside me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I push the sensation away, close my eyes and concentrate on other pleasures.
“You don’t want to see me anymore, Lucky?” he taunts. “You don’t like what you see?”
On the contrary, I like it too much. I shake my head. “It’s not that.”
“Open your eyes,” he commands. “You may not want to see me, but I want to see you.”
There’s an odd timbre to his words. A thin layer of cruelty underpinned by…vulnerability. My eyes pop open. His stare is bold and carnal, his dark eyes at odds with his tone.
“I want to see you,” I murmur. My gaze drops to his hard torso. “Touch you.”
“Fuck me?”
My head jerks up and down. “Yes.”
His hands release my hips, fall to his sides. “Fuck me,” he commands. His eyes have taken on a different gleam. “Earn your money. Make me glad I picked you.”
My breath catches at the savage cruelty behind his words. The pain that lances me is deeper, sharper. I don’t know why his words have this power over me, but tears sting my eyes. I blink them away, struggle to regain common sense.
Because he’s right, after all. I’m here to fuck him for a million dollars. Just because the camera isn’t recording us doesn’t mean anything about this is different. I belong to him until I’ve earned my money.
So I fuck him. Stroke his hard, thick length with increasing pumps until I’m bouncing in a frenzied, relentless rhythm. I don’t stop when lust and pain rip through me. I don’t stop when he bares gritted teeth like a shark ready to devour me.
I don’t stop when he reaches around and tugs on the plug, drawing a tortured scream from me. Even when I start to come hard, harder than before…even when he shouts and digs his fingers into my hips once more and his cock ripples along my clenching channel, I don’t stop.
Not until I’m wrung completely dry.
Not until my vision churns through an ocean of color then flames out in a sea of glistening black.
Then everything falls away.
I wake up in a different room. Face down on a bed.