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He reaches for my hair again, pulling it so I fall forward toward him. My mouth slides over his cock just as he cums for me. Long, sticky streams of cum shoot from his cock into my mouth and slide down my throat. I swallow all of it because I know it’s what he wants. I know that’s what guys like Ian demand. He’s not going to put up with a girl who tries to spit out cum.

Not that I’d ever do that.

I wouldn’t.

So I swallow all of it. More and more of his come slides from his throat and into my open mouth. My jaw starts to ache because his orgasm seems to last an eternity.Damn.

If every time with Ian is going to be like this, then I’m going to be a totally exhausted, totally worn out woman by the time we’re done with whatever this thing between us is. I don’t really want to call it a fling. It’s not a relationship. That much is for damn sure. He doesn’t love me or like me. He probably doesn’t think about me very much when I’m not around.

In these moments, though, I can’t help but feel like I’m somehow lucky.

I can’t help but feel like everything that’s happening in my world is powerful and incredible and just damn fantastic. Ilikefeeling like this. Ilikeknowing that he’s using my body, filling my holes with his cum. Coupling that with the fact that he’s basically giving me a mission and I’m all but smitten.

Don’t start liking this guy.

My inner-voice has always been much more nuanced and in control than me, and that’s the voice that tells me not to start feeling like I belong to him. I shouldn’t start feeling like the two of us have anything special going for us. He’s not that kind of person. He’s not that kind of guy.

He doesn’t get attached. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t fall for women.

He noticed me, though.

I finish swallowing his cum and he slides his finger over the tip of his cock. There’s a little droplet of white cream there and he holds it out to me. I slip his finger between my lips without him even having to tell me to. I know what it is that he wants from me and I’m happy to give it to him.

I swallow and then look up at him, silently wondering whether he’s going to let me cum, too. Don’t I deserve an orgasm? After all, I’m the one he was hitting. I’m the one who has to go steal a phone, but I already know when he looks at me that the answer is going to be no.

He shakes his head as he watches me.

“No orgasm for you today, pet. Not until you do as you’re told.”

Bitterness fills my heart, coupled with irritation and...rejection? Is that how I feel? I do, I realize. I feel a little bit rejected because I did something dirty and raunchy andrawfor him and he’s flat-out telling me he’s not going to make me cum.

The last time the two of us were together, there were incredible orgasms involved. In fact, he gave me the best orgasm I’d ever had in my entire life. I’m pretty sure his own release was just as fantastic as mine, if not better.

“Don’t cry, Rose.”

His words are firm. I don’t even realize I’m actually tearing up until he says that to me. Reaching up, I swipe away one of the tears. There’s a slight chance that I might be something of a baby if I can’t even handle this little rejection. It might not even count as an actual rejection. It’s just that I’m not getting something that I want, and oh, I really, really want it.

“Be a good girl,” he tells me. The car is slowing down, I realize. We’re almost back to the shelter. “Put your bra back on. Your shirt, too.”

Somehow, my body seems to move of its own accord, and I manage to get dressed. I’m not totally sure how I’m doing it. It’s like I’m a robot and I’m just doing what I’m told because it’s what I’m used to.

And I am.

I’musedto obeying orders.

Maybe that’s why Ian has chosen me. Out of all of the girls he could have selected for these dumb little interactions, he had to come find me. I’m his boss’ daughter, though. What better way to say “fuck you” to my dad than to fuck with me?

I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do now. The car pulls to a stop in the back of the parking lot. At least Ian is discreet. Most of the employees will be too busy working to pay attention to a random car at the back of the lot. They won’t see me get out or wander inside.

Hopefully, they’ll won’t see me trying to swipe Lorenzo’s phone, either.

I still don’t know what Ian wants it for. Maybe he’s going to use it to text someone or perhaps he wants to plant tracking software. Both of those sound like reasonable options in my head, but as I look up at Ian, his expression darkens. I realize that I don’t really know him at all. I don’t know what he’s capable of and I certainly don’t know what he’s going to do with the stupid phone.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow,” he tells me. It’s the first time he’s ever promised a time to see me. I’m not sure whether I should be excited or not. Should I run home and try to pick out the perfect outfit so I can make him happy? Or should I act normal, like nothing strange is going on at all?

I nod, not really sure what else there is to say now. I can’t tell him I’ll miss him or that I like him or that I’ll see him soon. Our relationship is far too fucked up for any of those weird greetings, anyway. Instead, I just turn and open the car door. I step out, straightening my clothes, and then I make a beeline for the front office.

The shelter will still be open for a few more hours, so there’s plenty of time for me to act normal and calm down before I go home. I have lots of time and lots to do, so at least I won’t be sitting around twiddling my thumbs.