Page 2

Chapter

Two

PIPER

Listen. When a man walks into a club wearing a black mask, you fuck him. It’s like a cardinal rule of sex. Or it should be.

Put it in Piper’s Rules of Life , number one sixty-nine.

Right after, “sit on daddies’ laps and make them spank you.”

The problem is, I can’t seem to follow a rule for the life of me. Not only that, but it’s almost an innate need for me to not do what someone tells me. Especially if he’s a man and big and broad with thighs like the one I’m straddling.

Any other Friday night, I’d probably grind my pussy on him. Get him to slap me around a bit, ruin his night with a good fight at the end, laugh it off, then drown out the rest of the night in whatever cheap wine is left in my mini fridge.

Tonight, though, things have been wrong .

First was the fight with my mother. Not that it’s unusual for her to tell me what a waste of a daughter I am, but it certainly thrust me into coming here once I forced Tarin to give me the location. Next was my sister calling me right after to rub the salt in, but in doing so, she said the forbidden name. The one she’s not allowed to say around me.

The one that made me pop a cork, down three glasses of red, scream from my balcony, get out my old trusty box cutter and make one tiny, tiny scratch on my upper thigh, text Tarin that I wanted to get back together, then show up here and become enraged that she was flirting with the man in the mask…

And deciding I would fuck him before she could.

It’s only fitting. After I ate her shaved pussy the last time, she told me she wished she could find a guy just like me. All with a toss of her long, brunette hair, like she had all the confidence in the world to say it because she’s pretty.

That was it. Flames across my face, I was going to show up and give her a piece of my mind. But then I decided to ruin her instead.

My usual modus operandi is to take what I want when I see it.

Except for this guy…

The mask is throwing me off. That’s all it is. Or his soothing cedar musk. Maybe because he’s so very huge , he could slay all my demons. Even the ones buried so deep inside of me, emotional vultures won’t be able to pick at them. These covered eyes peer at my face as if they see them all. He seems dangerous. For the first time since forever, I feel afraid.

What if he actually sees me?

If I lie to the mask, then my mother’s testimony will come true. I’ll truly be nothing, mean nothing, and never get any better. Life will be me screwing it up on repeat. And it can’t be. Not if I want to truly live.

“Please tell me to do something. You have to make me. Force me,” I plead with him. If he doesn’t evoke some feeling inside of me, I think I may cease to exist.

“It’s Daddy Don. And you need to sit up like a big girl. Put your back against my chest.”

The alcohol must make me slow enough that he loses patience and grabs my waist to spin me around and set me right back down on the firm rod under his slacks. It’s so long, it slots up my back between the crevice of my ass. As if he’s not done making me his doll, he spreads my thighs wide over his. My dress slides all the way up to my hips until I’m fully exposed to everyone nearby.

Nakedness never bothered me, and though I came here to do everything right in front of Tarin, I didn’t expect the shock I’d feel as the cool atmosphere hits my bare cunt. All the old men in front of us turn around and gape at me, like I’m a freak sideshow.

When I squirm on daddy’s lap, he smacks my outer thigh with his open palm. The sting makes me gasp. “Sit still. Behave. Let all these men see what a naughty little girl I have over here.”

Instead of withdrawing his hand, he slips it toward my center, every hint of movement sending electric sparks down my legs. Just as I think he’ll touch me, he leaves his finger hanging in the air, the heat of it hovering outside my pussy lips. I arch my back into him and his rough mask rubs against my neck. His deep voice vibrates the plastic as he moans. “Ah, ah. I’ll do what I want with you. No hurrying this, Rosy. I bet your pussy is just as red as your cheeks right now. Let them see how much.”

One man standing in front of us bends at a ninety-degree angle to get a better look, though the rest of the group gives us a respectful ten feet or so of space. The way the man in front peeks at me with such hunger makes my belly twitch with revulsion.

“Never seen a pussy before?” I yell, and a sharp smack lands on my soaked cunt. Lurching forward, I cry out, more from surprise than anything.

“I don’t deal with brats well. So mind your manners. These men paid for a show, and they want to see it.”

A few of the guys chuckle and point, making embarrassment stain my flesh. Not sure why. I’ve had sex in front of people before. But losing all my control like this while ten older men stand and watch me lose my shit? It’s just not the same.

With a volley of my shoulders, I inch away. “Never mind. I don’t want to play.”

When I try to stand, Daddy Don grips my wrist and pulls me until I trip on my six-inch heels and tumble back into his chest. He gathers me up in a cradle hold and presses the mask against my cheek.

His sweet whiskey breath seeps from underneath it as he murmurs, “You’re not going anywhere unless you say a safe word. Tell me what that is.”

How does he make me melt into him? He’s the scariest man here, but I feel the most comfortable with his arms surrounding me like they are now, like a shield against the crowd that’s thankfully losing interest. “Victor Vain.” If I had to name him, that’s who he’d be. A real boss ass, not a Don .

“Victor Vain it is. Now. Settle down and daddy will finger you in front of these horny men. Would you like that, Rosy?”

My face hovers over his, still hidden by the mold of the mask. A sharp inhale passes through his mouth hole when I edge myself closer, trying to get a peek behind it. As I press my lips against his fake ones, a tickle of a tongue edges through to wet my mouth. I leave behind a pink stain of lipstick when I back up, making him look more like a clown than a creature of the night. “Yes.”

Swiftly, those big hands put me back into position, slapping my thighs wide as his finger dances across my clit. “You feel this?” he asks, pressing deeper between my folds. At first, I think he’s talking about how very wet I am, but his hips jut up into my backside and worry surges through me.

I’ve been with men. A few. More women than anything, but the weapon he’s pressing against me is larger than something I’ve seen before. And I am not a big person. I don’t even bother with dildos, preferring the company of a good clit sucker. But I let my ass caress the length of it as I twerk on him once or twice.

“Yeah?” Tossing my short pink hair back, I let the word slip out casually. Like his dick is so not a big deal. I’m fucking lying. It’s huge and he could probably use it as a bat to hit home runs.

He flattens one palm against my abs to tug me back into his chest while the other finally dives inside me, forcing a whimper from my parted lips. “You’re gonna be a good little girl and take care of your daddy tonight.”

Everything he says sends shivers down my spine and makes floodgates open inside of me, which will soon be dripping onto his lap. My hands clutch the thick muscles of his thighs until they twitch beneath my hold.

When the heel of his palm strikes my clit, I grip his wrist and ride his hand. He adds a second finger and rubs harder, dipping the digits in and out in a steady rhythm. Curling them up, he hits a spot that makes white lights dance before my eyes, and I toss my head back into his shoulder. I’m a mess of whimpers and wetness, soaking his hand and sleeve.

“Please…” Delirium has taken over my brain. I don’t even recognize my voice anymore. A wanton demon takes over as daddy does insane things to my insides.

“Let go, Rosy. Let daddy have control of your body. I want you to come just for me. Show me what a big girl you are.”

Fuck! His words make me into one of those Stepford wives. Ready and willing to obey him. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to turn everything off and just listen to his voice. Do exactly what he says. It would keep other thoughts away. Bad thoughts. If I could just focus on his orders, maybe I wouldn’t feel like my mind was split into a million pieces all the time.

Women know how to fuck me with their tongues, with their hands. Hell, even scissoring is amazingly fun. Guys just don’t get it, often needing to be shown exactly what to do and how to do it. But this man is something else. Like he went to school for fingering and graduated cum loud . Because that’s exactly what I do.

A scream erupts from my chest as I press into him, head thrown back onto his shoulder. His breath, heat, strength, force, muscle, and a heavy scent of masculinity surround me, only adding to the moment of bliss. When I crumble in his hold, his fingers still buried deep inside my pussy, his cock throbs with urgency underneath me.

Gathering my breath, his hand continues to caress me with little circles on my inner thigh. His hold soothes me like a weighted blanket. My mind becomes a blank emptiness of serenity…

“Such a good girl. Now it’s time to take care of your daddy. Stand up.”

Part of me thinks about leaving. I got off. Why should I return the favor?

But that feeling, the fervent automaton vibe he gave me while commanding me to come, is the same one that has me on my heels in front of him without an argument. With my hands on his shoulders, I steady my stance as he stands.

Oh my god. He’s a giant. Like a literal one. I have to take two steps back just to look at his face. “Kneel and take out my cock.”

A quick glance over my shoulder shows an empty bar. Tarin is nowhere to be found. Most of the men have dispersed. Feigned confidence helps my posture grow to its full, tiny height until I lift my chin and smile. My palm lands on his broad chest, and I give it a pat of assurance. “No, but thanks for the orgasm. That was fun. Goodnight.”

Hope that he’ll let me go grows as big as my eyes when I spin on one shoe and face the entrance of the club. But before my foot can take a step forward, large hands grip my bony shoulders, and I bite my lip, knowing it won’t be easy.

“Ah, ah, Rosy. Need another spanking to show you who your daddy is?” Baritone waves travel through his reverberating chest, catching my ears as he speaks. I freeze, but quickly snap out of it.

Slyly, I wiggle away from him and shimmy in a half turn to look up into that mask one last time. “Nah. I’m good. It was fun, but I’m bored now, Victor Vain.”

Tossing my hair out of my eyes, I dance toward the exit and glance at the bar. Tarin must have been watching the entire show, and her eyes narrow at me as she lifts a double of amber-colored liquid onto a tray. Happy that my plan seemed to have worked, I turn around before I give her a smug grin.

I reach for the door with a smirk pulling at my lips, but then pause and lean around it to look back at where I left Daddy Don. Irritation riles up my blood as I spot Tarin sidle up to him, his hand brushing her arm gently to take his drink. As if he’s checking that I’m gone, his mask peeks where I stand near the door.

I give him the finger. Asshole . Couldn’t even wait one minute until I left before daddying another girl. Typical.

Rage lights me up like wildfire inside. Tarin must have to find some self-worth on his dick this evening. Fine. If they’re both too busy to notice me leaving, then I’ll help myself to her unattended station. It only takes a moment for me to glance around the industrial-looking bar before I slip behind it. Lifting onto my tiptoes, I reach for a top-shelf tequila, then bend and scurry toward the door before anyone says anything.

I tuck the bottle under my arm and bust out of the entrance with a confident stride past the bouncer. With an air of nonchalance, I call out, “Goodnight.”

“Miss?” he asks, but I keep moving. “Ma’am. Stop.”

When I take off in a sprint, my high-heel snaps, and I yelp in pain. While hopping on one foot, I kick the shoe at him, then the other with a hushed curse. As I dart away, I pull out my phone from my bra shelf and hurriedly scan for the rideshare app, slipping behind a different building while my pulse pounds powerfully.

My eyes scan the darkness around me, looking for signs of my perpetrator, while my thumb scrolls through the available drivers. His footsteps near, but so does a crowd coming in from the parking lot. Hmm, a bachelor party?

I stumble near them, falling dramatically into the arms of one of the younger guys. Fortunately, he catches me. “Whoa! Are you okay?”

Sniffling, I point the bottle of tequila toward the club. “There’s a guy chasing me. I’m trying to get away, but my ride isn’t here.”

His gaze lifts to his buddies, who all look like it’s a terrible idea for him to say what I think he’s about to. Hell, even he looks like he doesn’t want to, but has to. Maybe he has an overbearing mother. Or strict religious upbringing. Whatever it is works in my favor when he releases a little sigh and grunts out, “Need me to take you home?”

Neil is a perfect gentleman during the trip to my apartment. He even declines the tequila shot I offer him as I down some from the cap first (like a genuine lady), then the bottle, after it’s clear he doesn’t want to fuck. Rejected by this mid guy and the hot daddy in the club. It hasn’t been a great night for Piper.

If I checked deep inside of myself, which I won’t, the dismissal by Daddy Don hurts worse than I care to admit.

When I hoist myself from my seat and onto the curb, I tap the roof of Neil’s car and thank him with an air kiss.

I lean heavily on the stair wall as I stumble up the old rickety wooden steps to my second story studio. The painted wood is cold on my bare feet.

Keys…

Keys! Fuck.

Gently tiptoeing to the window at the end of the hall, I dig my hand inside the faux bamboo tree to find a spare buried in the strings of plastic grass. Another swig from my victory bottle gives me the strength to shuffle back to my door and kick it open.

Freckles mewls like he hasn’t been fed in days , but his kibble is still sitting in the dish on the kitchen island. “And the one in the living room is still full, too. Ugh!”

He follows me and continues the dramatics while lacing between my legs as I step to the fridge. “Fine, fine, fine.”

After I scoop some leftover wet food into his bowls, I grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with the burning goodness. My mind is that comfortable level of numb, and the heat from the liquor makes me feel invincible. I untie my dress and let it fall off my naked body, then flop onto my sofa bed. The springs release aching groans in reply, similar to how I’m feeling.

The alcohol hasn’t killed my anger. It sits there, glowing like an ember waiting for enough oxygen to make it spark into flames. With a huff, I flip onto my back and text Tarin.

Me

hope daddy dildo knocks you up and won’t leave his wife for you

Tarin

U stole our tequila. You can’t come back here, Piper.

Me

no one wants your dusty old snatch anyway, T.

hope the abortion hurts

When I try to text her again in five minutes, it says undelivered…like she blocked me. The bitch blocked me.

I tip up the bottle until it flows onto my face. The hand wrapped around its neck falls onto the thin mattress as I close my eyes, nearing a serene level of blackout. I turn onto my side, just in case. Like I care so much about living. But I do have standards for how I want to go out and choking on my own vomit is not it.

As I succumb to that sweet surrender, my breathing shallow and apathetic, I have a troublesome thought.

I need to find the man in the mask and break him.