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She nodded. “Elaine.”

I smirked at her. She’d be a fun conquest.

“Get on your knees and crawl to me.”

She paused. Scared.

“I said, get on your fucking knees and crawl to me.”

She dropped down, a beautiful contrast against the black marble floor tiles, and did as she was told. My dick was straining in my pants as she reached my feet and stared up at me with those sweet blue eyes.

“How old are you?” I asked, and her eyes stayed fixed on mine.

“Eighteen, sir.”

“Have you ever taken cock before?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“No, sir.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“More convincing than that.”

She nodded harder. “Yes, sir! Please, sir!”

“Show me,” I said. “Show me how much you want to be fucked by Lucian Morelli.”

I sat down in my leather armchair, and she hovered on her knees, not sure what the hell she should be doing. I liked that. I liked the nerves bristling through her slender little body.

She couldn’t pass for Elaine Constantine, but I’d have fun making her try.

I clicked my fingers. “Come here and show me how horny you are for me, little girl.”

Once again, she did as she was told. She positioned herself between my legs and tugged the white lace down over her tits. Sweet little nubs, ripe to be bitten. She flicked at her own nipples and squeezed her flesh. They were small. Cute. Not as big as Elaine Constantine’s, but still aching to be hurt.

“Sit down and open your legs for me,” I said, “Show me how eager your pussy is.”

She sat back on the tiles, lifted the slip of lace and opened her legs. Her pussy was shaved and glistening. A sweet little innocent slit.

“Play with that pretty wet clit, little one,” I told her. “But don’t you dare put your fingers inside.”

Her quivering hands told me my instruction was redundant. She wouldn’t be putting any fingers inside herself. I doubted anything had ever been inside that delicious little pussy of hers.

I could see her mind whirring, and there was something about this little one. Something I hadn’t seen for a while. Something that reminded me of Elaine Constantine far more than her blonde beauty ever could.

Curiosity.

The girl was curious.

“Talk to me,” I whispered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Still, she was nervous, but there was a fresh flash of curiosity in her eyes.

“They say you are . . .” she paused. “They say it’s . . . good . . . that it can be good . . .”

“Who says so?”

“The other girls,” she said. “They say you make it hurt . . . but they say it’s good . . . they say it’s really good . . .” She dropped her eyes to the floor. “They say you’re really good.”

I leaned forward and crushed her cheeks in my hand, tipping her face side to side. She was a beauty. I hadn’t had one this pretty for a while.

“I always make my girls come,” I told her. “Give yourself over, and I’ll make you come for me. I promise you’ll hurt, and hurt plenty, but you’ll want it. You’ll be begging for more by the time I’m through with you.”

The curiosity was burning all the brighter in her when her fingers started working on her clit.

The girl wasn’t innocent on that score. Her fingers were far too skilled.

My mouth was watering and my cock was throbbing as I watched her tease herself, my fingers desperate to plunge inside and stretch her open.

“Tell me you want to find out how it feels to be hurt and fucked,” I hissed, and she let out a whimper.

“I want it, sir. Please.”

It seemed Rex had delivered me a good little slut.

“Get on my lap,” I said, and she eased herself up, spreading her legs nice and wide over mine as she climbed on.

I tugged the white lace lower over her tits, and squeezed them hard, flicking the little nubs with my thumbs.

“Do you know much about pain, sweetheart?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “A little.”

“What do you know about pain?”

Her eyes were so raw. “My stepdaddy used to beat me when I was a little girl. With his belt. He said it would make me a good girl.”

“Did it make you feel like a good girl?”

She shook her head. “No.”

My mouth was watering. “I’ll make you feel like a good girl with my belt, sweet thing, I promise you.”

Her mouth was dry. I could see her trying to swallow. “I’d like that, sir. I’d like to be a good girl for you.”

I squeezed her tits harder, making her grimace.

“Pain is a beautiful thing. It makes your body sing and brings you to life. Ironic really, that you feel most alive when you’re about to die, isn’t it?”

Fear flashed in her eyes, and I laughed. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re not going to die. You’re very safe with me tonight, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

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