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TWENTY
Cash
I wrap my hand around her ponytail, tugging hard. The pain of my grip encourages her because not only does she moan softly around my cock but she also sucks harder, too.
Fuck.
The feel of her soft lips, the heat of her mouth, the slight scraping of her teeth down my skin… it’s enough to make me blow my load right fucking now. My balls tighten, ready to explode, my eyes wide as I look down on her, anticipating seeing her mouth fill with my cum—and hearing her fucking choke on it.
This girl—thiswoman—is fucking everything, and she doesn’t even realize it.
Ben’s breathing quickens from the bed, the sound of his fist pumping his dick echoes loudly in my ears. It’s like all my senses are heightened, all except taste. That’s when I realize—
“Ineedto taste you.”
Remi pops my dick out of her mouth, licking her swollen lips, bright eyes gazing up at me with desire and something else as well. My gut reaction is to call that something‘submission’, but Remington Radcliffe is not a submissive woman by any means.So what is it then? What am I seeing in her exotic blue eyes that entices me so much?
Maybe it’s not her submission so much as her aversion to it. Throughout my entire life, women have thrown themselves at my feet. It’s incredible how much people sacrifice who they are for what they hope to become. Their very morals are buried, blinded by a disturbed sense of reality and the power my family’s money holds. By getting in my pants, these women hoped to further themselves by hanging onto my coattails.
And for the sake of my cock, I let them believe I would.
My first blow job happened when I was fourteen inside a men’s restroom in a Michelin three-star restaurant. Mum had taken me and Brian there during a celebratory trip to London when she beat cancer for the first time. We arrived in a black, stretch limo, Brian and I dressed in tailored suits, Mum wearing a stunning, beaded dress. I felt like royalty that day, everyone accommodating my every whim. Drinks were poured, Mum even let me have champagne in public, which she usually didn’t do.
We were escorted through the restaurant by its owner, a plump lady in her seventies, bright white hair elegantly curled around a wrinkly face painted with far too much makeup. I remember how I felt, walking behind my parents, enjoying the attention from every woman there. Granted, by the time I was fourteen, I appeared much older. By then, I’d been hitting the gym every single morning for two years, and puberty had shot my height from a short 5’7’’ to a towering 6’1’’.
At least it felt towering then, but I’ve grown even more since.
Remington leans back on her heels, silently awaiting my instruction and pulling me from my thoughts. God, I love the power she so easily handed over to me. It’s worth every fucking prize we found during the scavenger hunt—to have her kneeling at my feet, finally a woman with a little damn self-respect. I like the fact that she doesn’t necessarily want to do this, that she’s offering herself in exchange for something me and Ben have, not to benefit from our money or our names, but for something more personal.
It’s refreshing.
It’s exciting.
It’s making my cock painfully hard.
I take a step back and gesture for her to stand. “Strip for us, lass, and make it fucking good.”
Though she tries to hide her reaction, there’s a flash of anger in her eyes, and her lips pull tight. She’s debating on whether to follow orders or not—and I won’t have that.I want this girl, need her, and I’ll do anything to keep her now that I’ve got her in my clutches. I back up towards Ben, and sit on the edge of the bed. I tuck my dick back inside my boxers and pants before resting my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped before me.
“Surely you want to keep your prize, yes? You were the price of our little bargain, and you agreed to beours—ours to do with and use as we see fit. You will submit to our every demand, every order, every fucking whim, or I’ll use that little map of yours to wipe my ass with the next time I take a shit. So, think long and hard about your next move, because at Bitterwood, every decision you make could be the difference between living and dying.”
And now I sound like fucking Windsor.
From my peripheral vision, Ben sits up, moving next to me, his dick tucked back in his pants as he waits just as eagerly as I do to see her next move. Remington just stares for a moment, looking at us but through us, warring with herself on which route to choose—her dignity or self-preservation.
For a moment I think she’s going to renege on her decision, and if she does, I’ll allow her to leave unscathed. I’m many things, but I’m not a man who has ever had the need to take a woman by force—not unless it’s consensual non-consent. I have too much respect for the woman who raised me to take advantage of a female like that, but if Remington hands me the reins, I’ll consider it consensual and use her body accordingly.
The gorgeous blonde stands and turns to face us, her fists clenched at her sides. Her gaze shifts from me to Ben, and back to me, then she exhales loudly, her eyes closing for a moment. What I wouldn’t give to hear the thoughts racing through her head right now, to learn what she considers the pros and cons of our arrangement.
“We need an answer,” Ben barks, not hiding his impatience. “Or that slip of paper you’ve hidden inside your shoe is mine.” Her inaction spurs Ben, and he stands abruptly, taking a step towards her shoes, his intention obvious.
“Wait.” Remi’s voice wavers slightly and she opens her eyes. “Sit down, Ben.Please.”
The plea in her words has my cock pulsing—fuck, I love it when they beg.
Ben returns to his seat next to me as Remington raises her hands to her blouse, and fiddles with the top button.
I lick my lips and lean back on my elbows. “Smart choice, lass.”
