Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

I didn’t move a muscle as he stepped towards me, eyes wide on his like I was staring at heaven.

“I’m going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m going to hurt you so fucking bad you’ll beg for mercy.” Another few steps and he was in front of me. The heat from his suit prickled my skin. “And this is just the beginning,” he whispered. “Believe me, it gets a whole lot worse.”

He tugged his tie free at the knot and I couldn’t hold back the whimper. He took my wrists in his with such strength I cried out a little, pinching my lip in my teeth as he bound them tight. His tie was soft. Burgundy silk so dark it was almost black. It didn’t make the bindings gentle in any way. My wrists were tied so tight I could barely move them, my fingers wriggling on instinct just to make sure I still had feeling.

His breath was in my face when his hands snaked up to pinch my nipples. I’m sure he could hear my heartbeat as I hitched my breath against his.

“If that sad little boy from the beach touches these tits again before I’m done with them, I swear it’ll be the last thing he fucking touches,” he hissed, and my eyes opened wide. “Nobody comes into my world for sixty days with any losers clinging on outside. I suggest you abstain from a lunchtime hook-up next time he asks.”

“How did you…” I began, but he pinched harder. So much harder.

“I have contacts,” he snarled. “As I hope I’m making clear, I know every fucking thing. Don’t ever forget it. Every move you make I’ll be in the shadows. Every word you speak will be in my ear before you can fucking blink.”

My tits were wanting in the face of the fear. I pulled my shoulders back to offer him more.

“Hungry for punishment,” he said. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll get more than your fill.”

His fingers dug into my flesh and pressed deep, rolling the meagre little nubs of me tight to my ribcage hard enough that I screwed my eyes shut.

“I mark what’s mine,” he told me, and the devil on my shoulder danced. “Until the day your dues are paid, this body of yours belongs to me.”

I could smell the whisky on his breath. I wanted to taste it on his lips, but didn’t dare make the slightest move.

“Call this a trial run,” he said, and I nodded.

When his palm landed on my tit it struck so hard that I started. My skin was burning when he slapped the other, nipples hard as he flicked at them before landing another two painful slaps on top.

“These are pretty little things,” he told me. “Hurting them will be a pleasure.”

Another two slaps and I rocked on my feet. The next two had me whimpering.

“Eyes open,” he said, and squeezed my cheeks in his fingers until I stared up at him.

The next four slaps were harder, my eyes threatened to water as I held back my cries.

I couldn’t hold it back for much longer as he kept going, whimpering as I hunched my shoulders, but still he kept up the rhythm. Over and over and fucking over.

It hurt.

Smarting. Burning. Stinging.

But it was a good pain. A pain that made my heart sing.

I hated how much I wanted more.

He rolled my nipples between his fingers as I tried to catch my breath.

“One day, sweet little Paige, I’m going to bite you so fucking hard I’ll leave teeth marks on you for days,” he hissed and my stomach lurched over itself. “But not tonight. Tonight is just a taster.”

I couldn’t stop myself staring at his mouth. His teeth. The perfect shape of his lips.

I couldn’t stop the flutter between my legs. The ache of my depraved clit as it begged for relief.

“You can bite me tonight,” I offered. “I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever you want… sir.”

His laugh was low. Embarrassment burned.

“Oh sweetheart, I admire your enthusiasm. But believe me, when I savage those pretty little tits the whole seedy fucking underworld will be watching. You’ll be hurting and they’ll be paying, just the way it should be.”

“And what about this?” I asked him. “What is this? Why aren’t they watching this?”

“Because this is all mine,” he said. “Cash out of my own fucking pocket for my own fucking pleasure. I’m simply being careful about breaking in the goods too soon.” He tugged on my nipples so hard I fell into him. He held me there, bound wrists pinned between us as he fisted his hands in my hair. “Plus this is punishment,” he added. “If you ever ask any questions about me again, you’ll be taking it for free.”

How I wished he’d kiss me.

My lips were open. Begging for it. Begging for him.