The Prey - Page 11

“Yeah,” DJ chimed in, pressing his groin into her lower back, his erection hard against her. “And her ass belongs to me.”

The evil slid from Alex’s expression, a mask of smooth, pleasant indifference taking its place. He stepped back and turned toward Wallace. “Of course. You two have your fun, by all means.”

“I’ll let you know when it’s your turn, DJ,” Wallace said with a nasty grin. He stared at Mara with canine eagerness, his tongue appearing on his lower lip. “Come on, girl. Time’s a wasting.”

Grabbing Mara by the arm, he dragged her into the first room along a short hallway. It was a bedroom with a queen bed and a bureau, a large mirror set directly across from the bed, another mirror on the ceiling. Dan closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock. He pocketed the key. As he began to unbuckle his belt, panic kicked like a mule in Mara’s gut. “Please, Mr. Wallace,” she begged, “don’t do this. You have a daughter older than me.”

He looked up from his pants. “So? You’re twenty-six, well over the age of consent.”

“But I don’t consent,” she blurted desperately. “I’m here against my will.” She wrapped her arms around her torso as if that could somehow protect her.

He stared at her a moment, his mouth slack. Then he burst out laughing. “You’ve certainly got spunk, I’ll give you that.” He continued to chuckle. “But your consent isn’t at issue here, girl. You’re property, don’t you get that yet? You’re nothing more than a piece of ass.”

Not bothering to remove his shirt, Dan let his shorts fall to his ankles, revealing a sizable bulge in his black underwear as he stepped out of his flip-flops and let the shorts puddle on top of them. He was still strong and fit, his abs tight, his muscular legs covered in dark curly hair.

“Now, the doc says I can’t fuck you yet, but I definitely want that sweet little mouth of yours on my cock, so get to it, girl. Get on your knees and service me. Use your hands and make sure you swallow.” As he spoke, Dan tugged at his underwear and pulled it down his legs, kicking it away. He placed his hands on his hips, his large, erect cock jutting in Mara’s direction, not a trace of self-consciousness on his face.

Mara stared, frozen in place, as the man’s words ripped through her mind like jagged pieces of glass. “Go on. Get to it,” he demanded, no longer chuckling. He lunged toward her, his hands landing hard on her shoulders and forcing her to her knees.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanked her forward and pressed the head of his cock against her lips. “Open your mouth, damn it,” he snapped, his grip tightening painfully in her hair. “You’re already going to be punished for that stunt with the phone. You want to make it even worse for yourself? Suck my dick, you stupid cunt. Make sure you don’t bite me, or I’ll beat you myself.”

Terrified, Mara parted her lips. Using her hair as a handle, Dan pulled her onto his shaft. He began to thrust back and forth, making her gag each time the head of his cock touched the back of her throat. At least his grip had eased in her hair.

“Your hands,” he urged, still thrusting. “Stroke my nuts.”

Reluctantly Mara reached for the man’s pendulous, hairy balls. As she cupped his ball sac, she squelched the aching desire to crush the man’s testicles in her fist.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah,” Wallace gasped, choking Mara with each increasingly urgent thrust. All at once he stiffened and then shuddered in a series of tiny convulsions, his jism sliding like raw egg whites down her throat. Finally he let her go and fell back against the bed with a satisfied groan.

Mara swallowed several times, trying to get the mushroomy taste of the man’s spunk from her throat. Wallace had his eyes closed. Mara glanced at the door, recalling the key that he’d slipped into the pocket of the shorts now lying on the floor only a foot or so away. Did she dare?

The sound of movement on the bed brought her eyes back to Wallace. He sat up, his self-satisfied smile not unlike the doctor’s after he’d jerked off on her thigh. He regarded her appraisingly and then shrugged. “You could use some work, but hey”—he grinned unpleasantly—“practice makes perfect. Before long, you’ll be able to suck the paint off the side of a barn, little darlin’.” He stood and reached for his underwear, which he pulled on, followed by his shorts.

As he was buckling his belt back into place, he gestured with his head toward a pocket door Mara hadn’t noticed. “Bathroom’s through there if you want to wash your face or whatever. Then wait there on the bed. DJ’ll be along shortly.”

Tags: Claire Thompson Erotic
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