Bayou Bruiser
“Daddy licked my pussy so good,” I whine against his shoulder. “I want it all the time. Please. Please. I’ll be a good girl.”
His chest is heaving beneath me, his erection so stiff and swollen, I can barely slide it out of my flesh and sink it back inside. I’m practically stuck. But Benny grabs my hips in a punishing grip and helps me, his eyes almost black with lust. “You don’t have to be a good girl to earn this tongue. It serves you, baby. Only Fawn.” His big hand slaps my right buttock sharply, blowing sparks across my vision. “You better demand it.”
I nod dutifully, my hips picking up the pace. And when I find an angle where his steel flesh rubs against my clit, I go faster, faster, moisture coursing down my thighs, that telltale fluttering of oncoming relief back in my tummy, making me crazy. “Lick me every day, every hour,” I whine against his mouth. “Wherever we are, pull my panties down and lick me.”
“I’m coming for that asshole next,” he bites off, flipping me over onto my back and ramming himself deeper than ever before, so deep I feel his presence everywhere. I’m consumed by him. I’m beneath my giant, slipping up and back on the marble floor, his chest chafing my skin, my legs pushed open by insistent hands and I never want to stop. Never. “I’m coming, little girl. All up in that tight fuck hole. You wrecked me. Goddamn.”
When he stiffens on top of me, groaning brokenly, his body shaking uncontrollably, I find my paradise, too. I gasp at the intensity of it, how the pleasure wraps around me and squeezes, turning my thighs to jelly, my femininity constricting around him as he spurts, unloading inside of me in an endless, violent rampage. All I can do is lay there and take those final, desperate drives of his body into mine, legs limp, conquered.
Benny has only pulled me into his arms, cradled me and started to rock me…
When we hear a sound out in the house. Outside of the bathroom.
His muscles stiffen, lips peeling back in a snarl.
“Maybe it’s one of the animals?” I ask, somehow knowing it isn’t.
Benny stands and crosses the bathroom quickly to the shower stall, setting me down inside, behind a partial tile wall. “Stay here. Don’t come out for any reason.”
He kisses me hard while fastening his pants. And then he reaches above my head, toward a shelf holding a stack of folded towels—and he takes out a gun.
“Who’s there?” Benny barks, moving toward the door with the gun raised, in a stance that leaves no room for doubt that he is well versed in carrying a weapon. Using it.
“It’s just me, Benny,” calls back a voice I don’t recognize. “It’s Frank. We’re due a talk, it seems. Boss to employee. I took the liberty of making us some coffee.”
Benny’s shoulders stiffen and his eyes find me in the bathroom mirror. There is fear there. Frank has been in the house long enough to know Benny isn’t alone. He’s heard my voice. Heard a lot more than that, really. There’s no point in hiding me.
“Go ahead and bring the girl out with you,” drawls Frank. “If you took her as collateral—which is against the rules, as you well know—then she technically belongs to me. And ooh boy, does she sound like a feisty one. I’ll be taking her with me.” He chuckles. “Think I can get her to call me Daddy, too?”
I’ve never seen a man transform so quickly.
My sweet giant turns into berserker in the blink of an eye. So much violence floods into his expression that the whites of his eyes turn red.
Sensing he’s about to break his promise to me, I shake my head. “No. Benny—”
But it’s too late. He kicks open the door and aims the gun, firing a shot straight into the chest of the man standing on the other side. The blast echoes in my ears, making them ring. I stand in a daze for a slow-motion moment, watching the blood pour from the man’s chest. He coughs and another spray of blood paints his chin in a fine mist—and that’s when my trance is broken. That’s when I wrap myself in a towel with shaking hands, throw open the bathroom window, climb out and run. Away from the violence.
Away from the man whose life is so intertwined with murder that I was an idiot to think he could ever truly give it up.
Chapter Seven
Benny
I lower the gun and stare down at my boss. He has dropped to the floor of my living room and slumped sideways, clutching at his chest, wheezing for air. Do I feel a hint of sympathy? No. When he claimed that he would be taking Fawn with him and…and touching her, touching what’s mine…he signed his death warrant.