Torment Me (Rough Love 1)

I snorted. “Why do I have to earn the ‘honor’ of looking on his magnificence? That’s bullshit. He’s the one paying me.”

“I know. Don’t let it get to you. It’s probably just an ego thing.”

Well, W had ego in spades. I hardly knew him, but I knew his ego went far beyond the usual size. Along with his cock.

I heard feminine voices in the background, and Henry’s muffled reply. “Sorry, Chere,” he said. “I have to go.”

“Have fun.” I hung up and buried my face in my hands. For the second time that night, I had to ask myself “What the fuck just happened?” I’d called Henry to complain that W was an abusive, asshole client, and instead I’d signed myself up for a second date. Only to spite him, I told myself. He would have liked Nina so much better. Fucker. He wasn’t getting Nina. He was getting me.

The Viceroy Session

The Viceroy was one of my favorite hotels. So classy, so elegant. It felt wrong to show up there braless, in the casual amber-beige dress W had bought me. But if he was going to cut shit off me, it was going to be his own shit he’d purchased.

I mean, fuck, I shouldn’t have even been here. I should have let Nina come instead and do her thing. I could have handed off the eye mask to her. Instead I was fastening it onto my own eyes and knocking on the door. We were high in the air, nineteenth floor. Would have been nice to actually see the view, instead of dark leather blackness. Unlike the first time, I didn’t smile when he opened the door.

“Chere,” he said. He sounded happy to see me, and gruff at the same time. How did he do that? He smelled the same as I remembered, with that enticing, understated cologne. He pulled me inside and shut the door, and pushed me back against it. Then he was kissing me, not a polite, welcome-back kiss, but a hard, commanding kiss that pushed my head back against the wood. My bag fell from my grasp and hit the floor. His fingers were on my jaw, my chin, my braless breasts.

“Nice dress,” he murmured. “It looks good on you.”

He trapped my wrists behind my back with one hand, and tugged the hemline up with the other. I wasn’t wearing panties because I didn’t want him to have the joy of ripping them off again. But he seemed to find just as much joy in groping my bare pussy.

Thirty seconds into this date, my pussy was full of his fingers and my mouth was full of his tongue. I didn’t normally kiss clients but he didn’t leave me much choice. At least he was a good kisser. I could tell he’d brushed for me, or had a mint. I was pinned against the door by his big, and yes, tall body. I wanted to see him so badly. If I just yanked off the blindfold…

Ohh, damn. He’d found my clit.

I danced a little and pulled at my wrists where he held them. He stopped fondling me and gave a mocking laugh. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t know if you’d agree to a second date.”

I sagged against the door, hating how easily he worked me up. “I needed the money,” I said.

He laughed louder this time, and his laugh sounded as cool and mean as my words. “You aren’t here for the money. Not this time. You’re here because you want me, you lying piece of shit. Don’t be precious.”

“Don’t call me a piece of shit,” I snapped back.

He pushed my dress higher and tugged it over my head, being careful not to dislodge the mask. As soon as I lowered my arms, my wrists were gathered behind my back. “No, not the—” I protested.

Zip ties. Grr.

“I don’t trust you any farther than I can throw you,” he said. “You get the zip ties for now.”

“You’re a freak. It doesn’t have to be this way. I can do so many wonderful things with my hands.” I drew out the word sooo to hint at endless, sensual possibilities.

His only response was another laugh. “I think your hands are wonderful bound behind your back. I’m the consumer in this relationship, and you’re the product, and if I want to zip tie your ankles to your neck for the next four hours, I goddamn will.”

Ugh, not a nice picture. “You only hired me for two hours,” I said. “And I don’t think that sounds very safe.”

“I think it’s time we shut you up. Get on your knees, Chere.”

I felt extra naked as I obeyed, since my vision was obscured. I had no idea what the room looked like or if anyone besides W was there. What if he was taping this? What if he was streaming it live to five million people? Maybe he was some porn kingpin. He certainly had money. The Viceroy wasn’t cheap, and my services weren’t cheap, and even the plain, casual dress he’d bought me wasn’t cheap.