I hated the truth in his words, the way my body betrayed me, clenching around his cock as I neared the edge. But I needed more than just his dick to get me there. As if reading my mind, he reached around, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing tight, slick circles that had me trembling, my moans turning to desperate cries.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, my voice breaking as the tension coiled tighter, a wildfire spreading through my veins. But just as I was about to shatter, he slowed, edging me with cruel precision, his thrusts turning shallow, teasing.
“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out entirely, leaving my pussy aching and empty. Before I could protest, he dragged me away from the balcony, deeper into the club, toward a private room draped in crimson velvet and smelling of leather and sex. The door slammed shut, and he shoved me onto a low, padded bench, my knees hitting the surface as he towered over me, his cock glistening with my juices.
“Strip,” he commanded, his voice a whip crack, and I obeyed, peeling off the bodysuit with trembling hands, exposing my flushed skin, my hard nipples, and the slick mess between my thighs. His eyes raked over me, dark and ravenous, as he reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a pair of steel handcuffs and a leather flogger.
My breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation pooling in my core as he cuffed my wrists behind my back, the cold metal biting into my skin. “You’ve been a bad girl, coming here to toy with me,” he said, his tone deceptively soft as he trailed the flogger’s tassels over my tits, making me shiver. “You need to be punished.”
The first strike landed across my boobs, a sharp sting that morphed into heat, my nipples tightening as I arched with a gasp. He struck again, harder, the pain blooming into pleasure as he leaned down, sucking one aching peak into his mouth, his tongue a wicked contrast to the flogger’s bite. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, my pussy throbbing, desperate for him to fill me again.
He dropped the flogger, grabbing a vibrator from the drawer, its sleek black surface gleaming as he switched it on, the buzz a siren call. “Spread your legs,” he ordered, and I did, shamelessly, my cunt exposed and dripping as he pressed the toy against my clit. The vibration was merciless, sending shockwaves through me, and when he slid his cock back into my vagina, the dual assault had me screaming, my body convulsing as I came apart, my pussy clenching around his dick in violent spasms.
But Damien wasn’t done. He flipped me over, my cheek pressed into the bench as he uncuffed one wrist only to secure it to a hook above, leaving me vulnerable, my ass in the air. He grabbed a bottle of lube, slicking his fingers before circling my asshole, the cool gel a shock against my heated skin. “You’ve never let me take you here,” he murmured, a dark promise in his voice as he eased a finger inside, stretching my tight ring with slow, deliberate pressure. “But tonight, you’re mine in every way.”
I tensed, the intrusion foreign and intense, but the way he worked me, adding a second finger, scissoring me open while his other hand teased my clit, turned my fear to molten need. “Do it,” I gasped, my voice raw. “Fuck my ass, Damien.”
He didn’t hesitate. Coating his cock with more lube, he positioned himself at my tight entrance, pushing in with agonizing slowness, the burn of his thick dick stretching my asshole stealing my breath. “Breathe, baby,” he grunted, his hands gripping my hips as he eased deeper, inch by brutal inch, until he was buried to the hilt. The fullness was overwhelming, a dark pleasure I’d never known, and when he started to move, fucking my ass with shallow thrusts, I shattered again, my cries echoing off the walls as he drove me over the edge.
He came moments later, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot cum deep inside me, his groans a primal soundtrack to our depravity. We collapsed, panting, slick with sweat and sex, the air heavy with the aftermath. But as the haze cleared, I saw the flash drive on the table near his discarded jacket, glinting like a taunt. With a surge of clarity, I realized he’d known why I was here all along—he’d baited me, used my body against me.
I slipped from his grasp, grabbing the drive while he caught his breath, my heart pounding with triumph and dread. “Thanks for the fuck, Damien,” I said, my voice cold as I dressed, clutching the drive like a lifeline. “But I’m done playing your games.”
His laugh followed me out the door, low and dangerous, a promise that this wasn’t over. “Run all you want, Brooke,” he called after me. “I’ll always find you—and next time, I won’t let you go.”