Page 2 of Potent Desire

“Then show me,” Tara gets back on her knees, trying to get closer to me.

I don’t let her. I stop her with a hand against the chest.

“Get on all fours and turn around,” I demand.

Tara’s eyes go wide at the order, but she’s not upset. More intrigued than anything else.

Good, that’s what I need. Obedience.

Once she’s on her knees, I position myself against her. My member slides against her smooth skin, before finding its destination. Tara’s body shudders at my touch. Gripping the base, I line it up with her entrance.

“Oh shit,” Tara whimpers.

I push my tip into her hole. It goes to show, you can always have a little pleasure with business.

I start slow, getting Tara’s sex used to my size. Before long, my thrusting intensifies, and I grab a handful of her hair and pull her head back.

We fuck in silence, only the sound of our meat slapping together and her moans fill the room. I don’t lose sight of my mission, not even while I’m screwing her. As I continue to move in a continuous, fast, and hard rhythm, my hands go to work. They move from her head to the clasp of her necklace. I release it.

She doesn’t ask questions, she’s too lost in the moment. The second the necklace finds a place in my pants’ pocket, is when I know I’m done.

There’s no point stopping myself from slamming in and out of her. I might as well reach satisfaction, before finishing off my father’s dirty work. Taking a firm hold of Tara’s thighs, I pump harder. She whips her head back, choking noises echoing in the barely furnished motel room.

Her tightness squeezes my cock, and with every pump, I feel myself getting closer. Tara collapses forward, her face against the carpet, and a hand between her legs, stroking her clit.

“I’m gonna cum,” she shouts.

So am I. I don’t say it, though. I’ve never been much one for talking during sex. With one final pump, I pull out of her, grab my cock, and stroke it, until I deliver a load all over her back. Tara groans, and grins, looking over at me. Her body’s shaking and so is mine.

Without wasting a second to compose myself, I’m back on my feet, zipping my cock back up. Tara’s still on her back, rubbing her tits and looking up at me.

“That was incredible,” she says, biting her bottom lip.

“Sure,” I reply. I lift my suit jacket from the back of the wooden chair and pull it on.

I lift Tara’s handbag off the floor, pull it open, and start ruffling through the contents.

“What are you doing?” She sits up. There’s concern in her voice, and I can’t say I blame her.

I don’t respond until I have her cellphone and car keys in my hand. I drop her bag back where I found it.

“You try to call your father or to make any plans to leave this place, before morning and there will be trouble,” I say.

“What?” she asks, covering her naked chest with her arms. Suddenly Tara’s uncomfortable about my orders. She should be.

“Do you understand?” I ask. My voice is cold, monotonous.

Her blue orbs sparkle delightful terror, but a nod of her head confirms my request. She’d be foolish not to. After all, I’m the child of a high-ranking family just like Tara is. Only, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty at my father’s order.

This is the game we were born into, where every passing second is a rat race; a fight for survival. We eat the weak and leave nothing but ruin.

I head for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Tara jumps to her feet. “What is this about?”

I decline to answer and grab the doorknob. Before I can turn it, Tara’s hand grabs my shoulder, trying to pull me back towards her. In one quick motion, I slap her hand away, and I grab her face with a cupped hand. Her lips squish together in my grip, making her look like a fish.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, alright?”

I can see the fear in her eyes. Her nervousness is only amplified by my grip. Some grumble of fear erupts in her throat. If her mouth were free, she’d be screaming, now.

I give her a hard push, and she stumbles backward.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks. Her voice is weak and scared. She’s on the verge of tears.

There’s no way to suppress the chuckle that escapes my lips. “Because I’m going to fuck your dad, the way I did you.”

Maybe not the best choice of words, but it’ll do. Before she can ask any more questions, I leave.

I’ve got more important things to do than tend to some bimbo.

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