Page 29 of Ryker

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Dmitri stares up from my desk monitors as I enter my office. “She didn’t last very long.”

“Do they ever?” Yanking on my bow tie, I head to the bathroom, desperate to scrub last night off me. “Can you have the kitchen staff bring her up a high protein meal, water, and chocolates?”

Not bothering to wait for his answer, I kick the door shut and lean against the counter. I barely recognize myself this morning.

“Fuuuck.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I slip into an old memory…

“The trick is to keep them so satisfied, they’re too exhausted to keep track of the time, and you.”

“How do I do that?” I shove the hair out of my face for the tenth time since I’ve been in here. It’s getting too long. Tonight, maybe I’ll chop it myself with the kitchen scissors. Or shave it.

“First,” Natalie says, “you must learn to use that tongue of yours better.” She spreads her legs while I stand across from her. “Start practicing, Ryker.”

I swallow the bile rising in my throat and stare at the escort’s pussy. Natalie lives in the same building as me, and always wears nice clothes, and has her hair and nails done. I bit the bullet and asked her if she could help me. She said yes.

Now here we are.

I stand on her wooden table, my combat boots landing heavy on the wood. Staring down at her, I wish I felt intimidating, but her non-reaction tells me I’m not. I step down on the other side and position myself between her legs. My jaw aches from how much I’ve clenched it. My stomach is in knots because I’m ashamed and hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning but what little food is left in my house isn’t for me.

I have to learn how to make money fast, and this is the best way. I mean, I’ve eaten girls out before. I like pussy. I just don’t like Natalie’s waxed up cunt. She’s twenty-six and I’m sixteen, even though I told her I was eighteen. Most guys my age would give their left nut for a chance to be with a skilled slut like her. I should be grateful she’s willing to be with me at all.

“Stop overthinking it, Ryker, and get on your fucking knees like a good boy.”

Hate and anger consume me until my vision darkens. I drop to my knees, wanting nothing more than to smack that smirk off her face. But what would that say about me? No man should raise a hand to a woman. Ever.

Besides, she’s doing me a favor.

I need money and she’s going to teach me how to make it.

“See this?” Natalie runs her finger over her slick pussy and spreads her lips, exposing her clit and fuckable hole. “This is where you need to concentrate your efforts.”

“I know how to tongue fuck, and I know where the goddamn clit is.” The smell of her cunt makes me hard and nauseous all at once. “This isn’t my first time.”

“Women are different than girls, Ryker. We expect more. We demand more. If you want me to teach you how to get the most bang for their buck, you better do exactly as I say.”

My throat tightens, and it hurts to swallow.

“Now eat me like a good boy, so I can teach you how to improve.”

Humiliation makes me shiver as I lower my face down and make her orgasm in less than ten seconds because I want this over with as soon as possible. And like I said, I’m not new to eating pussy. I know how to get a girl off.

“Holy shit.” Natalie laughs, even as she struggles to catch her breath. “Again,” she orders me. And when I don’t automatically comply, she grabs my overgrown hair and yanks my head down to her pussy. “Again, Ryker.”

Splashing water on my face barely brings me out of my headspace. I can’t believe I’m thinking of that old bitch again. Tara’s nothing like her and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Natalie for weeks. Her memories, and what came afterwards, keep me up at night. They make me lose focus during the day. They cause me to—

I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up.

Heaving until my already empty stomach aches and muscles burn, I flush the toilet and rinse my mouth out. Then I brush my teeth and shave before getting into the shower. Scrubbing as hard as I can, I want to peel layers of my skin off, but that’s never helped in the past.

Braced against the tile, I let scolding water rinse off my issues and reset my emotions back to zero. Tara needs a Dom who can handle his shit, and hers. I have to pull myself together long enough to get her out of my system.

I mean out of my suite.

Shit. Why’d I just say that? Tara’s not in my system. She’s not under my skin. She’s nothing but a cheater who used me to win the Butterfly privilege.

But goddamn did she look divine in that bed.

Why did she have to choose me as her Dom?

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