Page 6 of Ruthless Desire

I let that sink in as he writhes on the piss-stained concrete. The copper tang of his blood fills my nostrils, stoking the fire inside me. The unquenchable inferno that my little bird ignited the moment I saw her face.

I pull out my phone, admiring her delicate features on the screen. Still blissfully unaware of the lengths I'll go to possess her completely. The lives I'll destroy to keep her within my grasp.

"Get rid of him," I tell Alonzo as I straighten my cuffs, my tone bored. Dismissive. As if I hadn't just shattered a man's face for daring to bask in her presence. "And make it messy. I want him to feel a fraction of the agony he's earned by touching what's mine."

Alonzo just nods, already motioning for the boys to dispose of the whimpering sack of shit at my feet. They know the drill. This is hardly the first time I've painted the walls with some fool's blood for overstepping.

And it sure as fuck won't be the last. Not until the whole world knows that Natalie Quinn is strictly off-limits. My personal property, to be touched and tasted only by me.

"Oh, and Alonzo?" I call over my shoulder as I stride towards the exit, my shoes crunching on shattered teeth and bits of bone. "Get the industrial carpet cleaners down here. I won't have my warehouse reeking of this imbecile's filthy gore."

"On it, boss," comes the clipped reply, followed by the snap of latex gloves and the crackle of plastic sheeting. Efficient as always, my right-hand man. He knows I have far more pressing matters to attend to.

Namely, the delicate operation of acquiring my elusive little bird. Of luring her into my gilded cage and clipping those pretty wings so she can never even dream of flying away from me.

I'm already hard again as I slide into the Escalade, my mind spinning with visions of her sprawled across my silk sheets. Panting, pleading, those succulent tits heaving as I pound into her mercilessly. Laying my claim with every brutal thrust, every brutal, biting kiss.

I barely register the drive back to the penthouse, my cock throbbing in time to the pulsing need in my veins. I'm a man possessed, haunted by raven hair and stormy eyes and a darkness so akin to my own it makes my blackened soul sing.

I think of the way she touches herself when she thinks she's alone, the slick sounds of her fingers delving into that pretty pink cunt. The breathy little moans and half-sobs that spill from her lush mouth as she chases her pleasure.

Alonzo had managed to bug her apartment, wire it from floor to ceiling with pinhole cameras and fiber-optic mics. All synced to a live feed on my encrypted drives, of course.

At first, he'd balked at my order to make the recordings. Spouted some bullshit about privacy laws and ethical lines in the sand. As if legality has ever been more than a polite fucking suggestion for men like us.

I'd shut that shit down with a quickness, reminded him of his place at the end of my goddamn leash. And of the consequences for defying my will when it came to my precious new pet.

The next day, the first video had pinged my phone as I lounged in my office. I'd nearly cum in my bespoke trousers at the sight of her biting her lip, flushed and panting as she worked herself to a shuddering climax.

I wish she had whispered my name when she came, her voice cracked and broken. Like a prayer, like a fucking curse. If I hadn't already been obsessed before, that would have sealed my fate. Bound me to her with unbreakable chains of darkest desire and manic devotion.

Just the memory has my balls tightening, my shaft leaking a steady drip of arousal. I palm myself with a groan, squeezing roughly as I let the images wash over me. Natalie, splayed out like a feast for my hungry eyes. Natalie, arching and writhing and whimpering as she succumbs to the needs of her traitorous little body.

My perfect whore, my flawless fucking muse. So responsive, so in tune with her primal urges. I'll train that body to crave only my touch, manipulate those urges until they scream for me alone.

"Soon, baby," I rasp to her phantom presence, thumbing the sticky-slick crown of my dick. "Soon you'll be doing this for my eyes only. Putting on filthy little shows for your master while I fist my cock and tell you what a good fucking cunt you are."

I groan, my fantasy shifting, sharpening with ruthless focus. "Gonna wreck this tight little slit. Gonna gape you open on my cock and ruin you for anyone else. You'll be my fucktoy, my cockwarmer, my obedient set of holes to spill my cum into whenever I please."

The images come faster, meaner, tinged crimson with my blistering need to dominate. To desecrate. "Gonna chain you to my bed and make you my personal cumdump. Keep you plugged up tight with my thick loads, clean and wet and ready for me to slide balls-deep whenever the whim strikes."

I'm leaking like a faucet now, smearing my spunk all over my leather seats with each swift downstroke. I don't give a fuck. I employ an army of cleaners for a reason. Right now, all that matters is my pleasure. My claim of Natalie Quinn in every filthy way I know how.

"Fuck, you'll look so goddamn pretty with my ring on your finger," I rasp, my abdomen clenching as I barrel towards the edge. "My collar on your throat. My brand on your flesh. My baby swelling your fertile little belly..."

That's what does it. The thought of her ripe and round with my child, the undeniable proof of my ownership. My release rockets through me, the most intense I've had in recent memory. I roar my savage triumph as I mark my interior, my spend splattering across leather and chrome in thick ivory ropes.

My vision fuzzes, my brain shorting out with circuit-frying bliss. But already, a darker hunger gnaws at my guts. This momentary relief is a drop in the bucket of my obsession, a thimbleful of water against the raging wildfire of my need for Natalie.

I'll never be satisfied by proxies and pale imitations. By ghostly traces of her essence clinging to paint and rumpled silk. No, I crave the real thing. Hot and writhing, fighting and submitting. Mine to break and use and worship as I please.

I'm still in a daze as I slip from the car, not bothering to clean myself up as I head for the private elevator. Let my staff scurry to scrub the remnants of my lust from the rich Corinthian leather. Let them whisper in horror and secret envy at the depravity of my urges, the violence of my passions.

None of them would understand. None save the breathtaking creature who even now consumes my darkest musings. My Natalie. My nightmare in heels, my diamond in the fucking rough.

In the privacy of my penthouse, I'll paint the walls with my seed and my madness. I'll scrawl her name in the ledger of my blackened soul, carve it into my skin with sacred blood-oaths. And when the fever pitch reaches a crest...

I'll begin my hunt anew. I'll unleash hell on earth to smoke her out, to run her to ground and drag her into the abyss of my devotion. I'll salt the earth of her life until I'm the only sustenance, the only salvation she has left to cling to.

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