Page 104 of Depraved Desires

“If you’re fucking with me, I will cut your dick into tiny little pieces and feed them to the fish,” she warned, shooting me a pointed look.

I snorted at that. “Trust me, I don’t have to lie to get some action around here. If you want to know so badly, wrap your lips around my fucking cock and make me cum.”

She scoffed at my crude tone, but as expected, it didn’t deter her. She finished pulling down my boxers, tossing them to the side as she’d done with my sweats. She braced a hand on either one of my legs before rising on her knees and sucking me into her mouth.

The warmth from her tongue had electricity spiraling through me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten off by someone else while being high off my ass. It had almost happened at the cabin with Aspen, but Foster had to ruin that and then took her for himself.

Asshole.

“Deeper,” I encouraged. “I want to hear you choking.”

She took me about another inch deeper, only managing to take me about halfway into her mouth. With every suck, I could feel myself on the brink of hitting that spot I needed in order to get off, but it wasn’t enough.

Wrapping my hands in her hair, I held her in place before bringing my hips up and jamming myself down her throat. The sound of her choking filled the room, doing things to my insides. I continued thrusting into her mouth furiously, saliva dripping down my dick and thighs. Her nails bit into my legs as she attempted pushing against me, but nope. She wasn’t done until I was.

My eyes rolled as she hit that spot for me over and over again. In no time, I was coming down her throat. After a few more pumps, I released my hold on her and she fell back, gasping for air. Tears were running down her face, her hair in disarray.

“Asshole,” she spluttered.

I smirked, pulling myself upright and reaching for my discarded clothes. I slipped on my boxers and pants, exhaustion taking hold of me once again.

The thought of her kissing Rocky after having my dick in her mouth and tasting my come made me happier than it probably should have.

“So, who is she?” she demanded, losing her patience with me.

“Aspen. Aspen Palmer.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Aspen

Anxiety was crippling as I navigated my way out of the dressing room of the booming club. It felt like it had been forever since I’d last worked. Talissa hadn’t bothered to text me a single time since my absence. Either she simply just didn’t give a shit and replaced me already, or maybe she assumed I quit.

Making my way to the main part of the club, I assessed the vicinity. Music played loudly from the speakers, puncturing my eardrums in the process. The place wasn’t packed yet, but there were a decent number of customers. It seemed that they were all occupied at this time, though, so I’d have to wait.

Striding over to the bar, I tapped my nails against the counter. James’s back was turned toward me as he worked on someone’s drink. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing his face until now. After a few moments, he turned around, stopping dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on me.

My lips parted in surprise as my gaze roamed over him. He was sporting a black eye that was outlined in purple discoloration. Parts of it had started turning yellow, indicatingit was in the healing stages. His bottom lip was busted, and his cheekbone didn’t look much better than his eye did.

I swallowed thickly, watching as he tore his gaze from mine and served the customer, he’d made the drink for. Once he was done, he approached me with obvious reluctance, making my forehead crease in confusion. Why was he acting so weird? Who would hurt him like that? A multitude of questions invaded my headspace.

“Same as usual?” he asked, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.

I pursed my lips and nodded. As he started fixing up my drink, my questions became too much. I needed answers. “What happened to you?” I blurted.

His jaw tightened from the pressure of grinding his molars together. He didn’t answer right away, choosing to focus on my drink instead. Once he was done, he didn’t have an excuse to ignore me anymore. Nobody else was over here. The last person he’d served took his drink and walked away to go check out one of the dancers.

“James,” I pressed, raising an expectant eyebrow. “Tell me.”

“Like you don’t fucking know,” he snapped, his face contorting into a scowl. “The night you left work and didn’t come back, your boyfriend attacked me outside of the club.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, what the hell are you talking about?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “If that’s true, then you have an obsessed stalker.”

I’d heard horror stories from some of the girls in the dressing room. Most of them have had bad encounters with some of the guys that occupied this place. Stalking definitely wasn’t something that rarely happened to strippers or sex club workers. It was more common than I cared to admit. The prospect of mebecoming a target after everything I’d been through made my anxiety that much worse.

“Did he say what his name was?”

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