Page 10 of Maximus

His hooded expression sweeps my way, and he nods to the dollar bills on the table.

“You have a choice. Take the money and run, or wait a while and share a drink with me.”

His cocky smirk should make me run and not look back, but I could use a shot of Dutch courage and smile. “The drink would be good. Thank you.”

I am struggling not to stare at his body that was obviously crafted from my imagination and knowing that same body was responsible for my discarded virginity isn’t a bad memory to have. It could have been much worse and so I accept the glass of champagne that he hands me as he nods to the couch. “Take a seat.”

As I perch on the edge, my gaze drifts to his manhood and I swallow hard, the blood rushing to my head as I salivate over the one thing I should be horrified by. There is a naked man in my vision and I am fully dressed. My mother would shit a brick if she could see me now and my father, well, that’s a vision best left unseen.

He surprisesme by taking the seat bedside me and as his leg brushes against mine, desire flares inside me like a lit match.

My fingers shake as they grip the glass and he whispers, “We still have one hour left.”

“I know.”

I gulp the champagne, loving how it douses the heat inside me, and he says huskily, “I prefer you naked.”

I swallow hard, my vision blurring as my body wakes up to the fact this isn’t over yet and he whispers darkly, “Strip for me.”

I don’t even question him and merely stand, staring into his lustful eyes as I slowly peel off my dress, followed by my lingerie, unashamedly standing naked before him as his heated gaze sears against my shivering skin.

“On your knees.”

A flicker of excitement grips me as I drop before him and he opens his legs and palms his cock, growling, “Take it.”

Fuck. This is turning out to be one hot night to remember and as I settle between his legs, I stare at his cock with trepidation.

Take it. I kind of guess what that means and as I press my lips against it, he hisses, “Open your mouth.”

I do as he says and before I can breathe, he fists my hair and pushes in roughly, hitting the back of my throat, causing me togag as he pulls back and then thrusts inside again several times. My eyes blur as I struggle to accommodate him and as he groans with pleasure, I gain a morbid sense of satisfaction from that.

This is degrading, really fucking degrading, but what did I expect? He is paying me and I’m the fool who agreed to it.

As he punishes my mouth for ever agreeing to this, a hot stream of cum hits the back of my throat and he says roughly, “Swallow every fucking drop.”

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and do as he says, almost gagging at the salty taste that fills my entire mouth. When I finish, he thrusts my glass into my hand and orders, “Drink it. Every fucking bubble.”

I swallow the champagne and as it mixes with him, it coats me inside with delirium. I have never been so dirty, so used and so wicked, and I’d payhimfour hundred dollars for the privilege if he asked.

CHAPTER 8

MAXIMUS

I’m not sure why I treated her this way. I should have been more gentle, respectful even, but somehow between the bedroom and the shower I got angry. She flung away her virginity as if it didn’t matter. She didn’t value herself and gave it up for money.

She is a whore. I have yet to meet a woman who isn’t, and I am disgusted with myself as well as with her for taking advantage of that.

The fact I am loving every second of it doesn’t help my self loathing and when I finish, I lean back and sigh.

“Why are you doing this, princess? It’s obvious you’re no whore. Who are you really?”

She clambers to her feet and won’t look me in the eye and as she struggle into her clothes, she says wistfully. “Nobody. I’m nobody and I never will be.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Her response angers me and she shrugs, a dejected figure standing uncomfortably before me, wishing she was probably anywhere else.

“Listen.” She heaves in a deep breath. “You can judge me. I don’t blame you really, but you don’t understand my life. This—tonight—was for me and contrary to what you may think, your opinion of me doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure about that?”

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