Page 29 of Wreckin' Amethyst

“Yeah, yeah. Gilded cage, tight leash. I get it.” Ami rolls her purple eyes and downs it herself. Her throat bobs, her cleavage bared. Any other woman would be using this moment as an invitation, but not Amethyst. She’s teasing me. Forcing me to work for her, for the first time. In our story, she’s the cat and I’m the mouse glutton for punishment and constant rejection. But any snippet of emotion from her, negative or otherwise, is worth it.

“Come with me,” Amethyst grabs my hand and tugs. I’m at a loss to fight, the connection between our hands causing a zap of electricity to my libido. Navigating through the crowd, we disappear beneath the balcony where I know Carter will be watching. A shudder rolls the length of my spine, as if the shackles have just been snapped. Temporarily, but it’s enough. I’ll follow Ami wherever she is willing to take me.

Exiting the dance floor, we slip through a gap between the bar and opposite wall, entering a long hallway. It twists and turns, illuminated by flashing LED lights which run the length of the ceiling. At the very end, the hall opens into an oval of closed bathroom doors and a horde of people waiting. As one door opens, Amethyst rushes forward to jump the queue, dragging me with her. Protested shouts are shut out as she slams and locks the door, spinning her wide eyes on me.

Wearing a devilish smile to match the wild height of her hair from ruffling her hands through it, I marvel at her beneath the brightened light of the bathroom. Stunning, enticing, and - as she briefly stumbles on her heel, I realize - completely wasted.

“I’m going to make an exception,” Amethyst smiles wide, so proud of her own announcement. Lifting one finger, she drags it down the front of my shirt and flicks my tie. “One. Single. Ex…cep…tion.” I still her hand from hooking within my waistband, bringing Amethyst’s slurring back up to my face. A look of hurt passes between her brows but I don’t back down, stepping away from her alluring body.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s a bad idea. We can discuss your intentions tomorrow, when you’re sober.”

“Wow. I’ve never been so turned-off by a sentence before.” She clicks her tongue, strolling around the large room. Each bathroom is private, and as opulent as the rest of Elysium. White countertops swirled with gold, huge mirrors and enough space for a gaggle of women to gossip and apply make-up – or whatever women do together in bathrooms. Amethyst swirls leisurely, continuing to dance to the song in her head. “And here I was thinking you’d want to prove you’re a better kisser than Sebby.” I straighten.

“Excuse me?” My voice sounds rough. I catch the hint of Ami’s smile before she spins around again, giving me a moment to collect myself. She’s challenging me, just as she has from the very beginning. Tugging down my jacket cuffs, I roll my shoulders. “Answer me one question. What’s changed?” Ami stops, rolling her head towards me in a sigh.

“It’s been a heavy day. As it stands, you’ve made me vulnerable. I usually deal with that shit via alcohol and orgasms. But if you’re not up for the job-” Amethyst makes a move towards the door. I growl, catching her around the waist and dumping her on the countertop.

“Oh I’ll give you an orgasm, Fiery. But you’re not having my dick until you’re sober.” Spreading her thighs, the slit in her skirt shifts aside perfectly. My fingers trail a slow path towards her cunt, finding her completely bare.Fuck. The decision is taken from me then, and it’s no longer a want, but a visceral need. I can’t leave until Ami falls apart for me. Breaks in such a way, only I can piece her back together.

Gripping her nape, our mouths crash together, igniting the flames of our desire. Finally, Amethyst responds with the vigor I knew she had. With the battle of dominance I knew we’d awaken. Pushing against me, her lips kiss hard, her lipstick smears. As my tongue slips into her mouth, I slide two fingers into her soaking wet pussy. We both groan. She was so ready for this. The dancing, the teasing – it's all been part of the foreplay. Tugging my hair free of the bun, her nails scrape my scalp, her hips grinding to the rhythm of my fingers.

Shifting my mouth to her jaw, her neck and collar bone, I trail hungry kisses. The need to taste every inch of her skin has me throbbing hard in my suit slacks. Amethyst tugs her dress down for her breasts to be freed and pushes my head to her nipple. I gladly obey. Using a hand on Amethyst’s throat, I ease her back to lie on the counter and take her nipple prisoner. My teeth mark, my tongue soothes. Both hands work either her breast or her pussy, my thumb applying pleasure to her clit. If there’s one thing I know, one thing I’m good at, it’s satisfying women.

Ami’s mewls fill the bathroom, her back arched from the counter as I move onto her other nipple. Testing her tolerance between pain and pleasure, she gives no signal to having a threshold.She will be the death of me.Instead, Ami welcomes my nipping, moaning louder as I add a third finger into her incredibly tight pussy. Pushing on my head once more, I allow her to guide me south, sinking my teeth into her inner thigh.

“Fuck! Yes,” she hisses. In the morning, she’ll probably curse me for it, but for now I take my sweet time, ensuring the teeth marks will remain. Sucking hard, I leave a hickey in the center, my own form of branding. I wonder what Amethyst will make of calling me a beast now. My fingers, which haven’t slowed, pull back as I stand. If I thought she was beautiful before, now she’s a goddess. Flushed with pleasure, writhe with passion. Ami whines for me, her hands outstretched. I memorize the moment for when I’ll have my cock in my hand later.

“Stop stalling and make me come,” her voice turns demanding. I smirk, slowly shrugging out of my jacket. Using the white shirt cuff to wipe the lipstick from my face, I enjoy her squirming too much, slowly rolling up my sleeves. Ami has given me an opportunity tonight, one I’ll make sure she doesn’t forget within her drunken haze. Dragging off my tie, I grip her ankles and tug her down the counter. The skirt of her dress rides up, granting me open access. Then, I descend on her.

One leg over my shoulder, I spear Amethyst’s pussy with my tongue. She’sdelicious. I can’t get enough. Dragging my tongue to her clit, my fingers are back inside her, pumping her into a frenzy. Sucking her into a state of insanity. Each scream is music to my ears, spurring me on.

“Fucking…Fuck me,’ she cries out. I smirk against her, drowning in her heady scent and the taste of her arousal. It would be too easy. I’m rock hard and aching to slam home inside her, but I won’t. Not tonight. For the one woman who sees me as more than a sex-crazed billionaire, she deserves more.

“I’m not doing anything you’ll hate me for in the morning,” I mutter, my words lost to the slickened thrusting of my fingers. She claws at my hair again, tugging me close enough to suffocate me with her cunt. What a pleasant way to die. Curling my fingers inside, I suck her clit hard, before flicking my tongue rapidly and repeating the process. Again and again, until she stiffens and prepares to break for me.

“Oh shit…shit…oh, s-” Ami screams. I go even harder, giving her everything I can. My bicep shudders with the tension of my finger fucking, her pussy clamping around me. “Oh Sebby!” the next scream comes. My brows hit my hairline, my mouth going slack. Through the throes of her climax, Ami doesn’t realize I’ve slowed, using her own hand to ferociously rub her clit. I stand, still pumping my fingers inside of her, although my own desire has truly been doused. Pulling back, I wash my hands and face in the basin, redressing and making it to the door while she’s still squirming in the aftermath of her pleasure.

Amethyst is a self-serving woman. Someone who doesn’t rely on others to get what she wants. After what I heard of her past today, I understand. Although it doesn’t crush the misery blossoming in my chest. Amethyst may be the only one I want, but I was stupid to think I could be anything more than a convenience to her.

Chapter 20

“Wakey,wakey!”someoneshouts,alongside a round of incessant banging. Groaning, I shove my head beneath the pillow, clamping it over my ears. The cover is ripped from my body, leaving me completely naked and exposed to my assaulter. Not that I care. The banging continues, similar to a wooden spoon on a pan, before the pillow is also torn from my head and tossed over my ass. “Get the fuck up, you’ve got a job to do.”

“I was kinda planning to have a hangover today Carter, if you would kindly leave me the hell alone.”

“I don’t think so,” the smug fucker chuckles, banging the pan beside my head. My skull tightens and cracks down the center. Through the fissure, a migraine strong enough to pulsate in my ears breaks through. Something frilly is chucked beside my face, brushing my cheek. Cracking an eye, I scoff at the maid’s outfit laid out. Above, Carter looms like the oppressive bastard of my nightmares. “Consider this your penalty.”

“For what?!” I push myself upright too fast and instantly regret it.

“This is for whatever you did to Myles last night,” Carter nudges the outfit with his wooden spoon. Dropping the pan on the ground, the burst of sound causes me to wince and plays into Carter’s plan perfectly. Slapping something across my forehead, I yelp at the assault, struggling against his hand holding it there and his mouth leaning into my ear. “And this, this is for fucking with my calendar.” Leaving as quickly as I woke, he’s gone and I flop forward.

“What the fuck?” I try to crinkle my forehead, but it’s stuck flat by whatever is still attached to me. On aching legs, I maneuver into the bathroom, braving a look at myself in the mirror. No. No way. Through the slits of my heavy eyes, I inspect the wax sheet firmly stuck over my eyebrows.

A small voice in my head whispers that I probably deserve this. I may have drunk enough last night to put a sailor to shame, but I remember Myles. I remember him between my legs, remembering the yearning I felt. How I continually told myself it was the alcohol which made my body feel so good. And how, in a sudden burst of realization I wanted him with a feverish intensity, I screamed Sebby's name instead.

Teasing the edges of the wax strip, I cry out in pain. Each tiny tug is like a thousand needles piercing my brain, a chasm of pain about to explode from the dam. A few eyelashes and a clump of my hair are also stuck beneath. Bracing myself on the basin, I inhale deeply. There’s only one thing for it, and I decide it is well deserved. Gripping the edge of the sheet, I hear Charley calling for me in the main bedroom as I tear it off in one, swift tug.

Wandering into the kitchen a short while later, my heels click loudly against the unforgiving floor. The underskirt of the maid’s outfit tickles the bruise on my thigh, causing me to be hyperaware of it at all times. Actually, bruise is too gentle a word for the raised welt of vibrant blue and purples. All four men are sitting on the bar stools, lost in their reading. Carter holds an ostentatiously large newspaper, Owen is scrolling the newsfeed on a tablet, Sebby’s on his cellphone and Myles in the center reading a book. Guarded on either side, protected from the heathen entering their presence.

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