Page 39 of Heathens

“Fuck me, Dominic. Please!”

It’s a sweet, almost harmonious moan, like a choir of angels.

“Good girl.”

She nearly falls to pieces at the praise. I’ll keep that in mind for later.

My cock grinds against her ass, and every second I’m not inside of her is torturous. With one claw, I slice through her panties, ripping them from her body and tossing them aside. I don’t know why she bothers to wear them anymore.

Sofie’s clawing at the wall with those chipped fingernails. If she were mine, she could get those nails done whenever she wanted. She’d be my Queen, bathed in jewels and gowns. She wouldn’t have to lift a fucking finger.

I kick her feet apart and unbuckle my belt, pulling my cock out of my pants and teasing her with the tip. Music pounds, vibrating the walls and her bones.

“You want this?”

She lets out another throaty groan, and goosebumps rush down my spine. I can’t get enough of this woman; the way she smells, the way she moans, the way she writhes just for me.

“Yes, I need it.”

I wind her hair around my knuckles and pull back as hard as I can.

She’s an ocean, and I want to drown myself in her.

“Beg for it.”

She smirks at me over her shoulder, her eyes full of fire.

“What would you do if I askedyouto beg?”

“Play your cards right and you might find out.” I flick my tongue against her ear. “But I wasn’t asking.”

She shivers, her pussy clenching around the tip of my cock as I push it a little deeper inside of her.

“Fuck me, Dominic.” She draws in a long shaky breath. “Please.”

Working women up to the point of incoherent babbling and tears gets me off. Sometimes, the foreplay is even better than the sex.

“That’s pathetic,” I grunt. “Reallybeg for it. I want to know you’d die without my cock inside you.”

She exhales softly, followed by the sweetest whimper I’ve ever heard.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Duncan. Would you prefer it if I leaned over the bar and shoved my tits in your face like you have to pay for it?”

I smack her ass hard enough to leave a bruise and pull out of her completely. The crack echoes through the small space and I can hear her swallow a moan.

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

Her laugh is vibrant and mischievous.

“Why don’t you find out?”

I tug harder on her hair, forcing her body to arch. Her fingernails scrape against concrete and she lets out a loud, high-pitched wail, almost singing for me.

“Do what I tell you andbeg.“ I let out a soft hiss. The warmth of her body calls out to mine. I’m starved for her. “I could rip you apart, little dove.”

“Please, Dominic!” Her voice cracks. “Fuck!”

“That’s more like it,” I whisper. “Tell me what you want.”

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