“Mr. Mauriello, I’m sorry to bother you.” Peter grunted into the phone then clenched his teeth as the grunt turned into a wince. “I … I, uh, whew, it’s about Whitey, fuck, Whitey Smith.” He gritted his teeth again, his forehead now beading up in perspiration as he hissed into the phone.
Peter’s face was strained mainly because he was holding back a powerful orgasm. Darla Lovell had his wrists and ankles tied to the hotel room bed. It was a seedy place just outside of town. She wanted him alone to fully ‘explore’ each other and bring their pleasure to a whole new level.
The truth was she wanted that fucking meeting set between her and Lorenzo Mauriello, the crime boss that needed the deed to Whitey’s land. This was the deed that Lucas Jackson bought from Whitey Smith with Lorenzo Mauriello’s money. Shit was about to get ugly and Whitey wanted all loose ends tied up now. Lorenzo Mauriello was one of those loose ends. For all intents and purposes, so was Peter.
Peter listened to the impatient voice on the other end of the phone, Darla holding it to his ear while riding him. She knew how to control Peter; he was directed by his dick which was now buried deep inside her and being squeezed like a vice. Before she let Peter touch her, she wrapped a metal cock ring around his base and now his steely member was throbbing for release. Darla shook her head while she watched his face contort, her voice was a whisper, “No, no. Not yet.” She stroked his sweaty face with her free hand then rested it just under his chin, squeezing. “Make the meeting, my love.”
Peter was panting into the phone while nodding up at her, ‘No, sir. I just went for a run and overdid it.’ He bit his lip hard as he nearly came. Darla slapped his face to get his focus.
“Make the meeting now.” She was mouthing the words slowly. “Then you can cum, my love.” She jerked her hips causing his body to buck from the bolt of pleasure that shot through him.
“Mr. Mauriello, Darla Lovell would like to meet with you.” He was speaking intently now, wanting to get this part done so he could explode inside her. “She claims to know where the deed is but wants to present it to you directly.” He listened for a moment while Darla started to rock on top of him. If Peter was complying with her wish, she’d comply with his.
“No, sir. Just her. She’s the lawyer for the thug that killed Lucas Jackson. According to her, Jackson sent her the deed just before he died and she wants to turn it over to the rightful owner. It would appear Jackson was the one trying to screw you over, not Smith.” Peter listened on the other end of the phone again, then answered, “I’m sure she has her price just like anyone else. I’ll set it up. She’ll make it work.” Peter licked his lips and smiled at Darla. It was done. He got her the meeting.
Before he could say another word, she snatched the phone from his hand and threw it across the room.
“Now, where and when?” She asked as she pressed her hands to his shoulders and started riding him faster, “Oh I bet you want to cum so hard right now, don’t you Peter?”
Peter was delirious. He blurted the location, “Triumph Tower Three construction site. Tomorrow night at 11:30pm!” Peter screamed the last few words, feeling his cock twitch hard then explode inside Darla as she violently rode him.
“Good work, my boy! Now scream for me while you cum, scream I say!”
She slapped his face hard triggering the loudest scream that could possibly come from a man’s lungs. Darla was like a drug and Peter was the addict. Right now, she had him so high, his scream sounded more like a “Weeeeeee!” The kind one screams as they plummet down to Earth on a roller coaster headed due South.
***
A knock at the door startled Darla, even though she fully knew who it was. She had been in the bathroom dressing while Peter slept soundly in the bed, still restrained. As she buttoned the cuffs of her silk blouse, she headed to the door. From the corner of her eye, she spotted something important. Peter’s cell phone was flashing ‘Princess’ but the ringer was off. She left it to ring as another impatient knock came from the door. Darla swung it open.
“I thought you’d never get here. He’s been out for an hour.” Whitey and two of his bikers made their way into the room.
“Anyone see you come in with him?” Whitey asked as he looked over Darla’s expert restraints, “Jeezus, Darla. Should I get you some leather and a riding crop?”
She smiled as she applied some Ruby Red matte lipstick, “Nope, already have them.” She snapped the lipstick tube closed and dropped it into her oversized Yves bag. “The meeting is set with Mauriello for tomorrow. Shall we?”
She picked up a few more of her things, including Peter’s cell phone and dropped them into her the bag, then turned to face Whitey. She paused uncomfortably when she found him already looking her over. His gaze was unsettling. Quietly, he took a step toward her. His hands were on his hips and he was sucking his teeth.
“You … you have a good time in here, Darla? You have fun riding his cock?” Darla didn’t like Whitey’s tone. It was written all over his face.
“Whitey, I got the meeting. That’s what you wanted.” Darla stammered, straightening her shoulders as she prepared to defend her actions.
“You don’t think you could have done that without setting this room up like a BDSM fuck room?” His voice was calm but she knew he was getting angry inside. Whitey’s temper was like a slow ticking bomb. He was the type of guy that could be shaking a hand and sharing a cigar one moment then smashing the same person’s face against the table in another second.
“I wanted to make sure I got the meeting set. Restraining him ensured he’d be here until he made the call and it got the job done, Whitey. You wanted the meeting set. It’s set. Now can we go?”
Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, her mind running in several directions at once, anticipating his next move. The air hung heavily between them as the thugs each moved around the room cleaning it up. They were wiping everything down systematically. One ran a wand that looked like a lint brush over everything while the other followed him around wiping down the furniture. This struck Darla as odd. Peter was drugged and passed out. He’d wake up and leave here like any other night they fucked. In the moment her thoughts were distracted, Whitey stepped forward and backhanded her hard.
It was the sharp sting across her cheek and the rattling sound of her teeth that jolted her attention back to him. Her hand flew up to feel the cheek already swelling under it as she dropped to her knees, mostly from the shock. She stared up at Whitey speechless. The men continued with their task and now they were setting out a smorgasbord of drugs on the night table next to Peter’s sleeping body.
“Now. You did a great job. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s too great a job. Just don’t forget who owns that cunt.” He stroked her hair and then moved his hand from her head and shoved it between her legs and grimaced, “Now go home and get yourself cleaned up.”
He helped her to her feet and handed her the bag she had dropped when he hit her. In a daze, Darla nodded wordlessly. Her hand was still on her cheek as she passed through the open door and headed toward the elevator. Once inside, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Then she realized it. It suddenly made sense why they were cleaning the room and setting up the drugs. They were going to kill Peter.