I look down and reward Jessica with a big smile. The visual alone is enough to make a porn star hang her head in shame and want to retire.

Jessica looks sexy as fuck, kneeling on the floor with my cock in her mouth. A red ring has formed around the base of my cock as her lipstick rubs off from the friction.

I love watching her like this. Submissive, pliant, eager to please and, above all, mine. Mine to touch, bite, and throw around. Mine to fuck. Mine to use however I please.

I love when she looks up from underneath her lush lashes, checking to see if I’m enjoying this, if she’s pleasing me with her service. I love how much she craves my approval.

I put one hand on her head and push her back against the wall. Now she can’t move. We’re going to see just how much she wants to please me.

“Lean back,” I order, my voice low and authoritative. “Hands behind your back.”

Jessica gazes at me, surrender and obedience in her eyes. Without saying anything, she does my bidding. It’s not like she can say anything with my rock-hard cock filling her small mouth and jamming her throat.

I start to fuck her mouth, sliding my cock in and out of her while all she can do is lean back and take it with her jaw wide open. Small lines appear on her forehead from the effort.

She’s completely helpless. She knows I can do anything I want to her, yet she trusts me to keep her safe, to protect her even as I ruin her.

It’s a strange feeling. I want to shield this woman, who’s literally on her knees for me, from anything that can hurt her. And yet, at the same time, I want to exact some pain on her myself, just to see how much she’d take for me.

It’s primal, animalistic. I can’t control it. I worry for her sometimes, but she loves it just as much as I do.

Just look at her, her black mascara smudged around her eyes, her red lipstick almost completely gone. She looks beautiful like this, like she belongs there, like she was made for sucking my cock.

I grunt and grab a fistful of her hair. I don’t have to move her head. She’s perfect where she is. I just want to make it clear to her that I can hurt her, I will hurt her, and she’ll take it.

Sure enough, I feel a sharp intake of air when I unblock her airway and let her breathe. She moans around my shaft, sending vibrations that electrify my entire body.

Once again, she looks up at me as my cock plunges in and out of her mouth. She’s saying something, but it’s unintelligible. I don’t need to hear a word from my fuck doll. A cock down her throat is the perfect way to keep her quiet.

Besides, I already know what she wants.

“No, you may not touch yourself.” I grunt. “You’re a good girl for asking. I’m glad you understand your pussy belongs to me. I’ll reward you later. But right now, there’s only one thing of mine that I want you to pleasure.”

I push myself deeper and deeper inside her throat, driving home the point I’m making. My cock should be the only thing in her head right now. Her throat wraps tightly around my cock, like a sleeve custom-made for me.

I feel my balls tighten. I feel like I’m about to burst. The way she submits to every perverted act I can think of, her gasps whenever I pull out to let her breathe, her…

Crash!

My eyes snap open. Immediately, I close them again to shield them from the sunlight that’s pouring in through the window of Jessica’s bedroom.

Was that just a fucking dream? Damn it. It was getting good.

I’m horny for real, though. I have a raging hard-on in my pants that’s demanding to be taken care of.

For a moment, I consider going back to sleep, but I just know that even if I start dreaming right away, I won’t just pick up where I left off. Unfortunately, that’s just not how dreams work.

I reach my hand over to the other side of the bed. Maybe Jessica can continue that amazing blowjob in real life. There’s nothing like having my cock in a beautiful woman’s mouth the moment I wake up.

All I find on the other side of the bed is cold sheets. Jessica is gone and she’s probably been gone for a while now.

With my eyes still stubbornly shut, I randomly place my hand on the nightstand, slapping the wood surface with my palm until I hit my phone. I face away from the window and hold the phone in front of me. Squinting at the numbers on the screen, I realize it’s already past noon.

I may as well get up now if I’m not getting morning head in bed. I can compromise and get it in other locations in the house, or even outside.

As I prop myself up with my hands and blink to adjust my eyes to the brightness, a sharp pain penetrates my side.

Right. I almost forgot about that fucking stab wound in my abdomen.

Sure, I’m glad Christine didn’t succeed in her murder attempt, but it pisses me off that sex will be tricky for a while. Now that Jessica’s mine, my sex drive has gone through the roof. All I want to do is spread her legs and dive in, all day, every day.

The wooden floor of Jessica’s bedroom feels cool on my bare feet. What is she doing? I hear random bangs and crashes from the living room. I follow the noises down the hallway.

When I finally see what all the commotion is about, it just creates more questions in my head. Why is she throwing random things into cardboard boxes? The living room looks like a tornado has just ripped through it.

“It’s a little too early for spring cleaning,” I say as I lean on the doorframe leading into the living room.

“It’s not spring cleaning,” Jessica answers without looking at me. She’s sitting in the middle of a circle of cardboard boxes, paperback books, and stacks of files, like she’s a deity in a religion for paper products.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Packing for what?” I frown. This is the first time I’m hearing about anything that requires such extreme packing behavior.

“I’m moving,” she says with her eyes glued on some bits of paper. Her hands are busy sorting the mountain of paper products into the cardboard boxes around her.

“What do you mean you’re moving?”

“It means I’m moving.” There’s a hint of annoyance in Jessica’s voice right now, like I’m supposed to already know about this, like we have discussed this before.

Only, we haven’t. I’d remember something like that.

“What, like, to my house?” I raise my eyebrow and smile at Jessica, hoping a little bit of humor would improve her mood and drag her out of whatever funk she’s in.

“No,” she says, as if there’s no explanation needed. I swear, as much as I enjoy Jessica’s sass, sometimes I wish she could be all sweet and submissive all the time, instead of just during sex.

“So…?” I prompt her to continue.

“What?”

“So where are you moving, then?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere else that’s not here.”

“As in, somewhere else that’s not Ashbourne?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, it really isn’t.” I step closer toward Jessica and stop at the edge of her circle of madness. “Christine has been apprehended, so she’s not a threat to you. You can stay here safely for as long as you want because Stan isn’t going to come after you. Why are you moving?”

“She’s going to tell everybody about how I’m a whore who used to work at a strip club. The next thing I know, I’ll be getting fired. I’d rather move before that happens.”

“You don’t know that’s what’s going to happen.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists. “Come on, haven’t you read the news? Ex-strippers don’t fare well in traditional professions, especially ones related to kids.”

“You’re not moving,” I say with finality.

“I am.” Jessica looks up at me from where she’s sitting on the floor, defiance glinting in her bright green eyes. “I’m leaving as soon as Max recovers.”