Sage

Stripping off my bloodied, gun powder smelling clothes, I drop them to the floor and start up the shower, trying to push back my annoyance at not getting anything out of the asshole. He knew something about Gin’s death, and I had him just about to spill his guts until the fucker’s heart gave out. The damnedest thing. His ticker couldn’t hold up through his torture. I’ve never had that happen before—someone dying on me ‘cause their own body let go before I got the chance to end it.

Shaking my head, I step into the spray and start scrubbing away the grime. The door to my bathroom opens, drawing my attention. I hold my breath, hoping it isn’t one of the girls. I scrub the water from my face and look out through the frosted glass to make out a figure on the other side. “I saw it,” she tells me, making me smile. I know who the voice belongs to. But then her words register, and my heart stops beating.

“Brook, baby, go wait on the bed. We’ll talk about this when I’m done.” I try to keep my voice firm, and to my surprise, she listens and leaves the bathroom. I almost don’t expect to see her sitting on my bed when I step out, but there she is. Tight ass jeans wrapped around those thighs I enjoyed spending such a long time between last night with my mouth. “Well?” she asks, raising her brows at me expectantly.

“You saw what I did?” She nods, giving nothing away. “Didn’t your old man ever tell you to stay away from that shed?” She nods again. “Don’t listen much, do you?”

“Who was it?”

“Some prick who had something to do with Gin’s death, your brother getting shot, and the store burning down.”

“Is he dead?” I pause before answering her, unsure of how much she saw. “If it has something to do with Gin, I want to know,” she demands, adamant on learning the truth. The truth about who I am. Who I can become.

“Yeah, baby. He’s dead,” I tell her.

Without even batting an eye, she says, “Good.”

“Good,” I echo.

“If he was responsible for all of those things, I’m glad you killed him.” Deciding not to correct her and tell her how the prick really died, I take a few steps closer to her.

“You are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?” I drop down onto my knees and spread her thighs just enough to give me room to lean forward. “I’m going to find who did this and kill them,” I vow, right there, at the foot of my bed wearing only a towel and some stray drops of water that haven’t yet evaporated.

“Good.” The word comes out breathy, forced. As if she had to make herself to speak.

“Anything else you want from me, kid?” My hands find her knees, and I swear to myself I’m not going to fuck her. Not in here where everyone will be able to hear, but the words that come out of her mouth next make me lose any grasp I have on my sanity.

“I want you to spank me.”

“Fucking hell.” My groan starts deep in my chest as I push off the floor and stand to my feet. She wants to play? Even after what she saw me do just hours ago? “Take off your clothes. Get on the floor,” I order, keeping my voice hard and demanding. She quickly does as instructed, not hesitating once. “Lean over the bed and spread your legs.” She moves quick, getting into position. Her soft backside calls to me, the creamy skin begging to have a red hue draped across it. I leave her there and go over to the closet, then reach up to the highest shelf to pull down the box.

I’m not into hardcore BDSM, but I do like using a belt or the occasional crop on a woman’s ass. It’s something I haven’t done in some time. Not until this little shit came sauntering into my bed. The first time I spanked Brook, it was simply me punishing her for sucking a prospect’s cock in the tech room. Now, it’s more than that. I think she needs it—craves it nearly as much as I do. “Number?” I ask as I walk back over to where she is still perched, doing exactly as told.

“Ten,” she rasps, her throat dry with anticipation.

“Let’s make it fifteen,” I say, then land a hard whack down onto the back of the legs with the brown leather crop.

“One!” she shouts, not needing any guidance.

“Good girl,” I praise, then land another strike, making an X along her smooth flesh, the long thin red line pebbling up. She shouts the number each time I land a blow, making a crisscross pattern along her backside.

“What was that?” she asks, breathless.

“Crop.” I let it drop down onto the bed in front of her so she can look it over.

“Has some bite to it. I think I like the belt better, though.”

“I’m more fond of my hand,” I say running it along the markings. She lets out a sharp hiss that turns into a gasp when my fingers glide along her seam. She shifts, trying to look over her shoulder at me to see if she can find out what I’m going to do next. Without warning, I run my tongue from her clit all the way up to her puckered ring. Instantly, she jolts ahead when I hit the spot. I do it once more, then stop when I get to her asshole, lingering just a bit longer to push her out of her comfort zone. I press with my tongue only slightly, then delve back down to pay more attention to her neglected clit. Burying my face into her pussy, I hear the muffled sounds of her moaning into the mattress. I bring up my thumb and dip it into her soaked pussy to gather moisture, then drag it up to apply pressure to her other hole. “Oh god! Sage!” she cries as I sink just the tip of my thumb in. Her body coils and releases a powerful orgasm, but I know I can do better. I don’t give her a chance to move or come down from the orgasm before plunging into her waiting heat with a firm thrust. She pushes her face farther into the bed and grips at the comforter, bringing it to her mouth, probably to scream into, but I don’t let up. I keep thrusting my hips. Harder and faster. It takes only minutes before she is clamping down on me with another orgasm. I hold off as best as I can, but it becomes too much, so I pull out and stroke my shaft over the globes of her ass to mark her with my cum, collapsing almost on top of her back when I can no longer stand.

“Shit, you might kill me,” I pant out, running my hand along her body. I can’t stop touching her.

“You might need to pace yourself. You’re an old man, you know,” she laughs out, earning herself another swat on her still red ass.

“Ouch!”

Little shit.