27. UPSTAIRS
LEON
Schoolgirls. Little innocent schoolgirls. I shove her up the stairs backwards, the short gasp she emits feeding my fury. My lust. The fuck was she thinking?
I shake my head slowly as she retreats into my apartment, staring back at me with a mixture of desire and fear blooming over her lovely, battered features.
I’ve had my eyes on her for a while now. She’s my type. Beautiful, sexy as hell, weak, and messed up. I know what they say about me, that I want them broken, but they’ve got it all wrong. It’s not how broken the girl is that attracts me. What makes me hard is when she doesn’t give a shit.
Like me.
I can run a mean business with my clubs, go through the motions of keeping up the charade of life. That’s all I have to do, though, because you survive easily with my kind of talent. But when I die, I hope whomever I leave behind cremates me and flushes me down the toilet.
“The fuck, Pandora,” I say out loud, scolding her for what occurred a couple of hours ago. Finally, I have a reason to discipline her. The way Pandora looks at me right now thrills me. Finally, she’s where I want her. She’s not too drunk to play, and with that college kid, Dominic, absent, I’m ready for fun.
“Seriously? You’re still angry?” she asks against my mouth. I hoist her up around my waist so I can squeeze her into me before I drop her on the couch.
She whimpers, surprised at the sudden fall.
“Of course I’m upset with you. What if I’d been too late? Any marks?” I ask, my heart speeding up at the thought. Sure, I’m as fond of bruises as the next guy—if they’re from me.
“No, I don’t think so. Maybe my hip when I fell,” she says, and I instantly peel the top part of her cat suit down.
“Leon, wait—I’m not sure about this.”
“You came upstairs for a reason,” I breathe through my teeth. “You wouldn’t have accepted if you didn’t want this.”
I switch on the reading light above us to examine her, and the way she squirms under my scrutiny is fucking hot.
“I’m all right, Leon. No need to—”
“Lie still,” I demand, and she does—like a good girl. Once the bra is unhooked, I frisk her for bruises—her ribcage, her waist—before I detour to her breasts. Her aureole tighten in my hands, nipples taut and elongated, so I dive in, covering them with my mouth, and feast on them.
“Here?” I ask once I’ve wrung her pants down over her ass. Porcelain skin greets me, giving me a raging hard-on. I pinch her playfully, eliciting a small “ouch.”
I groan at the sound. I stare to see if I made any progress on that smooth, white curve. Where I pinched her, my fingerprints form a pink pattern, and I stop caring about old bruises.
Irresistible.
She wiggles, helping me get rid of her outfit altogether. I fling it on the floor and don’t give a damn when her shoes hit the wall next.
Pandora’s thin thong is easy to move to the side, and I do to visualize the next hours; I insert two fingers to gauge the fit, and God have mercy—we’ll have a good time.
She’s slick, her channel instinctively contracting around my digits. Yeah, this girl is worked up for me whether she admits it or not.
“You’ll do fine, sugar,” I slur out, drunk on the pleasure I’m foreseeing. “Where’s Dominic?” I continue, because the thought of conquering her turns me on more. Pandora’s hips begin to bow into my grasp, facilitating my access.
“Left… Back west,” she moans, arching off the seat, unconsciously offering up a boob. I squeeze it too hard, wanting my fingermarks on her again, and she yelps.
“Shit, Leon?” Her voice pitches up in question. “That hurt.”
“Yeah? You don’t want me to punish you even a little?” I whisper, tasting her throat as I move my fingers inside her. I let my other hand roam back to the breast I played with, filling my palm at first, and I tighten the grasp until I’m only holding the nipple. I pull it outward, twisting just enough for her to cry out again in a fusion of pain and pleasure.
“Answer me.”
“I—don’t know,” she whispers, her voice so full of turmoil I’m about to burst in my pants.
“Let’s try something, shall we?” Mine isn’t really a question, which she realizes. I get up. Undress swiftly in front of her. She tenses and tries to cover herself with a hand, but I jiggle my finger “no” and she obeys. Hmm, Pandora might be a natural at my type of games, even if she doesn’t listen worth shit out of bed.
Her eyes trail over my body, going saucer-wide as they zoom in on my dick, a reaction I’m used to. Pandora doesn’t comment, though. I admit that it disappoints me a little, but I’ll make her scream soon enough.
She surprises me when she sits up on her elbows. “Leon, I can’t do this.”
“You’re chickening out?” I ask, crawling up over her. I spread her knees and sink on top, skin against skin.
“Leon, please. I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what I want. I… shouldn’t be doing something I’ll regret.”
“Oh, shhh. You won’t regret—or forget for that matter.” I let my dick rub over her clit. “Do you have any idea how good you’ll feel in a minute?”
She’s climbing with my massage. Moaning while her hips swivel with me, helping me. Fuck, she’s delicious. I want to smack her. Fill my hands with her ass and make her go rigid with pain as I squeeze.
“Just this once?” The sweet tone I aim at never works for me. I don’t own the sweet gene. “What could it hurt, right?” I say, laughing inwardly at my pun.
“Leon, really—I,” her mouth starts but her body’s with me, not against me.
“Are you dating someone?” I whisper.
“No…”
“Okay, how about we enjoy ourselves?”
A slight whimper I take as “yes” escapes her. Flipping her on top of me, I sit up with her on my lap. She stares, eyes dull with lust and concern, and it’s the hottest mix I’ve ever seen.
I grab Pandora’s chin with one hand, holding her still so that she has to meet my gaze. We’re doing this now, whether she wants to or not. I’m making her want it.
In the space between us, I roll on the condom. Then, I lift her up and sink her down over me. For a second, we sit still, getting used to the sensation.
“Fuck,” I groan.
“Oh no,” she whispers back.
“Oh no what?”
“I wasn’t going to sleep with yet another guy,” she says as I start to move her against me.
“Are you keeping tabs?”
“Yeah, you’re the third one.”
I slide her up and down with more insistence, rock her into me. When she’s too slow, I hold her still instead and heave up into her. Faster, more violently, the closer I get.
“Let’s find out if you like this,” I grunt out before I swat her ass. She squeals, outraged, but then she forgets because I’m not changing my pace or how deeply I penetrate her.
I whack her again on the other butt cheek.
“Stop, Leon,” she whines, her tone contradicting the words, begging me: gimme more.
So I do. I give her more, and in the mirror by the TV, I take in her pretty tushy morphing from paper white through pink to a flashy red as I dole out slaps until my palms sting. For each swat, she wriggles as if she’s trying to move away, but she always changes her mind.
“Leon,” she growls, frustrated as her legs begin to tremble.
“So good isn’t it?” I breathe into her ear. “You’re a kinky girl.”
“No… not… kinky,” she manages before she cramps around me and explodes with a guttural squeak.