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Filthy Beautiful Lies(6)

By:Kendall Ryan
 
He’s attractive, fit and intelligent. There's nothing about him, at least physically, not to like, but he bought me for heaven’s sake. I should feel repulsed, not excited and slightly turned on.
 
He watches me expectantly and I lift his heavy cock away from where it rests against his tight abdominal muscles and lower my head to his lap, my tongue darting out to taste the tip of him. He releases a small grunt of satisfaction and tightens his grip against the back of my neck, urging me closer.
 
Curling my fist around the base of him, I work my tongue up and down his length, coating him in my saliva so my hand can easily slide up and down. I’ll never be able to fit all of him in my mouth, so using my hands too is a necessity.
 
A softly murmured curse urges me on. My free hand reaches beneath to gently cup and massage his balls. A warm drop of fluid escapes him and I swipe my tongue against his tip, capturing the bead of salty fluid and swallow it down. Drake’s murmured grunt urges me on.
 
Keeping up my suction around the head of his cock, I ease open my jaw, trying to fit as much of him as I can into my mouth. While my mouth takes him in, I use both hands to firmly stroke the neglected half of his generous length.
 
"Oh fuck," Drake growls. "That’s it, just like that," his deep voice rumbles in his chest. Warmth and moisture flood my panties and I commit myself fully, sucking, licking and stroking to the best of my ability.
 
Confusion snaps to the forefront of my brain. No part of me should be enjoying this, but I feel powerful and desirable making this gorgeous man come apart.
 
His hand tightens in my hair, causing my scalp to tingle and he pulls my mouth away, taking his enormous cock in his hand and stroking it in short, uneven strokes. My core clenches at the sight of him.
 
"Open your mouth," he moans. I do as I’m told, opening wide for him. "Let me see your tongue." I stick out my tongue and he places the head of his cock against it as his fist continues pumping. His eyes fall closed and his head drops back against the sofa. "Oh fuck, sweetness," he growls as a low rumble vibrates in his chest. "That feels so fucking good." Watching us once again, he keeps stroking himself, his pace erratic and his eyes dark with lust. "Your mouth looks so pretty on my cock."
 
I fight the urge to close my mouth around him and suck, but instead remain kneeling before him, my mouth open, waiting to catch his come. Seconds later, warm drops of semen spurt onto my outstretched tongue.
 
He watches as the last of his release lands in my waiting mouth. I swallow and sit back on my heels while he tucks himself back into his pants and pulls up the zipper. "I’d say you passed your first test." His tone is one of pleasant surprise.
 
Some strange part of me feels proud. I tell myself it was only because I want to make sure he doesn’t return me and request a refund. But our shared erotic experience has left me shaken and feeling vulnerable. There’s no denying that a part of me enjoyed that – enjoyed his fist tightening in my hair and hearing him voice his pleasure when he climaxed. And my damp panties and pounding heart signal that I’m not ready for the night to be over. Feelings of shame slam against me. I shouldn’t have enjoyed any part of that. God, what was wrong with me?
 
Drake rises from the couch and strides from the room without a backward glance, leaving me sitting alone on the carpeting.
 
Several moments later I hear sounds coming from a nearby room and since I know it’s just me and him in the house, I go to investigate.
 
I find him in the kitchen, a bottle of beer lifted to his lips and the thick column of his throat moving as he swallows long gulps of the icy liquid.
 
The kitchen is immaculate. My eyes wander from the elegant white and grey marbled countertops to the rich wood cabinets to the state of the art stainless steel appliances gleaming all shiny and new. A large basket sits atop the island overflowing with baguettes, heads of garlic, lemons and what I assume are pomegranates. I wonder if he likes to cook.
 
"You want anything to eat?" he asks, lowering the bottle, but still not turning to face me.
 
"No thanks." I haven’t eaten, but food is the last thing on my mind. "Maybe just some water," I answer.
 
He shoots me a knowing grin and my cheeks heat. Yes, I need to wash the taste of his semen from my mouth and apparently we are both thinking it. He grabs a bottle of water from the large commercial grade double door stainless steel refrigerator and twists off the cap before handing it to me.
 
"Thanks," I murmur, taking a long sip. I feel the cool water sink to the bottom of my empty belly. It’s refreshing and crisp. My first bit of peace since this whole evening started. I drain half of the bottle while gazing around the kitchen.
 
I spot a block of knives near the eight-burner gas stove and an errant thought passes through my brain. I could hurt him and escape. But why would I do that? He’s given me exactly what I wanted. Instead I finish my water in silence while he continues to watch me curiously.
 
 
 
 
 
Colton
 
 
 
 
This wasn’t a first date – there wasn’t an order to adhere to. There was no need to round first base and kiss her like that before she sucked my cock. She is mine to do with what I please. I could have fucked her in the ass on the kitchen table if I’d wanted. And believe me, the thought crossed my mind. When I’d watched her bend over my bike and set the helmet on the seat, I wanted to bite into her ass like an apple. Then take her plump cheeks into my hands and drive forward into the center of them, maybe smack her ass too for making me have such depraved thoughts. Instead I’d acted like a concerned boyfriend, kissing her lips and making sure she was in the right frame of mind before using her for my pleasure. And fuck, her mouth had been perfect. Warm and soft and eager to please. I guess knowing someone had just paid a small fortune for your company ensured good service.
 
Coming on her tongue wasn’t enough. After, I’d wanted to strip her naked and fuck her hard, ending by jerking off on her tits to mark her and show her she was mine. But there’ll be time for that later.
 
I want to know her story. She seems like a nice, normal girl – too nice for the sick shit I’m pulling her into. But her reasons for being here aren’t my concern. Just like my reasons for obtaining her aren’t any of hers. She doesn’t need to know my past, the only things she needs to know are that I like my cock sucked regularly, I have a healthy appetite for sex and not to disturb me when I’m working. And I need to remember she’s here for one purpose. If so, this arrangement will work out fine, and leave us both satisfied.
 
"Let’s go to bed, tomorrow will be a long day and you’ll need your rest."
 
Her skittish blue eyes dart to mine again and she nods tentatively. She wants to know when I’m going to fuck her. I guess she’ll have to wait and see.
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter Three
 
 
 
 
 
Sophie
 
 
 
 
 
Once upstairs we pass by several doors and continue on down the long hall. When we reach the master bedroom, I grow quiet, taking it all in. The room is huge, with a king sized bed and an upholstered headboard, tables with lamps, and a chaise lounge chair in front of a gas fireplace. The décor is contemporary and simple in tones of light gray and cream with splashes of blue as accents. Everything looks brand new.
 
"Master bath." He points off to the side of the bedroom suite.
 
His one word responses and grunts ever since I’d pleasured him are grating on my nerves. Why is he acting so detached and strange? "I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong…" I start.
 
Drake’s eyes lift to mine. "Get undressed, Sophie."
 
A gasp of breath sticks in my throat. "What?"
 
"You heard me."
 
We’re standing in the center of his bedroom with all the lights on. And his dark eyes are hungry and roaming over me. Even though I’m still fully clothed, I’ve never felt more exposed. His intense gaze holds the power to make me feel vulnerable and bare like no one has before.
 
With trembling hands, I unbutton my jeans and slide them down my legs, letting them puddle to the floor at my ankles, where I kick them off and toe them aside. I forget trying to be sexy. I’ve never given a sexy strip tease in my life, and I have a feeling if I try to start now, I’ll only look like a foolish little girl. Next I lift my shirt over my head and remove it, depositing it with the jeans. I try to suck in my stomach and stand taller to best show off my assets. God, I feel like a piece of art work on display. And worse, why am I so desperate for this man’s approval?
 
"Don’t," he says, his voice low.
 
I swallow and release the breath I’ve been holding, my shoulders relaxing and my body returning to its natural state. I stare straight ahead, meeting his eyes, unflinching, and not daring to look away. Something inside me feels rebellious and strong, even though I’m obviously the one in the weaker position right now.
 
"Take off your bra," he says next, his voice a rough growl.