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Her squeals turned into moans of pain, which attracted the beast inside of me. My hunger knew no bounds and while there was little I enjoyed more than reminding her I was in absolute control of her destiny, I had other more prominent needs.
The whooshing sound was beautiful music, the red marks already forming on her rounded buttocks delightful. Sadly, they’d fade much like the late afternoon light was doing. But not before I took everything that belonged to me.
I crisscrossed several stripes on her upper thighs, marveling how her body bucked and her pussy glistened as she tried to be the good girl I’d taught her to be.
My cock was aching to the same level of pain I knew she was experiencing. After providing her with six additional strikes, I tossed the switch aside, immediately freeing my cock.
When I drove the entire length into her wetness, she let out an electrifying scream.
Different from the cries of men enduring torture, her moans of passion brought additional salacious desires.
With my cock fully seated inside, I crushed the full weight of my body against hers, yanking one arm over her head then the other. As I intertwined our fingers, I nuzzled my face into her warm cheek, wet from perspiring. “You should know better than to think you could get away from me.”
I pulled out, slamming into her again and again, until the rhythm was perfection. This wasn’t about romance or elongating the moment. The brutal action was about filling her with my seed, claiming her in the wild.
And within seconds, I wasn’t interested in holding on any longer, erupting deep inside of her, as she came around my cock. I threw back my head, roaring as if I was nothing more than a predatory animal.
The truth had never failed me. That’s exactly what I’d become.
CHAPTER 1
Easton
A wise man had once said that men were most vulnerable when they were cocky. They made mistakes. They acted as if their shit didn’t stink.
I was here to tell the world who I considered the vilest of human beings.
That was saying a lot given I wasn’t a decent man by anyone’s standards.
Maybe that’s why I’d become a crusader of innocent victims, something most people would call laughable. Perhaps it was my attempt at salvation.
I knew better of course. Monsters like me went straight to hell. There was no such thing as a ‘get out of jail free’ card.
As I took a gulp of my drink, the rage I’d felt earlier was increasing, which didn’t bode well for the person responsible for boosting my fury.
He and his buddies were laughing, encouraging and applauding the alpha pig’s indecent actions. Fuck them all. If I had enough time, they’d all face punishment. However, I was a prudent man, careful in my actions. That’s the reason I’d remained under the radar. But tonight? I was hungry to spill blood.
The useless piece of human flesh who was continually taunting a sweet cocktail waitress was a cockroach needing to be crushed. He was also an arrogant son of a bitch, laughing with his three buddies while they shot their second game of pool, sucking down enough cheap whiskey I was surprised they could function.
Their loud voices were enough to annoy the crowd, including a dozen rugged men who often came to the local watering hole to fight off demons or empower them after a hard day’s work.
I watched the young men from the shadows from where I sat at the end of the aging wooden bar. Instead of indulging in cheap rotgut shit, I was enjoying my favorite Kentucky whiskey, the special edition ordered just for me since I was a very good customer. In fact, Roxie’s was one of two bars I frequented on a somewhat regular basis. This one was located in an area of Chicago far removed from my estate or the opulent college where I worked.
The other was a stone’s throw away from the illustrious school. Frequenting it with a buddy of mine allowed me to appear normal.
If there was such a thing in my world.
However, Roxie’s allowed me privacy, moments of anonymity where I could feed the darkness lurking in my soul. Usually, I had two drinks and left, but tonight was entirely different, my violent needs requiring some attention. And I’d found the perfect opportunity and subject.
The stupid fucking asshole who couldn’t keep his hands off the waitress.
By now, she was in a fit of tears, doing her best to remain strong.
I was angry, furious inside. Any man who assaulted a woman should be castrated. Maybe that’s what I’d enjoy tonight. I hadn’t allowed myself to engage in such dangerous activities in months, doing what I could to maintain and nurture my upper echelon aspect of the wealthy Chicago society.
I pulled the glass to my lips, darting my eyes toward the activity on the other side of the bar. I didn’t want to draw any attention to my increasing anger, or that I was paying any attention to the jokers’ activities, yet I had to admit tonight it was difficult to ignore. After a quick reminder that I was someone of importance, my family considered notorious as well as powerful, I polished off my third drink.
This was my escape, my way of feeding the ugly beast inside.
