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“What are you doing?” I ask as he begins dialing a number.
“Leaving myself a voicemail,” he replies as the phone in his pants rings.
After a moment, it goes to voicemail, and he holds it up to my mouth. “Tell me what a fucking good whore you are. I want to hear it.”
He digs in deeper and I moan. “Fuck, I’m your whore!”
“Good girl,” he coos. “Now, you’re going to cum for me. Make sure you moan nice and loud. I’m going to jerk off to it later.”
As he says this, neither of us are able to hold back any longer. He releases inside of me, spilling himself into my depths, pumping me full. I can feel the swell of his cock challenging me to stretch just a bit further, the dull, aching pleasure returning in my core and causing me to ride up to a second climax as he digs in all the way to the hilt.
He holds me tightly as I cum, pressing my face into his thick, muscular chest along with the phone. I can hear his heart beating fast, but it slows as we remain still in this position long after we’ve both finished.
He’s first to pull away, slamming the phone down and grabbing his pants. He pulls them up, belt jingling as he quickly reclaims his authoritative poise. He has his shirt on faster than I can find my pants on the floor, and he watches me as I gather up my belongings, cum running down the inside of my thigh.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold up a finger to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever you’re going to say, I’m not interested.”
He closes his mouth, but smirks. I knew it was going to be something stupid and self-serving.
Once dressed, I pull my hair back in a ponytail and make my way around the desk to retrieve the money I owe him. I pull it out, counting each bill before handing it to him. “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you for that.”
“So, it’s on the house?” he asks, raising a thick eyebrow as he takes the money.
“Don’t get used to it,” I reply, trying hard not to smile but failing miserably.
15
Savva
Fuck, I’m your whore!
I could listen to Oakley’s sweet American voice a million times over and I’d never grow tired of it. She sounds so pure, so delicious and submissive that I’m tempted to go back to Smoke, Steel, & Whiskey to fuck her again.
I always want to go back for more, and it’s going to get me in trouble eventually. I won’t be able to work if all I can do is fuck Oakley over and over again. I wonder what Angus would say if he knew what I was doing to his daughter…
I recline on my couch, watching the smoke rise in the air as I take slow, sweet drags of the last cigarette in my pack. Maybe it’ll be the last pack I buy.
Probably not.
I listen to the voicemail six more times before I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. At this hour, I know that it can only be one person, but I don’t want to answer him. If Pasha wants to be let in, I know it’s because he has bad news.
“Fuck,” I grumble, getting up from the couch and dousing my cigarette in the cold tea that’s been sitting out on my coffee table since this morning. I feel like knocking the damn thing onto the floor, but I remain in control of myself. I’ve been reckless enough already.
Besides, maybe it’s not bad news.
I throw open the door as Pasha knocks again. He never waits long enough for me to come. He must think I’m sleeping or something, but there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep tonight when I can listen to Oakley orgasm on repeat through my phone.
“What do you want now?” I ask, blinking at the unexpected light from behind him.
Is it morning already?
“Can I come inside?” he asks.
“Yes, yes, come on,” I reply, impatiently beckoning him in and slamming the door shut. “I’m assuming that since you’ve thought it appropriate to come around so late at night that the entire world is burning to the ground or something.”
We walk into the living room and he laughs a bit. “I mean, it’s not really night anymore. It’s almost seven. I figured you might be awake by now, but it appears as though you may not have ever went to sleep.”
“I was out late last night.”
