Haunting Temptation

I would like to issue a sincere and explicit warning regarding the content of this novel. The narrative delves into sensitive and mature themes, including sexual harassment, rape, drug use, thoughts of killing, stalking, kidnapping, torture, 18+ rated content, suicidal thoughts, and physical abuse. These elements are integral to the story and are portrayed in a realistic and unflinching manner.

Please be advised that this novel is intended for mature audiences only, and its contents may be distressing, triggering, or offensive to some readers. It is crucial to approach this material with caution and discretion, considering your own emotional well-being and comfort level with such challenging subject matter.

If you find yourself uncomfortable or disturbed by explicit content, I strongly advise against reading this novel. It is important to prioritize your mental and emotional health and make an informed decision based on your personal boundaries.

. . . . .

With unwavering focus, I delicately traced the contours of my lips, the deep crimson of the lipstick invoking a chilling recollection of that ominous night.

The velvety texture seemed to mimic the haunting richness of blood, a stark reminder of the life I had willingly extinguished. As the scarlet hue intensified, so did the memories-the cold steel of the blade in my grasp, the surge of adrenaline, and the aftermath bathed in both horror and a twisted sense of beauty.

In that transformative moment, the lipstick became more than a cosmetic; it metamorphosed into a silent accomplice, a connection between the shades of desires and the darkness that had consumed me. With each stroke, I wore the echoes of my past, unapologetically adorned in the tangible remnants of my liberation.

The rich symbolism of that crimson veil silently declared my freedom from his chains, a proclamation of a woman reborn in the shadows of her own merciless actions.

The transition from the small town to the pulsating heart of the city marked the genesis of my metamorphosis. The city's neon lights and relentless rhythm fueled an insatiable hunger within me, a hunger that transcended mere survival. I shed the remnants of my past self like a snake discarding its skin, emerging as someone unrecognizable-a woman who reveled in the intoxicating power the city offered. No longer bound by societal norms, I began to view man as pawns in the game I had learned to master.

The allure of expensive gifts became my currency, and the men who provided them, unwittingly, became mere playthings in my elaborate and darkly satisfying game. No one was exclusive; each encounter was a fleeing chapter in the narrative of my newfound existence. I reveled in the thrill of indulgence, staying entangled with one man for a week or two, extracting whatever pleasure and financial gain I desired before ruthlessly severing the ties.

A VIP apartment, a lavish gift from a transient lover upon my arrival in New York, became my sanctuary-a testament to the transient nature of my relationships. Just two weeks into the opulent arrangement, I found myself weary, bored of the man who had played the role of benefactor. The confines of exclusivity felt suffocating, and with an unapologetic grace, I shattered the illusion of commitment.

My days became a mosaic of luxury, filled with shopping sprees, extravagant dates, and perfect sex. The city was my playground, and I, the orchestra of desire, reveled in the shadows, navigating the complexities of passion with the detached precision of a sculptor molding clay. Each breakup was a symphony of liberation, a prelude to the next chapter of my dark and tantalizing journey through the city of labyrinthine streets.

The Dior limited new black dress clung to my curves like a second skin, a dark canvas that accentuated the contours of desire. Its deep neckline was a deliberate invitation, revealing a hint of cleavage that spot both confidence and allure. A daring cut at one leg soared to my thighs, a provocative declaration of the power I wielded. As I brushed my wavy brown hair that cascaded like a waterfall, kissing my waist with every graceful movement, I caught the fleeting glimpse of myself in the mirror. The reflection confirmed what I had long known-I was undeniably, irresistibly, pretty.

Tonight's date wasn't just any encounter; it was a rendezvous with a handsome and hot billionaire, a tantalizing prospect that had arisen from the ashes of a lackluster liaison. My previous date, while handsome and financially endowed, had faltered in the realm of physical satisfaction. His gifts were extravagant, but his size and inadequacies in the bedroom had led me to master the art of simulated ecstasy.

Le Bernardin, the stage for our evening, promised an opulent backdrop to our liaison. Excitement bubbled within me as I envisioned the snapshots for my Instagram feed – a visual testament to my conquests and the grandeur that surrounded them. The anticipation was palpable as I envisioned the night unfolding, hoping the billionaire's prowess would match the wealth he flaunted.

The prospect of a wild sex danced in my mind, a fantasy of wild passion that could potentially culminate in a departure with a glistening diamond necklace. The anticipation fueled a dark thrill, a rush that echoed the city's relentless heartbeat. I craved not only the taste of exquisite cuisine at Le Bernardin but also his mouth on my breast and his hands on my body. His restless breaths as he takes me.

As I applied the finishing touches of my makeup, a sinister smile played on my lips. Tonight's encounter wasn't just a date; it was a strategic move in the intricate game I played with the hearts and fortunes of those who dared to enter my orbit. The black dress, the wavy brown hair, the anticipation of a night at Le Bernardin – all were but components of the allure I cast, a carefully curated façade that masked the dark desires and ambitions that lay beneath the surface.

The distant hum of the car horn signals his arrival, a familiar melody that reverberates though the silent anticipation of the night. I steal one last glance at myself in the mirror, ensuring the facade is flawless, concealing the complexities beneath. The doorbell chimes, and with a final sweep of my wavy hair, I step into the allure that awaits beyond.

There he stands, a vision of masculine refinement.

His handsome visage boasts a sharp jawline, fain skin that practically glows, muscles sculpted beneath a perfectly fitted black suit, and shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of the money that he owns. Arched brows frame puppy eyes that could disarm the most graduated hearts, while his straight nose and nude-tinted lips add a touch of rugged allure. Everything about him whispers of opulence and sophistication, a walking embodiment of brands and affluence.

As I approach, he opens the door with a courtesy that feels almost rehearsed, a seamless dance of practiced charm. His grey Valhalla Martini is as impeccably chosen as the suit, a reflection of taste that extends beyond mere aesthetics. The scent of his warm wood and dry berries perfume envelops me as he gestures for me to enter.

En route to our designation, I steal covert glances at him while he maneuvers the car with effortless grace. A wave of bittersweet longing washes over me as I recognize the blissful pain my heart-a realization that such a man, with his allure and gentility, is an unattainable fantasy destined to remain beyond my grasp. The dichotomy of desire and despair lingers, weaving its tendrils through the fabric of our shared silence.

Upon reaching the restaurant, he opens the door for me, a gesture that feels both genuine and practiced. The flicker of a fleeting thought crosses my mind as he tosses the car keys to valet, a metaphorical exchange of control that echoes the intricate dynamics of the evening. The night unfolds like a choreographed dance, a delicate balance between desire, illusion, and the impending revelation of the shadows that lurk beneath our polished exteriors.

As we step into the grandeur of the restaurant, the sheer expanse of the restaurant unfolds before us-simple yet lavish, a testament to the opulence that surrounds our clandestine encounter. The tables are pristine, bathed in soft, muted lights that casts a romantic aura over the entire space. The air is purified, carrying a subtle hint of anticipation.

A colossal table, adorned with five pots bursting with white flowers, commands attention at the center of the room. Against a backdrop of wooden wallpaper, the blossom exudes an ethereal beauty that captivates the senses. The lighting is deliberately dim, creating an intimate atmosphere that beckoned whispered secrets and stolen glances. Behind the floral arrangements, a large frame of tranquil green water adds an element of serenity to the luxurious ambiance.

A courteous waiter, attentive to the choreography of fine dining, approaches us with a bow. "Sir can you tell me under which name the reservation is?" he inquires.

The response effortlessly comes from my date, "Zion Lain."

With a nod the waiter guides us to a table adorned with a pristine white sheet and solitary candle stand, it's flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the canvas of our clandestine rendezvous.

As we settle into our seats, he extends a hand, a gesture of chivalry that doesn't go unnoticed. The girl within me revels in the display of good manners, yet beneath the surface, a primal desire simmers-a craving to witness the untamed facets of this enigmatic man.

Imagining his sweaty and warm body over mine, his mouth tracing all my curves and his lips on my breast and his wild side in the intimate confines of a bed becomes an intoxicating daydream, a vivid fantasy that promises to unfold under the right circumstances.

The anticipation lingers like a fine mist between us, the unspoken understanding that this evening holds the potential to transcend the boundaries of social norms. With every fleeting touch, with every shared gaze, the promise of passionate encounter becomes a palpable reality-one that I eagerly yearn to explore in the embrace of his warm and sweaty body, a hidden dance in the shadows of our shared desires.

The evening was nothing short but fabulous. From the moment we stepped into the dimly lit restaurant, the ambiance was enchanting. Zion and I had a really good time, immersed in laughter and conversation that flowed effortlessly.

As we perused the menu, I couldn't resist capturing a candid moment of him with my phone. He was so engrossed in making his choice, his face partially hidden behind the menu. It was the kind of snapshot that begged to be shared on the Instagram, a subtle mystery shrouding his features.

Our discussion delved into the realm of favorite things. I found myself weaving tales, concealing the intricacies of my expertise in betrayal and heartbreak. In this dance of words, my truth remained carefully veiled, adding a layer of mystery to the evening.

His gaze, however, was far from mysterious. It lingered, often dipping a bit low. I couldn't help but notice his fixation, particularly on the subtle curve of my cleavage. It was a bold acknowledgment that sent a shiver down my spine, a secret exchange that lingered between us.

After the plates were cleared and the last sip of wine savored, the air thickened with unspoken desires. As we left the restaurant, a decision hung in the air. He suggested taking our relationship to physical level, a proposition that carried the weight of anticipation.

In the darkness of the night, the shadows played on our faces, revealing only fragments of truth. The evening had been one of the masterpiece of my deception, a prelude to the enigmatic dance that awaited us in the realm of dark romance.

On our way home, a mischievous current coursed through me, igniting a playful spark in the depths of my being. A subtle pang of naughtiness beckoned, urging me to tease Zion, to captivate his attention in the silent confines of the night.

The city lights blurred outside the car window, casting an ethereal glow upon the streets. My fingers traced the idle patterns on the seat, a physical manifestation of the tantalizing thoughts weaving through my mind. The air between us thickened with unspoken tension, an uncharted territory of desire.

I glance at Zion, his profile bathed in the soft glow of passing streetlights. His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, unaware of the storm brewing within me. The anticipation hung in the air, a silent challenge I was ear to embrace.

With a subtle shift, I leaned closer, the warmth of my breath grazing his ear. A whisper, laced with the sweet poison of temptation, escaped my lips. "You enjoyed the dinner, didn't you?" the words lingered, a subtle invitation that dance on the edge of innocence and provocation.

His eyes meet mine in a fleeting moment, a flicker of recognition passing between us. The tension escalated, a magnetic force pulling us into the uncharted territory of lust and desire. The city lights continued their mesmerizing dance, casting shadows that mirror the complexities of our hidden connection.

As the car glided through the night, the thrill of the unknown enveloped us. The journey home became a canvas for the unspoken, a prelude to the wilder side that awaited, fueled by the electric charge of a teasing game played in the shadow of desires.

Zion grinned over me his gaze falling on to my bare thighs. I followed his gaze and crossed my leg hiking the cut on my thighs just a little too much and glancing back at him. His eyes were already hungry, making them dark and droop slightly. I love this look. That look very, very good for me.

"Driving is serious business, Mr. Lain." I said teasingly. "Letting your attention lingered from the task on hands could be dangerous for both of us." I grinned, tugging a strand of my wavy brown hair behind my ear.

He raised his eyebrows, his expression becoming darker, and turned back to the front window. The car moved forward, Zion speeding up, and shifting into third gear easily. I crossed my leg in other direction and ran a finger up my thigh, just stopping at the cut on my dress. I glanced at Zion and his eyes were focused on my fingers. He tried to focus on the driving but I was distracting him.

I let my finger trail higher, hiking the cut higher now so my black lace panties were showing. I glanced at Zion and his lips parted slightly and his hungry to see what I can do next. As I watched him, he swallowed heavily and begin to look at the front window and then back to me.

I reached the down the front of my panties and leaned my head back on the seat, closing my eyes and moaning softly. I heard a hitched breath from his throat. I arched my back as the finger slid further, finally reaching the thick wetness in between my thighs. I brought some of it on my small clit, waves of pleasure shooting out from my own touch. I moaned again and the car lurched.

I used my finger to stroke myself, burst of pure pleasure making me gasp out and press my finger harder.

Suddenly I was jerked forward as the car came to a sudden stop, my eyes flew open as Zion pull the emergency brake up and push me gently backwards onto the seat as he crawled over me. The look on his face was intense and dark, it made my insides clench. He leaned down and kissed my neck as I tangled my fingers in his blonde hair and moan out.

He leaned up very briefly to bring my panties down and I arched my hips up so that they slid over my ass and down my legs. My entire body was screaming with desire, an intense throb in between my legs. Zion leaned back and open my thighs and gazed at me for several seconds before leaning down at my core and just breathing. I gasped at the feel of his nose rubbing over my core and his warm breath washing over the sensitive parts. "Please," I moaned, tangling my fingers through his hair.

I had taken the pleasure from men in several ways but Zion had something new to offer. I waited, holding my breath and when the first stroke of his tongue touched my folds, I pressed my core against his mouth and moan out. The pulsing in my core grew stronger, my excitement grew more as he began circling his tongue over my small clit. He moved faster and faster, the warm, the slick wetness of his tongue gliding over me and his warm breath coming out in pants against my folds as his hands gripped my thighs, holding me to open to him.

Oh God, it was perfect.

An orgasm shimmered inside me in beautiful pulses of light before I ignite completely, bucking upward in Zion's mouth and crying out his name, "Zion, Zion. Oh God, yes." I breathed out.

I came back to myself as I felt his warmth against my stomach and he grinned at me.

A sudden, resounding knock echoed through the silent night, causing my heart to race. Zion and I exchanged puzzled glances, both unsure of what could be happening. With a cautious approach, he made his way back to passenger seat, my eyes widened at the sight of police officer standing there.

Embarrassment instantly crept up my cheeks, turning them a shade of crimson, as Zion pushed down the window, letting in a chilly breeze that added to the awkward atmosphere. The officer, a stern expression etched on his face, peered at us with a suspicious gaze.

"Is everything alright, here?" he inquired, his voice carrying the authority of law. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. Zion, ever the composed one, assured the officer. "Yeah, everything is fine. Just a quiet night." His deep husky voice resonated in the silent night.

The officer's eyes narrowed, and I couldn't shake the feeling of judgement that hung in the air. His gaze slid over to me, embarrassment deepened its hold as our eyes briefly locked. In that moment, I wish I could disappear.

Zion, seemingly oblivious to the tension, continued, "We're just relaxing, officer, nothing to worry about." But the officer's glance, filled with a hint of disapproval, lingered on me a beat too long.

Summoning every ounce of composure, I managed to stammer, "Um, yes officer. Everything is fine. Really," I forced a smile, hoping to alleviate the uneasy situation.

The officer, seemingly satisfied, shifted his attention away from us. "Be careful on the road, and try not to make out on public places." He advised, a slight edge of sarcasm in his tone. I felt my embarrassment transform into a defiant smirk as I nodded in agreement.

"Of course, officer. We'll keep that in mind," I replied, my tone light and feigned innocence.

The officer gave us a parting nod, cautioning, "Just be mindful. Have a good night," And with that, he left, his footsteps echoing down the empty road.

As he left, I could not help but let out a nervous laugh. "Well that was unexpected," I remarked, attempting to diffuse the tension. Zion, however wore a dark expression, clearly perturbed by the officer's remark.

"Public indecency? Really?" he muttered, more to himself that to me. I couldn't help but smile to myself, finding a strange satisfaction in the encounter. Little did the officer know, his disapproval only fueled the flames of our forbidden romance.

A mischievous grin played on my lips.

The encounter with the police officer had stirred something within me, an impulsive desire for rebellion. I move closer to Zion, my eyes locked onto his, a silent promise of mischief passing between us. Without a word, I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of his ear. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, evident in the subtle tensing of his muscles. With a glance, I let my tongue to trace the contours of his ear, a teasing dance that left him frozen on the spot.

A wicked satisfaction filled me as I pulled away, his stunned expression giving way to a mix of confusion and desire. In that moment, I knew I had him right where I wanted.

His eyes met mine, a silent question lingering in the air. But before he could find the words, I took a bold step forward, my fingers entwining with the soft fabric of his tie. With a swift, almost predatory move, I yanked him closer our lips colliding in a fierce and hungry kiss.

Our mouths melded together in a passionate fusion, tongues probing and dancing in an intimate rhythm. The sound of our kiss echoed in the confined space of the car, the smacking lips drowning out any other noise. Every touch, every caress, felt like a rebellious act, a defiance against the rules that sought to bind us.

I could feel the intensity building, a fire kindling between us that threatened to consume everything in its path. His hands found their way to my waist. Pulling me even closer, as the car became a cocoon of desire. As we broke away, breathless and flushed, a wicked gleam sparkled in my eyes. The taste of rebellion lingered on our lips, a potent cocktail of danger and desire. In that moment, we were untamed.

"Suck my dick," he said, hungrily as he pulled out of our passionate kiss. "Can you do a blowjob while I drive?"

I smirked. "Depends on how much you're willing to pay for my throat. And the assurance that you will not crash the car while I suck you off."

He sighed, "You will also suck my wallet off." he chuckled. He started his car and I started to unbuckle his pants, opening the zipper, my eyes widening as I stared at his size. I flicked my tongue over the head of his cock and licked the sweet beads of his pre-cum before I took him fully in my mouth. He didn't respond. He couldn't.

Everything ceased to exist leaving the warmth of his big cock in mouth, and I was sure heaven itself couldn't feel any better than this. My blood coursed through me like a wild fire, and my heart pumped with lust and desire, as he tangled one of his hand in my hair. I tried to fit him all down my throat but he too big for me and the position is too awkward.

He let out a muffled moan.

"Tell me if it's too much for you," he slid the head of his cock on my lips before slamming the full length into my mouth. I choked on his length and my eyes filled burning tears, and I pulled it out just leaving the head in my mouth. And without any warning he pushed his entire length inside, making me choke on the size and length.

My coughs eased, replaced with moans that sent tiny vibration of pleasure to my core, and my fingers reached down to stoke my core. "That's it," he growled, "Take every inch of my cock, like a good girl."

Sweat beaded on his skin as I drove his cock in and out of my mouth until I choked on it. The pulsing warmth of his cock, and the sight of his balls hitting on my face...

His cock flinched and I felt warm liquid inside my mouth as his cock twitched. By the time he was finished, I had another thunder of orgasm, our ragged breath a mixture of lust, and the air heavy with scent of air.

By the time I was completed with the blowjob, Zion's mansion loomed in the distance like a silent fortress, its grandeur matching the enigma of the man himself. As we neared the mansion, a peculiar sense of accomplishment washed over me.

The mansion's gates swung open, I couldn't help but be impressed by the seamless blend of the carnal and the calculated, a duality that defined our unconventional relation.

The engine purred to a halt, and as the car's vibrations settled, so did the lingering echoes of our shared journey. The mansion's imposing facade mirrored the complexity of our connection, a dark romance written in the language of desire, secrecy, and the unspoken. Little did I know, within those opulent walls, a new chapter of our story awaited, promising to unfold in the shadows of passion and the intricacies of a forbidden love.

Zion's firm grip tightens around my waist, pulling me into an embrace that sets my heart racing. As his lips meet mine, a wave of intense desire washes over me, consuming my every thought. The kiss is filled with a raw, primal need, our tongues entwined in a battle for dominance.

Pressed against the door, I feel the hard strength of his body against mine, his lips trailing a path of fiery kisses along my neck. A soft moan escapes my lips, a testament to the pleasure that courses through me. His lips return to mine with a renewed hunger, the kiss growing hotter and more passionate with each passing moment.

His hands explore my body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fire within me that cannot be contained. As he firmly grasps my ass, a surge of longing courses through me, making me yearn for his touch. Our bodies move as one, guided by an irresistible force, as we make our way into the room.

Zion, however, leaves me standing at the doorway, my body trembling with anticipation. He pours himself a glass of wine, his eyes never leaving mine, as if he knows the effect he has on me. With a seductive smile, he settles on the bed, beckoning me to join him.

The air is thick with desire and the room is charged with electricity as he softly commands, "Take off your dress." In that moment, I am torn between the intoxicating power he holds over me and the thrilling unknown that lies ahead.

Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage and step forward, ready to surrender to the alluring darkness that surrounds us. In his presence, I feel both vulnerable and alive, knowing that in this dance of passion and danger, there is no turning back.

My dress slipped down, pooling around my ankles, leaving me in just my lacy black bra and panties. A mix of anticipation and the cool air sent shivers down my spine. Zion sat there in the dim light, his face hidden, but I could feel the intensity of his gaze on me. It was possessive, like a lover's touch, sending delicious goosebumps across my skin.

I moistened my lips, yearning to reach out and touch him, but I knew better than to move without his command. And then, in a voice that held both power and desire, he spoke. "Bra Off." Without hesitation, I unclasped the black lace and let it fall to the floor, joining the discarded green silk.

As I started to remove my panties, a deep growl stopped me in my tracks. Zion's eyes remained fixed one my breasts, causing my already hardened nipples to tighten even more. "I didn't tell you to do that," he said his voice soft yet commanding. "Crawl to me."

My breath caught in my throat, a mixture of shock and arousal flooding through me. I had never crawled for anyone before, especially while nearly naked. Many billionaires came and go but never ever in my life I did such disrespectful thing but the thought of it sent a surge of excitement through my veins, making me crave the forbidden.

Without trembling anticipation, I lowered myself to my hands and knees, feeling the coolness of the floor against my bare skin. The room seemed to stretch out before me, every inch pregnant with possibility. And so I began to crawl, each movement a testament to my surrender and willingness to explore the depths of pleasure and desire.

My breathing came in ragged gasps, and the wetness between my thighs caused them to slide against each other. By the time I reached Zion, I could feel the evidence of desire trickling down my legs.

I stopped at his feet, looking up at him.

Though his face remained enigmatic, the fire in his burned with intensity. "Good girl." He murmured, gripping my hair tightly with one hand while using the other to unbuckle his pants. His cock sprang out, thick and hard, the tip glistening with anticipation.

Oh, now I longed to tease him. No one had ever ignited such a primal desire within me. His every word, touch, and glance sent shivers down my spine. I craved it all tonight.

With pleading eyes, I stared up at him, silently begging for permission.

Zion barely nodded before I took him into my mouth again, relishing his moans and the way he tugged at my hair as I eagerly licked and sucked. "Do you like that baby girl?" he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper until it brushed against the back of my throat. I sputtered, my eyes watering from his sheer size. "How does it feel crawling and choking on my cock?"

I moaned in response, unable to form coherent words. My hand instinctively drifted between my legs, seeking pleasure, but before I could make contact, he yanked me up and captured my mouth in a forceful, sloppy kiss.

I could taste the desire on his tongue, and the roughness of hands gripping my ass only intensified the sensation running through me. "Euphoric," I confessed hoping he would understand the depth of my need amidst our haze of lust.

Zion responded with a caustic tone, "Yeah, I can get you off, too. Bet no one in the world can fuck you the way I would do."

I didn't take the bait, "Then show me." I insisted more like a challenge.

His touch softened briefly before he swiftly spun me around and bent me over the table, pressing his body against mine until we were completely intertwined.

As he lowered his mouth to my ear, he tangled his hand with mine. His voice, hoarse and raw, brushed against my skin as he spoke, "I want you to understand something, baby girl." He held my chin firmly with his free hand. "Never. Challenge. Me. Again."

My heart and body ached, but for entirely different reasons.

Zion let out a harsh, trembling breath as he pulled away from me. I was about to protest, but before I could, he forcefully spread my thighs apart and swiftly removed my underwear.

A ball of anticipation tightened in my stomach, the tension building within me. "There's something you should know," he said, dragging two fingers through my wetness before pushing them into my mouth, making me taste myself. An unexpected moan escaped my lips as the unfamiliar flavor danced in my tongue. "There is no going back from this now."

I knew I had gotten myself into trouble the moment those words slipped out. "But perhaps you need to know that you are my slut tonight," Zion remarked. His thumb rubbed over my small swollen clit, and then his palm landed where his thumb had been. My body jerked, and a mixture of surprise and pain escaped my throat, but his fingers in my mouth muffled the sound.

His palm struck my core again with a resounding slap.

And again.

And again.

I trembled, tears welling up in my eyes as the intense sensations coursed through me. My entire world narrowed down to the pulsating heat between my legs and the man who administered both pain and pleasure with equal measure.

"Who does your pussy belong to?" he removed his fingers from my mouth and squeeze my boob.

"You," I gasped, gripping the edge of the table so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

Another lie.

Another lustful night.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice hard, commanding, and authoritative.

"You! My pussy belongs to you," I sobbed, my voice breaking as he delivered another stinging slap to my clit.

"That's right. It belongs to me, and don't you forget it," he said delivering another slap.

I let out a keening wail, torn between trying to push away and pushing back harder against him. I couldn't decipher whether I loved or hated what was happening, but I knew I was dripping and burning, every scrape of my nipples against the wooden table sending a surge of heat straight to my throbbing clit.

"You're so wet, baby girl," he continued, his voice filled with a mix of desire and dominance, "You should see how pretty and swollen your clit looks right now. It's begging for me to spank it harder." SLAP.

It was overwhelming.

The words, the brutal and filthy desire, and then it happened.

I exploded.

It was intense, long, and violent. My ears buzzed, my knees buckled, and showers of lights burst behind my eyes. I would have collapsed to the floor if Zion hadn't held me while the most powerful of the night ripped through me like an electric storm. I had to bite his neck to stifle my screams.

I was still riding the waves of my mind-shattering release when I felt Zion's tongue gently stroke my clit, soothing away the burn.

Just as I was gathering myself together, he stood up and slowly pushed his cock inside me. He withdrew with same slowness, leaving just the tip inside, and paused. I inhaled, but my first real breath of the night turned into squeal when he suddenly slammed into me with a fierce thrust. His fist in my hair kept me in place as he bottomed out with each downward stroke. The contrast between the gentleness of his entry and the savage fury of his fucking scrambled my senses. I could only hold on to the table for my dear life.

In and out. Harder and faster each time. The tingles at the base of my spine came back to life, and I crashed over the edge again. "Oh, God, Zion," I moaned.

"That's it, baby girl," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. His movements grew jerkier, indicating he was close to coming too. "Such a good girl. Come for me."

I did, endlessly and unashamedly, breaking into a million pieces around him. And as Zion, too, came with a loud groan, I wondered if how he would face my betrayal and heartbreak.