Pet: A Dark Menage Romance Page 10

  On the ride home, which took about an hour, I finally pulled out my phone and turned it on.

  I kind of expected silence. I thought maybe she would’ve sulked after not getting a reply from me, gone quiet and ignored me to try and punish me for not calling her back.

  But no.

  My phone pinged once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  And then I stopped counting and started looking.

  There were pictures, videos, texts. There were voicemails. There were threats, there were random thoughts, there were tears. She gave me everything on a silver platter.

  I scrolled through the pictures first.

  Sexy.

  Sweet.

  Some were fucking unbelievably hot. Close-ups of her dripping wet pussy.

  Then the voicemails.

  A lot of crying, a lot of begging.

  Messages filled with empty threats.

  And the videos, the fucking videos.

  So many of her pussy. So many of her disobeying. So many of her fucking herself. One of her actually squirting onto the sheets, her buckling legs and agonized mewl enough to make me fucking hard.

  I was getting worried for her, because after all of that, I was really going to fucking hurt her.

  I went through it all when my phone pinged again – another video. I opened it and wished I hadn’t.

  She was in a club.

  She was drunk.

  She stuck her tongue out at the camera and a guy behind her laughed as she winked at me.

  “Not gonna be home tonight,” she told the camera with a grin. “Don’t wait up.”

  I smashed the phone against the window of the car until it was nothing but garbage.

  I ordered my driver to hit up the club I thought I recognized from that fucking video.

  I told myself to stay calm and not overreact, and with every excruciatingly slow minute that passed, I knew it would be impossible.

  It was time for Pet’s first real punishment.

  Thirteen

  Pet

  “Come here, princess.”

  “Fuck off.”

  I pushed the guy off me and wobbled away in my too-high heels. The alcohol was clouding my judgement, and I realized I might not have chosen the best night to have my first drink.

  And second.

  And third…

  I managed to get into the club with a bunch of guys I met outside, but they wouldn’t leave me alone anymore, and I just wanted to go home. But my pride wouldn’t let me. I’d sent King that video; I needed to stick it out.

  I knew he was going to punish me. But at that point, anything would’ve been better than the cold shoulder he’d been giving me for the past four days, no matter how hard I tried to get his attention.

  The weekend had passed slowly, with a lot of self-doubt and worrying. I hated being ignored. I hated the way he seemed to just forget I existed.

  My mind was constantly plagued with thoughts of him with someone else. What kind of business trip could he have taken over the weekend? Surely, he was lying to me.

  I stumbled to the bar and sat down on a stool, but the guy still wouldn’t leave me alone. He came after me, his hands on my back and so close to my ass it was making me feel really uncomfortable.

  “Would you please leave me alone?” I asked him, but he just laughed.

  “Little bitch,” he said. “You think you can use me to get your teenage ass in here and not even let me touch you?”

  My face blanched as he sat down next to me.

  “I fucking own this club, princess,” he said with a sly smile.

  “You don’t,” I objected.

  “I do.” His smile was so self-righteous. The face I thought was handsome only a few hours ago was now almost ugly. I wanted King. I wanted to go home. “And I’m going to show you how much fun it can be.”

  “I’d like to go home,” I said in a small voice. “Could you call me a cab please?”

  The guy leaned in closer and grinned against my ear.

  “And why the fuck would I do that, princess? We’ve only just started having some fucking fun, haven’t we?”

  He grabbed my wrist and forced me up. I mewled in pain but no one heard me over the loud music. He walked me across to a raised VIP area and made me sit down in a booth with him. We had a good view of everything below us and this just didn’t feel right at all.

  I sank into the red cushiony seat as the guy ordered drinks. I’d long since forgotten his name, and my body was starting to give in to the situation at hand. I felt so fucking dizzy from the drinks I’d downed at the bar.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse and the guy glared at me.

  “You’re gonna check your phone while you’re with me?”

  I tried to ignore him, but he snatched the phone from my hand and made me look up at him.

  “Please,” I begged him. “I need to let… someone know I’m okay.”

  “Someone?” he laughed in my face. “Got a boyfriend, princess?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “It’s… complicated.”

  “Not anymore,” he grinned at me. “When you’re with me, you don’t have one.”

  He smashed my phone on the floor and crushed it beneath his foot.

  I was up in a second, panicking.

  “You fucking jackass!” I screamed at him. All he did was laugh. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble!”

  “You want trouble?” he said. “You scream trouble from those gorgeous blowjob lips to your pretty fucking heels, princess.”

  I whimpered as he pressed me against the wall of the booth.

  “You messed with the wrong guy,” he said against my ear. “Now you gotta pay, little girl.”

  “Let me go!” I struggled against him, a surge of adrenaline pulsing through my body. I pushed him off and the guy stumbled back, giving me a vicious glare.

  I tried to make a run for it, but a bouncer blocked my path. I looked up at him with my eyes fearful, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. The guy’s long fingers wrapped around my forearm.

  “Not so fast,” he told me. “We’re not done until I say we’re fucking done.”

  I caught a glimpse of King in the crowd below us and my heart leapt. “You shouldn’t mess with me,” I told the guy. “I know some people who…”

  The guy glanced to where I’d looked, but it wasn’t King at all. I must have imagined it. Shit.

  “Sure,” he laughed, looking back to me. “I know everyone, princess. No one you know is a threat to me. Now get the fuck over here and sit on my lap before I drag you over by your hair.”

  And then there was a fist in his face.

  And blood splattered his expensive shirt.

  He stumbled to the floor and the bouncer who was helping him moments earlier just stared.

  “I am so sorry, sir,” he said in a shaky voice. A man of his stature looked ridiculous apologizing like that. “We had no idea she was with you…”

  “You’re fucking done,” a familiar voice barked at him. “And this joke. Get him out of my face before you leave or I’ll beat you both into a fucking pulp.”

  The bouncer picked up the club owner and half-carried him out of the booth. A hand gripped my forearm and I cried out from the pain… and the relief. He pulled me flush against his body, and my ass pressed against his crotch.

  “Big mistake, Pet,” he muttered. “Big fucking mistake.”

  We stood there, frozen, for what felt like hours. I couldn’t even hear the music or the sounds of the club. All that mattered was him, and that he’d found me, come back for me, saved me.

  “Take me home,” I begged as his fingers ran down my spine. It felt like I was naked in my tiny dress and the stupid heels.

  He didn’t say a word. Just kept standing behind me until my whole body was shivering, begging for release, just from feeling his breath on my neck.

  “Walk over to the bar,” he whispered into my ear, his hands circling my waist. My body wou
ld have responded even if I hadn’t wanted to.

  I forced myself to rip my hips out of his arms. I didn’t look back over my shoulder as I walked to the bar, but I felt him follow me slowly.

  His voice was soft in my ear.

  “Place your hands on the bar,” he said. “Palms down.”

  I hesitated and it made him growl in my ear.

  “Fucking right now.”

  My hands flew up and I placed them on the bar. It was cold and sticky from spilled drinks. It felt like everyone was staring at me, so I focused my eyes on the bar and pretended I wasn’t dying of embarrassment.

  King came up behind me. Really close, his crotch touching my ass.

  “Bend over,” he told me, and I obeyed with my mind reeling. “Order a drink for me.”

  I tried to get the bartender’s attention when I felt King’s hands on my ass. He tugged on the hem of my too-short dress and pulled it up unceremoniously. I gasped so loud I was sure everyone could hear it over the thumping music. He pulled my dress above my ass, his body hiding it from other people’s sight. His hands slid over my ass, long, sweet stroking motions that made me swallow my gasp.

  “What did you want, miss?”

  I could barely look at the bartender as King’s fingers slipped between my legs, outlining the wet lips of my pussy.

  “I…” I just stared at him.

  “Go on,” King whispered in my ear. “Order me a drink, Pet.”

  “An Old Fashioned,” I gasped.

  The guy nodded and King fucked my pussy with three fingers. I clenched around him and he pressed his groin closer, hiding what he was doing.

  “Don’t you dare fucking come,” he growled in my ear. “If you do, you’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

  “Please,” I whispered. “Just take me home. Please, I just want to go home, I want to be with you…”

  “Sure didn’t seem that way to me, slut,” he grinned against my skin, his fingers fucking me deeper and making me mewl out loud. Thank God for the music. Thank God for the noise.

  He finger-fucked me almost maliciously and I gripped the bar for dear life. The bartender returned what felt like hours later and gave me a look. I guess from where he was standing, King just looked like another customer at the already full bar. He probably had no idea what he was doing to me.

  “Here you go, sweetheart,” he said with a big smile. “Little young to be here, aren’t you?”

  “I…” I swallowed again, grabbing the drink. “It’s not for me.”

  King’s fingers curled up inside me and my legs nearly gave out.

  “Whose is it?” the guy asked and I nearly shouted at him to fuck off.

  King took the drink from the bar and grinned at the guy, taking a sip. His fingers went so deep my knees buckled, and he held me up by my waist.

  “Mine,” he said simply, and I rolled my eyes back as he pulled his fingers out and put my dress back in place.

  He finished his drink and I stood there shaking. Then, he gripped my forearm and led me out of the bar. His fingers held on tightly enough for me to know he was going to leave a mark.

  He led me to his car and made me sit. His hands left me and I sat there feeling utterly alone as the driver took us back to King’s apartment.

  When we arrived, I nearly toppled over on my way to the elevator. The drunkenness was starting to fade, but I felt terrified.

  We arrived in the apartment, and as soon as the front door closed, he slipped his jacket off and rubbed his wrists. He wouldn’t look at me, but my heart was pounding needily, because it had been four days and I wanted him so fucking badly, despite what he might do to me.

  “Strip,” he told me.

  I’d never done anything faster. Dress, lingerie, jewelry, until all I had left on were my heels.

  “Those too,” he growled.

  I hesitated.

  “Did I fucking stutter?”

  The heels followed. Usually he liked it when I kept them on.

  He didn’t look at me as he sat down on the couch. I stood frozen to the spot.

  “Lie down on the floor.”

  I did, with my heart pounding.

  “Spread your legs.”

  They were spasming hard from my nerves, but I did it, my eyes on his.

  “Wider.”

  Wider.

  “Fucking wider.”

  Even wider.

  “Hold your pussy open,” he told me, and I did. “One hand only. With your other hand, slap your clit.”

  I made a move to do it, but he stopped me by holding up a hand.

  “Not like you’re fucking playing. I want to hear the slap. I want it to fucking hurt.”

  “S-so you do it,” I whispered, and he stared at me.

  “You think I feel like touching you?” he asked me. “After all the shit you’ve done?”

  Tears sprang from my eyes and my palm shook above my pussy. Despite everything I was fucking soaked. I’d never wanted him more.

  “Seven slaps,” he told me. “As I count you down. You better make them hurt if you want to make it up to me.”

  I whimpered and waited for the first number. He was torturing me to the point I craved those slaps, craved any sort of contact with my needy clit.

  “Seven,” he said.

  My hand shook as I slammed it down. Too gently. It barely hurt.

  He kneeled down next to me, his fingers grasping my throat so softly I cried out, because I needed so much more.

  “Do you understand this is a punishment?” he whispered against my lips, and I couldn’t stop nodding. “Why aren’t you treating it like one, then?”

  I trembled.

  “Six.”

  His fingers didn’t move from my throat as I slapped myself harder. This time, it made me cry out.

  “Five.”

  The slap echoed around the room and my body twitched.

  “Four.”

  I bit my lip so hard I felt blood trickle down my jaw. That one really hurt.

  “Three.”

  I arched my back off the floor and howled like an animal.

  “Two. Pet?”

  My eyes found his through the haze.

  “You’re going to come with the last one, Pet. Yes?”

  I nodded. My clit was on fire.

  “Do it!” he said and my breath hitched as I slammed my palm down again, and my clit begged for more.

  But he waited.

  He waited for ages, until my whole body was shaking, trembling, eager for the last number, eager for him to just. Let. Me. Fucking. Come.

  “One,” he said. His voice was gentle, but his grip tightened around my throat.

  I watched him as I brought my palm down against my pussy, hitting myself so hard I screamed.

  He put his mouth on mine and tasted my tears and my blood and my screams, and I came crashing down with only one thing on my mind.

  Please don’t let this be the end for us.

  I’d never had an orgasm that long. It wouldn’t stop.

  He caged my body under his and pinned me down. He licked the traces of my tears from my cheeks and pinned my hands above my head when they sought him out.

  “You’re fucking killing me,” he groaned against my throat. “You’re making me… so fucking weak.”

  I mewled and his free hand found my ass, lifting me up until my pussy was pressed against the bulge in his pants.

  My clit was pulsing from those slaps, I needed him so badly I could beg for hours, if only for one taste.

  “I should let you go,” he muttered against my chest, and my nipples tightened at his breath.

  “Don’t,” I begged, feeling delirious. “Please, don’t, I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry…”

  His hips started grinding against me and I cried harder. We were so fucked up. This whole… relationship, or arrangement, or whatever the fuck it was, was going to destroy us.

  I was never going to leave, though.

  “You sh
ould go,” he said. His voice was rough.

  “I won’t. I’m never going to leave.”

  His fingers found the zipper of his pants and he pulled out his cock. I almost cried with relief.

  “You need to go,” he said again, and I grabbed onto his hair as he pushed inside me.

  “I’ll never leave,” I said. “I’m never fucking going.”

  He looked into my eyes, his cock throbbing inside me.

  “I wasn’t supposed to fuck you,” he groaned. “Or touch you. You’re being a fucking brat…”

  “I’ll do anything,” I said again. “I thought you were leaving, I thought you were done.”

  He groaned and started fucking me, and my eyes rolled back and my pussy took all of him in and clenched around his length.

  “I’ll never be fucking done,” he growled. “Don’t you fucking see that?”

  I fought the orgasm that was building inside me and clawed at his back.

  “You…” I swallowed. “You need to punish me…”

  He grabbed my jaw and fucked me until I cried.

  “I. Fucking. Can’t,” he groaned and my heart pounded. “I fucking can’t!”

  Fourteen

  King

  We didn’t talk about it again.

  And she got better, she did. I could tell she was consciously trying not to upset me. But it also meant she was walking around me on eggshells, twitching at every sign of trouble and biting her lip nervously at any sign of conflict. It was making me angry. She acted almost as if she was afraid of me, and I didn’t fucking like it.

  We’d fucked. Every day. The sex was insane. Intense, crazy. She’d end up in tears or passing out and I’d dig the hole I was in just a little deeper with every touch I shared with my Pet.

  It was the weekend, and I had special plans for Pet. Of course, she had no idea yet, so when I came home that Saturday and gave her a big cardboard box, she gave me a quizzical, but excited look.

  “What’s this?” she asked me, and I grinned.

  “Open it.”

  Her hands shook as she took off the lid and sifted through the tissue paper. She pulled out the garment, a pretty black dress I thought would go well with her complexion. Her eyes widened as she looked it over, draping it over her arm. The dress was modest for my taste, but still sexy enough. It was short, with long sheer sleeves and bejeweled cuffs. It would look beautiful on my Pet.