Leon's Way (2 page)

I am the devil. What did she ever do to deserve this? She’s my employee and an innocent bystander who’s nothing like my usual contenders.

Still, I prowl up over Arriane on the mattress, the way I’ve done with countless women before. Straddling her, I’m on all fours, dipping down just enough to blow lightly on her mouth, making her gasp.

I have no excuse for acting like this. I can’t claim to be drunk on this aftermath of a New Year’s Eve. No, I just can’t deal with what happened earlier tonight. I want to forget how I lost my shit, the way I rebuffed Pandora’s lack of commitment to me.

Arriane’s hair is midnight-black like mine. It’s long and so silky it shines even in the dim lighting of my bedroom. First, I slide the simple black hairband out of her ponytail. Next, I fan her mane out over my pillow.

“You should wear your hair down more,” I tell her, and the small hump on her throat lifts in an anxious swallow. I draw back for an instant, studying her.

“You like it?” she murmurs. She seems surprised.

I slide a glossy lock between two fingers and watch it spill back to the pillow. “Of course I do. It’s fucking beautiful.”

Three years ago, I was running low on employees, and in walked this girl, this sweet twenty-year-old who needed money. Like most people in the college town of Deepsilver, Arriane came here for her degree. Only she doesn’t come from an affluent family, and tuition is expensive. Since then, she’s worked more at Smother than she has studied. Whenever I need someone, I turn, and Arriane is there, ready to pick up the slack. Beautiful, loyal Arriane.

“Your eyes are violet,” I state, because I hadn’t noticed before; she works for me, and I don’t get involved with my employees.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “No one else in my family—” she starts, but then I lick her lips and she gives off a quiet moan. I like that sound.

“What mix are you?” Since I’m the result of the American melting pot myself—I’m Honkey with a dash of Japanese—I ask without filter. I expect her to react to my insolence.

I cover the pulse at the hollow of her collarbone with the pad of a finger while I wait. The true violet of her irises diminishes at my touch, surrendering to lake-deep pupils.

“Indian. White. Some Hispanic,” she stutters. By now, I crave action, so I let go of her neck. Ball the sides of her shirt into fistfuls and shove upward. The swell of her breasts offer resistance, but I free them in a few jerky yanks. Arriane gasps in surprise. She doesn’t stop me, though, which makes me hard as a rock. My dick throbs with need.

Predictably, I’m losing interest in right or wrong. It’s Arriane’s doing that she’s with me instead of safe in her own bed.

“Run off, little girl,” I still tell her as I unclasp her bra and squeeze gorgeous breasts together. She shakes her head on the pillow, her silky hair disheveling around her. I bury my face between her mounds, and they’re as soft and warm as they look.

I clamp down, biting, sucking hard enough on her wide, brown areolas to have her whimper in a mixture of pain and lust.

“Leon,” she pleads—for me to do what?

“Don’t lie, Arriane,” I admonish in case that’s where she’s going, “and tell me you didn’t know.” I take her mouth roughly. Delve in. Feast on her lips, leaving her panting. Nothing is prettier on a woman than a cocktail of desire with a pinch of fear. I hope it’s what this is.

“Know what?” she gasps out.

“That I play rough.” I don’t give her time to answer before I show her what I mean. Flipping her over on the bed, I pull her slacks off fast. Efficiently.

Her skin…

“You’re fucking golden all over, aren’t you?” I hiss out. So smooth. Damn, she’s beautiful. Who the hell knew? “Sit up.” I offer her my hand. She accepts it and positions herself sideways for some reason, legs bent.

The sheer red underwear she wears is hidden between her thighs in this position. “Are you hiding from me?” I growl low in my throat. I’m pleased more than anything, because her reaction, this concerned apprehension, is fucking killing me. “Undo your legs, Arriane.”

She’s fumbling, indecisive, so I straighten her legs out on the mattress like she’s a doll. Give a light push for her to sink back on her elbows. Fuck yes—this is so much better.

“Hmm, good job, baby,” I say, rewarding her while my eyes trail her gorgeous body. As I grab my favorite silk rope from the nightstand, I zoom in on her sex. It’s still veiled by her sheer panties. “Arriane.”

Her breathing is so fast. She’s killing me.

“Yeah?” she manages.

“You wax, don’t you?”

Her cheeks flush pink at my intimate question, which is insanely, insanely hot. I smirk and lean in over her, settling a hand in over her pelvic bone and sliding two fingers over her middle.

I press. “Are you concealing a bald pussy, there, for me, darling?”

“Oh my God,” she whines, mortified and turned on as hell. I can’t help laughing. “You’re crazy, Leon!”

I don’t answer, and I don’t ask permission for what I do next. I make quick work of the binds. Loosely scissored, I fasten one slender arm higher than the other to the bars of the headboard. She’s on her back but with her torso slightly bent to the left. The position is perfect for flaunting particularly delectable tits.

This I haven’t done in a while. Pandora was a sissy, and Arriane’s making me forget this entire shitty night. Yes. This is what I need.

She doesn’t react until I’m done with the last knot, and I don’t take the time to check her response.

“This isn’t right,” she murmurs, her refusal too weak to heed.

I’m aware how people talk, how my exes gossip. No one asks me outright, and some of the stories are beyond laughable. But they make both men and women cautious around me. When people don’t know, they treat you with caution. And I’m fine with that.

“Have you or have you not heard what I do to my girls?” From the flush down her throat, she understands what I mean.

“Yeah, I…”

“So why are you in my bed?” My questions whip at her.

Unconsciously, she pulls on her ties, uncomfortable under my scrutiny. Her muscles flex, the slow dance of her body driving me insane. I stand up over her. Get rid of my own clothes while I drink in rounded curves, taut skin. Hell yes.

“I couldn’t just leave you the way you were,” she breathes.

Arriane can do nothing when I kneel and straddle her. When I let my palms constrict around her throat. I’m an expert at this. I press in against the exact spot on her windpipe, blocking her intake of oxygen. This power I have… damn. It never gets old.

Black pupils dilate beneath me as I let the seconds tick by. I soar on Arriane’s fear. It’s a fucking rush when her mouth opens baring white teeth and a pink, glistening tongue. The helplessness I read turns my cock into a weapon of steel.

Only she isn’t kicking with panic the way I expect. Most chicks do when I don’t warn them beforehand. I ease up the second before her lids flutter shut. Let my thumbs slide playfully along her long, beautiful neck. Her shivering inhale pleases me.

“How did you learn about the way I fuck, baby?” I whisper, and she lets out a shaky puff. She doesn’t question my actions. I slide a hand down her stomach, over a perfectly oval belly button and into her panties. Arriane’s breath hitches. She tugs on her binds as if she wants to stop me.

“I’ve… heard them. You.”

Silky. I wonder if she’s wet for me. Goddamn, I hope.

“The girls and me?”

“Yeah…”

“Where?” I lean in, coasting my nose up along the side of hers when I ask. Her hips unconsciously tilt into my touch. She wants more, and I want to touch her more. Further down. Back.

There.

Fuck yes, she’s soaked. “Where?” I insist as I dip in, enjoying the warm, slippery sensation of her. “Don’t lose your train of thought, babe.”

“In the office downstairs.” The words tumble out fast, as if she needs to get them out while she can.

I pump into her, and she cries out.

“Yeah? What was I doing?” I ask, insisting.

“I… don’t…”

“Little liar.” I smile and lean in, stroking her tongue into submission with mine. Then, I withdraw my fingers and stop touching her altogether. “You remember.”

“Please, Leon.” Her frustration is a whisper, and I can hardly contain myself. I lower over her. Tighten my arms to feel every inch of her quiver with uncertainty and unfulfilled need.

“I’ll get you off if you tell me what you saw in the office.”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Fess up—you
saw
, Arriane. Tell me.”

I kiss her hard before she can deny anything else. “You peeked.”

“You were with the one you dated before Pandora—Iris. On your desk.”

“Mm-hmm. And?” I reward Arriane by removing her panties. I drive two fingers back inside her, causing her to moan.

“That’s… all.”

No, no. She’s trying to cut my game short.

“How about we do this,” I suggest. “I’ll guess, and you’ll reply with a yes or a no. Easy, right?” I sit up and grab her ankles so I can stretch her out on my bed. I spread her legs for a better look. Man, she’s absolutely stunning. Arriane’s conservative clothes hid…
this
?

“Why?” Shiny lashes flutter up to reveal the full extent of her violet gaze.

“Because—” I take a break to press her pelvis down against the fingers I’ve reinserted. I cut myself off to listen out her moan. Watch her move into my hand. “—it’ll be hot, babe. You’ll like it—spill.”

Yeah. I’m depraved. This girl is out of her comfort zone, but she’s not trying to get away.

“Did you glimpse a little well-deserved spanking, maybe?”

Arriane’s eyes close again. She nods.

My heart hammers fast in my chest. This is good. So good. I think back at what else I could have done to Iris. We had some good times in my office. “So, skirt rolled up, no underwear, butt in the air over the desk?”

“Leon… I—”

My touch rouses her. Arriane should be coming soon, but her brow crinkles. Why is she not letting go? I add pain by pinching one of her nipples. She arches into my hand without yelping.

“I’m betting you didn’t leave until I’d entered her, right? Did I start hard and fast?”

“Leon!” she gasps, shocked.

“What?” I lower myself again. My other hand, the one that’s not occupied with her pussy, traces her body slowly. I wait for her answer. She moves so delicately under my touch that I’m about to burst.

“I don’t want to talk about anyone else.”

“No Iris?” I whisper into her ear.

“No.” Arriane is never stern with anyone, and yet in the midst of her sensory haze, she is with me. It’s the cutest thing; I’ve got her tied up, she’s wet and ready, nipples pointy with desire, and I’m seconds from making her lose control over her body. And here she’s trying to be bossy with me.

“Only you?” I smile against her ear as I make her climb.

“Yes,” she sighs, and there’s actual relief in her voice.

Fuck. I want to drive her crazy. I can’t wait to penetrate her. Will she be the warm, tight sheath I expect her to be? My balls constrict with anticipation.

“So, let me get this straight.” Sure, I’m the devil, but she’s an angel. A golden, raven-haired angel. She has it coming. “You’d rather not chat about me fucking someone else?”

“Shut up, Leon. I mean it.” Her eyes open, and she tugs on the ropes in earnest. The girl displays a quiet, simmering anger, and boy is she perfect.

I straddle her to lean up and free her arms. Then, I roll her with me to the far end of the bed so I can pull my condom drawer open. She’s alive with me, unafraid, her calves scissoring my thighs and drawing me closer.

Her breath catches so sweetly at my ear, and I squeeze her tight, relishing the way her entire body forms to me. This chick is no Pandora—shit no. She wants me balls deep. I shut my eyes, concentrating. I feel like a fucking teenager, about to bust a nut on sheer skin contact.

“Stop squirming, Arriane. Ah.” I’m not even sure what I’m saying. “Are you ready for the real deal?” I’m panting. I’m literally panting, dying to press inside of her.

“Please,” she whimpers, and that’s it. I’m seconds from losing control.

I keep busy kissing her while I rummage through the drawer. Where are the rubbers? Yesterday, I had two new boxes. It takes me a few seconds to realize they’re gone.

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” I growl.

“What?”

“Pandora fucking stole my condoms!”

Arriane is breathless, her chest heaving with want for me. “No, Leon… Why—why would she do that?”

“Because she fucking decided we weren’t going to have sex! Bitch!” I roar.

I’m so damn frustrated. I sit up, covering my face with my hands, making a loser attempt at calming down. It’s not working.

Sweet Arriane crawls over, her little ass in the air as she dives into the drawer, checking every corner. I grab a butt cheek and squeeze too hard. She doesn’t yelp. Instead she shrinks away from me and sits up.

“Sweetie,” she says. No one calls me sweetie. I am not sweet. Haven’t been sweet since I was seven.

Arriane’s small hand reaches around my dick and massages it. My eyes flutter closed, and I groan with anger, with the ever-growing need to fill her. I thrust into her hand. Then, I stand up and she instantly understands. My fingers weave into her hair as ruby lips curve around me. She bobs out a porcelain-frail, maddening pace that shoots me into arrhythmia. It’s heaven.