Yes (4 page)

Suddenly,
he lifted her entire body as if it were completely weightless and placed her on
her back. With complete confidence, he pulled down the top of her dress and
sucked her breasts, one of his large hands grasping the back of her neck, the
other rolling her panties down her thighs. While he enjoyed her body, she ran
her fingernails over his back, the smell of his unfamiliar cologne making its
way through her nose and into her mind, like some kind of invisible narcotic,
her eyes rolling back, body growing warm.

To
her delight, he began working his lips downward, gently kissing her stomach
before settling between her legs. Without pretense, she cradled the back of his
head and pulled him forward, her pussy aching for his mouth. As his lips met
her flesh, she arched her back and spread open, his tongue warm and wet and
skilled, her fingers gathering up bunches of his hair and yanking him along.

Within
moments, she climaxed, a gush of warmth flushing through her veins, an agony of
pleasure throbbing in her loins. Once she'd recovered from the throes, she sat
up and he rose to meet her, the head of his swollen cock threatening to push
over the waistband of his slacks.

Possessed
by desire, she unzipped him and set it free, the phallus large and engorged and
aching for her touch. She took it in her hands and he groaned, his palms
falling on her shoulders, the fingers squeezing into her soft skin. With care,
she cradled his balls and took him into her mouth, the size of it bringing her
renewed urges and driving her on.

As
his groans grew louder, she quickened her pace, until he finally withdrew and
nearly collapsed backward.

"No,"
he whispered. "Not yet."

She
looked up into his dark eyes, an animal looking out from the other side, his
jaw clenching, breath heavy. Slowly, she laid back while he moved atop her,
their eyes locked the entire time, a carnal link between them taking on weight,
the intensity blotting out everything else in the room. Everything in the
world.

He
kissed her hard and she opened her mouth, their tongues warm and wet against
one another, his dick working its way inside her body as she shivered with
satisfaction. As his shaft slid in and out, she worked her clitoris against
him, the two acts in perfect harmony, as if they weren't strangers at all, but
familiar lovers reconnecting after a long separation.

As
he skillfully worked his hips, she squeezed his buttocks, the muscles flexing
impressively with each thrust. Without hesitation, she took his ear in her wet
mouth, his deep grunting transformed into moans of pain as she bit down. While
she teased his flesh, he sucked at her breasts, one hand sliding up her thin
neck and taking up a collection of her hair, which he pulled to make her chin
lift, her back arch. She answered by raking her fingernails across his lower
back, continuing upward over his broad muscular shoulders and then through his
hair, which she gathered up and pulled until more moans slipped from between
his lips.

Finally,
he quickened his pace, his upper body rising to offer her a full view of his
well-built stomach and chest. She lifted enough to take one of his nipples
between her teeth, chewing at it hard enough to make him curse. While his words
expressed discomfort, his cock told a different story, its mass swelling even
greater inside her, his pumping deep and thorough and bringing her closer to the
end.

Within
moments, she felt it come over her: a crippling orgasm that nearly erased her
mind for several seconds, the throes so agonizing, her mouth whaled. As the
little cries escaped her lips, his body tightened and she felt his shaft clench
within, everything he had escaping into her; low, animal groans filling the
room. When it was over, they laid together without speaking, their breathing
heavy, bodies glistening and exhausted and gathering up energy for a long night
ahead.

Chapter 5

Over
the next several weeks, they went on that way, meeting frequently for dinners,
parties and such; each night always ending the same way: with their bodies
entangled, mouths devouring one another, the swell of passion always building
until they both finally fell rigid and then buckled under the agony of release.
When she was with him, butterflies swam in her gut; when they were apart, she
ached for his company and his touch.

Then,
the texts and phone calls began to diminish until they went away altogether. As
the days turned to weeks, she went mad with wild little jealous thoughts of him
with other girls, him pushing inside them, their mouths exploring his muscled
body.

Finally,
she heard news, thanks to Courtney who seemed to know those who knew everyone.
According to her, Dominic had become the target of a federal investigation and
had fled overseas to escape arrest.

"Who
said this?" Hannah asked, her jaw clenched, eyes throwing daggers.

"A
friend of mine heard it from someone who knows."

Hannah
rubbed her chin.

"Is
he ever coming back?"

Courtney
put her hands atop her sister's shoulders.

"For
God's sake, Hannah, did you hear what I said? He's a fucking criminal. He's
dangerous."

Hannah
looked to the floor and nodded slowly.

"I
know. You're right."

Courtney
pulled Hannah into her arms and held her.

"It's
just an infatuation. In time, it will pass to nothing."

But
weeks later, he still took up her thoughts: when she ate; at work, while she
served drinks deep into the night; when she tossed about in bed chasing sleep;
in her dreams, their naked bodies grinding against one another, huge climaxes
awakening her in the dead of night.

Then,
it all seemed to dwindle some, or at least, enough to become tolerable: for her
mind to find other ways to occupy itself. She met another man: older, quiet,
polite and respectful. Something new.

Several
more weeks passed, and then, out of the blue, she got a text from Dominic. At
first, she couldn't believe it, didn't know how to respond. For a good hour,
she just sat there staring at her phone, paralyzed by a conflicting medley of
emotions. Finally, however, she was drawn to respond with questions of his
location, of his well-being.

He
said he was fine and back to stay; that his lawyers had cleared the mess and
all was as it used to be. Most importantly, he said he wanted to see her that
night, asked her to visit his apartment, said he'd thought only of her all
those lonely months.

Without
thinking, she agreed, and that night, she readied herself as never before; her
hair, her skin, her young face: everything obsessed over to ridiculous degrees
until she looked and smelled like sheer perfection.

But
despite all this, she kept her mind firm toward her plan, toward what she knew
she must do: let him go and pursue this new interest: this kind, considerate
person who'd treated her so well. This she would do for her own well-being, and
as she took a seat inside the taxi cab, she prayed her body and mind would
allow her to follow through.

When
she arrived at Dominic's apartment building, the doorman greeted her with a
smile.

"It's
been a while," he said, and she repaid his politeness by offering a smile
her own.

The
bearded elevator attendant offered no such pleasantries; instead he merely
manipulated the buttons and stood silently as they ascended, his demeanor like
someone who'd just received bad news. When they reached the top floor, a single
security person greeted her with a forced smile and then escorted her to Dominic's
suite.

As
she entered, her eyes took their time acclimating to the low lighting. Inside,
Dominic sat alone, his body hunched over, a cigarette in his hand.

"Dominic?"
She said, as she approached cautiously."

When
he looked up, she immediately noticed a three-inch purple scar running over his
forehead.

"What
happened?"

He
shrugged.

"It
is of no consequence."

He
took a big drink of scotch that appeared to have little effect on his obvious
irritation.

"Are
you alright?" She asked, as she took a few measured steps forward.

He
took a pull from his cigarette and squinted his eyes.

"Come
here and let me see you," he said.

She
crossed the room and he stood.

"Magnificent,"
he said, as he took her little body in his arms and pulled her in with a force
that seemed awkward and impolite.

She
winced at the smell of cigarettes on his breath and he squinted his eyes a
little as she pulled away.

"What
is it?" He asked. "What's the matter?"

"We
should talk," she said, and he released her and sat back down on the
couch.

"What
now," he said, as he picked up his cellphone and began scrolling though
messages.

Hannah
frowned and sat down next to him, a three-foot space buffering the two.

"I'm
so happy to see you, Dominic, and to know you are ok," she said with a
stutter. "But things have changed for me since you've been gone. I've met
someone else and I don't think we should see each other any longer."

Dominic
kept his eyes on his phone as if he hadn't heard a thing. Then, he finally set
it down, crushed his cigarette dead in the ashtray and rose to his feet. She
watched him cross to the other side of the room and take a seat in a chair.
Without showing any emotion, he casually withdrew another cigarette from his
pack and put it to his lips.

"Let
me tell you a story," he said, as he flicked his lighter to life, his eyes
lowered to the floor, eyebrows squinted as if he were deep thought. "Once,
there was this girl, a dancer here in the city."

He
brought the flame to his cigarette and held it to the end, a bright orange
kernel flaring and then fading. He took the cigarette from his mouth and spoke,
while flittering streams of white smoke escaped from his mouth.

"She
was a beautiful girl: long blond hair, endless legs, a mouth that seemed to be
always wet, always pink and wet."

He
raised his cigarette and took a deep, long pull, his eyes studying her face,
its beauty marred by fear, despite her best efforts. He smiled as he inhaled,
thin wisps of smoke escaping upward along the sides of his sucking cheeks.
Finally, he took the cigarette from his lips and turned away.

"When
she first came here, she was a clueless cunt, nothing more," he continued.
"I took her in because these types arouse my attention." he turned
his hand over toward her as if to make and example, his eyes drifting upward,
as if he struggled to remember.

"She
was like my pet for a while," he looked toward her, his eyes dark in the
low, amber light, shadows hovering over them, making him seem inhuman, demonic.

"These
types," he said, gesturing toward her again with a flip of the hand.
"They are willing for anything, even if they think otherwise. Their lives
before: gray to them, oppressive. When they come to me, they are like rutting
animals, asses up in the air, their scent so obvious. I have them however I
want them, and they go willingly, begging for me to degrade and humiliate them,
loving it."

He
smiled to himself, as he flicked ashes into a ceramic tray. Hannah squirmed in
her seat, her eyes on the door, on anything in the room that might pass for a
bludgeoning weapon.

"This
girl I speak of, she was very kind hearted, but as I said, she had no clue. It
took me no time to adopt her for my purposes, and soon she recognized her
fate."

He
shook his head and ashed in the ceramic tray once more, his back turned toward
her, eyes scanning the room, appreciating his great wealth.

 
"Ultimately, I bored of her," he went on. "However, I decided to
maintain ownership of her, so I instructed her as such and put her in a small
apartment downtown, under guard of course."

He
put his cigarette out in the tray and turned to face Hannah.

"A
time or two, she made attempts to free herself; however, these were met with
brutal discipline that left her scarred and useless to any man save a
pimp."

He
lifted his eyebrows and offered an empathetic frown.

"Sadly,
these events drove the girl to cut through her wrists with a large shard from a
broken bathroom mirror."

His
eyes drifted to the floor for a moment while he thought. Then they trickled
upward and bored forth, the pupils seeming to swell according to his will.

"You
see, she knew it was her only way out, and so she took it."

He
shook his head slowly.

"There
was simply no other way."

A
harsh knocking slammed against the front door, and Hannah jumped in her seat.
Dominic smiled and stood, dusting his slacks and then making his way across the
room. He called through the door, and one of his men gave an earnest response.
With that, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, closing Hannah
inside.