Текст книги "Indecent Cravings: Part Three"

Автор книги: S. K. Cross

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Chapter 14

I’m in what looks like an abandoned warehouse, but a very old one. Constructed from big gray bricks, 1800s or maybe even 1700s. Large floor to ceiling openings are covered by large wooden doors with slats. Many of the slats are knocked out or rotted away, allowing the light from the street in. A large section of the door to my right is missing. I can just make out people walking by on the busy main street. I see tourists passing by only inches from me on the other side.

The room fills with a feral presence, like the air pressure has changed.

It’s him. He’s here. I can’t help but glance to my left where I came in to see.

“Eyes forward and down,” he says. “In Service Position, you will always keep eyes forward and down while your mouth waits patiently for cock.”

The sharp command ignites my inner submissive slut. Oh my God, I love the filthiness of this. So abnormal. So deviant. So dirty.

I hear footsteps on the floor getting louder. A shimmering white catches the slatted light for a second in the corner of my eye. Must be that gorgeous flowing white shirt. Right now, I’d settle for a mouthful of the shirt alone.

I hear a beep in my ear. He turned the transmitter off.

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. Following instructions, I keep my head down and my eyes straight ahead.

“Good girl,” he says in that same evil tone that haunts my fantasies. “Very good girl.”

His hand reaches out to stroke my hair again. I shake, a sharp longing awakened at his touch. He twirls it in his fingers for a thousand years, then places his fingers under my chin to raise my face up.

“Look into my eyes.”

“If it pleases you, Director,” I say.

The recall of the phrase from our previous encounter, combined with the intense meeting of our eyes, triggers a look of shock on his face.

What is that?

Again, it’s like he’s figuring something out. Or is it recognition? He strokes my hair like he’s known me before. Did we meet in a previous life? Maybe we did. Maybe that’s why this bond is so strong between us. Maybe that’s why my life turned completely upside down the moment I first saw him in the airport back home with the Ray-Bans, absorbed in his iPad. I haven’t been the same person since.

What would Zander say if he could see me now? On my knees in an old abandoned warehouse in Nassau? Obeying the commands of a stranger?

We used to talk about sexual freedom and our dark desires. He was the only one I could really open up to about all that. I think he would be happy that I’m pursuing my sexual freedom, but probably concerned that I’m putting myself in danger.

But see, that’s the thing. I’m not putting myself in danger. I know danger, and while Lukas Thorn is unpredictable, commanding, and fiercely in control of the entire world around him, he exudes a vibe of protection much like Trevor . . . only darker and more feral. I feel the same sense of safety with him, but with an added special something that hovers in the recesses of my darkest yearnings.

“You are stunning,” he says. “I said that before to you at Lorena’s party, I know, but I can’t help and say it again. You’re so much like–”

He catches himself, snapping his Director face back on in a flash. He was about to say someone’s name.

Who, dammit? Whose name?

Suddenly, a piece of the enigmatic puzzle that is this dark beast was almost revealed to me, then ripped away again.

It’s a girl. There’s someone else out there. I remind him of someone else.

Oh, I know! No, it couldn’t be!

“You look a little like her,” said Karissa the night after Lukas Thorn saved my life.

“Look like who?” I said.

“Clarissa Stock, the girl who was with Lukas Thorn in the restaurant.”

I laughed. “The supermodel? Yeah, right.”

But then a few days later I saw Clarissa Stock on the cover of Cosmopolitan. And yes, there is a certain similarity in her eyes and nose. Maybe the lips too. But the rest of her . . . that bikini body . . . forget it. No way. Nothing like me.

Is that it, though? Is it her? A supermodel? I have no chance against a supermodel. Not a fucking chance in hell.

And yet . . .

I’m here and she’s not.

“You’ve been a very good girl,” says Lukas Thorn, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I think it’s time you get a reward for all your efforts.”

Thank you, God!

“If it pleases you, Director,” I say.

He laughs in that mildly amused tone again. Then he gazes down at me, launching a jubilant flurry through me, cascading in ripples all over my skin, like it’s matching the waves painted all over me.

“Do you want my cock?”

“If it pleases you, Director.”

“No, answer freely. Let your words flow. Permission granted.”

“I want your cock.”

“I’m not convinced. Sell me. Pitch me. Make me feel how much you want it.”

Easy. “I saw the outline of your cock through your tight black jeans on the airplane. I’ve pictured it in my mind ever since, wondering what it looks like.”

“Go on. You can’t have it until you prove to me how much you truly want it.”

Shit, I can’t believe I’m about to tell him what I’m about to tell him, but it’s like I feel unencumbered by any hesitation when I’m near him. He knocks all my boundary walls like they’re made of spongecake.

“The afternoon before Lorena’s party, I masturbated to thoughts of you . . . and your cock. I pictured it . . . I . . . uh . . . felt it in my mouth.”

“What was it doing in your mouth?”

“I was sucking it and it was fucking my mouth.”

“Were you deep-throating it?”

I nod. My underlook is real now. I’m so close. I’m going to have it! It’s close. It’s on its way. I can feel it. I’m going to have Lukas Thorn’s cock in my mouth! Haha! “It was slamming the back of my throat, just how I like it. I couldn’t breathe.”

“Good. Very good. Show me how you masturbate.”

I don’t hesitate for a second. I only hope I don’t blow right away. I reach down and touch my folds with my fingers.

Ahhhhhh!

“Lean back,” he says. I do. “Further on your elbows. Bend those knees. Raise your hips up so I can see.”

I do as I’m told, stroking some more, accidentally grazing my clit. Ooops, almost came there.

“Very good. You have a delightful pussy. Keep stroking yourself . . . but you may not come until I command you. I will say, ‘Come for me’ and then you shall come.”

Yeah, right. Sure, buddy. Haven’t you learned anything about me yet? Im-fucking-possible.

“I know you think that’s ridiculous right now, but trust me I have a special power.” His words seem to echo. Is that really happening or am I imagining it? And his eyes seem to almost glow again. At the same time, his sinful words have wrapped themselves around me in a velvety sheen and invaded me. I feel a switch turn somewhere.

“I now control your orgasms completely. You may not come until I tell you to. When I say the words ‘Come for me,’ you will come so hard that your entire body will convulse in pure joy and you will be unable to stop yourself from screaming.”

Oh, I’m almost right there right now, buddy!

“Stroke yourself hard.”

Oh come on, pal! No way am I not going to come!

“Acknowledge me!”

“If it pleases you, Director.”

Fully knowing that I’m about to come, I stroke my pussy and get my clit involved.

But wait, something’s different. I stroke harder, pinching my hood in between my fingers as I rub them up and down.

I’m on the edge, right on the edge, riding the edge, still unable to break eye contact with him. But . . . and I never thought I would say these words . . . I can’t come.

Holy fuck, what’s wrong with me?

He laughs heartily, the echoes vibrating past the rotting brick pylons into the deep recesses of the old stone building.

“Stroke yourself harder!” he says in a new more feral tone.

I stroke harder. Shit. Still riding the edge. I get a finger up inside me. That, combined with the pressure on my clit, is always a guarantee.

But nothing.

I grunt, sensing my eyes rolling up in my head as I shake all over in a steady state of bliss, unable to come.

“Stop,” he commands. I stop. I’m panting. I want to scream. “You see, I control you completely now. You are nothing without me. I made you come on the plane. I apologized at Lorena’s. But now I take it back . . . because now you have proven yourself worthy. You are now truly my property.”

I don’t know what this means, but I like the sound of it.

“You will come for me soon. Very soon at my command. But now it is time for your reward. Reassume Service Position.”

I move off my elbows and back up to kneeling position, hands behind my back, mouth open, eyes down.

“You may expose your reward.”

I can’t help but smile as I put my hands up under his flowing shirt and to the top of the black jeans. Then I laugh. Not a girlish giggle, either. More like a victory laugh.

Where are Kayla and Nikki now?

Where is supermodel Clarissa Stock now?

Not here!

Fuck yeah, bitches!

I fumble with his thick belt, my happiness on overdrive. Dammit, I can’t get the fucking belt undone.

Come on, fingers!

I consider biting the jeans and ripping them with my teeth. I swear I have enough pent up energy to become my own whirlwind of un-fucked horny girl.

But the belt comes free, the zipper comes down and . . .

Oh my sweet heaven!

Out flops a work of art. Words are not enough to fully communicate the beauty of the beast in front of me. Perfectly straight, thick and bulbous, with a glistening, shiny head that seems to wink at me. The helmet is the same girth as the long shaft that drifts down to a set of high balls. I cup them in my left hand as I allow the length of the rod graze past my cheek.

Oh!

Yep, like I told you way back, this is my thing. I think I want to become a sculptor and just make these. Big ones. Maybe put them all over my house. Nothing in life is as glorious as a beautiful man’s thick throbbing rod this close to my face.

“Do you like your prize?” he says.

“Uh-huh.” I’m barely able to get the words out. I stick out my tongue and lick it.

Oh, it tastes so good! Like musky man.

“Look up at me!” I look up. “You’ve been such a good girl, I grant you permission to indulge yourself. Now enjoy.”

“If it pleases you, Director.”

He pats my head. “It does indeed.”

Then I go to town. This is my reward all right. I explore all the veins with my tongue, feel the heft of his balls with my hands, bounce my lips and chin back at forth feeling it’s rock solid hardness flop all around me. It rolls through my hair on both sides of my head.

Then I get up to that big head and open wide.

There is nothing so glorious as the sense of a shaft like this entering my mouth. I take it all the way back into my throat and just hold it there.

Ah, heaven.

I press it deep into me, feeling that choke that I know how to control so well. My eyes tear up a little as the pressure mounts in my blocked off nasal passages as I just relish the moment in all its rough intensity.

Then I let it travel out again, now fully engorged and shiny with my dribbles all over it. I let it hover on my lips and kiss it, allowing my breathing to get back to normal.

Then I kiss it all over, from the front to the sides and all the way down to the sack while squeezing it with my right hand.

“Very good move,” he says. “You like cock, don’t you, dirty girl?”

“Uh-huh,” I say with a wet slobber.

Then it’s back in my mouth and I’m choking on it again. God, so wide! It fills me completely. I can barely get enough suction going. I could suck Chad’s easier because while decent, it was smaller. I can’t seem to get enough going on this monster.

At least it’s not as big as Karissa’s. That one could be seen from space.

Even though it fit in my dad’s mouth. How is that possible? Wait, TMI. Don’t want to know.

Shut up, Abigail! Shut the fuck up! No thinking allowed here! Let go and enjoy!

Which I do. I suck and suck and suck. I hear him groan.

Oh, I love that . . . when a man groans while I suck him. Such an affirmation of my power as a woman.

I taste some pungent pre-cum as I continue my suckage. I love pre-cum too. Kelly, one of my friends back at Wellesley, hates cum and believes that no girl can possibly like it.

Kelly is so fucking ridiculous! (Not to mention one of those hoity-toities I told you about way back in the beginning.)

I love its thickness, its saltiness, the gooey taste as I suck it through my teeth.

I look up at him as I bounce. His eyes are closed as he moans. What a sight! I love the fact that I can give him such pleasure.

He catches me looking up at him and matches my gaze. Then he reaches down and strokes my hair lovingly again.

Please be me. Please let me be the one you’re thinking of. Nobody else. Not her, whoever she is. Some supermodel or some other party girl.

“Okay, time for your reward. Do you want my come in your mouth?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I grunt as I bounce harder.

“Good girl.”

He re-positions himself so he’s better aligned with my mouth straight on. Then he starts thrusting.

God, yes!

My orgasm fires up again, but only to the edge. I’m not even touching myself. This is just so fucking hot that it sends me there just by having his cock in my mouth.

I feel like I’m drowning in him, the hot wet combination of my mouth and the way he’s intermittently cutting off the air supply at the back of my throat.

God, I’m going to have a sore throat tomorrow . . . but it’s so fucking goddamned worth it!

“Mmmmm,” he says as he increases his ramming speed.

God, this is good but I’m going to choke soon. Then a few rams and something goes the wrong way. I choke and pull away, going into a coughing fit.

I’m about to dive back on, when his fingers graze my cheek.

“Okay?” he says, just like he did before, stepping out of the scene to check on me.

I nod.

“Sure?”

“Yep.”

Then he pats my cheek firmly and I take him in again.

He’s a little reticent about speed and thrust this time, but I look up at his face with a squint to tell him Hit me, pal! Hit me hard!

And so he does.

He really unleashes on my mouth this time. I drift into a blissful sea of ecstatic servitude.

Then he explodes in my mouth with a grunt and an “Oh God!”

Oh God definitely.

It’s like a volcano, cum erupting everywhere. It flows down the back of my throat, out of my mouth, through my nose.

Yep, I’m a cum slut. And I love it.

A few more thrusts and he’s done and out, the monster flopping around with a little extra nectar dribbling down in a long rope.

I dive at it, sucking it into my mouth, allowing it to dance between my teeth.

“Gah!” I say, covered in a white sheen. I choke and cough a little again, the sweetest choke and cough I have ever known.

“You are amazing,” he says, again looking down at me with . . . that look. Like he recognizes me.

Then, he zips up. My reward is gone. I miss it already. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. It has the moniker “1716” inside a little circle woven into it. That looks familiar. Where have I seen that before?

I take it and wipe my face.

“Up,” he says. “You have now had your reward. It is time for mine.”

God, this man is perplexing. Most guys would consider a blowjob the ultimate reward. But this man reverses that on me.

That was indeed truly my reward, though. I can get off anytime I want. Can’t suck the cock of a man like this anytime I want, though.

What does he have in mind for his reward?

It doesn’t matter. I will do whatever he commands.

He takes the transmitter out of his pocket and turns it back on. I hear the click in my ear as the red light comes on.

“Test,” he whispers. “Did you hear that? Answer freely.”

“Yes. Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

“Now walk out the same way you came in. Take a left down the street and head toward the water.”

Again, I do as I’m told.

Chapter 15

The streets are alive with people celebrating. It seems to have kicked up a notch since I was out here last. The jungle drums beat in a steady rhythm.

“Go down to the dock,” he says in my ear.

There is a large crowd assembled by the dock. Three makeshift stages have been set up.

On the first is a magician in a shiny purple suit. He is making things appear and disappear, including his large-breasted blonde assistant who he seems to wrap in foil, then scrunches up the foil into a little ball. Then, she comes running up to the stage from near me.

On the center stage is a woman with braided auburn hair and a long flowing dress playing a harp. While I’m not a big harp music fan, she’s got quite a thing going with rhythm and tempo. It’s kind of amazing, actually.

On the third stage are two very muscular guys painted silver. One kneels on one leg with his arm resting on his thigh. The other takes his hand and then proceeds to do a handstand on the other guy’s hand.

Wow, that’s a lot of bulging muscles. They hold that pause way too long for mortals. Yikes.

The magician is wrapping up, bowing to the applauding audience.

“Jump up onto the first stage,” says Lukas in the earpiece.

He wants me to what?

But I don’t hesitate. I’m here to follow commands.

As soon as the magician and his assistant are onto the pavement with their cases, I’m up on the first stage.

Apparently, someone else had been waiting for it and shouts, “Hey, I was next!”

“Now dance for me,” says Lukas. “Just like you did in front of the house.”

I strike a pose to start, and the crowd gets very intense around me. The guy who was supposed to be next is still shouting, but orders are orders. I have to do what Lukas Thorn tells me.

I begin my seductive dance, not quite sure where he is. It doesn’t take long, though, to pick out the white flowing shirt next to a short bald man with a plump woman in a big yellow hat.

I lock eyes with him. Same mildly amused half-smile. Damn that man.

I kick my dance up to “full stripper,” even though I have nothing to strip. I wonder if anyone can tell. A quick glance to the faces around me, including the sudden migration of guys, confirms that yes they can.

This should be disturbing to me, but I’m excited to be naked in front of this crowd.

I see the guy who was going to use the stage walking away to my left. Buh-bye.

I stick my ass out in a move the choreographer showed me, then glance over at Lukas. He seems to like that. His smile is a little more pronounced.

I’ll get you to smile big, buddy!

Then I’m into a gyrating routine that causes the woman in the yellow hat to shout, “Oh my! Let’s go!” as she drags her poor husband away.

Lukas Thorn’s eyes are transfixed on me as I attempt a move that it took me three days to master. A short leap, a half-handstand, and onto my back with my legs tucked up to my chin in a tight little spin.

If I time it correctly, my pussy and asshole should be open and on display directed straight at him, even though they’ve been disguised well. Although, I think even the great Karl Werz isn’t going to be able to hide the fact that I’m naked when I’m in that tight fetal position on my back.

As I stop spinning, my face is aligned with my crotch to his face perfectly. From my viewpoint, his chin rests on my pussy.

As it should.

Then, I leap up to applause and take a bow.

“This is my reward,” says Lukas Thorn. “Watching you dance like this for me is greater than any pleasure I could ever know.”

Next thing I know, there’s a whistle being blown and the crowd is parting.

Uh-oh.

It’s those British police officers with their little sticks. They’re being led by the guy who was supposed to occupy the stage right now.

If I weren’t committing a lewd act in public, I would laugh.

However, I don’t really want to go to jail. Especially a non-American jail.

I glare at Lukas. He’s taking it all in, the smile gone.

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. What do I do?

Lukas looks directly at me and speaks into the transmitter. “Take a deep breath and hold it,” he says. “Fill your lungs with air and hold your breath.”

I do as I’m told just in time, finishing my inhale as I see a big white flowing blur heading toward me. Oh shit, it’s Lukas. He leaps up and crashes into me, propelling me into the air backwards, over the dock wall behind me and into the water.

Chapter 16

My senses explode from the impact of being on stage in front of a crowd one second, then submerged into seawater the next.

Just like that night on Miami Beach two weeks ago, I’m lifted from behind again, this time a hand across my face. I’m dragged upward into the air.

“I got you,” says Lukas. “Take another deep breath.”

I inhale, and then he plunges us down and backward into the water again.

I feel myself dragged, then raised above the water line again.

I breathe and open my eyes.

We’re alongside the dock wall, holding on to wooden pylons. I can hear people above us.

“Come back up here!” says a voice in a British accent. “This is the police!”

Lukas, his hair magnificently wet, smiles at me totally unfazed. He removes his white shirt and lets it drift away in the water.

Oh God, his muscles are amazing!

“Are you a good swimmer?” he says.

“Like a fish.”

“Good. That boat.” He motions to a cabin cruiser moored about a hundred yards away. “Let’s get under it without coming up for air. Ready?”

I nod.

We both hold our breath and go down.

I swim my heart out toward the boat, the flickering shadow of Lukas beside me in the dim underwater light.

In a few seconds, we’re at the boat. I’m about to stick my head above the surface, but he grabs my hand and pulls me under the boat to the other side.

Lukas peers around the bow at the dock. I squeeze up next to him wrapping my arm around his chest. I look back at the dock just over the outline of his shoulder.

While I’m here I lick it softly. Why not, right?

Three police officers are shining bright lights across the water. Good thing Lukas dragged me over to this side. If I had emerged on the other side of the boat, the light would be shining right on me.

Lukas turns and looks behind us. There is another similar cabin cruiser another hundred yards behind us.

“Next boat,” he says. “Same thing.”

“Okay.”

My smile must be huge because he smiles back.

Gotcha! Made you smile big, you dark, beautiful god!

I really don’t care if he tells me we’re going to swim to the next thousand boats. This is too much fun. Hell, I’ll swim all the way back to Miami. Fine by me, as long as this man is by my side.

A big inhale and down we go.

At the next boat, we both come up on the far side and check the situation. A police boat with a big searchlight has entered the small harbor from the ocean side.

Damn. The boat must have been close by, and the cops on the dock radioed him.

I feel like I’m in a movie. I’m glad the only offense was a little public lewdness, though. A deviant part of my brain laughs at the thought of my mother seeing it in the paper. Not that she would ever read anything from down here.

Lukas turns and glances over to his right. Maybe a hundred yards behind him is a huge yacht. I’m talking billionaire huge, with a big round Art Deco window with slatted jalousies just like one of the neighboring buildings on James Avenue near the Redmond Apts.

“One more,” he says. “Far side of that one. Ready?” I nod and inhale. “Go!”

This is the farthest swim yet.

My muscles are aching by the time we reach the far side of this monstrous beast.

Once we emerge on the far side, Lukas looks at me and makes the shhhh signal with his finger. I nod, feeling like a little kid playing hide and seek.

I follow him as he swims toward a ladder.

Yes, the yacht is big enough to require a ladder. I told you it was rich.

Lukas turns and looks at me, then nods toward the ladder. He climbs up it.

Shit, really? Are we really going to sneak onto some rich person’s yacht?

Whatever. I follow commands. It’s what I do.

As I climb, I notice my arms have returned to normal skin color.

Shit, the salt water has washed away the body paint completely.

Now, I’m just a naked girl who could lose a few pounds.

Fuck.

Hope that doesn’t disturb the magic.

Lukas doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy trying to be invisible as he hits the deck. The first thing I notice as I join him is that his feet are bare. He must have ditched his shoes in the water.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me down onto the deck of the boat.

Shit, it’s big. We’re on one of those outdoor corridors surrounding the living area. A warm glow emanates from inside the jalousies.

As we lay huddled on the deck, I make a silent prayer for this moment to last forever. Not only am I with a man most women couldn’t even begin to fantasize about . . . a man who has repeatedly told me I’m stunning . . . I’m in the middle of an adventure that has my adrenaline pumping all over the place.

Not only am I being pursued by the local Bahamian police, I’m also sneaking onto some billionaire’s yacht.

Fuck it.

If I go to jail, I go to jail. What girl gets to live this adventure? Really, what girl?

After a minute or two of assuring himself that we have sneaked aboard without being noticed, Lukas grabs my hand and motions for me to follow him. Ducked down, we travel the length of the large boat to an opening in the cabin area.

He presses me up against the wall as we stand up. He peers around the corner of a corridor.

I assume there is nobody there because he drags me down it. Now we’re way deep inside this yacht, in a hallway that looks just like any hallway in any house with bedroom doors on all sides.

Stealthily, like he’s done this a hundred times, Lukas Thorn looks around, his muscles flexing, as he tests the handle of one of the slatted wood-stained doors. It opens.

He only opens it an inch, and then peers inside.

Apparently satisfied, he pushes the door open and drags me inside. Once we’re in, he sticks his head out and looks around. Then, he ducks back in and silently closes the door, locking it behind us.

We’re in a stateroom that’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen on a boat. The bed in the middle is vast.

He rips the covers off the bed and tosses them onto the floor.

“On the bed,” he says in an even tone. “On your back.”

“If it pleases you, Director.”