A. Arthur - Passion's Prey

Cursing, he wished like hell he was at his place where his things were. As it stood he’d have to make do. Climbing off the bed he found his jeans, pulled the belt from the hoops. He went to the headboard and grabbed Caprise’s wrists, tying them tightly to the heavy wood. To her credit she didn’t even wince.

X leaned down to her then, licked over her lips, then thrust deep into her mouth, kissing her until she was breathless. “Stop,” he told her. “All you have to say is stop and this is over.”

She nodded, licking her trembling lips. “I won’t.”

“Listen to me,” he said louder. “It’s all you have to say.”

“I understand” was her next reply even though her eyes still said she planned to be defiant. X almost smiled at that. It was like a little ray of light spearing through the darkness.

His mouth covered one delectable breast, sucking the nipple in deeply as his hand grasped the other. He didn’t lay on top of her, so only his mouth and his hands touched her. She hissed loudly, her legs parting, lifting up off the bed then slamming back down as his ministrations grew stronger, harder. Her skin was such a perfectly creamy hue, he hated to bruise her, but knew that was probably going to be impossible.

She tasted like heaven, a place he’d never dreamed of, never even dared to mention. Yet here it was right in front of him. Switching to the other breast, he sucked his fill until he was intoxicated with the taste of her. When he pulled away it was because all his nerves were on end, every part of his body begging for something more. He straddled her at the shoulders then, lifting his length to guide it to her lips. She was so eager her lips were already parted, ready to accept him. Before she did X held his dick upward and she smiled. Her tongue lapped along the line of his piercings over and over until he was now saying her name through gritted teeth.

When she raised her head higher and scraped her teeth over the metal balls X roared, loud and long, with the pleasurable sensations ripping through his body. Pressing a finger on his shaft he aimed the tip at her moistened lips, watched as she took him in slowly. When he pumped his hips he wondered if she’d gag or try to turn her head. He should have known better.

Caprise sighed over his length, sucking him to the rhythm his hips moved. Moisture dripped from her lips onto his shaft until they were both glistening.

“Enough!” he finally yelled, pulling out of her mouth and reaching for her legs.

He pushed them back so far she could probably kiss her kneecaps. When he thrust his throbbing length inside her waiting pussy they both yelled. The room seemed to capture the sound so that it bounced back at them like an echo.

X didn’t care. Nothing and he meant absolutely nothing mattered at this moment but this pleasure. This woman. This shifter that had pushed her way into his space. His dick sank deeper and deeper with each stroke, her body sucking him in graciously. He wasn’t gentle and he knew he wasn’t small, but she rotated her hips, giving as well as she was receiving.

Spasms of light speared the darkness in his mind. His cat stood on hind legs, growling and hissing its pleasure. More and more was what he wanted from her. Everything and then some. Her legs trembled and shook in his hands. His name streaming from her lips over and over as her release took a strong hold.

His followed with a tightening at the base of his spine, the stiffening of his thighs and buttocks as he emptied himself completely inside of her.

When he was completely depleted, and only then, X closed his eyes once more.

The darkness was gone.

He opened them.

Caprise was still here.

“Two more girls are dead,” Darel said with no more emotion than it took to announce there was a leak in one of the bathroom toilets. Even though one of the girls had been Raven, who had provided him with tremendous entertainment last week, he couldn’t muster a lot of sympathy for the pathetic strippers who would rather get free drugs than cold cash.

Sabar stood at the glass window that overlooked the main room of Athena’s. He wore a gray suit and black collarless dress shirt. His dreads had been pulled back from his face to fall like limp snakes down his back. His stance said he was pissed off without him even speaking.

“Sales are up,” he said with a low growl afterward.

“They died here in the club. Yandy found them when she went to get them to go out on stage,” he finished.

Sabar kept staring down at the floor. “Production’s still on schedule,” he said. “The warehouse is full of product that’s ready to go.”

“Did you hear what I said?” Darel asked, raising his voice slightly. He didn’t want an altercation right here, right now, with Sabar, but damn if he was going to keep his mouth shut this time. Especially not with all the leverage he now had against his so-called leader.

“I don’t give a damn about some fucking strippers. So they snorted too much and died. Fuck them! You need to get your mind off that petty stuff and start planning the expansion. I want to have locales like this in every state by the end of the year. You can start interviewing for the managers but I get the last say. I want to know who’s working with the money at all times.”

Sabar hadn’t even turned to look at Darel as he talked. He was only the second-in-command, no need to give him any goddamn respect. Exactly the type of treatment Darel had grown sick of.

“Cops are all over the place now,” he continued. “They’re coming back with a search warrant because one of those dick-ass detectives found some blood out back. I’m telling you, this enhanced drug is bringing on too much attention. I think we should scale back and just peddle the normal shit for a while.”

Sabar did turn around then, in enough time to get right in Darel’s face.

“I don’t pay you to think. I tell you what to do and you do it!” he yelled, then took a step back, rubbing a hand over his face.

If Darel weren’t so pissed off and tired of bullshit he would have noticed that Sabar’s eyes looked a little red-rimmed and his shoulders slumped a bit.

“Everybody wants to be the boss. Bianca’s right about one thing: I’ve got to get a handle on you guys. Keep everyone in line all the time.”

Her name caught Darel’s attention and he opened his mouth to say something. What? Was he really going to tell Sabar that he’d fucked Bianca? No. Not yet. He’d tried to warn him but he hadn’t listened. Bianca wasn’t worth the time it took to say her name. She was a pretty good fuck, but nothing to write home about. Another fact that confused him about Sabar’s obsession with the conniving bitch.

Darel had a plan for her, though it wasn’t time to implement it yet. She was meeting him later tonight; he was sure for another round of what she considered her mind-blowing sex. Or maybe he should say mind altering after watching the unraveling of Sabar, the shifter he’d dedicated his life to working beside, following without qualm. All that had changed. It had to. Nobody controlled Darel now. They all thought they did, but that’s only because he allowed them to think it.

“We’re getting a big shipment on Friday. I need you and those two clowns out front there to go with me. I don’t want too many so that these suits get scared right off the bat. But I want to be covered and covered good by someone I trust.”

If Darel had feelings he might feel guilty for planning what he was and hearing Sabar say he trusted him.

“Where and what time?”

“I’ll text you later. Ears in here may not all be on our side. Like you said, there are cops every goddamn where.”