Chapter 2
2
W illow wished the hotel pool was empty, and he was the only person drinking by the water. It would have reminded him of home, both Rockhampton, where he’d grown up by the beach, and St Kilda, where he, Eden, Jupiter and Mercury lived by the bay.
But much like New York, LA didn’t seem big on sleep. The sauna, hot tub, and Olympic pool were full; the surrounding deck chairs were full. He’d forgotten headphones, so he stuck to scrolling social media until he landed where he usually did—his folder of Eden photos. Eden on stage. Eden sitting in the sand. Eden holding baby Jupiter, her eyes glassy with whatever they put in epidurals. Eden in bed, her hair all rumpled.
She was just… incredible.
When he was twenty-three, hell, when he was thirty-three , he’d never have believed he could be so obsessed with one woman. A woman he’d already married and had two daughters with.
But that was stupid. The fight wasn’t over because you got a ring on a girl. She wasn’t tied to you forever just because you had kids. Eden was as beautiful now as she’d been the night he’d met her. More. She was sharper, kinder, smarter, more impressive. She’d always been out of his league, but now…
He went to the last photo he’d taken of her—standing in front of the massive angel wings at the observatory. She was smiling, but it didn’t touch her eyes; she was clearly somewhere else, probably thinking about the stupid fight they’d had that morning.
Sighing, he finished the last of his beer and went to the pool bar to reload. If he couldn’t be alone by the water, at least there was someone around to pull taps. He got another lager and returned to his deck chair, consciously not making ‘dad noises’ as he sat down. He seemed to be surrounded by actors, models, and fitness models. Nothing like LA to make him feel like an old man before his time.
Eden was younger than him, and beautiful. She fit in here. He wondered if she’d been offered the job yet. He knew she’d get it. She came to life whenever she talked about the project. And it made sense. To Quinley and Sony and all their corporate assholes, Eden was what she’d been when he’d met her—a sexy underground talent. Not a mum. Not someone who almost died last year.
Against his will, he went back there, to the memory that had taken up permanent residence in his brain.
He’d been at the park. Jupiter was on the monkey bars, Mercury in the baby swing, kicking happily as he pushed her. His phone had buzzed in his pocket, and he’d ignored it—probably a scam. They called again, then again, then again.
“Go away, scammer,” he said to Mercury, who giggled and asked to be pushed higher.
“No, baby, this is high enough.”
On the fourth call, he’d rolled his eyes, drew Mercury to a standstill and answered his phone. It was a doctor. Eden’s tour bus had skidded on a sharp turn in Bundaberg and spun off a cliff.
“No,” he remembered saying. “No, she’s fine.”
But she couldn’t have been fine because they were bringing her to an emergency room, her lung had collapsed, and it looked bad.
“No,” he’d said even louder. “She’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Williams, but you need to come here as quickly as possible. Not to Bundaberg. We’re transferring her to St Andrews in Brisbane?—”
“Wh-Why?”
“They’re better equipped to perform the surgery your wife requires.”
He remembered his phone feeling like a live grenade. How it took everything he had not to pitch it into the nearest tree, as though that might stop what was happening. He remembered the cold sweat bursting all over his body as what the doctor said penetrated his thick skull. His mum died in a car crash when he was two; the same crash that put his dad in a wheelchair. Was that his destiny? To lose his wife to a car? But then, why wasn’t he there? Why wasn’t he involved?
“How?” he asked the faceless doctor. “How did this happen?”
The voice on the end of the line repeated the thing about the bus skidding, possibly to avoid an animal or a drunk driver, but that wasn’t what Willow had meant. He meant, why were there still cars? They killed people. Everyone knew that. Why were they still allowed? How were they allowed to happen?
Mercury started crying, from his voice or his energy he didn’t know, and then his memories went greasy. He’d called someone, Patrick or Derek, because he didn’t trust himself to drive. Patrick—or Derek—had taken the girls home, and he’d caught an Uber to the airport with nothing but his wallet and the clothes on his back. Cheryl Normal, Eden’s best friend since high school, had bought him a plane ticket and sent it to him. She was coming, too, on a flight that left an hour after his.
No , he remembered thinking. Because that means it’s bad, and it can’t be bad—Eden’s fine. We’re gonna come back to Melbourne tonight, and then I’ll ban cars. No one’s ever gonna drive again.
The flight was hell, jolting turbulence the entire two hours.
If she’s dead, kill me , he’d told the summer storm rattling the plane like a loose tooth. If she’s not, fuck off. You don’t matter.
He landed to the news that Eden was in surgery. He caught a cab to the hospital, barely able to breathe. When he arrived, she was out of the operating room, but he still couldn’t see her.
“Standard,” a doctor had told him, but the kind looks on the faces of the hospital staff told him more. Eden was far from okay.
He walked the halls until he got asked to fuck off and sit down, so he’d headed for the gardens, his phone volume on the highest setting in case anyone called. His daughters’ faces became blurry in his brain. Would it be better for them if he were gone, rather than having to live with the man he’d become if Eden died? Because he couldn’t do what his dad did. He couldn’t keep going without her.
As he paced the grounds, he’d craved whiskey. Pills. He’d have taken heroin if sticking a needle in his arm wouldn’t have left him too fucked up to find out if Eden was okay. He’d never wanted to judge parents who used, but in that moment, he understood—truly understood—how pain could rise up and over the right thing, until all you could do was try to make it stop. It took his fucking breath away.
Then he’d heard someone calling his name. Cheryl was striding toward him like an angel in the semi-darkness, a dart in one hand, a huge bottle of cold brew in the other. They stood, chain-smoking at the hospital entrance. Willow had never smoked in his life, but he kept asking for darts, and Cheryl kept giving them. She never said, ‘Eden’ll be fine,’ but between her presence, the nicotine and coffee, he came back into himself. He stopped thinking about suicide and substance abuse. He called Patrick to check in on the girls, who were staying with him and his son, Alexander. Willow had told him not to say anything to his daughters about what had happened until he knew more. But there was nothing to know except the surgery was over, and he still couldn’t see Eden; that he would have to continue to wait.
The late afternoon bled into night. He and Cheryl got more cigarettes. Watched the drunk and inept come into the ER to manage their broken fingers and rashes. Willow was grinding out his hundredth dart, his lungs gritty and aching, when a good-looking doctor pulled up in front of him. “Mr Williams?”
“Yeah,” Willow had said, half-convinced the guy was a Sharks fan who recognised him. A nurse had already asked for an autograph, and Cheryl had threatened to kick her in the face.
But the doctor didn’t seem like a footy guy. And he was wearing an expression that was very familiar to the husband of Eden Jade, one eyebrow raised as if to say, ‘You? You big, ugly ginger? You’re married to that crazy-hot blonde?’
And Willow could have kissed the cunt on the mouth, because he knew in that moment—because of that expression—that Eden was going to live. And he was right. He was taken to her bedside, where she lay, pale but stable and alive, and he wept like a fucking baby.
“Willow,” she’d mumbled. “I’m okay.”
And she was. Only it was an ‘okay’ that meant another two weeks in a Queensland hospital. An okay that left her on crutches, his daughters crying because they didn’t understand why Mama couldn’t play. And in the months it took for Eden to get back on her feet, he noticed he’d started grabbing the girls’ hands too hard whenever they crossed the street, that he was following Eden around the house like a needy dog, and getting close to a panic attack whenever they were in the same car.
And he couldn’t be a dick in bed anymore.
The doctor had given them the all-clear to start fucking three weeks after the accident, and they’d started slow. But once Eden was off crutches and pain medication, she’d grabbed his hand and put it to her throat the way she had so many times before… and he’d flipped out. Pulled back and totally lost his hard-on. Eden had understood, but a week later they’d been making out and she’d come right out and asked, “Can you be an asshole to me, Sloan Williams?”
He'd said, “Hell yeah, baby.” But that was a lie.
The second he’d tried, he saw her lying barely conscious in a hospital bed, and he couldn’t keep it up. It was like an off switch in his head. If it were a technical issue, he’d have gritted his teeth and gone to the doc for some dick pills, but he had no problem raising a mainsail when he saw Eden in the shower. It was only when he put himself in a headspace of using her, hurting her; doing any kind of spicy shit, that he stalled like an old car.
But how the hell was he supposed to tell her that? She felt guilty enough about the accident, the stress to their family, and the work she’d had to delay or outright cancel. He’d hoped his thing would work itself out, because sometimes that shit happened. But not this time. Still, what was he meant to do? Willow didn’t consider himself a closed book about many things, but the thought of telling Derek or Psycho he couldn’t satisfy his own wife was beyond fucking embarrassing.
And now, at the worst possible time, Eden had finally gotten mad and demanded more, and what had he done? Cracked the shits. Made her feel bad right before her big meeting.
If she got the gig with Quinley, she’d be in LA for at least three months, and it was up in the air whether he and the girls would come along or if she’d go alone. He’d told Eden he was happy to stay home while she did her thing, and he’d meant it. But now he was wondering if their relationship could take that hit.
She wasn’t getting what she needed from him. Had no promise of getting it when she came back. What if she met some ket-sniffing musician who promised to call her names while he pounded her? What if this was the beginning of the end?
I won’t let it happen , Willow vowed. I’ll hire a team of acting coaches first.
Checking his phone, he saw it was half-two. His beer was almost finished, so he stood, a little drunker than he thought. As he headed for the bar, a sexy brunette caught his eye. She smiled in that way that said she had no problem with gingers, and Willow dropped his gaze. Not a chance. Not unless he could transfer his totally uninvested feelings from her to his wife and then?—
“Holy fucking…”
The idea was so simple he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. He returned to his deck chair to process. And hide his cock which was already straining uncomfortably inside his shorts. It was as though his kinks had been fighting as hard to get back to him as he’d been pushing them away. One loophole and they were back, his head teeming with ideas.
The first time he and Eden had fucked, they’d done roleplay. A Victorian doctor thing that had driven them both nuts and cemented his certainty that he was going to marry her. But he’d used his real name. Called himself Doctor Williams. He always used his own name. Sometimes Eden called herself something different when they fucked around—a camgirl called Jenna, Alicia the horny nurse—but he was always him. So, if he wasn’t him…?
He imagined his wife on a reclining chair, her hands between her legs, moaning as she made herself come on his orders. The thought of calling her ‘Miss Cartwright’ as he used to wouldn’t work, but Eden didn’t have to be Eden. She could be…. Jade, who’d never had any issues with motor vehicles that barely existed in Victorian times. Virginal, confused Jade, who’d wandered into his practise in desperate need of a dick between her legs. He could fuck Jade rough. He could do anything he liked to her…
Fumbling for his phone, he texted Eden, too horny and excited to wait.
Baby, when you get home, if you want, we can go hard. But you’re gonna call me Doctor McKinley. I’m not your husband. Not even in the roleplay. I’m not me. I’m James McKinley and I like fucking my patients. Especially the blondes. You’re not you, either. You’re Jade and you’re having some trouble with your pretty little blonde pussy and came to me to make it better. Let me know if that’s okay. I hope your meeting went well. You’re fucking amazing. I love you.
He sent the message, shifting slightly to grab his towel and pull it around his waist. Just typing those words had gotten him to full mast.
A reply pinged his phone.
Talk about great minds…
His phone pinged again. It was a picture of Eden in a change room. She was wearing a sheer white dress thingy, her nipples clearly visible through the material.
“Christ,” Willow muttered. He didn’t know much about old timey clothes, but it looked like Eden was wearing a slutty version of period drama sleepwear.
A third text came.
I want all of it. Everything. I’m Jade. You’re Dr. McKinley. But can you give me time to get the room ready first? I have more surprises for you. I’ll text you when to come up.
Yes. Willow replied. Anything. Whatever you want.
Yesssssss! Also, here’s what I was going to send you before you read my mind:
“ I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor, but my mother doesn’t think my undergarments are appropriate for our next appointment. Can you please tell her you bought them for me and gave me permission to wear them?”
“Fuck me.”
“Sorry?” It was the sexy brunette from before. She’d somehow gotten a seat beside his.
“My wife just sent me the sonogram of our baby,” Willow improvised. “It’s our first and I’m so excited I can’t even tell you.”
To her credit, the brunette barely offered a smile and a ‘congratulations’ before evaporating into the sauna. Grinning, Willow stood, wrapped his towel around his hips like a toga and went to the bar for a scotch.
Eden’s text came thirty minutes later. Long enough for more scotch and no small amount of stress that she’d changed her mind. But the message made it clear she was as eager as he was.
Sorry to bother you, Doctor McKinley. I know you must be running late, and I’ll start my exercises without you like a good girl, but I would really like your help. Please hurry—Jade
Willow paid his bar tab, his mind firmly in fantasyland. He liked the idea that Eden as Jade was his little girlfriend, a repeat customer he was pretending to treat because he couldn’t keep his cock out of her. He slid into the mindset of James McKinley, a grifting asshole who was out for everything he could get. Jade had been a virgin, and he shouldn’t have taken that from her, but he couldn’t help himself. The same way he couldn’t stop coming inside her sweet little pussy, even though he knew he had to be close to knocking her up. But that was her problem; he could always tell her father she had a secret boyfriend and get her thrown in a nunnery or?—
“Sir, are you okay?”
Willow stopped dead. He’d been power-walking through the lobby in full, rampaging sex mode. He almost adjusted his expression to something less tense but caught himself; McKinley wouldn’t do that. “I’m fine. Is there something you wanted?”
“Oh no, sir,” the concierge said, seeming chastised.
“Doctor,” Willow corrected. “Doctor McKinley.”
The man didn’t bat an eye. “My apologies, Doctor. Have a good night.”
“You too,” Willow said.
He was probably going to hell, but fuck it. He was going to destroy Jade’s pussy first.
Willow reached their hotel room and realised there wasn’t time for him to shower or get in costume. He was still in a green t-shirt and board shorts, probably smelling like chlorine as well as scotch.
Fuck it , he thought.
He’d have to brazen it out. Yet when he unlocked the door, he found the large living space empty, his suit pants, an Oxford shirt, and socks laid over the cream couch, and his dress shoes beside them.
“Eden,” he whispered. “You fucking angel.”
But he couldn’t think about his wife that way. Classical music and soft moans were coming from behind the closed bedroom door. He had a character to embody and a patient to violate.
Freshly grateful to Sony for the huge hotel room, he showered in the second bathroom, brushed his teeth and dressed as fast as he could. He wondered how his patient was feeling. She had to know he was back, and the tension was probably ramping her up and bringing her even tighter into his control.
Exhaling, Willow assumed his sternest expression and rapped on the bedroom door, where he could hear the unmistakable sounds of a woman being pleasured along with one he couldn’t quite place. A repetitive drilling kind of hum. “Miss Jade?”
“Yeeeeheesss?” The girl sounded like she was about to come. “Doctor McKinley?”
“Yes. I’m going to enter now.”
“Oh-oh-okay….”
Jade was on all fours in the middle of the room, her skirt pulled up to expose her right thigh and the side of her ass. And pulsing in and out of her cunt was a thick, dripping wet dildo. She was kneeling in front of a fucking machine, and from the smell of fresh pussy and the sweat plastering her blonde hair to her head, she’d already been there a good long while.
For a second, Willow almost lost it. Almost totally dropped character, fell to his knees and begged for fuck knew what? But by some magic of internal strength, he managed to hold his ground and watch impassively like the prick McKinley was.
“Doc-Doctor,” Jade sobbed, pink-cheeked and clearly mortified to be caught so close to coming. “I’m sorry. Don’t look at me; I can’t help…”
She closed her eyes, her tits shaking through the sheer cloth as she worked back against the fake cock. Willow felt sweat break out on his own forehead. He ignored it. “How long have you been on the machine?”
“I don’t…” Jade gasped. “I think I’m going to…”
“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice four octaves lower. “For the first time?”
“N-N-N?—”
Her hips convulsed, and her face contorted. He watched as Jade pressed her mouth to the carpet as though trying to suffocate the sounds of her orgasm hitting. As she writhed, the soft, squishing sounds intensified, though the machine worked the same pendulum pulse.
Dear lord above…
“Good girl,” Willow heard himself say. He’d been fully hard since the shower, but his tailored suit pants grew unbearably tight as he watched the girl attempt to steady herself and almost collapse, the machine hammering insistently inside her.
“You fucking slut,” Willow whispered.
The phrase rolled off his lips like a prayer, and it wasn’t until Jade—Eden’s—eyes widened that he realised he hadn’t been able to say anything like that for months. Yet now, he could. Even knowing this was his wife and he was himself, he was pretty sure he could keep going. He dropped to his heels, looked Eden in the eyes and said it again.
“You little, filthy slut. You like it, don’t you? Coming here? Fucking my machine?”
Eden’s face contorted in pleasure-pain. “I… You said I needed to.”
“I did. But that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Do you like it, Miss Jade?”
She nodded, a tiny, involuntary twitch.
Willow brushed a lock of damp hair from her green eyes. “How many times have you climaxed riding my machine tonight?”
She shook her head frantically, and he knew she meant that she couldn’t remember, not that she didn’t want to tell him. He laughed and moved his hands to her chest, cupping her shaking tits through the material. “You know there are women who don’t orgasm when they ride my machine, Jade?”
“I… Don’t they?”
“No. That shows how damaged you are, how you want it more and more and more. I’m starting to think you’re a nymphomaniac.”
“No!”
“Yes.” He loosened his grip on her breasts, holding his palms flat to her nipples and letting them brush against his hands as she rode the dildo behind her. Jade whimpered, the pulsing metronome of the machine seeming to grow louder in the quiet of the room.
“Do you remember why your father sent you to me?” Willow asked. He’d come up with the back story while he was still by the pool, waiting for Eden to text, and like a good little actress, Jade nodded; ‘Yes, And: The Roleplay Edition.’
“I’m going to remind you anyway,” Willow said quietly. “You should be constantly aware of why you’re here. It was because you were embarrassing your entire family. Flirting with men at society events. Displaying your body to whoever was willing to look.”
Jade shook her head, moaning pitifully.
“That is what you were doing. You were a disgrace. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was a night last summer when your gentleman father came home to find you straddling a banister, riding the wood as though it were a man. Riding it…” Willow closed his fingers and thumbs over Jade’s nipples. “… like you’re humping my machine, right now. Only the banister wasn’t inside you. It couldn’t reach all those deep places, could it?”
Jade hung her head in shame, though her hips never stopped rocking back to meet the dildo.
“Look at me,” Willow demanded. “Stop desperately trying to stimulate yourself like the whore you are, and show me some respect.”
She continued to refuse, so he squeezed her nipples tight, making her yelp. She forced herself to meet his gaze, a tortured expression on her pretty face as the machine pumped into her, making her ass ripple with every thrust.
He watched her for a long moment, fingers still clamped on her nipples, and her lips puckered in a way he knew as well as he knew his face in the mirror. “You’re close again, aren’t you?”
“Yuh-Yuh- Yes .”
Willow forced himself to laugh, releasing her tits and getting to his feet. He wandered to the minibar and pulled out a stupidly expensive bottle of Glenfiddich.
Sorry, Sony…
As he poured the thumb-sized bottle into a glass, he heard Eden’s panting grow harder. Getting ignored was a kink of hers in scenes like these. The idea that he could take or leave the gorgeous thing he was tormenting. Hiding his smile, he turned to face her. “I’m helping you. Helping your father. Isn’t that right, Miss Jade?”
She nodded, wordlessly staring at the bulge in his pants.
“And it’s still not enough,” he said, tapping his wedding ring against the side of the tumbler. “You want something bigger. You need something real inside you, don’t you?”
More vigorous nodding. “Puh-Puh-Please, Doctor?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Willow said, taking a drink. “I’m beginning to doubt it would do you much good.”
“It willlllll,” she wailed. “I always feel better af-af-after.”
“I’ll consider it.” He walked toward her and saw what he’d been hoping to see—aside from a close up of his wife getting fucked—a dial switch. The machine was set to the medium speed, and he reached down and flicked it higher. It whirred, pushing the dildo with slick, powerful strokes. Eden screamed; tossed her head and screamed like she’d caught fire.
“Like that?” he asked. “Feel good?”
But Eden could only scream; scream and writhe and hold herself upright on trembling arms. She came quickly, finishing all over the fake cock. Willow had never envied a dick so much in his life, but not for long. He flicked the machine down to the lowest setting, and Eden gasped, shifting away from the dildo.
“Thank you, Doctor McKinley,” she muttered.
“You’ll thank me better than that.”
Downing the last of his scotch, Willow set aside the tumbler and began rolling up his sleeves. Eden watched, her face glazed with need.
“Now, before I give you what your whorish little body wants, I want you to repeat my rules back to me,” he said. “What have I told you about my treatments?”
“Um…” Eden swallowed thickly, the dildo dragging slowly in and out of her saturated pussy seeming to be distracting her as much now as when it was at full tilt. “Um, I think…”
“ Now , Miss Jade.”
She screwed up her face in concentration. “I-I can’t tell anyone,” she said, shimmying backward so the dildo was working deeper again. “I can’t tell anyone what we do because they won’t understand.”
“That’s right. What else?”
“I’m… I’m a bad girl because I wouldn’t like this if I were good?”
“Exactly. What else have I taught you?”
“I… um… Oh God! ”
“I think I see the problem, Miss Jade.” Willow flicked off the machine, and Eden yelped as though he’d slapped her. “No! No! Please, more?”
“Whore,” he said, as coldly as he could manage with all his blood in his cock. “Start again. Tell me my rules. All of them.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s a secret. I’m a bad, dangerous girl, and you own my body. If I don’t do exactly what you say, you’ll tell my father I’m insane and have me committed.”
Willow drew down his fly and pulled out his aching cock. “Exactly. Now get yourself off my machine, and come suck your real favourite toy, Miss Jade.”
She obeyed, shifting away from the dildo and crawling toward him, her dress billowing around her naked body. The scent of fresh pussy grew so strong, his mouth filled with spit, and he was pleased to see that while not small, his dick was bigger than the fuck machine dildo.
You wait , he thought as Eden’s pale hands closed tight around his shaft. I’ll make it feel like you’ve never been fucked before.
Eden sucked greedily, licking and taking him into her throat, but he still gripped the back of her head and worked her deeper. She choked a little, spit running down the sides of her mouth.
“You want to get fucked, you do what I say,” Willow snarled. “That’s a rule too, isn’t it?”
She moaned her agreement.
“Good. Go lower. Lick me.”
She lowered her mouth and drew on his balls, and Willow groaned, gripping her hand and making her stroke his shaft at the same time. It didn’t seem legal to see a face so beautiful looking up at him while he had a warm mouth on his sack. If he didn’t stop her soon, he would come on her face.
“That’s enough,” he said, drawing Jade backward by her hair. “Lift your dress; show me the cause of all your father’s problems.”
She lifted the hem of her nightdress and pulled it to her hips. Her cunt was flushed, pink as her cheeks and glistening. Willow studied her pussy as he unbuttoned his shirt, removed his shoes and pants. Eden licked her lips as she watched him, and he took himself in his fist and pumped.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, keeping his voice low and calm as he worked himself. “Between your legs, Miss Jade? Are you aching?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“And what would you do? To have me inside you one more time?”
“Anything you wish of me.” She swallowed heavily again. “Doctor McKinley, I’ve been here so many times. When will I be cured?”
Willow let go of his dick and glared at her. “When I fucking well tell you you are, slut.”
She flushed with what looked like genuine shame, and Willow wondered if he’d pushed the boat out too far. He was about to apologise, but Eden beat him to the punch.
“I’m sorry, Doctor McKinley. I don’t want it to stop.”
“Of course you don’t,” he snarled, privately relieved. “Now shut your little mouth. No one wants to hear a pretty girl talk.”
He lay on his back in the middle of the bed, holding his cock upright. It was throbbing, the vein down the front fit to burst. He loosened his hold. For once, he wasn’t worried he’d lose his hard-on; he was scared he’d finish too fast.
“Sit on me,” he barked. “Slowly. Don’t try to take me all at once, Miss Jade, though I’m sure you’d like to.”
Eden knelt on the mattress and moved to straddle him. Willow shoved her away with his free hand, not hard, but enough to tumble her sideways.
“No. Turn around. Ride me.”
As she sat up, Eden’s green eyes were glittering with something like triumph, and he realised that was as rough as he’d managed to be with her since the accident. A grin spread across his face, and he hoped it tied in with the roleplay, because all he could think was, ‘We’re fucking back, baby.’
She turned her back to him and sat, reverse cowgirl onto his body. The soft material of her dress brushed his thighs as she raised it to settle on his dick.
“Slowly,” he warned her. “Just the head.”
She sank down, and when her cunt kissed the tip of his dick Willow clenched his teeth to keep from grunting. She was saturated, slick to the touch and already gripping hard.
“More,” Eden begged. “Please?”
He yanked up her dress and slapped her ass. Hard. “Don’t tell me what to do. Bounce for me. Give me a show, Miss Jade.”
Eden obeyed, bobbing on the head of his cock so that wetness ran down his shaft.
“You don’t like it this way, do you?” Willow snarled. “You’d rather Doctor McKinley was fucking you on all fours like an animal, wouldn’t you?”
“ Yes .”
He spanked her left cheek. “Too fucking bad. You’re a slut and you’re my property and you’re going to ride my dick while I punish your backside, because that’s what you need. Now sit down and take me all the way inside you. Make yourself worthy of my time.”
Gasping her thanks, Eden did as she was told. The feel of hot cunt stretching over him made Willow’s head spin. He grasped her hips, holding her in place. “No moving until I say so.”
Eden knew better than to protest, but she shifted a little and Willow slapped her ass. “Say ‘I’m an ignorant whore.’”
She repeated it back, still squirming and contracting around him. He waited for the song playing to end and for another one to begin, his cock swollen to the point of pain.
I’m in charge , he chanted over and over in his mind. I’m in charge.
Finally, Eden couldn’t take it anymore and started begging. “Please let me move? Please? ”
It was the moment Willow had been waiting for. He balled her blonde hair in his fist and pulled it, jerking his hips up so he was seated as deeply inside her as he could possibly go.
“Are you this stupid, Miss Jade? Are you really going to defy me?”
Eden gasped, her pussy clenching like a vice around him. “No. No, I’m sorry. Please? ”
“One more time…” Willow gripped her hair, “… and I’ll tie you to that machine and let it fuck you until the sun comes up.”
“Oh God…”
“Though, you’d like that too much,” Willow muttered. “What about this? I’ll have the machine sent to your bedroom in secret. Would you like that?”
Eden froze, possibly confused by what he was suggesting and whether her character would or wouldn’t want the fake cock. But he was ready to enlighten her.
“You might think you’d like having your private relief, but my machine’s loud, isn’t it, Miss Jade?”
Eden caught on. “You can’t give it to me, Doctor McKinley. My servants will notice.”
Willow raised his hips, fucking Eden’s tight pussy, one inch in, one inch out. “Not if you don’t use it. If you don’t use it, you can hide it in a cupboard or under your bed. But you won’t be able to help yourself, will you?”
She shook her head. “Please?—”
“You’ll be thinking about it all day and night, and the longer you resist, the weaker you’ll become.”
“No, I’ll?—”
“You’ll wait until you think everyone’s asleep or far enough away from your bedroom, then you’ll fuck yourself right inside your father’s house. And you’ll probably get away with it, Miss Jade. If only because no one knows the sound or what to blame it on…”
He was fucking her faster now, one hand in her hair, one on her ass. He thought of horse riding, of reins and whips. He needed a paddle to spank her with while he was pumping into her pussy. He’d buy one tomorrow if he could.
“… you’ll keep using my machine,” he told Eden. “You’ll do it morning and night, rushing to turn it off whenever you hear someone getting close. But it won’t be enough. You’ll grow even more addicted to the feeling. You’ll fuck that thing all day, getting sloppier and sloppier until all the servants know exactly what Miss Jade is doing in her room.”
“Doctor Mc-Mc-Mc Kinley …” Eden was pulsing around him like a strobe light. He wished he could see her face, her slack mouth and glowing eyes. Next time, he decided, they’d do this in front of a mirror.
“Yes,” he slapped her ass. “And you already know what will happen next. One day, you’ll be pleasuring your slutty little cunt with my machine, and your father will come looking for you, won’t he? And what do you think he’ll see?”
“No!”
“It’ll be much worse than the banister,” Willow snarled. “His pretty little debutante daughter coming all over a fake cock, whimpering just like you are now. He’ll send you to an asylum. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t throttle you .”
Eden gave a high, helpless moan and then her breathing seemed to stop, her pussy clenching so hard, stars popped in front of Willow’s eyes.
“You fucking whore,” he said, yanking her hair and driving up fast. “I’m going to show you the other places I can put that machine. You’ll be surprised at how we can fit together, Miss Jade. You, me, and that toy.”
Eden’s screams were so loud, they probably heard them at that Hollywood lookout, where the big sign wasn’t even lit. She dissolved onto him, a heaving mess of flesh and wet cloth and satisfaction. Willow knew she was done. That she probably couldn’t move for love or money. He flipped her over, putting her flat on the mattress and slamming home.
“I’m going to finish in you,” he breathed in her ear. “I’m going to come in your worthless pussy and watch it drip out of you as you walk from my office and back to your clueless father. Try not to get pregnant, won’t you?”
Eden moaned an incomprehensible mix of fear and encouragement, and Willow allowed himself a single second of pride for what he’d done. For the man he’d been able to be for his wife tonight. Then he bit the side of Eden’s neck and came like a fucking freight train.