Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Zephyr
I tried not to think about Darby or anyone else watching me slink out of the executive suite and down the walkway, headed toward the back of the club.
Fortunately, Beck followed, though I had to check to see. He looked perplexed, or maybe embarrassed, as he trailed several feet behind, nearly losing me as I ducked through the door marked Employees Only.
I had a room, yes. Not the one populated with dungeon furniture and monitored by Maslow’s surveillance. Mine was tucked away, up a narrow staircase in the farthest, dimmest corner of the building—easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
My knees wobbled with every step, but I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to. Beck’s footsteps thudded behind me, steady and close, echoing the rhythm of my heart.
The second floor of the Devil’s Dollhouse was comprised of living quarters.
Maslow kept a suite at the far end while we dancers occupied rooms along the side of the long corridor.
A shared bathroom waited at the opposite end, outfitted with a bay of sinks and shower stalls where we got ready each morning.
I stopped in front of my door, where a metal nameplate gleamed against the wood. Beck caught up beside me, glancing around, cautious. I wondered if I should say something to reassure him.
I wouldn’t hurt him; I wasn’t even sure I could. And this wasn’t me luring him like a siren to his demise. I wouldn’t do that either.
But when he reached the threshold, whatever words I meant to offer caught in my throat. So instead, I pushed the door open and stepped aside, quietly inviting him in.
It was probably the opposite of reassuring when I darted in behind him and then closed us both inside my cramped bedroom. His features went slack as he turned a slow circle in the room’s limited open space.
Beck’s gaze drifted across the room, taking in the bare-bones space with quiet curiosity.
There wasn’t much to see. I hadn’t gathered many possessions in my month and a half on Earth.
My clothes were folded away in the drawers of a tall, scuffed highboy pressed against the wall beside a small table.
A few lonely shelves hung above it. Across the narrow strip of floor that passed for a walkway, my bed sat shoved into the far corner.
I winced when I saw it: unmade, the sheets tangled in a mess, the blanket half-slung to the floor, and the pillow balled into a knot. Not exactly a scene that invited touch, especially not from someone like Beck, with his tailored suit and gold-ringed fingers.
But he didn’t seem to notice the mess or, if he did, he didn’t care. His focus settled elsewhere.
On the window. Or more precisely, the world beyond it, framed by iron bars.
From here, I had a narrow view of the Strip.
Neon signs lit up the skyline in garish bursts, painting the night with electric color.
The glow found its way inside, casting prisms across the ceiling.
I’d spent nights tracing them with my eyes, imagining other worlds, better ones, where the shows in my head could be real.
Where I could be something more than decoration.
But even those lights were divided, sectioned off by the bars, fractured like everything else. They didn’t invite me in. They reminded me that this was it. My second chance began and ended with a room, a window, and a view I could never reach.
When I looked at Beck again, he was fixed in place. Frowning. Thinking.
The desire that had been potent in the executive suite had grown vapor thin while I stood inches away, wringing my hands together when they probably should have been on him. Caressing. Coaxing.
I needed to give him something else to look at.
I started to strip out of my clothes, shirt first. I probably should have made a show of it, taken my time at least, but with everything so stretchy and skintight, the garments mostly rolled off into balls. I dropped them on the floor, then stood before the other man completely bare.
His interest piqued as his yellow eyes tracked down my body, and I wished my dick were harder. Hard at all. Flaccid didn’t exactly give off fuck-me vibes.
Shifting, I cleared the thickness from my throat. “Where do you want me?”
Beck blinked a few times, then nodded at the messy mattress. “The bed’s fine.”
I headed toward it, only a step or two, then paused when I heard the swish and slide of the other man undressing. I glanced over my shoulder to get a look at the body he had wrapped up in that fancy suit.
I’d seen plenty of people naked.
Okay, a handful.
Just the other dancers, actually.
But Beck didn’t look like any of them. His body was more polished.
Finished off. Like the work that had begun in his prime was complete, and here he was now, a whole entire man.
He was tan and toned, with wisps of dark hair scattered across his chest and forming a trail from his navel down to his cock.
Unlike me, he was plenty hard, and big. Bigger than anybody I’d seen, except Oz.
I tore my eyes away from his genitals only to catch his gaze instead.
He was staring right at me.
I spun around to face the bed like a scolded child, then climbed onto the mattress on my hands and knees, cursing the knot of sheets already getting in the way.
“Do you need to prep or anything?”
Beck’s question had me looking over my shoulder again.
Lube or a courtesy finger were not kindnesses often offered to a prostitute. I was expected to be primed and ready, so I supposed I was.
“I’m good,” I replied, sounding as uncertain as I felt.
I’d touched myself a few times. Mostly fondled my dick and jerked off to burn off steam or try to get sleepy after the club closed in the wee hours of the morning.
But I hadn’t ever put anything in my ass.
I might have needed to prep, but all the dildos were in the sex room downstairs, and the only thing I had for lubrication was a travel-sized bottle of lotion I borrowed from Darby.
He said I had dry skin. On my face. But I hadn’t used it there.
I braced on the bed on all fours, presenting myself like a bitch in heat as Beck closed in again. He put one hand on my waist, and the other brushed over my ass until I felt a finger dragging up my crease.
I gripped the bedsheets as the digit prodded the rim of my hole.
“I said I’m good,” I gritted out.
The finger retreated, and I huffed a breath.
Beck’s hand slid along my back next, toward my head where it curved around the nape of my neck. Then, it pushed me face first into the mattress in a pose that forced my legs to spread wider. I must have looked obscene.
“Get your ass up,” Beck grunted, then tugged on my waist.
My brows drew together. My ass was already on a pedestal. Served up and ready to be fucked. But I was nothing if not flexible, so I dropped my belly to give my spine a dramatic arch that drew a low note from Beck. Lust drifted into the air.
It was already better. Already more than what I got from the people who watched me onstage. I snaked my tongue out, trying to catch his desire like it was a snowflake drifting down.
My stance widened, and my back curved as I braced to take him. Dry. Raw. However he wanted me. It might hurt, but it couldn’t be as bad as the hunger relentlessly chewing up my insides, eating through me like acid.
Beck’s hands skated down my sides and past the narrowest part of my waist. His skin was warm and soft as he dragged his fingers over my hips and around my thighs, tracing the shape of me.
I liked the way I felt between his palms.
I wanted to look at him again, to see if his eyes glowed like mine did.
I imagined them as fiery lanterns in the dark room.
Part of me wanted to kiss him. Taste more than his pheromones and tether myself to him in some more meaningful way.
His caress was encouraging, but I felt detached, like I was outside my body looking in, wondering when this would end.
Palming my ass cheeks, Beck spread me open so his cockhead could test my entrance. The blunt end poked and prodded, and I knew I needed to relax, let him in, but my body refused to relent.
When he drew back, I thought I’d lost him for sure. He didn’t strike me as an overly patient man, and I was trying what little he had. But before I could protest or plead again, the fingers that had been so gentle before stabbed into me. Two digits speared inside and scissored me open.
It did hurt.
It burned raw in a way that made stars sparkle across my vision. I yelped and tried to buck away, but Beck caught my hip and held me, thrusting deeper and curling until he hit something.
Oh…
“God, you’re wet.”
His voice was a rasp, and his breath rushed hot across my back as he bent over me.
What the fuck was that?
An explosion of yes accompanied the dampness that slicked his fingers as they twisted in my hole. I writhed, trying to squirm free without being sure I wanted to. Then, he rubbed the spot that made me jerk, and I rocked back into his touch with a much louder cry.
With another flick of his fingers, I was shivering and pushing up on my arms after he’d so purposefully angled me down. My mouth hung open, tongue lolling as I sucked at the air, savoring the honeysuckle sweetness of every gasp.
It was delicious.
Beck spread his fingers again, stretching my hole wide before he pulled out. The removal was abrupt. Quick, the way he’d said he wanted to do this, and I barely had time to chase his retreat before he was on me again, grabbing my waist and rolling me onto my back.
He’d been standing before, but now he crawled onto the bed, using his arms and legs to pen me in. Sprawled on the mattress and shadowed by the bulk of his body, I felt more exposed than ever.
But he was handsome. Tan and toned and every bit as firm as I’d hoped he would be. And his eyes glowed like nightlights in the contours of his face. Tiny flames warring against the dark.
Beck sat back on his haunches, then grabbed my ankles, tugging me forward until my knees were hooked around his arms and my bare ass rested against his thighs. When he grasped his cock, I blew out a breath, readying myself for the first plunging thrust.
Without a word of warning, he invaded me. I was wet, slick with arousal that aided his entry, but it was still a stretch to take him. Tingling pain pulsed through my limbs and made my toes curl. I squirmed and whimpered.
Did he know this was my first time? Was it obvious how strange this all felt? And was it normal to waffle so erratically between wariness and want?
My cock had stiffened, lying atop my stomach and pressed between us. When Beck moved at last, his abs dragged over my length while his dick slid smoothly inside my channel. The combined sensation had my eyes rolling back, and I arched into him, bending, stretching, pressing to take more.
My response must have encouraged him because he adjusted his grip, bracing his arms against my back and sinking his fingers into my shoulders. I was splayed open like a pinned butterfly when he railed into me again.
And again.
Again.
The deep, punishing thrusts seemed apt to split me in half.
I flailed, seeking purchase on his muscled torso, then drawing up until I had as firm a grip on him as he had on me.
The shift in position had him moving differently, and he hit that spot inside with full force.
I unraveled with a shout, then a whine, and raked my nails across every bit of his skin I could reach.
Beck’s next breath was a hiss, and he dropped me onto the mattress, angled down the slope of his thighs. He kept fucking me, scrubbing my head against the sheets and sinking into my ass until I was wailing.
“Hush!” His hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my cry. It was a weighty touch, a claiming grab that pinned me to the bed while he pistoned into me with brutal abandon.
Silenced, restrained, penetrated… it all caught up with me in a rush of panic. This wasn’t Maslow’s room with shackles on the bed or gags to shove down my throat, but it functioned the same.
Did I want that?
Did I want this?
With Beck on top of me, my entire view was his face, shoulders, and arms enveloping me.
The gel that had shaped his hair into perfect swaths had split, and now his dark locks hung loose against his temples, glinting with occasional threads of silver.
Lines creased his brow as his expression drew taut with a composure I couldn’t hope to match.
Poised regally above me, he used my body while I bathed in the waves of his pleasure.
I did want it.
My instincts roused to the fullness in my ass and the pressure on my lips that was unyielding and as intimate as a kiss.
I gasped against Beck’s fingers, then slipped my tongue out to flick at his skin. Tasting. Savoring. I nipped at his flesh and sucked on the pads of his fingers and before I knew it, I was moaning.
“Whoa,” Beck rumbled. “Slow down, kid, you’re gonna strain yourself.”
But I didn’t slow down, and neither did he. He thrust into me without reprieve, and I moaned louder, snaking my tongue between his digits and swallowing.
I licked and sucked and panted with my hands knotted in the sheets and my body bent in half. Beck rocked my hips higher, tilting me backward until I was half lifted off the bed with my head trapped beneath his hand. My lips felt bruised, scraping against my teeth as I gasped another cry.
Lust formed a cloud around us, dense enough to choke on, and I opened my mouth wider, seeking clean air but taking two fingers to the back of my throat instead.
I gagged, then suckled, nursing Beck’s fingers like they were the source of my sustenance.
He slid the digits over my tongue, pressing and probing while my cock leaked a steady stream of precum, slicking our stomachs with fluid.
Beck groaned while he watched his fingers disappear into the wet heat of my mouth. I held his gaze and hollowed my cheeks, consuming him in every way I could. Taking him for all he was worth.
My balls were tight, my body rigid, and my brain fuzzy when Beck climaxed with a grunt. The feeling of his seed spilling into me rubbed my nerves raw and started me trembling.
Full.
Finally.
I could have passed out from the pleasure, then slept for days.
But I was too close to my own release. Perched at the peak of ecstasy and so ready to tip over it that when Beck pumped into me one last time, driving his load impossibly deep, it sent me sailing.
My orgasm chased his, setting off spasms like shockwaves and making my muscles clench from my feet all the way into my jaw.
My teeth clamped down, snapping like a trap around Beck’s fingers. The coppery tang of blood flooded my mouth, and I sputtered, gagging again as all thoughts of ecstasy drained rapidly away.