Chapter 10
The morning light burst in, shining all over the bedroom. Feeling the heat of another body beside me, I stirred. My leg was draped over him, my hand resting on his hairy chest. For a moment, I forgot the situation and let myself sink into the comfort of his presence. It felt like just another morning waking up sated in a sexy man's bed.
My hand started to wander, tracing the hard lines of his ab muscles, feeling the smoothness of his skin on the way down until I buried my hand in a well-manicured bush. Vince made delicious noises in his sleep, soft groans that sent a shudder up my spine. I snuggled closer, burying my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his macho scent.
Then it all came back to me. This wasn’t just another casual morning, after casual sex. I was pretending to be in love with a man I barely knew, for reasons I was still trying to wrap my head around. Vince hadn’t made any moves, had tried nothing. It was a slap in the face. Maybe he found me disgusting. Maybe he regretted this whole charade.
The thought propelled me out of bed. Wiping my hands, I needed to clear my head. I grabbed my biker clothes—the only ones I had—and headed to the bathroom to shower and dress. The hot water did little to wash away my frustration. I scrubbed my skin until it was red, as if that could erase the confusion and insecurity.
When I emerged from the bathroom, dressed in my leather jacket and jeans, Vince was awake, propped up on one elbow and watching me with a bemused expression. His hair all a mess, he was adorably sexy.
"You can’t wear that out of this room," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
I bristled at his tone. "Why not? It’s all I’ve got."
He sat up fully, his eyes locking onto mine with a force. "Take it off."
His command sent a thrill through me, despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He was so damn sure of himself, so commanding. I wanted to defy him, to challenge his authority. But the way he looked at me, the way his voice wrapped around me like a vice, it was impossible to resist.
Instead of going to the bathroom, I stood at the foot of the bed and slowly unzipped my jacket. His eyes darkened as the leather slid down my arms and fell to the floor. I kicked off my boots and peeled off my jeans, leaving me standing in just my bra and panties.
Vince’s gaze roamed over my body, his expression deadly. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly powerful. I was taking control of this situation, showing him I wasn’t afraid of him or this ridiculous arrangement.
“Better?” I challenged, my voice soft but rebellious.
He shot to his feet, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Much better," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with that commanding edge.
Vince’s eyes never left mine as he took another step closer, his warm breath reaching my skin. "Take the rest of it off," he ordered, all raspy.
Shivering, I wanted to challenge him, to push back, but there was something about the way he commanded me that made me want to obey. Slowly, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. His gaze grew darker as I slid my panties down, stepping out of them and standing naked before him.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just let his ice blue eyes roam over my body. I felt exposed, raw, and incredibly turned on. Finally, he spoke, his voice a husky whisper. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”
My pulse quickened, but I did as he said, climbing onto the bed and positioning myself as he had commanded. The anticipation was electric, every nerve ending in my body on high alert. I felt his hands on my hips, his grip firm and possessive.
“Atta girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Now stay still.”
I clenched my fists in the sheets, biting my lip to keep from moaning as his hands roamed over my body, teasing and tormenting me. His touch was so soft, yet firm as he caressed my breasts. Even his fingers knew how to get what they wanted as he ran them down my navel into my slick folds. He was taking his time, driving me wild with need.
Not only that, but the man was also inspecting every inch of me. I could tell from the way he’d linger on any imperfection, like a rough patch of skin. The way he’d paused to circle a mole. I had never felt so exposed, so dirty, and yet so desperately aroused.
“Spread your legs wider,” he instructed, his tone rough with desire. I obeyed, feeling a rush of heat between my thighs as he studied my pussy. Suddenly, he shifted his body to my rear, his hands clutching my waist as he positioned himself. “Do you want this?”
"Yes," I burst out, my body shaking with anticipation.
“Beg for it,” he ordered, his hold tightening on my skin.
“Please, Vince,” I moaned, unable to hold back any longer. “Please fuck me.”
Instead of giving me what I begged for, he strained back, and I felt a cold, sharp sensation against my skin. A familiar sensation. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what it was. My knife. He must have found it.
“Interesting thing I discovered,” he grumbled, running the blade lightly down my vertebrae. “I hear you like knife play. Or perhaps you planned to kill me?”
My breath caught in my throat. Part of me wanted to scream, but another part was extremely turned on by the danger. “Vince,” I whimpered, my sexual want winning.
“Does this scare you?” he asked, the knife tracing the curve of my hip.
"Kinda," I admitted, the idea of him being in control of the knife was both scary and exciting.
“Atta girl,” he growled, his tone a dark promise. “Fear can be a powerful aphrodisiac.”
He continued to run the blade over my skin, not cutting but just enough to make me hyper-aware of every movement. Holding completely still, I felt a rush of adrenaline, my body responding to the dangerous game we were playing. The thrill of it all had me hooked.
"Turn over," he directed, his firm voice allowing no space for debate.
I obeyed, rolling onto my back, my eyes never leaving his. The knife danced over my stomach, down to my inner thighs, each touch sending quakes through me. I was completely at his mercy, and I loved it.
Our eyes were locked, and for the first time, I saw the desire in his eyes, the need that matched my own.
“You’re mine for now,” he said, his lip quivering. “And you’re going to show me just how much you want this.”
He guided my hand to the waist of his silk pants, his eyes dark with yearning. “Take it off.”
I slid his pants down, exposing his hardness. His cock was just as glorious as him, tall, thick, elegant, and ever so arrogantly aware of it.
He moved the blade between my legs. He didn’t penetrate me with it, but he carefully teased me, the cold metal a balm to the heat building inside me.
“Now, pleasure me,” he demanded, his face dripping sex.
I took his beautiful cock in my hand, stroking him slowly, my eyes locked onto his. The knife continued to dance over my sensitive skin, heightening my senses, making every touch more intense until it moved completely, rushing to under my chin.
Knowing what he craved, I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the soft head of his dick.
Vince groaned, and his grip tightened on the knife. “Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice thick as his dick.
I worked him with my mouth, the threat of the knife against my skin driving me wild as I sucked. I sensed his pressure building, his whole body reacting to the movements of my tongue.
As he neared his climax, his hand tangled in my hair, guiding my movements. I detected his control slipping, his need overwhelming him. With a final, deep thrust into my throat, he came, his salty release overfilling my mouth.
Vince yanked back, his breathing heavy, the knife falling to the bed.
Swallowing as much as I could, I glanced up at him, my own breathing erratic, my body still buzzing with the intensity of what we had just done. And despite everything, I realized I wanted more.
Just when I thought it was over, Vince wasn’t done. He grabbed my wrist, heaving me back to him. His eyes were still dark with want, a predatory gleam in them that sent my libido into a frenzy.
"On your knees, Psycho," he ordered, that stern voice of his leaving no room for argument.
My pussy dripping, I obeyed. Vince positioned himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips with a possessive force that made me gasp.
He bent over me, his mouth at my ear. "You thought we were done? Not even close," he growled, his words sending utter delight through me.
Before I could respond, he thrust into me, hard and deep. A cry escaped my lips, the sudden fullness overwhelming.
“I’m not even all the way in, Psycho. Do you believe I have big balls and a cock to match, now?” Vince didn't hold back, his movements rough and demanding, each thrust moving my body, jerking the bed.
He was trying to prove his point. "Do you like this big dick?" he crooned. "Are you grateful?"
"Yes," I moaned, unable to hold back. "Yes, Vince. I love it."
He clung to me as he punched deeper. I gulped. His pace quickened. The room started blurring as I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure building with each powerful strike.
As I was on the brink of breaking, the door to the bedroom swung open. Margo stood there, her eyes widening in shock at the sight before her.
"Sir! I-I'm sorry," she stammered, frozen in the doorway.
Vince didn't stop, his rhythm never faltering. "Get out," he barked with authority.
Margo backed out of the room, her face flushed, the door closing behind her. The interruption only seemed to spur Vince on, his movements more desperate.
"You’re my bride, Sybil," he proclaimed, his voice rough. "Say it."
The force of his desire, the possessiveness in every push, sent me to the edge more than anything physical. "I’m your bride," I moaned out, my body trembling with my impending orgasm.
"Atta girl," he muttered, his movements slowing but more defined. "Now come for me."
With his final, deep thrust, I shattered around him, my climax ripping through me with a ferocity that left me out of breath. Vince followed me over the edge, shouting out as he did.
We collapsed onto the bed, breathless and sweaty. Vince caught me in his arms, pulling me close as if we’d just won a race. But instead of the tenderness I might have expected, his words were harsh.
"You're a dirty little whore," he cooed in my ear. "And you're going to play your part well as my bride-to-be. It'll be more believable if we're fucking like rabbits."
I raised my eyes to him, my own breath still unsettled. "I don’t know if this is more than a one time thing," I said, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Vince's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the ring on my finger. "Look at that big rock on your hand. Get into the part, Sybil. You're madly in love with me, and my big balls, remember?"
Biting my lip, I studied the beautiful solitaire, the weight of the diamond suddenly heavy. My mind raced back to my days of acting, the countless hours spent perfecting a role. But this was no act. What just happened was real, raw, and unfiltered. Still, I was willing to go along with him, to play the part of the woman madly in love with Vince. I had to be all in.
"Fine," I said, my voice steady. "I do love your big balls, and your cock isn’t half bad."
A wicked smile spread across Vince's face. "Good. Now get some rest. We've got a lot more work to do to convince the world."
As I lay there, my body still tingling from the orgasm, I knew one thing for sure. This was going to be one hell of a ride.