Chapter 3 #2
I exited the building, finding the supplies shed.
Most of the staff had left for their lunch break, which is precisely why I went there.
It was called the ‘supplies shed,’ but it housed the break room and storage facilities for different subsections of work here on the estate.
I leaned against the exterior, watching the main building in the distance, waiting for that head of blond hair to emerge like a ring of fire.
And when Zira finally did, stilettoed sandals clinging to her delicate feet, she passed me without a glance, then dove into the pool.
Perfect teeth. Pink lips. Blue eyes, more dangerous than a glacier. And a pert little body, tanned and glowing, covered in oil, like a meal ready for me to devour. I wiped my forehead.
I went inside the supplies shed, found one of my ‘work’ crates, then took out the bull skull mask.
I had stolen it from an old employee, back in Northside, a man who collected oddities like this one.
It wasn’t a traditional bull skull with eyes on the sides, but had holes hollowed into the front for a human to wear.
The snout stretched forth, bigger than most bulls, almost as if it transformed the wearer into a monster.
The skull was heavy on my head, shifting back and forth with each step.
My vision narrowed to those circles. I walked around the supplies shed, then found a patio set hidden to the side of the pool.
An umbrella stretched out, and from this angle, I could see Zira sprawled out on one of those high-end pool chairs, the white swimsuit fabric—see-through now that it was wet—clinging to her body.
Suddenly, she dived into the water again, then burst out.
There wasn’t another staff member in sight.
I unzipped my pants, pulling out my cock.
I rubbed the head of my tattooed dick, watching as she emerged from the pool, her bare feet stepping on each rung.
Water beaded down her body in a race to lick the ground she walked on.
Zira laid on the side of the pool, her bare back against the concrete, her arms stretched out over her head, water brushing between her breasts like the tide.
Her lips wet. Her hair slicked back like a goddess.
The mask rattled against my head as I clutched my dick until it was red and black.
I wanted her to catch me. I wanted to see her face when she realized she was being violated by a man who didn’t care if she found out he was watching her.
I wanted her to know I didn’t care, because I wanted her.
She was power trapped inside of a cage, and goddamn it all, I wanted to let her out.
Sensing my presence, Zira sat up, searching around until her eyes glazed over me.
I fucked myself harder, my fist pounding into my groin, remembering how her throat squeezed around my dick as a crowd of people watched us.
Hundreds of eyes beamed on us as I took her life in my hands with each click of that remote.
Her head was so pretty in the guillotine as her husband tried to fuck her from behind and failed, emasculated by me.
Zira stepped toward me, her feet flat on the ground, but I kept pounding my fist over my length, gripping my dick like a steering wheel in a car about to crash. Without her heels, she made it to my shoulders, but sitting on the patio chair, gripping my dick, she towered over me, eclipsing the sun.
She greedily gawked at my dick, no doubt recognizing the tattoo.
Black barbed wires curled around my reddened skin.
It was a tattoo I had gotten on a whim, and it was only supposed to be a little ring at the base of my dick, but the pain of the needle was like pure ecstasy, so I asked the artist to do the full length.
Locking eyes with me, Zira bent down, peering into the holes of the mask, searing into my soul.
She smacked the mask off of my head, letting it clatter to the ground, but I refused to stop fucking myself. But once her blue eyes met mine, I forgot what I was doing. She had that sort of power that locked you into a standstill.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I want to see you come.”
My palm rode over the crown of my dick, the heat getting to me, using my sweat as lubricant.
“Or you could join me,” I rasped.
“I’m married,” she said, drawing out her words like molasses. She dangled that giant rock on her finger in my face. “All I want is a good show.”
I scoffed, still gripping the head of my dick, almost angry that this was her reaction, to treat me like a trick pony.
But I didn’t stop. My palm slid up and down over my veiny shaft as I took in every inch of her.
Her thighs smashed together. The curve of her stomach. The small hills of her breasts.
Fuck it.
I lurched forward and grabbed that ball of hair, crushing her thick bun until water dripped over my palms, a wave of shock pulsing through her.
Chlorinated water drenched my hands, and I plopped back on the seat, using that liquid as lube.
It would evaporate soon, but this was good enough for now. A single touch to tease me.
“Married. Right,” I grunted. It was an arranged marriage, one of convenience, not of love, or even lust. He tried to fuck her like he cared about her at the Masquerade, but he lost his focus as soon as a man with a bigger dick walked into the room.
He meant nothing to her. He was an opportunity that had been written in her life long before she had the chance to say, I’d rather not.
“You say that,” I continued, “but you live here. On the grounds. With your daddy. You don’t give a fuck about your husband, just like your husband doesn’t care about you.”
She clicked her teeth shut, then tilted her head.
“I’m not going to move away from the power, now am I, Hazard?” she purred, ready with an exact response. She breathed down my nose. “I have a feeling that’s exactly what you’re doing. Trying to claw your way up to the top, like me.”
I let go of my cock, energy twitching through me. She was reading me like an open book, but what she didn’t realize was that I wasn’t as goal-oriented as she was. I was simple. I liked to enjoy things. And it was a blast to hold that grip over someone.
Her lips opened as her eyelids fluttered with lust. I got this feeling like Zira rarely let another person hold that kind of power over her, unless she benefited from it somehow.
“Don’t stop,” she whined.
I bit my upper lip, tearing it with my teeth, then stood up, pulling a knife from my pocket, flicking it against her throat.
I yanked her back, gripping that massive bun of hair.
My pants sagged down to my hips, my cock still throbbing for her, so damn close to her cunt with only that thin bikini between us.
Her ripe fragrance, mixed with the magnolia trees, swirled inside of me like a head high.
“Let me tell you something right now,” I said, my voice low and hoarse.
Her neck quivered against the knife, excitement taking her by surprise.
“I may have offered you an invitation, love, but I’m no gentlemen, and I’m only honorable to royalty when it fits me best. If I want you, I will fucking take you.
” I clenched my jaw. “And one day soon, you’re going to kneel before me.
By choice. And you’re going to feel like it’s the last thrill of your life. Because it just might be.”
A staggered moan erupted from her mouth as I pressed the knife deeper into her throat, but still not enough to cut her.
My thigh pressed between her legs, her swimsuit soaking through my pants.
Each fold of her pussy grasped me like she needed my touch to live.
I gripped the knife and her hair with the last thread of composure I had, my dick begging to finish the job.
“Is that a promise?” she whispered.
Fuck. Me.
I let go of her hair and slid the knife down the column of her neck, dragging a white line across her skin before folding the blade and stowing it in my pocket.
She was a lioness, waiting to hunt me. Completely unafraid.
I zipped up my pants, my dick hard as ever.
Her gaze stayed glued to me, but I nodded at the bull mask.
“Let’s trade,” I said. “A mask for a crown.”
She huffed through her nostrils, a hint of amusement sparked on her lips. “I don’t want your mask,” she said. “I want something else.”
“Fair,” I said.
“But I’m curious. What do you want, Hazard?”
I put a finger under her chin. “What do I want, love?” I asked, dipping my face closer to hers.
I needed to find out what happened to my sister, but right then, my mind was completely absorbed by Zira.
“I want you on a platter. Naked. Helpless. And ready for me.” I winked, then gestured at the mask again, pulling away from her.
“You should try it on sometime. You’d look good in a skull. ”
I popped my jaw, letting the crack of bone ripple between us.
Her lips hung open, ready to take me in, and that’s exactly how I wanted to leave her—desperate for more.
I walked away, back toward the supplies shed, and her focus burned into my back.
She was as curious about me as I was about her.
Zira had her hands bound in power; she knew things.
With a little luck and a good stroke, she might even give me everything I wanted.