Luca
A n array of fragrances marries the thick scent of cigars, creating the heavily perfumed cloud I’ve come to associate with Vegas. Usually, the stench of fried food and sex accompany it, creating a nauseating combination that took months for me to figure out how to wash out of my clothes.
But this isn’t that sort of establishment.
No, this strip club has more class than the ones my boss runs.
In a way, it reminds me of Désirer.
I stalk toward the back, where the private rooms are. The floral arrangement in my hands drips water from the flower cooler where I retrieved them, a gorgeous distraction that shields the lethal beauty within the bouquet .
She’s called me here tonight. My piccola demone. My little demon.
And like a moth to a flame, I came. Unable to resist the temptation of drawing blood from her once more.
It’s been like this for weeks now—this game of cat and mouse. We keep telling each other we will kill the other, but neither of us can deny the state of euphoria the other elicits.
If I’d known such a delicacy existed within Désirer’s walls, I’d have moved on from Carmela in a heartbeat.
The woman I used to be so infatuated with would have never let me make her bleed. No, when Carmela captured my attention, I was forced to put my monster in a cage and lock the doors. She was my chance at a different life. A domestic one that I thought I wanted.
Now that Misty has come along and pried the bars open with a crowbar, I realize I could have never thoroughly tamed the beast within me.
“ID?” A man stops me outside the hall leading to the private rooms. Quietly, I hand my fake one over, unsure if Misty used it or my real name.
Apparently, it’s the former, as the man hands it back over and checks off a name on his list. “She said you’d take care of the cameras?” he mentions as he holds out his hand .
Gruffly, I laugh. “Of course she did.” The little bitch.
I deposit a few crisp hundreds in his hand before tucking my wallet back into the inner pocket of my suit jacket—right next to a syringe of Midazolam.
I don’t want my little demon knocked out; just a little easier to handle while I take what I want from her tonight. I want her pliable. Willing. But unable to stab me in the back while she comes on my cock—which she would gladly do.
Our game doesn’t end tonight.
The room is dripping in gold-colored embellishments from the faux-marbled flooring to the wall of liquid that runs horizontally through three of the walls, bubbling like there’s actual champagne housed within the glass. A black leather booth encloses a small black-lacquered stage with a sparkling gold pole in the center of it.
And wrapped around the pole, wearing nothing but a flimsy thong, is my piccola demone.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” she lilts as she wraps a leg around the glittering golden rod and uses her weight to spin upside down before righting herself again.
My cock hardens immediately as her full breasts bounce, nipples erect and just begging to be bitten. A rush of adrenaline courses through my veins when I see my handy work on her abdomen. A rugged slash of red puckered skin that’s just now starting to fade back to the color of her flesh at the edges.
I step closer to the stage, imagining what it would feel like to pull her skin apart and watch the blood well at the surface. “We have to stop meeting like this. I’m beginning to think you truly enjoy my company. Not that you want to kill me, piccola demone.”
She lets out the tinkling giggle that is her unique laugh. “There won’t be many more meetings, il mio mostro. I’m growing tired of this game.”
Something grips my chest, icy fingers of knobby bone crushing through the blackened organ. I place the roses on the leathery surface of the booth, gripping the edge of the stage to peer up at her. She flips upside down and spreads her legs wide.
The little slut is already soaked.
“You don’t look tired. So fucking wet for me already,” I growl.
Misty smirks, moving into a headstand position before gently, and expertly, kicking off the pole to lower her legs around my neck. Her body bends in half as she pushes her pussy in my face and undulates her hips, grinding against me.
Her juices soak my nose as I open my mouth to blow hot breath into her core. I wrap my hands around her thighs and hold her to me while I breathe her scent in—vanilla and roses and pure, unadulterated lust.
“I hate that you make me this way,” she whispers from her contorted position.
“No, you don’t,” I speak directly into her, shoving her thong into her hole with my nose before I lick a path up her slit. I moan, loud and disgustingly, as I sloppily kiss her clit. “If you truly hated it, you’d never have sought me out again.”
She exhales a sharp breath as my teeth close over her sensitive bundle of nerves, nibbling on her hard enough to make her hips buck. Her skin pulls taut between my teeth as she retreats. I make her work for it, tightening my bite before finally letting go when she squeals.
With her eyebrows furrowed deeply and her seafoam orbs shining bright with rage, she snarls, “Make no mistake, il mio mostro. I’ll be your end. That is the only reason I found you again.”
“And I’ll be yours, piccola demone,” I say darkly.
She snorts and goes to move off the stage, opening those sinful lips to retort when I reach into my jacket and pull the syringe out, stabbing her in the thigh quickly. The dosage I give her is so low it will take a while to kick in—which is fine because I want to take my time with her tonight .
Growling like a feral cat, she launches herself at me after knocking the needle away. Long, black-painted nails pierce my cheeks as she scratches at me, keening like an animal in heat as she attacks my throat with her teeth and bites down like she’s trying to rip out my jugular.
Twisting her long, chestnut waves in my hand, I pull her off me with a roar before dragging her from the stage. She scrambles to regain her footing, hands continuing to claw at me with frenzied, uncalculated blows.
“It seems that you’re not on your A game tonight.” I chuckle, tossing her to the floor. I remove my jacket and quickly make work of the buttons on my shirt before pulling it over my head.
Misty glares up at me from the floor, making no effort to get up. Her eyes rake over my muscles as my hands move to my belt. “Who's to say I don’t have something up my sleeve for later?”
A crack resonates through the room as I swiftly pull my belt from its loops and whip it out. “You’re already naked,” I bend down to grab ahold of the material covering her between her legs and rip it away from her body, baring the rest of her to me, “so unless you have something hiding in that pretty little cunt, I’ll take my chances.”
Dropping to my knees, I knock her back with my sheer size, reaching down to shove two fingers inside of her. She’s warm and tight and so goddamn wet that I groan. “Look at that. Nothing here. Completely empty and ready for my cock to destroy.”
She laughs; the melodic, tinkling giggle filling the room as her nails find purchase in my shoulders and drag down my arms. I swallow the sound as our lips battle. Her legs cage my hips, the lurid sounds of her pussy devouring my fingers taking its place as her tight walls suction around my digits, pulsating with a life of its own.
My cock throbs. So fucking ready to be consumed by her heat. But it’s not time yet.
Tearing myself away from her, I smirk at the whimper of outrage that leaves her lips. She tries to rise, but her movements are sluggish. She writhes on the floor as she watches me reach for the roses, eyes widening with intrigue as I pull a slim knife from the bouquet.
“Coward,” the word is slow as it leaves her lips.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you tonight,” I explain, wrapping my free hand around her hair to drag her to a sitting position. I’m too tall, and it’s not the right height for what I want to do to her, so I pick her up and hoist her over my shoulder, bringing her over to where the booth flattens like a chaise. “Tonight, I’m going to leave you wanting while I even the score between us. ”
She makes an unintelligible sound as I slam her down on the leather cushions before propping her up. I set the knife on the stage, quickly ridding myself of my pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she eyes my throbbing length. There’s already precum beaded at the tip of my flushed crown as I grab my cock in one hand and the knife in the other.
Kneeling on the leather, I smear it over her mouth as I bring the blade to her neck. “Open your mouth and show me how much you hate me. And don’t you even think about trying to bite it off, or I’ll end your life before you can finish the job.”
A gasp flies from her lips as I press the edge of the blade into her skin hard enough that a thin line of blood wells at the surface. I take the opportunity to shove my cock between her open lips, thrusting in nearly to my root.
Misty’s head bobs automatically, adjusting to take my size, seafoam glazing over with lust as she moans around me. She sucks hard as I retreat as if trying to stop me from leaving the heat of her willing mouth. I pull out all the way, watching as she licks and sucks the tip before gathering the saliva in her mouth and letting it pool as I shove my way back inside. Her head hits the back of the booth as I take over her throat.
She tries to swallow around me, her throat constricting to trap my dick in a vise grip for a second that has me tipping my head back in pleasure. “Fuck, why couldn’t you have approached me sooner?”
As I look back down, our eyes lock as she slowly raises her hands to lay her palms against my thighs. I tangle my hand in her strands again, tightening my fingers to hold her head down on me. “Think of all the fun we could have had at Désirer.”
There’s a sharp prick as she begins to struggle, but I refuse to let her go and press the knife into her flesh in a different place, drawing blood as she pushes against me. After a few more moments, I release her, pulling out of her mouth completely.
Her chest heaves as she gasps for air, drawing my attention to her rosy nipples. Unhurriedly, I drag the knife along her skin, down past her collarbone, and over the swell of her breast before I press the tip into the hardened peak. Without a word, she looks down to watch as I circle her areola, blood following the trail I make.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Misty? Why’d you wait so long to find me?”
She opens her mouth to answer, and I shove my cock back between her lips, cutting off her words and forcing them into a jumble of incoherent syllables. But instead of getting angry, she closes her eyes and sucks my cock like her life depends on it, even though I’ve assured her that, for tonight, it doesn’t .
Dragging the knife upward again, I enjoy the goosebumps that erupt over her skin. My fingers tighten as I steel myself from going too deep. Her teeth graze my length with every cut I make until the left side of her is bloody from her breast to her neck.
“So fucking beautiful.” Palming the knife, I hold her head to me as I pull her up, making her scramble onto her shins. I swipe two fingers through her blood and hold them up for her to see. “I’ve got your saliva on my dick, your blood on my hands, and your pussy juices leaking all over the booth. Tell me, Misty, do you want to come? Does this turn you on as much as it does me?”
Tears line her eyes as she struggles to breathe, and my cock jumps in her throat at the sight. I let her go and push her away, giving her a moment of reprieve as she slumps back. A trail of saliva falls from her lips, connecting to my cock as it falls from her mouth and bobs in the air between us.
"Tell me what you want, piccola demone. Do you want to ride my face until that euphoric orgasm hits? Do you want me to fuck you rough and hard until you're bleeding? Tell me."
Her legs fall open, her pussy pink and flushed and so wet she might have already come. Her clit is engorged, peeking up at me from under the hood, just begging for me to pay attention to it.
She moans as I lay the flat of the blade directly over her wet flesh, hips rising to meet the bloodied metal. “Yes,” she whispers, sliding down until she’s lying on her back, hips undulating lazily against the knife. “Yes to it all.”
“Sick fucking slut,” I laugh the words into the air like a prayer. This is the type of religion I’m into. And my piccola demone is the most perfect goddess I’ve ever worshiped.
“Ahh!” she lets out a cry as the tip of the knife pokes her hood. A thick, creamy stream releases from her pussy as it tightens around the air. She watches as I scoop it with my bloodied fingers and stick them in my mouth, making a show of licking them clean.
Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth, her entire lower face glistening with saliva and my precum. “How does it taste?” She sounds so fucking innocent when she asks. So eager to hear me tell her it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever tasted.
“Like poison,” I tell her before slamming my cock into her so hard it rocks her body backward. I lay the knife above her head before gathering her wrists in one hand to make sure she can’t go after it.
Every thrust is rough. Her tits bounce. Her head thrashes back and forth. A sultry smile parts her lips as she stares up at me reverently because she thinks she’s getting exactly what she wants.
Sweat begins to bead at my hairline as I pound into her, our flesh slapping together as her arousal mixes with the blood that’s pooling from the cut I made just above her clit. My sweat smears the blood from every cut as I lean down and bury my face in her neck. My saliva blends with it as I clamp my teeth around a mouthful of flesh and bite down as I drill my cock so deep into her she’s going to feel my cum coat the insides of her chest.
Her breathing picks up, her body shifting to press her clit against my pubic bone for friction, but I angle my hips in a way where I fuck her deeper, and she gets nothing more than the rock-hard length of my dick. That’s it.
Jackhammering my hips and relishing in her squeals, I come hard and continue biting her through it, spilling hot, thick ropes of cum along her slick walls before pulling out to empty the rest onto her body. I paint her pussy, her stomach, and her tits before finishing on her face.
And she doesn’t come at all.
She’s a goddamn masterpiece when I’m finally spent. Covered in blood and cum, and dripping with so much ire that she’s probably imagining me burning to ashes right now.
I release her wrists and grab the knife before moving off the booth to gather my clothes.
Misty is more than likely in the height of her drugged state. Heavy with a semi-state of sedation and unable to come after me .
“Pretty sure this evens the score, piccola demone.”
The only answer I get is silence as I dress and leave her, much like she left me when she began our game.