Chapter 19

ATLAS

“Down.”

She obeyed the command, going to her knees and crawling her naked body across the floor like a feline. All that golden skin over a toned body that looked damn good for a woman of a certain age. I licked my lips before they spread into a slow grin.

A cougar. That’s what she looked like slinking toward me; eyes focused on mine like I was her prey. To the world, considering our twenty-year age difference, that’s precisely what I was, what I had been since my twentieth birthday. As usual, the world had no fuckin’ clue.

Sitting with my legs spread, arms stretched over the back of the couch I held her gaze.

Auntie August had some pretty ass eyes. They were always smiling at me like she was happy to see me.

I used to be happy as hell to see her waiting in the schoolyard when I came out the back door.

I loved when she picked me up because that meant we were going to her house which was significantly cleaner than the one-bedroom apartment I lived in with my mother.

I was four when my mother moved us out of Aunt Maggie’s house.

Aunt Maggie’s place was always hot like a damn furnace and smelled like pine-sol. Mama’s apartment smelled like weed.

Auntie August was really my godmother. And she was better than anyone else’s.

That’s what I told those jealous ass kids in my class from elementary through middle school.

Mama said she and Auntie August were like cousins since Auntie August’s grandmother lived next door to Aunt Maggie.

My first memories of Auntie August picking me up from school were filled with the bomb ass car she drove and the soft seats.

She let me ride in the front seat with that seatbelt pulled tight over my nine-year-old body.

We always went for ice cream after school. I had vanilla and she had chocolate.

I was in the eighth grade when Auntie August pulled up at the corner of the middle school.

I jogged to her car then watched her ass as she got out and walked around to the passenger side to get in.

Grinning like I’d hit the lottery, I climbed into the driver’s side of her Benz and drove us to that same ice cream shop.

By the tenth grade my dick jumped each time Auntie August licked her chocolate ice cream from that cone.

For my twentieth birthday, Auntie August threw me a party at her boyfriend’s nightclub. While my friends got drunk and high, she took me into one of the back offices, locked the door and sucked my dick until I felt like I was floating without taking one hit of all the coke flowing freely outside.

That was the official end of Auntie August.

“Take him out,” I said when she was close enough to lay her cheek on my thigh.

Her slim fingers hurried to undue the buckle of my belt, then the snap of my pants.

She’d gone to the nail shop earlier today, I knew because I had her location at all times.

Her nails were painted black, my favorite color.

I kept my gaze on the pretty sharp nails as she slid my zipper down then reached inside my boxers to free my semi-hard dick.

“Grab that shit, Angel.”

Her eyes shot up at me at the sound of the name I’d given her as I fucked her in the bed she shared with her drug-dealing boyfriend.

That was also the night of my twentieth birthday, after we’d left my party.

I shot my nut all over her face, ass and her boyfriend’s sheets that night.

The next morning, I told my Angel how she was going to help me kill him and take over his operation.

She did as I instructed, wrapping her hands around my dick, squeezing until that shit pulsed and grew at her touch.

I groaned at the way my blood heated and pulsed. “Harder.”

She jerked my dick harder, circling each hand in opposite directions at the same time. Pre-cum oozed from the tip.

“Can I have it, baby? Pleeeasse.” She moaned that last word, her eyes—even the one that was swollen and bruised—pleading with me to acquiesce.

“Lick.”

I watched her tongue snake out and circle the tip of my dick, taking the drops of cum into her mouth the way she’d been doing for so long. This was her drug of choice. My dick. My cum. Me.

My chest filled with that knowledge and expanded with pride.

Dropping my arms I grabbed the sides of her head, twisting my fingers into the long silky hair I knew was naturally hers. “Suck this shit,” I spat the words with every ounce of disgust I’d secretly felt since the first night at that club.

Her mouth was hot and wet, her throat deep as fuck as she pulled me in and gagged until her eyes watered.

Those damn eyes. I swear I’d been drowning in them since I was five fuckin’ years old.

I both loved and hated every time she set them on me.

This woman had been my addiction and my curse for far too long.

And just when I thought this unconventional connection we’d developed would serve a higher purpose, she managed to fuck that up too.

Lifting my hips I began fucking her mouth savagely.

Holding her head still while I fed her every inch of this dick in rapid succession.

She just dropped her hands to my thighs, gripping them tightly as she took the punishment, moaning like it was the best she ever had.

The unabashed love that sparkled in her tear-filled eyes as spit dripped from her mouth onto my dick, sent my anger through the roof.

Chest heaving, I dropped my hands from her head and yanked my dick out of her mouth with a loud pop. She fell back, bracing her palms on the floor behind her to stop the fall.

“Take them off!” I instructed and watched as she scrambled forward to untie the black Tom Ford’s I’d worn to the meeting.

Removing each shoe from my feet, she pushed my dress pants the rest of the way down and off my legs, without further instruction. When she reached for my dick again, I swatted her hand away. “Stand up,” I shot back.

She did and my mouth watered at the sight of her body.

Shit, she was sexy as fuck. Always had been.

From the pussy she knew I liked shaved, to the dark nipples of her heavy breasts, the curve of her hips and that juicy ass, this woman was perfection.

Her face card was elite, her mouth lethal.

She’d made a great life for herself in the public relations industry, had built a reputable empire and ran in the same circles as international dignitaries, politicians, corporate moguls, and kingpins, all while being the best slut in the game.

Grabbing her arm, I spun her around, then pushed on her back until she bent over the couch.

I smacked her ass, loving the immediate appearance of my handprint on her light skin.

She hissed and I smacked the other cheek.

For endless moments I got lost in that sound, in the sting of my hand on her ass, the melodious sound of her gasping with each whack.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” I asked and continued swatting her ass. Each stroke was harder than the last. Her ass was so red now, so warm with each contact.

Her hands gripped the pillows of the leather couch, and pussy juices streamed down her inner thighs. “What. Did. I. Tell. You!”

“Aaaaaah!” She screamed and my dick jumped. “You said to get him to the hotel.”

I smacked her ass again, squeezing the same cheek roughly when I was done. “A simple instruction.”

She cried out, thrashing her head from side to side. “He hates me now.” She panted. “He wants to kill me!”

“Because you don’t listen,” I gritted out. “I told you to leave his wife to me. But nooo, you just had to run up on her.”

And Dakota Donovan had quickly smacked August Deveraux right back down.

That shit had almost made me cum right there at the Diamond Lounge.

I’d been sitting in a booth at the back of the VIP section, sipping that expensive ass rum and watching Fury’s sexy ass wife talk to his bitch of a sister.

Maleeka was actually fine as hell, she just had a nasty attitude.

One I wouldn’t mind fucking out of her but only if I could muzzle that slut.

I’d been lost in the picture of fucking them both—Maleeka with my dick down her throat and Dakota with her thick ass thighs spread wide while I buried my face in her pussy—when August stepped into the VIP section.

She looked good, I’d give her that. The gold dress glittered against her skin.

It was so fuckin’ short her ass cheeks peeked at me the second she stood at the table in front of Dakota.

With both of them in my line of sight I squeezed my dick.

Maleeka, Dakota and August naked in my bed wasn’t a bad thought at all.

Then it hit me that this bitch was here tonight instead of where the fuck I told her to be.

When I paid those junkies to fuck up Fury’s car and had my guy mess with the video in the garage, it was the start of my endgame.

I knew he’d think August did it, especially after I had her ass pop up at his office.

She liked fuckin’ that bum ass muthafucka and I let her for all those years because I didn’t give a fuck whose dick she sucked. As long as she came when I called.

August was like every other bitch I’d known, out for herself and willing to do any and everything a man with money and power said to line her pockets.

I didn’t pay her that much—a designer bag here, a diamond necklace there, dropped a few thousand on her naked ass once I’d sprayed my nut all over it—all she really wanted was to be in my space.

I was her dark obsession. The boy she’d promised to take care of but wanted my dick even before I had my first wet dream.

I may get off on watchin’ the blood seep from whatever wound I inflicted on anybody who crossed me, but she was the real monster.

Her and every other woman that let a man strip them of their dignity and self-respect.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.