Married to the kingpin

CHAPTER TWO

I shut the apartment door behind me with a soft, exhausted click, then leaned my back against it, as if the thin plywood could barricade out the chaos of the last twenty four hours. My thighs trembled uncontrollably, muscles quivering with every small shift of weight. Each step from the bus stop had been a torturous reminder of him, how impossibly deep he’d buried himself inside me, how roughly he’d taken me into my body felt reshaped around the memory of his c**k. The tender ache between my legs pulsed steadily now, a secret bruise that sent fresh heat flooding my core whenever I clenched involuntarily.

Ice wrapped himself around my ankles, his thick tail brushing my calves as he purred like a small engine. I scooped his heaven warmth into my arms, burying my face in the luxurious softness of his Maine Coon fur. He smelled of home, clean litter and faint cedar from his scratching post. My mom’s gentle snores drifted from the living room; the pain meds had finally pulled her under. “Thank God,” I sighed. I couldn’t bear for her to see my like this with my swollen lips and disheveled hair and my skin still carrying the unmistakable musk of a stranger’s sweat and s*x.

I stumbled into my cramped bedroom and collapsed onto the bed fully dressed, the short server skirt riding high on my thighs. Cool air kisses the damp lace between my legs. Without conscious thought, my fingers slipped beneath the hen, tracing the soaked fabric of my pantis. I was drenched, shamelessly and achingly wet. My c**t throbbed under the lightest touch, swollen and hypersensitive.

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the memory, his large hands had pins both my wrists above my head in one strong grip while the other ripped my panties aside like they were tissue paper. The blunt thick head of his c**k nudged my entrance, dripping hot and slick with pre-c*m. I remembered gasping, my hips instinctively tilting to take him, but he gave no mercy. One savage thrust and he was buried to the hilt, stretching my p***y until they burned and fluttered around his thick c**k. Pain flared bright and sharp, twisting instantly, into a dark molten pleasure that bowed my spine off the silk sheets.

He f****d me like he owned me, punishment and reward mixed together. The long, deliberate strokes dragged the ridged underside of his c**k over every hidden nerve cluster inside me, forcing broken moans from my throat. Then he switched to short, grinding snaps of his hips, pubic bone crushing my c**t until sparks exploded behind my eyelids. I clawed desperately at his broad back, his nails carving red trails through my sweat slick skin. I bit down on the hard muscle of his shoulder to muffle my screams. He growled against my ear, with his gravel voice. “Scream all you want, baby. No one will hear you.” Then he drove harder, deeper and sweat dripping from his stubbles jaw to land hot on my heavy breasts.

When he flipped me onto my stomach, I whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He hauled my hips up roughly, my knees sanded into the mattress, my ass was exposed and vulnerable. Cool air teased my dripping folds before his palms spread me wide open, his thumbs parted my cheeks, with his fingers dipping into my soft flesh. I felt his gaze like a physical touch, burning over my dripping p***y and the tiny virgin rosebud above it. He didn’t tease for long, his thick c**k head breached me again, and he slammed me again in one brutal stroke, his balls slapping Welty against my c**t.

The new angle was devastating, every thrust punched a raw cry from my lungs; the heavy slap of his hips against my ass echoed obscenely in the moonlit room. His fingers bruised my hips as he yanked me back to meet each painful drive, forcing me to take every inch until I felt him in my throat. One hand snaked around to pinch and roll my c**t without mercy while the other tangled in my hair, arching my neck back so he could bite the sensitive spot below my ear.

I felt the first orgasm ripped through me like lightening, my inner walls spasming violently around his throbbing c**k. My scream muffled into the pillow as wave of blinding pleasure drowned me, juices flooded down my thighs. He snarled my name…no, he didn’t know my name, his hip stuttered as he buried himself impossibly deep inside me. I felt every pulse as he came, thick, scorching ropes of c*m flooding my womb, marking me inside with heat that seemed to brand itself into my core.

Back in my bedroom, my fingers circled my c**t frantically, I slipped two inside my still tender p***y to mimic his brutal rhythm. I came hard hard, biting my lip until copper bloomed on my tongue, thighs clamping around my hand as the orgasm rolled through me in brutal surges. But it was hollow, nothing like the devastating fullness of him.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed harshly on the nightstand and I jolted back to reality. I it up to see Aiden’s message: Big Lingerie Shoot Downtown Tomorrow. Client Paying Triple. You in ?

I wiped my slick fingers on the ruined skirt. I went about my day and later got ready for my volunteer job at the hospital.

The next day came, and I headed to the studio for the shoot. The smelled of hot lights and chemical hairspray, the white seamless paper gleaming under blinding strobes. The lingerie was black lace, delicate straps and sheer panels that concealed almost nothing. Every pose felt like deja vu; arching my back, parting my lips, eyes heavy lidded. Exactly how he’d looked at me in the dark.

Between setups, the prickling sensation returned, all eyes was on me, predatory and real. Not the camera’s mechanical stare. I stare sc at the one way mirror behind the crew. Nothing visible, yet the hairs on my nape rose. Someone was watching me.

When we wrapped, I dressed in record time and bolted. Across the street, a black SUV with tinted windows idled at the curb. As I started walking, the engine started once, it felt like a threatening growl. I quickened my pace; it crawled forward, matching my speed. By the bus stop my heart hammered so loudly I could barely hear the approaching rumble.

Ronnie was already sprawled on our sagging couch when I got home, her shoes had been kicked off, and she had cartons of Chinese takeout spread across the coffee table like a feast, grease and soy sauce scented in the air. “You look like absolute hell,babe,” she said, handing me a chopstick.

“Thanks.” I collapsed beside her, Ice immediately climbed my lap, kneading biscuits into my thigh with contented purrs. She studied me over her carton. “Spill.” I shook my head, I wasn’t going to talk about him, never about him.

We ate in silence until a car screeched down the block, a sharp crack splitting the night like gunfire. My fork clattered to the table, my vision blurred then Suddenly I’m in that warehouse again I saw blood on the concrete, Dad’s pleading eyes, the gunshots and air vanished from my lungs.

Ronnie’s arms wrapped around me instantly. “Jane. Look at me, you’re here, you’re safe, breathe with me.” I cling to her until the sling subsided, with my tears soaking her shirt. When I pulled back, the crawling sensation of being watched had intensified, like fingers trailing down my spine.

My phone lit up and I saw a text from a number I’d deleted months ago. Ethan: Saw your shoot today. Still the most beautiful thing in Vegas. Dinner tonight? My treat.

Bile rose in my throat. Ethan Ross, old Italian money, private jets, a smile that could charm or cut depending on his mood. I was twenty-two and stupidly in love with him. He showered me with gifts and whispered promises, until I learned exclusivity was “ for wives,” and diner girls were just temporary entertainment. I blocked him everywhere and denied him access to me since then and this time I blocked his number,again.

Across town, in a glass walled penthouse forty floors above the glittering strip, he sat at his luxury desk, his shirt unbuttoned, fresh red scratches still livid across his sculpted chest. The city lights reflected in his dark eyes as he swirled the aged scotch in a crystal tumbler. He hadn’t stopped replaying her and the moment they shared. The way she’d tasted sweet and desperate like a forbidden fruit. How impossibly tight she’d been, her virgin body yielding and clenching around him as she came apart. He could still feel her nails, her moans, hear the broken sounds she made when he flooded her.

Robb, his assistant knocked once and entered with a tablet in his hand. “Security footage from last night, sir.” The screen showed her slipping from the guest wing at dawn, her golden hair was disheveled, her uniform was wrinkled and stained. Something dark and possessive coiled low in his gut.

“Find her,” he ordered quietly, his voice like lethal silk. “I want her name, address, contact, everything.” Robb inclined his head. “Already running facial recognition and cross-checking all staff lists.”

Evening bled into night. I sat cross-legged on the floor sketching dress designs while Mom dozed, Ice curled against my side, when the doorbell rang, it was sharp and insistent. Allison stood on the cracked porch, she raised her phone towards me like a weapon, her smile was venomous enough to curdle blood.

“Vegas’s newest w***e,” she said loudly, ensuring the neighbours heard every word. “Did you charge by the hour, or was it a freebie for better tips?” Ice hissed from behind my legs, with his back arched.

“Get off my property.” I said, dazed and confused. She shoved her screen in my face. “Everyone’s seen it, Jane. Running out of a billionaire’s bedroom like a guilty hooker at sunrise. Real classy bitch.”

The grainy video looped: It was me fleeing the mansion with my wild hair, torn clothes, intercut with today’s lingerie photos. The caption reads. MYSTERY HELP RUNS FROM SECRET NIGHTSTAND WITH VEGAS TYCOON.

The comments flooded in; slut, gold-digger, desperate trash. I slammed the door so hard the frame rattled. My phone buzzed immediately, it was Ronnie. “Check your messages. NOW.”

Social media was a nightmare. The video had gone viral in just few hours with hundreds of thousands of views, and it has been shared across all platforms. My face, my body, my humiliation on endless repeat and then it dawned on me that the lingerie shoot was for this purpose.

I sank into the couch, my phone slipped from my numb fingers, my mom was now wide awake, she couldn’t stand up but she looked at me with tears and confusion in her eyes, Ice pressed hard against my side, purring fiercely as if to shield me.

Then my phone chimed again I picked it out to check but this time I got a message from an unknown number.

A single photo loaded slowly. It was me asleep in tangled white sheets, my breasts barely covered by the slipping fabric, vivid marks blooming on my throat and collarbone. His strong, veined forearm with expensive watch glinting was draped possessively across my waist, his fingers splayed over my lower belly like a brand.

Below the image, I read three chilling words: SEE YOU SOON