Page 52 of Scarred King
“Stop behaving like a silly little girl,” he said furiously, his anger flaring up. “You don’t understand how things work around here.”
“Then explain it to me.” I burst into tears, letting out all the frustration, stress and anxiety of the last few hours.
He comes next to me, and caresses my cheek gently. Beyond my tears, I see his worried expression.
“Don’t cry,” he says softly with his angelic face. “As long as you’re with me, you’re safe.” I sniff my nose and he turns back to the television screen. He picks up the phone attached to the wall. “Keep an eye out tonight,” he orders the person on the other end, waits for a reply and put back the phone. Now he is dialing on his cellphone. “Tommy, did Ralph update you?” There's silence, and then he speaks again, “Okay, add some security at the club.” Silence again and then he glances at me. “Yeah, she’s with me. We’ll sit down tomorrow and try to figure out how to fix this.” He ends the call and sits down on the long, black leather sofa.
“Will they leave in the morning?” I ask as I dry my tears, forcing myself to think clearly.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he sighs and kicks off his shoes.
“What did I get myself into?” I ask wearily.
He leans back in his seat and stretches out his legs. “What did I get myself into?” he looks at me with a small smile.
“I can't stop my head from thinking,” I hit myself on the forehead again and again. “I’ve got to get rid of all these terrible movies playing inside my head.”
He stands up, turns off the television screen, and returns to the sofa. “Let’s talk about something else,” he suggests gently, and his smile grows. I can’t comprehend how his mood can change so quickly all the time.
“I don’t feel like it,” I grumble. “I’m too tense.”
“Tell me how your date went with the crazy German,” he asks and puts his arms behind his head. “I know you did it to annoy me.” He doesn’t sound angry, just contemplative.
“He really is crazy. First of all, he came to pick me up at midnight. Who goes out so late?” He doesn’t respond and I stand up and start pacing in front of him. “And then, of all places he took me to a strip club.” I shake my head angrily. “And not only did I have to watch all those things bouncing around,” I wave my hands in the air, “he ended our date by punching that Giovanni in the face.”
“Let’s talk about that club a little.” He narrows his eyes at me and bites his bottom lip.
“Horrible!” I declare and continue my pacing. “Those girls dance around among all those perverted men, and then they sit on them and—”
“Show me how,” he requests hoarsely, staring at me intently.
“No,” I say awkwardly. “I can’t move like that. Besides…” I stop and hug myself, “it’s so sleazy.”
“Nothing about you could ever be sleazy,” he stretches out his legs and leans back comfortably. “We’re alone here.” He presses the remote control and soft music starts playing on the stereo. “Now come over here and show me.”
I look at him quietly. My head is spinning, but now he’s here in front of me and I remember the sensuous way the girls undressed and the effect it had on the men. A chill travels down my spine and my body heats up. Suddenly I can suppress my anger at him for trying to interfere in my life so crudely, and I yearn to feel his animalistic lust. The awkwardness I felt before, vanished.
“They weren’t dressed like me,” I smile naughtily. I turn my back on him, unzip my dress very slowly as I feel his cat eyes drilling into my bones. I take off my dress and turn around to face him. “Something like this,” I say as my hands skim over my black bra and panties, he takes a deep breath. “That’s it,” I giggle and bend down to pick up my dress.
He jumps off the sofa, pushes the table aside and drags me with him. He sits back down as I stand in front of him. “You’re not done,” he looks like he is on fire. “Show me how they danced.”
“I don’t remember,” I lie. Suddenly I feel embarrassed again.
“You? You remember everything!” He lays his head back against the back of the sofa and I close my eyes trying to get myself in the mood. I imagine that we’re in the club. We’re the only ones there. He’s sitting in an armchair and I’m standing in front of him. The sensual music does its magic and I turn my head slowly and smile.
“You have three minutes.” I raise three fingers and giggle. He bites his bottom lip and stares at me intently. I sit on his lap with my legs spread and I start moving my hips in circles, making a brief contact and then raising my hips. He puts his hands on either side of his body and doesn’t touch me. The feel of his rough jeans rubbing against me draws me into an erotic turbulence. I lower my hips again, this time harder, he lets out a short moan and places his hands on my ass, caressing it softly. His cock grows hard through the thick denim and I continue moving slowly and sensually, placing my hands behind my back on his thighs. I throw my head back and stretch my upper body. His hold on my ass tightens and he pulls me toward him each time my hips move upward. His hands move up to my waist and then all the way to the sides of my breasts. He caresses me through my bra, and I lean into him, our chests press together as I whisper in his ear, “You deserve another peek.” I undo my bra, throw it on the floor and sit up straight. My breasts are right in front of his eyes and as I rub against him again, he grabs them and presses his head between them. His nose skims against my skin and this time I moan. “You only have one minute left,” I whisper, and he catches my nipple in his teeth and nips it gently. I moan again and his lips clamp shut around it as he suckles hard. I can feel him harden between my legs and I start to pant. “Half a minute,” I mutter and stand up, unwillingly disconnecting myself from his burning body. I sit back down on his lap with my back to him, stretch my body forward and lean my hands on the sides of the table, raising and lowering my hips slowly onto his erection. He pulls himself forward and every time I lower my ass, he presses it to his groin.
“What have I gotten myself into…” he pants, as a finger slips inside my panties. I’m so wet that it slides inside me easily. I pull his hand away and stand up, flushed. “No hands inside the panties.” I wave my finger at him. "Anyway, your three minutes are up.” I re-pin my hair around my braid and look at him.
“Come back here,” he breathes in frustration, and I take a step back.
“You can order a private room, if you'd like,” I fake indifference, fighting my need to throw myself at him.
“Then I will.” He stands up and pulls me to him, lays me down on the sofa and lies down on top of me. “How much time do I have?” he asks with a sneaky smile, and I wrinkle my forehead and think.
“Mmmm, I don’t know. I forgot to ask.”
“Good,” he buries his head in my chest. “Then let’s agree that I won’t stop until you come.” He starts sucking my nipple hard, twisting above me as he removes his clothes. Suddenly he pushes himself up and looks at me in anguish. “I don’t have any condoms here.”