Page 18 of Brutal

Despite being completely nude, she doesn’t act embarrassed or ashamed.

I remember Hunter’s girl being in tears when she had to perform for us. Chase’s girl fought and argued the entire night.

Mimosa is just quiet, and something about that pisses me off.

“What? Nothing to say now?” I taunt her, trying to get a reaction out of her. “You were big and bad before. Say something. You know you want to.”

“How can I serve you, Master?” she asks steadily.

There’s nothing sarcastic about her tone. It sounds like a genuine question—but I know better.

I stare at her, trying to find something in her expression that’s an excuse to smack the shit out of her. Then again, I don’t need a reason. Still…

“Get down on your knees and give me a blowjob,” I tell her. “Since I can’t fuck your diseased cunt yet.” It’s tempting to ignore Hunter about that, though. Pavone had mostly insisted that the men wear condoms, and he wouldn’t have wanted his girls passing on diseases.

Mimosa walks closer to me without a single faltering step, then gets to her knees. She reaches for my belt, undoing it with practiced ease.

I should be pleased about this, so why does it just piss me off more?

Fuck, the drugs should be suppressing all of this anger, but it just seems to be amping it up. A blowjob will do it, though. An orgasm on top of all of that will calm me down, then I can enjoy the rest of the evening.

“Hurry up,” I say.

Mimosa unzips my slacks and gets my cock out, giving it a hard stroke immediately. Then she leans in and wraps her lips around the head of my cock without any fanfare at all. She sucks and strokes at a fast pace, exactly like I told her to.

Why does it irritate me when I’m getting exactly what I want?

I grab her by her orange hair, gripping it tight. I wait for her to relax her jaw a little, and she takes the hint. I pull her completely off, telling her, “Just hold your whore mouth open.”

She swallows once, then opens her mouth wider. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s no anger or fear in there.

But there might be pity.

I hate it.

In this moment, I hate her too.

I shove my cock into her mouth, ignoring the way her teeth slightly graze the underside until she gets her bearings and opens up even wider. I should punish her for it, but getting face-fucked is going to be punishment enough.

I think.

Fuck, I want to beat her senseless and fuck her and come all over her body?—

I rein myself in, though, because the last thing I need is to accidentally kill her. It’s a sobering thought, just how easily my anger could overtake me, but it doesn’t kill my erection. I grab her tighter and push deeper until the head of my cock is at the back of her throat.

At least that gets a physical reaction out of her. She chokes, and her eyes squeeze shut as she fights to breathe. Her face flushes red, and tears leak out of the corners of her eyes.

I want to choke her with my cock. I like that she can’t breathe, that she’s not fighting me on this even though this has to be torture for her.

Good.

I slowly shove my way in until I’m completely buried inside her throat, my balls brushing her chin as I bottom out.

Her eyes widen in desperation, and she makes a noise that zings through my cock, sending pleasure rushing up my spine. She tries to pull back and even has the gall to push against my thighs.

It feels good.

I feel powerful.