Page 59 of Brutal

“There won’t be a next time!” I bellow at her, squeezing her arms more tightly. “Fuck!” I shove her back, releasing her, then go to the sofa with harsh, angry steps. “Come here.” I point at the floor in front of me. “Take me out. Get me hard.”

Mimosa kneels easily, placing her hands on my thighs and looking up at me like she actually wants to be there. She unzips me and slowly pulls my cock out, which normally would have been hard by now.

Mimosa strokes me gently and blows softly over the sensitive skin. “What will you do for fun now? Since parties are out.”

I stare down at her, and for a moment, I’m at a loss — and it’s not because of her mouth near my cock. “I keep thinking about buying jet skis,” I say. “Maybe flying to Paris. I hear it’s great this time of year.”

I really have no clue if Paris is great this time of year, but getting away suddenly sounds really appealing.

“Can you afford to take that much time off work?” Mimosa asks. She follows that up by licking along the length of my shaft, and I buck forward involuntarily.

“I still…” I grunt. “I still have a week of vacation left.” And I need to do something with it. I can’t just sit around at home and do nothing. As much fun as it is to play with Mimosa, I can already feel the impatience of having nothing new to do settling in.

Mimosa nods, going back to expertly stroking my cock. Because she is an expert, I guess. She used to do this to hundreds of men.

That thought should have been hot.

It isn’t.

I start to get hard anyway, and as soon as I’m remotely erect, I tell her, “Take off your panties. Climb on and ride me.” I wish I was more excited about fucking her.

Maybe it’s her.

Maybe I’ve just gotten bored of her.

I don’t think that’s it, though. It feels like she’s gotten in my head.

She stands, the dress riding up as she does, and removes the panties. She drops them on the couch next to me before straddling my hips.

“Do you want me to say something nice?” she asks as she lines herself up.

“It would be a lie,” I say darkly. “So why the fuck would you bother?”

I stare at her face, and for a moment, I wish there was something nice she could say, something to make me feel better that wasn’t a sycophantic lie.

I wish she liked me.

Isn’t that a fucking joke?

“I thought it was funny that you didn’t pretend to know Felicia Fenway,” she says with a slight smile. “That’s true.”

“Yeah?” My heart is racing, and it’s in this moment that I realize I am well and truly fucked — because I like the smile on her lips. I want to see it as much as I want to see her cry. “It was fucking hilarious seeing her reaction.”

“I don’t think we should make a habit of being cruel,” Mimosa says, sinking down onto my cock. “But she was a bit of a bitch to me first.”

I groan at the feeling of the tight grip of her cunt around my cock, closing my eyes for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I’m usually friendlier to them. Especially the women. I—” I cut myself off, grabbing her hair and urging her closer so I can kiss her instead of saying that I’m really, truly fucking confused.

She rides me easily, clenching around my cock as we kiss. When she gasps, I drive my tongue into her mouth and pull her closer.

Why isn’t she upset? Why is she acting so fucking nice, even though I was about to whore her out to a bunch of men?

I play with her nipples, making her moan and squeeze tighter.

It’s enough to distract me just a little, and I fuck into her harder, faster, as I keep her held there in front of me.

But as I get closer to coming, that insidious little whisper starts up in the back of my mind, reminding me that I’m not acting like myself… and it’s all Mimosa’s fault.

I reach between us and press my fingers against her clit. She gasps again, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure.