River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (6 page)

“Don’t worry, Tesoro. Making you cum is my pleasure,” he whispered as he stared into my eyes. Still seated deeply, he began to move. The sensation of him inside of me…filling me…overwhelmed and yet completed me in one thrust of his hips. His fingers gripped my hips—painfully, and I relished the pain, wanting more. However, I didn’t push my luck. He gave, and I graciously accepted his gift. “Say my name. And tell me who you belong to. Who
this
pussy belongs to.” He circled his hips, punctuating his words. This was what I craved—him between my legs, deep inside of me, his demanding mouth on my body. Endorphins swirled dizzily deep within me. He began to move at a blurring speed. His dirty mouth rested against my ear, spewing filth.

“You do, Sir. My pussy belongs to you. Only you.”

“That’s fucking right.” He pumped harder and my eyes rolled back. “Eyes on me, Tesoro,” he said gruffly. I hadn’t realized I’d closed them. Sweat began to bead above his brow, and the sounds we made together were downright primal, carnal. He then began to push into me, hard, forcefully, and steadily until my pussy began to milk his cock. “Oh, fuck. The way your pussy grips my cock… I will never get tired of feeling that.”

He reached down, bringing my leg up and over his shoulder for a better angle. He ground himself into a screaming orgasm. Instinctively, I reached out to him, needing to grab onto him, to anchor myself to him in some way. I began to free-fall and I didn’t doubt he’d catch me. His eyes met mine and something passed between them. I didn’t know what, though. He removed my hand, quickly kissing it.

“I’ll be right back. Need to clean you up.” He pulled out of me, still erect, leaving me empty and cold. Cum oozed from his cock as he backed away. I felt bereft that he pulled out of me so soon, leaving me insecure and emotional. I didn’t like it at all. However, not being a whiney clingy bitch, I decided to let it go. I decided think about it later, when I had time alone.

Yet the thought of time alone made me sad.

CHAPTER NINE

After three days, I knew I had to leave Stefan’s penthouse at River Walk and go home. My father would begin to worry and send out the search team. And I couldn’t risk anyone finding me with Stefan. Our families were not ready for that yet. Stefan’s dad flew straight home after the news of Zeke’s attack and Stefan’s proclamation of Matty’s debt paid in full. I had asked him numerous times how he could do that without having the money or my brother’s blood, but he refused to answer me. He told me business was business. And it angered me. After all I had been through, I was still treated as nothing more than a woman.

Stefan drove me back to the shore house so that I could wait for the car that would take me to my father. He leaned in for a kiss, but when I backed away, his eyes turned hard and cold.

Rejection stung like a bitch.

“I hate how you still see me as weak,” I proclaimed.

Stefan pulled away, acting as if I had slapped him across the face. “That’s not true.”

“Well, you don’t see me as an equal. You won’t even tell me what happened to my brother’s debt.”

“I told you it was taken care of. What more do you need to know?” His anger spilled out with every word, covering me with an iciness I wasn’t sure how to deal with.

“After what I did to save him—”

“It was the stupidest thing you could’ve done,” he said, interrupting me.

“Regardless, I was the only one willing to sacrifice anything. Not my father. Not my brother.
Me
! Stupid or not, I was the only brave one willing to put my own life on the line for someone I love.”

“That just proves that emotion drives women, and it leads them to make stupid decisions.”

“And if it were you? Would you rather I just sit back and make the ‘smart’ decision of doing nothing? If it came down to saving you…what would you want me to do?”

There…right there, in his eyes, I saw realization flash.

“Stupid or not, emotional or not…I did the only thing I could. Because I will not sit back and watch someone I love die. Even if it means I may die in the process. I will fight until my heart no longer beats in my chest.”

“I paid it off.”

My eyes opened wide in shock. “You? How?”

“I learned a long time ago to never depend on my father’s resources. I’ve been building my own empire. Smarter than his. And it will be bigger than his.”

I have never been more turned on in my life
.

“And when the time is right, Tesoro…we will rule that empire. And then
you
will be feared. Not the other way around. Men like Zeke will cower to you, by my side.”

They say the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss, the deeper the cut and the more difficult the process to become whole again. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of our suffering and make the bearer, all the more resolved, never to be wounded again. So as time moves along, we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression, give in to anger, and all the while, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger. Before we know it, the time passes. We are healed. Ready to begin anew. My family, my legacy, were the most important things.

However, I realize now, I have a new weakness...

It’s called love.

THE END

SPANKED!

CHAPTER one

I’m just out of school, and I’m already feeling the pressures of the real world bearing down on me. Nearly fifty thousand dollars of reality piling up, taunting me. I need to make some serious cash and fast. My job at the diner just won’t cut it. I barely make enough to survive, let alone set any funds aside for the future of debt I have smacking me in the face. And with the economy circling the drain, I’ve had little prospects on the career front. Funny, considering I received a degree in economics. Go figure. Plus, I can’t afford to take on any more hours with my hectic schedule. Between work at the diner, looking for another job, and taking care of my mother, I don’t have much time or energy for anything else.

“Where are you going so damn early?” Lee, my roommate and best friend, asks as I run about our apartment, scrambling to get ready.

I’m surprised to see her up this early. She usually doesn’t wake before ten since she bartends at night. She looks like a cute mess, her exotic eyes heavy with sleep. Her black hair with electric blue tips carelessly thrown into a sloppy bun atop her head. She’s even wearing her ratty bunny slippers. With a Chinese father and an English mother, her mixed beauty has always attracted the affections of every guy she meets.

“I told you yesterday. I have an appointment with some doctor.”

“Are the herps flaring up again?” she teases.

I halt and peer at her, fighting back a chuckle.

“You have a real twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

“Eh.” She shrugs, inhaling a mouthful of her cereal.

Childishly, I stick my tongue out at her and she returns the gesture.

“And, FYI. It’s an interview.”

“For a job?”

“A study.” I snag my purse and toss it over my shoulder. “But it pays some serious dough.”

“Nice. We can go on a shopping spree.”

“Oh, sure.” I roll my eyes at her. “Would you like a new car while I’m at it?”

“Yes, preferably in red.”

“I’ll get right on that,” I retort.

Walking into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee and grab an egg bagel, I run my fingers through my hair.

“I can’t believe I let you cut off all my hair.”

During a recent girls’ night, I let Lee chop off most of it. Once long and blonde, it’s now short, the bangs are longer, sweeping over one of my eyes. It’s kind of fresh and hip, but I still haven’t gotten used to the drastic change.

“It looks fucking tight. Trust me, I would not do you wrong. You look smokin’.”

“Smokin’?” I would never categorize myself like that, cute, intelligent, nice, occasionally smart-alecky, but never smokin’. I shake my head and laugh at the idea.

“I’ll see you later,” I comment, heading for the door. “Love you!”

“Love you!” she calls out as it shuts behind me.

Ten minutes later, I’m heading across the oddly empty campus to the University of Texas School of Medicine, which I live only a few minutes from. I’d heard through the grapevine the university was conducting a study on pain inhibitors and their effects on the nervous system when external pain is presented. It’s funded by a multi-national pharmaceutical company called Neuro-Pharm.

Due to the extremity of the study, it pays really well. Enough to eat a huge chunk out of the debt keeping me up at night. That and finals, which are stressful all on their own. They don’t need any help.

I take a big swig of coffee hoping to wake up before my early interview with the doctor leading the research. Not smart. I burn my tongue.

“Ah! Shit!”

I hiss, attempting to cool my now burnt tongue. It feels like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth.

If it weren’t for the fact that seven a.m. is the only time he would see me, I’d be sleeping in on my only day off in a month, tongue unscathed. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but sleep is a rarity for me these days, and I’m in desperate need of it. Luckily, I was a last minute pick, as one of the subjects suddenly bailed out. That’s how I found out about it. She’s a regular patron at the diner. I had told her about my money woes, and she handed me the advertisement, explaining that circumstances prevented her from participating. Right after work, I called the number at the bottom and made an appointment with the doctor’s assistant. She informed me everything would be further explained during the interview.

So, here we are now.

I walk into the medical school building, suddenly nervous about what this study will entail. I’ve never been one to fear pain. Actually, in some ways, it intrigues me.

I find the door marked with the name Dr. Oliver Landon painted in gold on the frosted glass, and take a steadying breath before stepping inside a small waiting room. The black door on the other side is cracked open, but not enough that I can see whoever’s behind it.

“Please have a seat, Miss Petrov,” a low voice says from behind the slightly intimidating door. “I will be right with you.”

He’s British.

I sit and take the time to picture the face that belongs to the voice. I envision an older gentleman with hair dusted in silver and soft creases about his wise eyes. The thought eases me a bit.

After a few minutes, he calls for me, “Come in, Miss Petrov.”

I rise and walk over to the dark door, brushing my fingers through the bangs of my blonde, newly chopped hair. I inhale, smile big, and ease open the door, stepping inside. My stride halts when my eyes catch his, freezing on them with shocked fascination. They are the bluest of blues. I can’t tell from behind his black, rectangular specs, but I doubt the man before me has a single wrinkle. His blackish-brown hair, side-parted and slick, doesn’t have even a strand of gray.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He just stares back at me, keeping my gaze on him.

“Are you Mila Petrov?” he finally speaks, his tongue gently stroking my name.

“Yes,” I whisper then clear my throat. “But, Mila is fine.”

“During the course of this interview, and if you decide to continue further with the study, I would like to keep a professionalism, Miss Petrov. This is extremely important research and must be conducted in a fitting manner.”

He’s very composed, cold even.

“Yes, Dr. Landon.”

He rises from behind his desk, giving me a chance to get a good look. His light blue dress shirt enhances his already vibrant eyes, and the black slacks he’s wearing appear to be ironed to perfection. This guy is anal, which also tells me he’s a stickler for detail.

Holy hell. He’s going to be a pain in my ass.

CHAPTER two

He takes me into a small examination room with a bench covered in white paper, bright florescent lights, and glass jars filled with medical instruments.

My stomach turns.

The paper cracks and crinkles under my ass as I fidget anxiously. I’m irrationally nervous. I don’t know why, it’s just a simple examination, but I am. Maybe it’s him.

Dr. Landon must notice because he glimpses up at me sympathetically.

“There’s no need to panic, Miss Petrov.” He looks back down at his chart and mumbles, “Yet.”

It’s so low I almost miss it.

I sum up a little courage and ask, “What does this experiment involve exactly?”

He jots something down in the file, avoiding eye contact with me. “I will explain everything once we’ve finished here. I would like to determine whether or not you are a
desirable
candidate first.”

Why did he say it like that?
What does that even mean?
I’m here, aren’t I? I don’t see any others clambering for the opportunity to be a human guinea pig. Perhaps that should tell me something.

“Now, Miss Petrov, are you allergic to anything, drugs, food, latex, or otherwise?”

“No, Sir,” His eyes flash up at mine, but retreat quickly back the paper in front of him, “not that I’m aware of.”

“Brilliant.” He writes something down, then continues, “Are you currently taking any medications?”

I shake my head, but he doesn’t see me, lifting his face with a searching look. “No, none at all.”

“Excellent.”

“Well, actually,” I hesitate telling him, even though I know he’s a doctor and obviously dedicated to his work.

“Yes?” he inquires, his brows raised.

“I take bir-birth control.”

His lips twitch into what almost looks like a smile. But it couldn’t be. That wouldn’t be proper conduct.

He goes through a few more of the standard questions, marking things off as he goes. He’s very diligent in his task, leaving no stone unturned.

“Last question,” he says. “Is there anything in your medical history you feel would hinder your participation in the study?”

“No, Dr. Landon. I have been blessed with good health. I’ve never had a stitch or broken a single bone.”