Page 19 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

But she’s bad at hiding things. Bad at hiding her scorn, at hiding her pleasure. Her building orgasm.

“You can’t hide from me, baby. I’m inside your house. I know everything.”

“Buzz off,” she manages through the waves of an orgasm that I happen to know is raging through her, judging from the way her hot, wet cunt is milking my cock.

A whore who tries to hide that she’s coming and says buzz off. She’s fucking priceless—she really is.

I grab her hair while she’s still coming. “Look at me.”

She doesn’t have the wherewithal to disobey—that’s how hard she’s still coming, lips parted, cheeks pink except for those pale freckles.

The attitude is gone. I fucked it out of her—for a moment, at least.

Eventually, she comes to her senses and snaps back to scorn-girl mode, full-on glaring at me.

Who looks at me like that? All that harsh, aggressive energy. My cock feels dangerously hard.

This whole thing she’s got going gets me off in a way I didn’t think was possible anymore, and I’m fucking her savagely now, coming like a motherfucker. “Jesus.”

She clutches my arms as I explode into her. It’s a full-soul, time-space-continuum-in-flames orgasm.

“Fuck,” I pant.

I hover over her, and for one bizarre moment, I have a sense that we’re sharing the same strange frequency. There’s a feedback loop of the big bad getting off on the prim, scornful miss and the prim, scornful miss getting off on the big bad.

It’s too much... something.

I pull out and roll over, but it takes a while for me to get myself back.

“Fuck,” I say again.

Some time passes—I have no idea how much.

I rouse myself enough to sit on the edge of the bed. My brain feels like a tossed room, all the clothing and papers pulled out of the drawers.

I always know what I’m doing, always in control. One disorganized fuck isn’t going to change that.

I focus on the view out the window, the sea of buildings and city lights. I said I wanted to get her out of my system. Well, this ought to have done it.

And I figured out what I had to figure out down there.

And now I’m getting myself back together.

I head into the bathroom and get rid of the condom.

I splash water on my face.

What kind of place does she live in? Is it a hotel? Is she really on her way to Vegas? That’s what they told me.

“And that matters why?” I drag my hand down my face, rough with whiskers.

Her cherry scent is still in my nostrils. Is it from more than her lip stuff? Body lotion? Perfume? I imagine her putting it on. Did she put it on for Dardan?

God, will she go back and find him now? Some other guy?

Something coils in my chest. I imagine keeping her all formyself. A hundred percent mine. I would unravel her secrets and bathe in her scorn.

I splash more water on my face.

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