Richer Than God - Amelia Wilde Page 0,18

I only wanted to fuck a wet place, I’d take that virgin pussy. Suck, sweetheart.”

I’m doing my best.

I’m choking on it.

He’s stopped going easy on me, and it’s too late now. No going back to whatever that was before—a cruel gentleness. My throat tightens around him, trying to get him out. It doesn’t work. I want him to tell me I’m a good girl again, crave it, but I don’t understand why, and it’s so bad. It couldn’t get any worse. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. It’s only from the fact that I can’t breathe. That’s all it is. I’m not really going to cry.

“Can I help, Zeus?” That’s Savannah from behind me.

He leans back, tugging me with him. “Sure.”

Panic. Pure, bright panic. It blinds me. I grab for his pants. There’s not enough slack to hold so I claw at them to find purchase. What’s she going to do? Get on her knees next to me and suck him too? Fabric shifts in the space next to me—her dress—and then it’s my dress that’s moving. Lifting. A cool breeze on my ass.

And then—

A slap.

I whimper around his cock. I swear I can feel her handprint on my butt. It must be red.

Another slap.

This time, it’s a sob, full-throated and real, and Zeus groans. The hum goes all the way down to his tip. My pain is actually causing his pleasure.

Savannah doesn’t stop.

I’m only up on my knees because my hands are hooked in his pants, and I have never been so trapped in my life, never been so small as I am with a cock down my throat and a woman with vicious hands spanking my ass.

Again. Again. Again. She lands the blows so efficiently that the skin is incandescent with the pain, and I still can’t get away. No amount of wriggling dislodges Zeus’s cock from my mouth. Not with his hands in my hair like this, not with him holding me so still.

Tears stream freely down my cheeks, and at the next slap, I beg, wordless. Gagged. It does something to Zeus—all of him tenses—and then one hand leaves my hair and he pulls out.

I fall forward, a hand on my mouth, and it’s only out of the corner of my eye that I see what happens next.

He pulls Savannah’s face up, his fingers around her jaw so that it opens. And then he comes into her mouth.

It’s a lot.

It’s so much, and she takes it all, swallowing down and down and down with her eyes locked on his. She’s lit up with it. Worshipful. And at the very last moment, she glances over at me. I won.

Zeus’s hand squeezes the back of my hair, hard enough to make me cry out, and then I’m on my feet. He bends down and puts his mouth next to my ear, voice cutting through the rush. “Maybe next time, you’ll earn it.”

8

Brigit

Zeus is done, just like that.

He’s finished touching me. He’s stepping back. He’s zipping up his pants. And I’m still a mess on the floor, on my knees. Savannah stands up and brushes invisible lint off the front of her dress. It’s a pale blue halter dress that’s got a high neck and a low, low back. She must know how good she looks in it. She must also know how stupid I look in this uniform, on the floor.

I stand up too and swallow the knife’s edge of another sob. No more. A furious wipe at my eyes and I’m done.

Zeus brushes me aside—brushes the both of us aside—and pulls his chair back to his desk. Sits. Takes out his ledger. It’s astonishing how casual he looks. How beautiful. How sun-kissed. Like he didn’t just fuck my mouth in front of another woman. Even if he doesn’t care, which I’m sure he doesn’t, it should have some effect.

Or maybe that’s just me. That’s how naïve I am—was. Not anymore. Now I know.

So why the hell do I want to get back on my knees? Why does that seem like the better option in this room?

I deserve to be slapped for that.

“Take her to get waxed and cleaned up.” He sounds like he’s telling Savannah to bring him a coffee, and the dismissive tone of it gives me a shock of glee. “And dress her in something pretty. I want to have dinner with her tonight.” This Savannah, with hate in her eyes and sugar in her voice, takes my hand and leads me out