Phoenix Rising Issue #3 - S. R. Watson Page 0,19
motives for even giving her a minute of my time.
“I never said I was blackmailing you.”
“You demanded to see me—to be let on this fucking tour, or you’d go to the press about what you knew. You leaked sensitive information about my father, for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah, and I told you I just needed to get your attention. You were eager to let me go after I showed up at your concert and stayed a couple of days. Eager to get back to your secret fling with Harlow. Yes, I knew about that too. The daggers she aimed at me anytime I got near you were a dead giveaway.”
“So you thought giving me an ultimatum would win me over? You’re only here until I can decide how you’re going to make this right.”
“I was desperate, Phoenix. I didn’t know how else to make you give me a chance. I know I fucked up.”
“You fucked my brother. You were his submissive. Why didn’t you just try to get back with him since it doesn’t matter which one of our cocks you ride?”
Her head snaps back as if I’ve slapped her. “That’s unfair. I hooked up with Sevyn long after you had left. I was missing you terribly and thought I could get over you by submitting to him. It was a mistake. There has only ever been you for me. Can’t you see the truth right in front of you?”
“What the hell is that?”
She drops to her knees and bows her head. Any other time, my will would have been tested. Instead, her proposed submission angers me. It’s a joke. How can I take her seriously?
“I’m desperate for you,” she admits, head still down. “I may have fucked up in every way imaginable, but you’re the common denominator. You’ve always been the goal. I don’t know how to live without you. I’m not proud of my actions, but please know it’s all been for love.”
“That sounds like some psychotic psychobabble. How you’ve acted is not how you treat someone you love. Get up.”
She doesn’t move. The sniffles begin softly and then get uncontrollably louder. A part of my heart aches simply because I can’t stand to see a woman cry, especially if I’m the cause. Somewhere in her twisted mind, I believe she believes the reason she’s giving me. It may even be partly true. But I’ve also discovered a piece to this fucked-up puzzle that I haven’t shared with anyone. A sizeable piece that indicates there is more than what she’s sharing. Another motive for the blackmail, and I intend to keep her close until I unravel the rest.
“Get up,” I instruct more sternly—a voice she recognizes. She responds to my dominance obediently. “Get the fuck dressed. As long as you’re here, we’ll do this on my terms. Whatever this is. Don’t make me regret my decision to have you on this tour.”
She nods her understanding before pulling her suitcase to the farthest corner away from me. I head to the shower to finish my intended task. I run the shower, letting the water get numbingly hot—the way Harlow has always liked it. Stepping in, I already have my dick in hand. Visuals of Harlow in that tease of a sundress flood my mind. I fantasize about what I would have rather done instead of leaving her sitting on the porch. What it would have been like to lean her back on the steps and wrap her legs around my neck. I tighten my grip on my dick as I imagine my tongue lapping at her sweetness. I thrust hard into my hand as thoughts of spearing her tight pussy with my tongue get her ready for me—ready to take the girth of my cock.
I place a hand against the travertine as I race toward my orgasm. I mentally flip her over to doggy style against the steps as I enter her slickness from behind. Her tight cunt clenches my cock with each stroke. Her tits bounce as I slam into her. I come so damn hard with Harlow’s name barely a whisper on my lips. I can only stand under the hot stream as aftershocks wrack my body. My tip weeps with the need for her actual pussy. I don’t want to give in to Melissa, Harlow being the lesser of the two mistakes. My heart is not invested in Melissa. For now, I will give all my nuts to my hand. I just hope I’m able to stave off