good?” I ask, gripping her hip firm enough to mark. She’s got a nice rack, super flat stomach, and an ass with plenty of bounce, but she’s like every other whore in this compound. There’s nothing unique about her. Not even her scent is one-of-a-kind.
The whore whose name I’ll forget within a second of coming scrapes her teeth over her lower lip before she nods. We’ve got an audience. She doesn’t care. Hell, she looks hopeful one of my brothers will come over and join us like they did last night.
They won’t.
Not if they know what’s good for them.
I’m all for fucking, have been since I was sixteen, however, this shit doesn’t fly with me.
If I want to fuck you, you’ll be the first to know. If I don’t, you sure as fuck don’t get to take yourself for a ride on my cock and expect me to be okay with it.
The whore releases her lip with a moan before she drops her eyes to mine. They’re icy and blue and have my veins cooling even more than her clit grinding against the stainless steel bar in my pubis. She’s being super greedy today, acting as if the six studs pierced in my shaft aren’t enough to get her off, and don’t get me started on my length and girth, or my mood will grow even more pissy. If she hadn’t been run through the mill last night, my cock would be wearing as much blood now as the smears I washed off in the shower after stealing India’s virginity. Guaranteed.
“It feels so good, baby.”
“Is that right?” When she nods for the second time, her moans doubling in appreciation of the British accent I’ve yet to get rid of even being surrounded by Russians twenty-four-seven for the past three years, I twist my lips. “I think this would feel better.”
Since she’s as thin as a rake, I lift her off my cock without so much of a strain to my pinkie. When I stand to my feet to bend her over the couch in the middle of the compound teeming with ruthless men and half-dressed whores, she perches her ass high in the air, praying I’m about to stretch her puckered hole as well as my cock did her pussy.
I’m tempted, but I am also frustrated, so her begging ass will have to wait.
“Open wide. If you graze me with your teeth, my hand will get friendly with your cheek.” It dawns on me that my threat would be better suited for another whore when she shudders at the prospect of being hit. There are a handful of girls at Clarks who like being slapped around. I usually steer clear of them. Wife-beating isn’t my kink.
Her moan when I ram my cock to the back of her throat pulls my balls in close to my body. Even in my pissy mood, I can admit her tongue dragging over the curved barbell piercings in my shaft feels good.
Her dedicated attention to my cock deviates my plans for a few minutes. Not long enough for me to forget my purpose, but long enough I forget there are the eyes of over two dozen men on me and my cock.
Fortunately for all involved, I don’t get stage fright.
After another handful of minutes, I remove my cock from the whore’s mouth, give it two good pumps, then watch cum squirt out of my crown. It lands on her lips, cheek, and covers a good portion of her right eye.
“Nuh-uh,” I growl out on a moan when her tongue attempts to lick up the droplets of spawn coating her lips. Her tongue will never reach the murky white substance on her cheek and eye, but when I teach a whore a lesson, I do it the right way. “You want to be a whore, so I’m gonna treat you like one.”
Careful not to trip on my jeans huddled around my ankles, I take a step back before yanking the rigid material up my tattooed thighs. Once I have my still-throbbing cock tucked away, I nudge my head to the parking lot at the back of Clarks. “It’s late, so you better get home before your daddy gets worried about you.”
Although shocked at my dismissal, especially since its barely noon, the blonde dips her chin before her hands dart up to clear away the mess on her face. “Nuh-uh,” I repeat, louder this time. “You’re a whore, remember? It’s about time your daddy learns of your