Derek’s tongue circled her asshole as champagne cascaded down Mara’s spine. The alcohol tingled the marks on her ass, but that only added to her pleasure. She cried out as his tongue plunged briefly before sliding across her rim. Champagne tingled along her spine and into his mouth, running down her legs into the floor.
He was going to have to pay a hotel fee, but that was his problem. She didn’t care about anything. Derek was on his knees eating her ass with champagne. He could do whatever he liked—spank her, fuck her with the bottle, get a fresh one and start over. Anything.
She’d lost her ability to care the second he’d knelt behind her. He dragged his tongue to her cunt, lapping softly. “That’s it, baby. Daddy missed you.”
Moaning, she teetered on her heels. Reaching out, she steadied herself on the windowpane leaving greasy finger marks in her wake. More clues for the cleaning team, she supposed. There was a dull thunk as the bottle hit the carpet. Derek gripped her hips, pushing her ass back onto his face. Time wavered as he licked and lapped and stroked. She wasn’t going to come but she was never far from it, hovering in a twilight world of pleasure with her ass in her ex-boyfriend’s face.
His mouth dipped again, sucking the diamond between her legs. She pressed her palms to the window, holding steady for dear life. “Derek! I’m going to…”
He didn’t stop. His tongue rasped over her cunt, and Mara felt herself lift up and over the ceiling. Her whole world narrowed to the point between her legs, and she screamed his name as she came. That was okay though. Because she hadn’t said ‘Daddy.’ That was what mattered.
A hundred years later, Derek pulled his mouth from her pussy. “You gonna be a good girl?”
She mumbled something that was incomprehensible even to her own ears.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He lifted her like a doll and carried her to another room. There, a chair had been placed in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror. “Couldn’t we have just stayed in front of the window?”
Derek didn’t reply. He lowered her to the carpet, and she collapsed into a girl-puddle. He sat, and she heard the low whir of a zipper. Her mouth flooded with saliva.
“Come here.”
She struggled to her knees as Derek pumped his thick cock, the broad tip dark with blood. God, how had it ever fit in her ass? He gave himself a slow pull. “Mouth.”
She bent toward him, parting her lips.
You’ve already done this. Stop being so nervous.
But everything in the Sofitel was a blur. This was slow and sticky with champagne and memories. Her heart pounded as she lowered her lips to Derek’s cock. He was so big, what if she couldn’t do a good job? What if he went too deep and she choked? She fastened her lips around him and drew, soft and slow.
“Deeper.”
She obeyed, drawing him in. Pre-come welled on her tongue and she smiled as she licked his shaft. He was close.
As though sensing her confidence, Derek pulled her hair. “Spread your legs. I want to see you.”
For a second, she was confused, then she remembered the mirror. She parted her legs, pulling aside the bodysuit so he could see her. Derek sucked air through his teeth. “Fucking hell.”
A few seconds and he’d be inside her. There was no way he could hold back.
The hand tightened in her hair, pulling until she was looking at him.
“Your cunt’s all red and swollen. Did you like coming on my face, little girl?”
She nodded, her lips stretched wide around his cock.
“I know you did. Hands between your legs. Rub your pussy while you suck me off.”
Mara stroked her soaking labia. Despite her orgasm, she was aching once more. She rubbed herself feverishly and Derek flicked her forehead. “Not that. You’re not getting off again. Put your fingers in your cunt.”
Whimpering, Mara did as she was told. Her two fingers slid in easily. She pushed them back and forth, but it didn’t feel nearly as good. Derek tugged her hair. “Pretend it’s me. Or pretend it’s the bottle, if you want. And keep blowing me.”
He leaned back, his gaze alternating between her face and the mirror. Minutes passed and Mara’s jaw and cunt began to ache for entirely different reasons. She looked up at him, begging with her eyes. Please…
Derek brushed a thumb over her forehead. “You thought I was gonna give in. I could make you do this for hours, princess.”
She nodded, sucking for want of anything else to do.
Derek folded his hands behind his head, watching her work. “So, how do I want to fuck you?”
It was obvious he didn’t want an answer. Mara stared at the base of his cock, the sun tattoo that curled across his right hip.
“I could do you against the wall? I could put you on top of me and watch you work yourself off on me?”
Her pussy clenched around her fingers as she worked in the rhythm she wished he would.
He studied her reflection. “Your ass is purple. Been a while since you’ve been spanked, Temple?”
It had been ten years, but he didn’t need to know that. She smiled, trying to look as though it might have been weeks ago. He pushed her forehead and she backed away, letting him fall from her lips.
“Stay here,” he said, sounding dangerous.
She listened as he strode to the living room. She could hear him going through her bag.
The ties. The mask.
Yet Derek returned, holding her phone. He tossed it to the floor in front of her. “Unlock it.”
She did as she was told, placing it in his outstretched hand. Derek sat back in the chair and pulled her face toward him. “More.”
She drew him between her lips then looked up to see him filming her. She tried to pull away but his big hand was holding her fast.
“It’s your phone,” he reminded her. “Keep your mouth on my dick.”
She stared up at him, unsure.
“No one’ll see it. I’d die first.”
She shouldn’t have believed him, but maybe she just didn’t care. She lowered her lips down his shaft and, knowing the camera was on her, sucked hard, putting extra flare into her movements. Derek pulled her hair, turning her face for the camera as he scowled down at her. He was still in his suit, the picture of refined brutality. Mara moaned, drawing on him slick and fast until he swore and pushed her forehead back. “That’s enough.”
She swiped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.
Derek threw her phone onto the carpet. “There you go. Something to flick yourself off to. Say thank you.”
“Thank you.” Mara turned to glimpse herself in the mirror. She was surprised to see she looked good. Her hair was messy, her make up was smeared but in a sexy way. Like the hot girl in a slasher film.
“I’m getting the ties,” Derek told her. “On all fours on the bed.”
Mara kicked off her pumps and crawled into the cold sheets. He returned with the ribbons in his hands, pushing her hips to the bed. “Don’t move.”
His fingers shook as he wound the cords around her legs, binding her thighs to her calves. She watched him work in the mirror. It all felt professional. She imagined Derek practising on dozens—hundreds—of other girls. Maybe this was just what he did.
Who cares? That’s not your business.
She tried to focus on the physical sensations—the soft strength of the ribbons, the pressure in her legs, the low rolling ache between her thighs. Soon, Derek would take her again and he wouldn’t stop until she was a screaming mess.
Her ex-boyfriend tied off the last rope, binding her legs apart. He ran his hands along her spine, brushing her still-stinging cheeks. “You ready?”
Mara lowered her forehead to the covers.
“Show me. Shake your ass for me.”
She tried, but it was hard with her legs bound.
Derek laughed. “You like that, don’t you? Rubbing your big tits against the bed. How many girls do you think have been fucked in this place before you? Probably none that came from getting their assholes eaten, but you’re a special kind of girl, aren’t you, baby?”
Mara flushed. He made her sound like a different species—homo whorius.
He moved around the bed, pulling off his jacket and laying it with exceptional care on the chair where she’d just sucked him off. He opened his shirt, undoing each button slowly. Mara stared, not caring if she looked desperate. The shirt came off and she studied his chest. It was perfect—big as a wall and marbled with muscle and tattoos collecting and separating into a million different stories. His shoes came off and then his pants. His thighs and shins were as heavily tattooed as his arms, but Mara’s gaze fixed on the bulge in his briefs. Derek rubbed a palm across it. “You missed this?”
She looked away, embarrased.
“Don’t be shy, princess. You gonna call me ‘Daddy’ while I fuck you tonight?”
She shook her head.
“Are you sure? You call me Daddy and I’ll take you out of the ropes. I’ll lick your little pussy so slow you’ll come three times before I’m finished…”
“I can’t.”
He squatted so their eyes were level. “I’ll slide into you all soft and hold you while I make you come. I can go like that for an hour. Nice and deep, the way you like it.”
He tilted her chin back up, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “You sure you don’t want to call me Daddy, baby? I am your Daddy, you know. There’s never been anyone but me. And there never will be. I’m it.”
It was a velvet bullet, delivered directly into her heart. Exactly what she was afraid of, in Derek’s matter-of-fact tone. If she was sassy, like Himeko or Chase, she could have said ‘how do you know?’ but she could never pull that kind of thing off. She looked past Derek into the mirror where shadow versions of themselves played. “I’m tied up and waiting, Derek.”
Her ex-boyfriend grinned up at the ceiling, as though there was someone there that was in on the joke. “Okay, we’ll play it that way.”
He climbed onto the bed behind her, his hands gripping her trussed thighs. “You want to get railed like a greedy little whore?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad.”
He stuck his fingers inside her, pumped once then withdrew. He crawled to her mouth, pulled down his briefs, and wiped his fingers on his cock. Then he clutched her jaw. “Suck me.”
She did, tasting the faint spice of her pussy.
“Taste nice?”
She moaned around him, and again Derek cursed and withdrew. Try as he liked, he couldn’t hold on. Still muttering under his breath, he walked to the bedside table and picked up a gold square. Mara’s heart flew into her throat. She stayed still as he sheathed himself, scared that a stray look from her would derail him again. He knelt behind her, shoving her bodysuit aside and pressing the fat ridge of his cock to her entrance.
“Push back on me. Sit on it.”
She pressed her hips back and Derek slid inside her with the sweetest resistance Mara had ever felt. She closed her eyes, cooing as her body trembled and stretched. He had the most incredible cock. The flare could have been designed by Lelo just for a woman’s pleasure. She rocked, needing more friction, but Derek held her fast. “Look up.”
“I…what?”
“The mirror. Look at us.”
Mara turned her head. The reflection was incredible. Him, large as a Viking and covered in tattoos winding her hair around his fist. Her, pale and big breasted, still in her lingerie. They looked like porn stars. Like models. Like the rich and famous.
Unbidden, Mara recalled a photo she’d long since burned—her in a white chiffon dress, Derek shirtless in black jeans. They were arm-in-arm at a party, laughing their faces off. The first picture where she’d thought she looked pretty.
Stop it.
Behind her, Derek pulled and withdrew, sending spirals down her bound thighs and into her cunt. Mara snapped into her body, disturbed and almost angry at how good it felt. Derek Hardiman with his stupid dick and his perfect body. Running off, then coming back and demanding to be called Daddy. Who did he think he was?
“Mara?”
She closed her eyes and pushed her face into the covers. “Harder. Faster.”
You didn’t give Derek orders in bed without a backlash, but a backlash was exactly what Mara wanted. He growled, driving his cock between her legs.
“Tell me what to fucking do,” Derek muttered, slapping her ass. “Never could keep your mouth shut. I can fix that. I’ll fuck you until you can’t say anything but My. Fucking. Name.”
He lifted her hips and pounded into her. Their flesh slapped, disgustingly loud, like in a porno. Mara’s forearms prickled, goosebumps racing across her back. She was going to come. She was so, so close. Mentally she begged him to keep going, to keep talking, to keep fucking her.
“Who’s there been since me?” Derek snarled.
No one. The truth of it rang through her. There had been men, but no one that could stand beside Derek. Everyone was worthless compared to him. That’s why she’d been alone. She’d been happy to be alone. And now. And now…
“I’m your king, Mara. I’m your Daddy.”
Mara bit the sheets. “No, no, no.”
He gripped her hair. “Say it. We both know it’s true. Fucking say it.”
Mara closed her eyes. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to say it. In a minute she was going to—
“Fine,” Derek growled. “Fine.”
She yowled as he withdrew, thrashing like an ally cat. He stripped off the condom, his chest heaving, sweat glossing his tattoos like fresh paint.
“I want you to finish!”
Derek’s smile was black, devoid of anything. “We don’t always get what we want, do we, baby? Close your eyes.”
Mara kept looking at him. “Please just keep going?”
“Say ‘magic’ or shut your fucking eyes. If you don’t, I’m gonna bag your head.”
Mara closed her eyes. He wouldn’t win. He couldn’t. Derek’s hand found her chin and angled her face upward. He began to judder and shake and she understood what he was doing. Why he’d told her to close her eyes.
“No! Please finish inside me?”
His hand tightened on her chin. “Not until you call me Daddy.”
Never. Never again.
“Open wide,” Derek growled. “Here it comes.”
And before she could part her lips, something warm and thick rained on her face and she moaned because Derek was right, she did love dirty things.
When he stopped, she opened her eyes and saw him heaving before her, his hand on his still-hard cock. His expression was open, longing in a way that sliced through her. She closed her eyes again.
They had been at war, and she had lost. Derek beat her, the way he always did. He’d held back when she’d begged for more, but at least she hadn’t called him Daddy. She waited for him to unbind her legs, or at least wipe the come from her face. But he knelt there until she opened her eyes again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Hang on a sec, I’ll let you out.”
He released her with a few clumsy pulls of the ribbons then slumped beside her on the bed. The come on her face was cold as jelly and Mara practically ran to the bathroom to scrub her face with hotel soap. She’d leave now, get her coat and run away. Compress everything that happened into tiny squares and paste them into a collage called ‘The Last Time.’
Derek was still flat on his back in the bedroom. He sat up when he saw her, his eyes so warm it made her shiver. How much would the papers pay to see him like this? Was there even a dollar amount? She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Hey.”
He frowned, and Mara knew exactly what he was thinking and was determined to front up. “I had my ears done.”
He nodded. “Pinned back, you mean? Like you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“And you had your…?” His gaze fell to her chest.
Feeling reckless, she ran her fingertips over them. “Yeah. Double Ds.”
He gave her a look of frank admiration. “They’re fantastic. If I hadn’t seen them before, I wouldn’t have guessed.”
She frowned. He wasn’t supposed to remember the way she was before. He wasn’t supposed to be smiling at her as though he’d never been away. “Well, they’re different.”
His brow furrowed. “Anything else you had changed I should know about?”
“My lips. And my eyelashes. And my nose. And I’d have an inch of grey if I didn’t dye my hair.”
Derek grinned up at his sky friend again. She knew that smile. It said ‘you’re nuts and I love it.’
“What?” she demanded. “You don’t like it?”
He held up his hands. “You look fantastic. But you always looked fantastic.”
Anger flicked inside her like a cigarette lighter. “Was I supposed to stay the same for you or something?”
His smile faded. “Mara…”
She turned away. “I’m gonna go.”
“I figured.”
He watched as she collected her shoes and wiped the mascara from under her eyes. The man on the reception desk was definitely going to think she was a sex worker, but who cared? She was going to go home and have a bath and snuggle Pan. Put this whole thing behind her.
“Mara? I’m sorry if what I did went too far. I was wound up and—”
“It was fine. It was exactly what I wanted.”
Derek held her gaze without blinking. Mara matched him until he looked away. “I forgot no one’s as good at that as you are, Little Miss.”
“You can stop calling me that at any time.”
“But you are my Little Miss.” He leaned back against the bedhead, folding his arms. “Just come over here. Please? We can just hang out and make sure you’re okay before you head home.”
She hesitated, then remembered Tegan’s friend, the girl Derek had hooked up with before she got sick. He wasn’t asking her to stay because he wanted her to, he was trying to give aftercare. It was probably drilled into him to do it, so his sex partners didn’t sue. It was a vicious thought and not true, but Mara didn’t care. She just wanted to leave.
“M?” Derek’s face was imploring. “Seriously, stay for a bit? Just as friends?”
Another bullet tore through her middle. She turned on her heel and headed for the door.
“Mara? Seriously.”
She looked back. “You don’t get it, Derek. The only thing worse than us being nothing would be us being friends.”
She stalked to the living room, collecting her discarded coat. The fruit and cakes were still sitting there, gleaming sadly under the lamplight.
“Hey?”
She turned to find Derek in the doorway. If he’d looked sad, if he was in any way vulnerable, she might have flung herself at his feet and wept. Thankfully, his expression was still. Emotionless. He held out a slip of paper. “Here.”
“What is it?”
“My number.”
She took a step backward. “I don’t—”
“You’re gonna want to find me again. This’ll make life easier.”
She took the paper and slid it into her bag. It was easier than arguing. She could throw it out the window of her Uber. Let it flutter into the night.
“Guess I’d be pushing to ask for yours?” He folded his arms across his chest, making his muscles swell. He always played dirty. Mara looked away. “Probably.”
“I’m busy for the next week and a half with footy—”
“Good thing we don’t have any commitments to each other.”
“—but if you want to meet up, I’ll make time,” he said as though she hadn’t spoken.
She sighed. “Do you really think this’ll work, Derek? Just pretending we have a relationship?”
His dark eyes gleamed. “Honestly? I do. Because you know, we never actually broke up.”
“We didn’t stay together either.”
His expression faltered. Then the calm look was firmly back in place. “Go, baby. Take your time. I’ll be waiting.”
She headed for the door, annoyed he’d stolen her thunder.
“By the way, I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want you to either.”
That was so unreasonable, she froze. “You’re not serious?”
“One hundred percent.”
She whirled around. “You’re such a… jerk!”
Derek’s expression was hard. “That’s my problem.”
“Okay, but you don’t have a say over what I do with anyone else. Like, at all.”
He straightened, pulling himself up to his full high. “I find out there’s someone else, they’ll be in trouble.”
Mara forced herself to smile. She had as many plans to fuck other men as she did to fly a penis-shaped rocket to Mars, but he wasn’t to know that. “I’ll do whatever I want, Derek. Thanks for the sex.”
She walked out of the room, her coat over her arm. The hotel door closed on a low, animal growl.