Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“That’s it, baby boy. Tell me how good it is to be my pathetic hole to fuck.”
Lars opens his mouth to speak, and I spit directly into it. You’d think it would make him mad, but Lars simply closes his mouth, relishing my spit. His hand moves to his dick, and he slowly strokes himself.
I laugh, lean in, and whisper in the shell of his ear, “Such a dirty boy. No matter what you do, how much money and fame you achieve, all you’ll ever want is to be my pathetic fuck-boy. I bet you dream about me fucking your worthless ass, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Lars pants.
I grip his throat, constricting his breath. Lars enjoys the sensation of suffocation. The first time we found out was by accident. I freaked out, but he told me he’d never come so hard and that he wanted to try again. I thought he was crazy. I was shaken that I could’ve caused actual harm. But I wanted him to have what he needed, so I read everything I could about breath play to ensure we were both safe. I became a professional strangler for Lars.
I watch his skin morph from red to blue, suffocating him as my cock mercilessly pounds into his ass.
I lift his head off the bed. “Look at your dirty ass getting fucked. This is who you are. Not some rock god. All you are and all you’ll ever be is my fuck-hole. A receptacle for my cum.”
Lars’ hand quickens along his dick, and he shakes with every vile word I utter—the degradation fuel to run his engine.
“Next time we go on stage, I want your face covered in cum underneath that mask. You’ll be sniffing it while you sing your little heart out.”
“Gah,” Lars moans as his body stiffens. He releases, shooting himself in the face.
I grip his hands as he wipes off the semen and pin them by his head. “No. You’re gonna sleep with it on your face. Wake up with it caked on your skin.”
I abandon Lars’ throat, and he sucks in a breath. “Don’t forget, baby boy. I control it all, even every breath you take.”
I lick his lips, collecting the cum before probing his mouth with my tongue. Lars opens for me, kissing me back, swapping his cum back and forth. I pull back and spit into his mouth. “Swallow, baby boy.”
Lars does as he’s told, pushing me off the ledge into paradise. I pull out and move to the bed, using his face as target practice, covering it with cum.
I wrap my arms around him and kiss the top of his head. “Feel better?”
“Yes, man. Thanks,” he whispers as he attempts to get off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to get all this jizz off my face.”
I grab him by the waist and pull him toward me. “I wasn’t kidding. You’re sleeping with that on your face. Maybe you’ll think twice before putting my business on blast next time.”
Lars nods and drops back to my side as the orgy outside the door lulls us to sleep.
5
Billie
The last time I slept so badly was when Lars and Cain ended things, leaving me devastated. My heart was broken, and I was convinced my life had ended for a while. I desperately tried to forget them, and some of my choices afterward weren’t the best, like the mile-long list of despicable men I went through. I never expected I’d see them again. Assumed they were a painful memory I’d put behind me. But in truth, all I did was put a Band-Aid over a wound that needed stitches.
I fantasized about seeing them again and making them suffer. Having them on their knees, regretting throwing me away like trash. But fantasies are nothing like reality. I deluded myself that I was over them, that they didn’t matter. Apparently, I’m an idiot because the moment Lars revealed who they were, my entire world came barreling down around me. Suddenly, all my dreams of vengeance vanished, and I wanted to throw my arms around the only two men I ever truly loved.
Today’s a new day, and that pathetic girl from last night is long gone. I’m Billie Richmond, a music journalist. The girl who’s interviewed legends like The Rolling Stones. She’s traveled the world. This girl’s had many relationships. She’s grown into an amazingly strong person. She’s no longer the scared eighteen-year-old with an angry, pill-popping mom.
I take one last look in the mirror. Ripped black jeans, a Dead Kennedy T-shirt, and a long hot pink cardigan that falls to my ankles. Kaye told me to head to the presidential suite. I was hesitant to go into any suite that held Cain and Lars, but she mentioned all the guys would be there, and she would also join us.
My hands shake as I press the button to take me to the penthouse. The need to run is still aggressive as I tap my foot to an imaginary tune. It was much easier when Lars and Cain were nothing but a distant memory locked away in a forgotten part of my mind. Now, I can’t deny their importance in my life or the mark they left behind when we parted.