Mine

by Clio Evans

“Hang up.” Two words. They were soft, so soft only I could hear him. A whisper, even. The stranger’s voice sent a shiver up my spine. It was deep and delicious, with a graveled edge that made my chest lurch.

“Hang. Up.” I swallowed hard. Did I turn around and see who was talking to me? Did I yell at him for speaking to me that way? I was a CEO. I was the one who always told others what to do. I was always the one in control, always the one to lead.

“Good girl.

Of course, I hadn’t really seen her ass, given she was wearing a coat. But every ass was biteable. Spankable.

I couldn’t just go around dominating people in coffee shops on random Thursday mornings. Not only was that probably against the ethics of practicing good and safe kink, it was fucking weird.

And this was where I felt most at home—turning a crowd of strangers into heathens and feeding off the energy like it was my lifeline.

I glanced back and realized I was being filmed by a few women in the front. Their boyfriends glowered at me, and I winked at them before heading off stage.

“Stop staring,” she snapped. “Never. I think you’re beautiful.” “I bet you say that to everyone who throws themself at you.” She didn’t like being told no. “You’re just a flirt.” Well, I was a flirt. “I am flirting, but you’re also beautiful. Both can be true.” A long sigh. “Maybe I’ll change my mind. I shouldn’t do this.” “That’s fine,” I said nonchalantly, but decided to add, “I wouldn’t be mad if you did. Because I’m not going to fuck you unless you’re begging me to, Pepper.”

Salt had the voice of the devil. And I really wanted to be a good little sinner.

“Then why did every muscle in your body tense? Sex. Is that what you want, Pepper? Do you want sex? Do you want to be fucked? Does your pussy crave a cock that’ll make her weep?”

“Outside the bedroom, I doubt anyone could truly tell you what to do. But behind closed doors, in my arms, vulnerable. Needy.”

“You’re mine,” I rasped. “Mine to fuck and mine to play with. Mine to make come over and over again until you're my perfect little mess.”

“You need someone who will make you forget about all of that,” he murmured. “Someone with a firm hand, hmm? Someone who won’t judge you for whatever you want to try.”

“Beg,” Salt demanded. “I told you earlier I’m not fucking you until you beg for it, Pepper. Beg me for this cock. Beg me to breed your needy little cunt. Beg me to fuck you until you forget who you are.”

“Was that good for you, baby girl? Touching yourself when you shouldn’t have? Did you come?” “Yes,” she cried. “I came so fucking hard I saw stars.” “Well, make a fucking wish, because you’re about to see them again.”

She was a crimson rose with thorns that would cut me and bleed me. But I yearned for that pain. For the type of love that would strangle me. That would set me free. She’d come back. I hoped.

Bringing her here felt like taking her into my past. But in all the darkness, she was a beacon, and instead of worrying—I felt comforted by her presence.