Coerce (Death in Bloom, #1)

by Candice M. Wright

money and power do not wash away a man’s sins and make him pure. It just buys him a larger closet in which to hide his skeletons.

My friends had told me about a condition they called penis brain. I had assumed it meant dickhead until they jokingly explained it to me over cheap shots and pizza. Penis brain occurs when you see a guy so damn hot, your body shuts down and you slip into a cock coma. This results in the inability to form coherent sentences and activates a primal urge to bend over on all fours and mate.

Penis brain occurs when you see a guy so damn hot, your body shuts down and you slip into a cock coma. This results in the inability to form coherent sentences and activates a primal urge to bend over on all fours and mate.

Thank you for looking after me, Atlas. I’m lucky you decided you wanted to be my friend.” I smile. “I don’t want to be your friend, Ivy. I want to fuck you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested because we both know that’s a lie. I can see your pulse fluttering and I bet if I slide my fingers inside your panties I’ll find you dripping.”

“We’ll see about humility, little one, when you’re tied to my bed begging me to fuck you. And you will, Ivy, mark my words.”

“There is no he. There’s nobody. And if this is what everyone means when they rave about alpha males, I’ve decided I don’t want one. I’m going to become a spinster cat lady instead,” I babble as I register his hard length pressed between us.

I don’t want to wake up in a bath of ice minus a kidney or on my knees in a Mexican whorehouse servicing the cartel members you sell me to.”

“Besides, nobody touches you but me. The only time you get on your knees for a man is when I’m sliding my cock into your throat, understand?” he orders in a quiet tone, the way I might order lemon chicken and rice from Eastern Gardens on the corner.

“You’re mine. You might not understand it right now, Ivy, but you will. I’m not a good man, but I can be good to you.”

“We’re like fire and gasoline, Atlas. This is gonna explode in our faces.” “Undoubtedly, but it’s too late to turn back now.” “We’ll burn up and burn out, Atlas. Neither of us will escape without scars,” I warn him one last time as I feel myself capitulate. “Silly girl. There is no escape, not now.” The worst thing is, I know he’s right. And down the rabbit hole I go.

“Roll your eyes at me again, Ivy. I dare you. It will give me the perfect excuse to put you over my knee.” I pause for a minute, surprised but oddly enough not scared. I’m starting to wonder just how hard McDouche hit me in the head last night.

“Are you getting wet at the thought of my hand making your ass red? I wouldn’t go easy on you. If you earn a punishment, you’ll get what you deserve. But if you take it like a good girl I might reward you.” His deep melodic voice flows over me, the seductive tone teamed with the erotic images his words evoke in my head has my heart speeding up and my hands clenching the counter so hard I’m surprised the tiles don’t crack.

“Was it? I didn’t think you’d want him to see me eat your pretty pussy. But if you’d rather I slid this back down, then by all means.” “Wait, what?” “Slide that skirt up over your hips and lie back on the seat for me, Ivy.” I stare at him, doing my best impression of a fish out of water. “Ivy.” His voice is low, almost a purr, and has a direct connection to my clit. “I…Atlas…we just met. We haven’t even been on a date.” “I don’t date, Ivy. I fuck. And I intend to fuck you in every conceivable way, but right now I want to eat you out before we get coffee. And something you should know—I hate waiting.” “I…you…but…ah fuck it. You only live once, right?” “You have a dirty mouth on you, Ivy. Maybe I should shove my cock between your lips to keep you quiet.”

“I’m only eighteen,” she reminds me, looking a little bashful as if I’ll be upset at the reminder. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. Her innocence shines to me like a beacon in the dark. Her small frame and barely five-foot stature call to a primal part of me, all of it corruptible by someone evil enough to do so—namely me. “When you’re finished eating, I want to fuck your face and cum down your throat. I think if you’re old enough to swallow my seed you’re old enough for a glass of champagne, don’t you think?”

“Sweet Ivy. Tell me, has anyone been inside this pussy?” I know the answer. I can feel the proof of her innocence squeezing my fingertips. Nobody is this fucking tight after taking cock but I want her to say it out loud. “No, nobody has been inside me, Atlas,” she whispers, lifting her head to look down at me. “This pussy is mine now, Ivy. You hear me? No fucker will ever see it, taste it, or touch it, bar me. When my cock slides inside your tight wet heat, know that not only will it be your first cock, it will be your last.” “Jesus, Atlas. We barely know each other.”

“Good girl. I can’t wait to come inside you, Ivy. Fuck, it’s all I can think about. I want to fill you with so much cum your belly bloats with it.” I want to do more than fill her pussy. I want to possess every inch of her, but that will have to wait for now.

“I fuck hard and fast. To do that the first time without hurting you, we need to stretch your pussy a little to accommodate me,” I warn as I shove three of my fingers hard inside her, slam my mouth down over hers, and greedily swallow down her screams.

We’ve moved well past red flags and straight to white flags of surrender. He wants to conquer me and part of me wants to let him. The other part though, the stubborn, sassy, bratty part isn’t willing to admit defeat just yet.

“You’re mine now, Ivy. It will be my ring on your finger and my seed in your belly. If you try to run from me again, I’ll lock you up, shackle you to me figuratively and literally to keep you by my side. Don’t push me, baby, because you’ll never win, not against me,” he warns me before licking away my tears.

“You think you’re my peasant?” he snarls. “If you weren’t so damn stubborn you’d see you’re my fucking queen.’’ He slaps my clit with his cock, making me gasp. He does it again and again, each time a little harder than before.

Aside from the darkness, he is jealous and possessive to a fault. The fucked-up part that has the feminist in me screaming in frustration is, I like the power he has over me, at least in the bedroom. I never thought it would appeal to me but there is something about being pinned down and rutted like an animal that stirs something dark within me.