Empire of Lust: Chapter 16

There are sides to us that other people are not supposed to witness under any circumstances.

There are dark shadows, jaded edges, and the whole package of untouched corners.

But most of all, there are parts that we don’t even like to look at in the mirror.

Everyone has a fraction that they dislike. Mine is everything.

When I was a teen with troubled emotions and a thirst for violence, I thought it was because my father betrayed my mother, who proceeded to hate herself and made me witness her drowning in her own blood.

Then as I grew older, I realized my need for a darker substance of life had nothing to do with my parents and more to do with my head that was apparently wired differently.

So differently that when Nicolo broke every other kid’s toy, I just watched without being bothered or excited.

So differently that I used dark emotions, such as hatred, revenge, and violence, to fill the gaping hole I discovered inside me.

And I’ve been doing so well, wearing the diamond-studded mask that’s made of my billions and being the king my name refers to.

I hide my hungry demons, twisted emotions, and special brand of emptiness so well that even my daughter doesn’t see it.

Nate does, but just a portion of it and only when I lose control.

So why in the fucking fuck does this woman who feels so small in my arms see that gaping hole?

More importantly, why did she seek me out when she was fully aware I would be at my fucking worst?

Partially, that doesn’t matter, because I’ve been buried in her tight cunt for the past hour.

After I carried her inside the cottage, I fucked her on the carpet while on all fours as I pulled on her bright red hair that, under the dim light, looks like blood.

My demons’ favorite color.

Then I threw her on the worn-out sofa, ripped off whatever was left of our clothes, and fucked her with her legs on my shoulders.

We somehow ended up on the floor again, on which I smacked her ass red, then, not being able to resist, I flipped her around and thrust into her again. I fucked her with renewed, unhinged energy until her moans turned to cries and small whimpers.

That’s where we are right now, on the thirty-year-old carpet that only sees the cleaning lady every Sunday, like a church.

I’m on top of her, one of her long legs on my shoulder and the other on the floor.

Her body is a map of bite marks, sucking marks, finger marks, spanking marks. All the marks.

I’ve taken my time, stamping every inch of her skin with my mouth, dick, and hands.

My cock slowly thickens as I think of all the other places I can mark her in. Places no one but me will ever look at.

Aspen lies on her back, her hair like flames around her face, and she smells like the strongest patchouli and me.

Only me.

Perspiration clings to her skin and streaks of my cum decorate her stomach from earlier. Biting wasn’t enough, so I came all over her pink tits and pale stomach.

Caveman much? Probably. But I’m starting to think I have no limits whatsoever with this woman.

If it were anyone else, she would’ve been on her way an hour ago, a few thousand dollars richer and with a copy of her NDA.

I never wanted to have a woman as soon as I’ve finished with increasing intensity. But Aspen is an infuriating exception to my habit.

Her eyes widen as she stares at me and then to where we’re joined. “You’re…getting hard again.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Get off me, you monster.” She slaps both her small hands on my chest and pushes, but the gesture lacks the strength to actually move me.

“The only monstrous thing about me is between my legs, sweetheart.”

“You need a doctor for your sex addiction issues.” She pushes me again, and this time, I pull out of her.

While I’m ready for round twenty, she is not. Purple bruises cover her shoulder and some parts of her face that aren’t concealed by makeup.

I must’ve been blind to those when I took her like a Neanderthal against the tree—or the million times after.

And yet, I find myself forgetting about it again as I watch my cum dripping out of her pussy and messing up her fair thighs.

A strange feeling of possessiveness grabs hold of me by the balls. The need to own her, again and again, grows inside me with the persistence of a natural disaster.

Releasing a quaking breath, of relief or discomfort, I don’t know, Aspen tries to slide back on her ass and winces. “Damn you. My ass feels like it’s on fire.”

“Don’t even pretend you don’t like it. The moment I spanked you, you came all over my dick.”

Her lips tremble before she clamps down on them. “Shut up.”

“Afraid to admit to your kinky tendencies?”

“I’m not kinky. I’m vanilla.”

I laugh. “Vanilla is what Gwen eats and breathes instead of air. You, sweetheart, are the definition of a submissive.”

“I’m not submissive.”

“Yes, you are. You just didn’t know it before. If you want proof…” I lean over and whisper in her ear in a low, deep tone, “How does it feel to be called a good girl?”

A full-body shudder overtakes her, her lips part, and that dash of red returns to her neck.

By the time she comes back to her senses and shoves me away, it’s already too late.

“See?”

“Stop smiling or I’ll smack you.”

“Your crass mouth turns me the fuck on, sweetheart.” I motion at my dick that’s definitely running a campaign for another round.

“Don’t even think about it.” She slides a few inches back, completely ignoring the sting of my handprints.

“I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“And you expect me to believe you? You have the sex drive of a bull.”

“My dick is honored.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” she grumbles. “Also, you didn’t use a condom.”

“Should’ve pointed that out the first time around.” I can’t resist gathering my cum with my fingers, then slowly smear it on her folds.

She shudders, her toes curling. “I didn’t get the chance… Aren’t you going to ask whether or not I’m on birth control?”

“Does it matter?”

“What?” she snaps.

“If you are, and there’s a ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent probability of that, considering how much of a responsible adult you are, then that’s that. If it’s the remaining zero point zero one percent and you aren’t on birth control, then we’ll deal with it when it becomes an issue.”

“How the hell can you say that after everything that happened in the past?”

“The past is in the past. I fail to see the reason why this should be made into an argument.”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the tiny fact that the last time you put your dick in me, Gwen came out of it.”

“She must’ve been a fast sperm.”

“You’re disgusting.” She hits my shoulder. “What happened isn’t a joke.”

“Never thought of it as one, considering my single parent status. The fact remains, we were kids back then, but we aren’t anymore, so quit the dramatics. They don’t suit you.” I start to fuck her with my cum, but she crawls back like an injured animal.

Her glare could cut stones as she folds into herself. “I said. Don’t even think about it, Kingsley.”

“You have to elaborate because, unlike the press’s claims, I’m unable to read minds.”

“Your eyes are shining with that light that means you’ll take me again.”

“I won’t take you, I’ll fuck you.” I smile, falling onto my back to physically subdue my libido. “But I’ll give you some time to recuperate.”

She remains in a sitting position, facing me, but pulls her knees to her chest and hides most of her nakedness. “Thanks, Your Majesty.”

“Most welcome, my good girl.”

Her lips part and I grin. To say I like taking her off guard would be an understatement. She becomes docile in a way, and so fucking adorable.

An adjective that I shouldn’t even have the capacity to use on this woman.

She has this side of her that’s hidden from everyone.

Everyone except me.

“You’re in an awfully good mood for someone who was punching a tree in the middle of the night like the main character from a slasher movie.”

“An intense fuck does that. You were a good sport.” I reach for my pants that are lying nearby and pull out my Zippo.

“I’m not a damn sport.”

“You can be the whole fucking Olympics.” I grab her coat and throw it on her.

While I’m as hot as a sauna, she was shivering just now. It’s a shame to sacrifice the view of her pink tits and pussy, but priorities and all that.

“You can be such an asshole.”

“Can be? I thought I was an asshole for certain.” I tuck the coat under her chin, then I tilt her head so I can get a better view of her eyes.

They’re as deep as the earth but are still reaching for the sky with the stubbornness of tall trees.

She pulls away, then pauses, grabbing my hand between hers and examining it. “You’ve busted your knuckles.”

I tactfully retrieve it, lie back down, and flip the Zippo open with my hand that’s resting on my chest. “They’ll heal.”

“You’re not some thug or in high school anymore.”

“Thanks for the unnecessary reminder about my existential status. I’ll add it as a note in my schedule.”

“You know, emphasis on reason and systematic thinking is a synonym to retreating from living.”

“Spare me the Nietzsche bullshit.” I angle my head to face her. “Besides, ever heard of practicing what you preach?”

“Me?”

“When was the last time you lived in the moment? Aside from when I was fucking your brains out just now, of course.”

“The arrogance police are taking you into custody.”

I grin. “You’re not avoiding the living in the moment subject. Do you do that or are you as theoretical as your mentally unstable idol?”

“I…”

“What?”

“I watched Friends with Caroline the other night.” She winces as soon as she says the sentence.

“Wow. That’s as badass as bungee jumping.”

“You don’t get to lecture me when all you do is destruction, revenge, and more destruction.”

“Either that or dabbling in some disgusting territory like peace, love, and curing world hunger.”

She chuckles and the sound is light and air-like in quality. “What blasphemy.”

“I know. The worst.”

We stare at each other for a beat, the only sound echoing in the air is my Zippo’s opening and closing motion.

Aspen swiftly slides her attention to the uneventful ceiling and its wooden pillars. “We should probably go before someone reports us for trespassing on their property.”

“Unless I can report myself, that’s highly unlikely.”

Her head whips in my direction. “You own this?”

“And a hundred other properties. Admittedly, it’s the most Halloween-themed of the bunch and could be used for some satanic rituals.”

She runs her gaze over the older than dirt window frames, the shabby decor that belongs in a low-budget motel set for a cowboy movie, and the faint light from the fixture that’s threatening to fall beside us.

“You never said you owned this place.”

“Never said I didn’t. Technically, it was my father’s at the time.” My lips twist. “A birthday present to my mother, a vacation cottage where we could come for the weekends.”

“It must’ve been nice.”

“Fucking horrible is the word you’re looking for. There was nothing nice about Benjamin and Liliana Shaw’s marriage. All they did was pretend they were the next American king and queen while simultaneously drowning in other things besides each other. He, in pussy. She, in any pills she could get her hands on—painkillers, sedatives, antidepressants.” I pause, not knowing what the hell came over me to talk about my parents. “But hey, a genius child with godlike looks came out of their unfortunate union, so it wasn’t a useless pairing, after all.”

She doesn’t buy my attempt to lighten the mood and frowns. “Have you abandoned this place because it reminds you of your parents? Or maybe because it reminds you of the child you were with your parents? You called it the yang to your yin, not yin to your yang as it’s commonly known. Because you’re the yin, the black side of the sphere, so is the child version of you perhaps that yang?”

“You have so many questions for someone who was begging me to stop or they would faint not ten minutes ago. I liked you better when you were mute.”

“Your attempts at being an asshole to make me drop the subject are the definition of a failure.”

“You’re fucking infuriating.”

“I know, you tell me that every chance you get. For the record, you’re way past the infuriating stage and well into the obnoxious one. Now, answer my question.”

“Add a please and I might consider it.”

She purses her lips. “No.”

“Good talk.”

“Joke’s on you. I’ll just draw my own conclusions. When they’re so deeply engraved in my head, no amount of truth you offer will be able to replace them.”

“Didn’t think you liked to engrave details about me in that busy brain of yours.”

“Shut up,” she says, her signature “I’m embarrassed” line, her neck reddening. Then she clears her throat. “Anyway, Gwen visited me and I told her you had nothing to do with my attack.”

My jaw clenches at the reminder of my clusterfuck of a relationship with my daughter that’s been going downhill since she chose my best friend as the love of her life. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” She springs up, letting the coat fall to her midsection. Her tits gently bounce as she leans over. “She was so hurt at the prospect of hurting you. You’re a jerk, but you’re a good father type of jerk, so don’t let this unnecessary rift tear you apart… Kingsley!”

“What?” I don’t stop staring at the marked flesh of her breasts.

“Have you heard a word I was saying?”

“Yes and no. It’s kind of distracting, not to mention creepy, to talk about Gwen when your tits are on full display.”

She covers them with an arm, turning all red. “You damn pervert.”

I grab her arm and pull it down, exposing her pink-dusted nipples. “Do you want to see what a real pervert looks like?”

She must catch a glimpse of the lust and the million positions I have planned for her shining in my eyes, because hers widen, flicking between green and brown.

“No, Kingsley.”

“Call me King like you did earlier.”

“I…did not.”

“Yes, you did, in that throaty sexy little voice of yours.” I pull her close, throwing the coat to the side.

“Don’t you dare or I’ll bite your dick off.”

“Kinky. You know I love it.” I grab a handful of her red ass and she moans.

“Goddamn it…you asshole.”

“I know, sweetheart. You have the green light to call me as many colorful names as you can think of while I fuck you.” And then I spread her legs and proceed to eat her sweet cunt as if I’m a starving animal.

It’s my twisted form of a thank-you for saving me from my own head.

Or at least, distracting me from it.