Liam brushed the hair away from my neck and fastened his lips to my jugular, sucking and nipping at me. Jax rolled onto his back and scooped up something from his pants pocket on the floor. He turned back toward me and dangled the item in front of my face.
A red collar with the names Jax and Liam branded into the leather.
“Be our princess?” Liam whispered in my ear.
I gripped their cocks, loving the feel of them coming alive in my palms. “Collar me.”
Forced by the Stepbrother
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter One
Sasha
I slid down the pole and rocketed back up, bending over and rubbing the slick metal against my ass. I arched my back and swayed to the rhythm of the pounding beat. The room was dark, smoky, but I knew he was here. Watching.
I twirled and reached behind me, unhooking the lacy bra and teasing it off a little before stripping it away completely. Whistles and crows went up from the crowd. It was Friday night. The club was packed with businessmen, college boys, hard-up husbands – a never-ending array of testosterone and cash. They were all here for me, to use the sight of my body for their own pleasures.
My nipples were bare, hard, and needy. My skin was lit with the electricity of the lust that filled the room. All of it was directed at my body as it twisted and shook.
Dancing always turned me on. It was primal. Dancing to a room full of strangers? I was on fire.
I swirled around the slick stage, an expert in hooker heels. I shimmied to the edge of the bar along the front. Thick fingers reached up and tucked cash into my g-string. I got on all fours and put my ass to the audience, spreading and letting them see my pussy imprinted against the thin fabric. More fingers, more cash. Bills fluttered down around me, a cascade of green.
I rolled onto my back and spread, my legs in the air. The men crowded closer, eagerly eyeing the small triangle of fabric separating them from me, from my most secret spot.
Some of them even called my name. “Sasha” said both reverently and desperately.
Then I saw him. Sitting in a chair toward the back, smoking a cigarette. He always watched every move I made. He never approached me when I was onstage. Just watched. Smoked and watched and waited.
He was handsome, young. He may have been a student at the university right along with me, though I’d never seen him on campus. Only here at the club. Up close and personal in our room. His dark hair fell across his forehead, the perfect accent to his green eyes. And he was fit. I’d rubbed my soft curves over the hard muscles of his body many a time.
The song was coming to an end. My show was almost over. Red-faced men surged closer, wanting one last contact. They threw money at me, pawing at my g-string like wild animals. I should say that I hated it, that every touch disgusted me. It would be a lie. I wanted to be wanted, to be desired, to be put forever into their spank bank.
I rose and bowed before blowing a kiss and hurrying off stage so the next girl could begin her routine.
It was time. Our time.
I tied my flimsy top back over my breasts and checked myself in the backstage mirror. Even in the dark, I could tell my platinum blonde wig was smooth, my eyes bright. I was ready.
I strode out from behind the curtain. Men had lined up, waiting for me like I was throwing out candy at a parade. They held bills in their hands, tempting me with folded twenties and even a few hundreds. I smiled at them. “Maybe later, doll” or “I have an appointment, but then you’re next.” I’d say anything to get them to back off so I could get to the one I wanted.
I only kept two dates during the week. I had a Wednesday night regular, nice older guy. Handsy, but tame and paid extremely well. And my Friday night. I lived for my Friday night. For him.
He was still sitting in the same chair, cigarette finished. He watched me emerge from the flock of men. No, he didn’t watch, he devoured me with his eyes. Toes to tits to the top of my head. He took it all in and absentmindedly swiped at the hard length in his pants. I felt like I knew it by heart though I’d never seen it, never even touched it with my hands. I’d felt it wedged against my ass plenty as I shimmied around him.
He stood and took a fold of bills from his front pocket. I could barely rip my eyes away from the outline of his hard cock, thick and ready. He motioned me toward him with two fingers. I obeyed. When I got close enough, I recognized his scent. Some sort of a woodsy, clean blend, not too heavy but all male.