“Oh fuck.” I threw my head back and growled as the load rushed from my shaft.
I dropped my weight down against her ass and kept my dick buried inside her until the last spasm was done and every drop of cum was milked from my balls. Then I l
ifted up and pulled her onto her knees. Her tears had run through her makeup and left crevices along her cheeks. I grabbed her by the back of the neck and turned her towards Rourke, who dropped his cigarette, pressed it underneath his boot, and started unfastening his pants.
“Open wide, princess.” I pushed her towards him. “Show Rourke how much you’ve missed choking on his cock.”
“Yes—Master.” She swallowed hard and her lips parted as she moved towards Rourke’s engorged dick.
Yeah, you remember who you belong too. It’s too bad you didn’t remember it when it mattered most.
Anabelle
Two years ago
“I want to have some fun tonight.” I looked at my best friend, Samantha, and groaned. “I’m so tired of being cooped up in that house all day.”
“Yeah, trapped in a mansion—how horrific.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know how good you have it.”
“I’d trade places with you in a second.” I sighed and looked down at the floor. “You have freedom. You don’t have tutors that force you to learn languages you’ll never use or a glaring eye that never seems to be happy, no matter what you do.”
“You make it sound like hell.” Samantha shook her head back and forth. “Hell is having parents that struggle to pay the bills half the time or looking at all these college rejection letters and realizing that if you get many more of them, you’ll be stuck working a dead end job because you can’t even afford to go to college without a scholarship.”
“I could ask my father to help—if you’re struggling.” I looked up at her.
“I’d prefer not to owe a debt to Adrian Prescott—even if you are my best friend,” Samantha exhaled sharply.
“Well let’s do something to take our mind off things. I wanna go to O’Malley’s Pub.” I leaned closer. “I hear they don’t check IDs at the door.”
“Oh, are we going to ask your driver to just drop us off?” She chuckled and narrowed her eyes at me. “There’s no way. He’ll just drive you straight home. Hell, I’m surprised your father didn’t send a bodyguard to stand in my living room.”
“We can sneak out.” I lifted up, so I could look out the window. “My driver won’t even know we’re gone.”
“Sorry, Anabelle.” Samantha shook her head back and forth. “I have no interest in going to that place—it’s not safe.”
Maybe I’m tired of always being safe. I need a little adventure…
I begged and pleaded with Samantha, but she refused to go with me. After her parents got home, I knew there was no way I was going to convince her, so I said goodnight. I walked outside and stared at my driver—he had dozed off with the stupid cap my father made him wear lowered to cover his eyes. I decided not to disturb him—I started walking down the street until I got to the corner and sat down on a bench. I downloaded the Uber app on my phone, put in all of my information, and requested a ride. The first two drivers that accepted immediately canceled, and sent a message stating that they didn’t drop people off on that side of town. I was annoyed, but I kept requesting rides until eventually, someone accepted—a few minutes later a black sedan rolled up to the curb in front of me.
“O’Malley’s Pub?” The driver looked over his shoulder as I climbed into the backseat.
“Yes sir.” I smiled politely—just like my etiquette tutor had always told me to do.
“I must say—don’t get many calls to pick up people here and drop them off at a place like that.” He chuckled and turned back towards the steering wheel. “Whatever—but you better give me a big tip.”
“I will.” I smiled again.
There was a lot of places in Chicago I wasn’t supposed to go. The South Side was definitely one of them—and O’Malley’s Pub was about as south as I could go without leaving the city. It definitely sounded like the kind of place I could go to have some fun—especially if they didn’t check ID. I might even be able to have my first drink. I wasn’t some princess that needed to be locked in a castle—even if my father thought he was a modern-day king.
“Okay, here we are.” The driver rolled to a stop in front of an old wooden building that had a dimly lit sign with O’Malley’s Pub on it.
“Thank you.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Here’s your tip.”
“Wow—okay.” He nodded as he took the money. “I hope you have a good night—be careful in there.”
“I will.” I smiled politely and opened the car door.
I had a bad feeling as soon as I walked into O’Malley’s Pub. It was like a warning going off in my head—telling me to turn around and leave. I ignored it and walked to the bar. The place was thick with cigarette smoke that burned my nostrils. The pub smelled—almost rancid. I had to assume that was stale booze since I had never smelled anything like it before.