Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
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Has anyone's jaw ever ached from sucking too much cock? No? It wasn't like they were thick or anything, but they took a Viagra. No matter how many times I fucked them to exhaustion, it would be erected in seconds. My body aches since it's been twisted like a pretzel for the past two hours.
I am due for a long yoga session.
Cigar smoke and cologne linger in the air. My greasy-haired client finishes buttoning his suit and drops an extra twenty-thousand-dollar check. He might've sported a beer belly and couldn't make a woman orgasm to save his life, but he could do one thing right, give a massive tip. It's the very least he can do.
The pink and black lace corset squeezes all my organs closer as I struggle to get it over my hips. An enormous exhaust sigh escapes my lip when it finally gets over my boobs. I am panting like I'd run a five-mile run. My pumps click on the marble floor as I rush to the second level. My next schedule wasn't until an hour, so I figured why not torture another man's vigor?
There haven't been any beneficial suitors lately.
They always lack something Asiel has, his purity perhaps. I never realize how much I'm drawn to this innocent man as if he was the light and I were the moth. Though if I asked him, he would say he is the moth. It's interchangeable. We're both drawn to each other in different ways. My intentions just aren't as endearing as his.
Asiel is my plaything until I get bored.
Celia is performing to a sultry song, causing the crowd to roar in excitement from her sexiness. It's a blessing in disguise, leaving me access to slip through bodies without being stopped. Surprise floods my thoughts as I recognize a familiar body leaning at the bar, his head droopy. How did little old Asiel know I was thinking of him?
"Hey, Muneco!" I express a sense of amusement lingering on my tone. My arm drapes over his brawn shoulders, practically ripping through his suit's seams. A tense drift rolls off my back as I take notice of his demeanor. "Asiel?" I hook my finger under his chin, bringing his restless face to meet mine. "Are you okay? Just breathe, Muneco. Focus on breathing."
"I-I can't." His voice cracks, anguish, terrified.
Sweat glistened on his forehead. His raging pulse radiates through my fingertips while his body shudders. Asiel grips his chest, clearly suffering from a panic attack, and his torment of fear is making it worse. Why did he come here? This atmosphere is only going to heighten the effects of the attack.
"Focus on me. Okay, Asiel?" I ask, trying to read anything besides fear in his bloodshot eyes. "Let's go to my room. This scenery isn't doing anything, but making it worse."
I plop his arm over my shoulders, bearing most of his weight as I lead us to my private room. It's a peaceful sanctuary, the size of a mini apartment. A colorful mural of books rests along the white walls. A golden chandelier hangs over my bed, a fluffy, fuzzy bedding drape on the mattress. Carefully, I try to lay Asiel on the bed, but he slumps down to his ass on the floor.
