Head On (Strength And Love)
S.R. Jones
Chapter One
Ethan
The woman under me screams, a proper bloodcurdling scream, and rakes her nails down my back. I curse and grab her hands, holding them down, hard, on the bed covers.
“Please no, don’t do this. No. I don’t want this.” She thrashes her head side to side, and it’s all a bit theatrical.
I smirk at her and lean in to bite her neck. Grabbing both her slim wrists in one of my big hands, I place the other around her throat and apply a small amount of pressure, but it works. Her eyes go wide and she stops making a fuss.
“No. No. No.” She’s murmuring the words now, blinking her eyes at me as if batting away tears, but there’s no water there. It’s all a game and I’m going to play my role to the hilt.
“I’m going to fuck you, hard, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” I growl in her ear.
“My husband will kill me.” Her mouth twitches at those words, a little smile she quickly bites back.
“Well then, better keep your mouth shut and he won’t find out.”
I move her legs apart, and then I push my way inside her. I’d already put a condom on before I entered her bedroom.
“I’m begging you,” she gasps.
“Should have locked your door. That chain is paltry, anyone can snap it. Maybe this will teach you a lesson to use your keys.”
She’s back to scratching up my back, and it’s going to be a total mess. Fucking fake nails. I’ll need to disinfect my back at this rate. I decide to tell her.
“I’m going to have to bleach my back or something, you keep this up.”
“Serves you right for being a raping bastard. I don’t want this. You’re taking me against my will.”
She’s going a bit over the top now with the theatrics, and I have to fight not to roll my eyes, or to lose my erection. I’m getting bored, so decide to get it over and done with. I know what she wants. I put my hand over her mouth, and whisper in her ear.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll really hurt you. You’re mine now, you have no fucking say in any of this, you hear me? None. And I don’t care what your pathetic husband thinks of it. He can come find me if he wants because I’m not scared of him. I saw you and I wanted you too much to fight it anymore. You’re fucking gorgeous and he doesn’t know what he’s got right in front of him.”
I crack myself up. I try not to laugh, and I’m searching my brain for what else I can say when she convulses around me, gripping my cock in a vice as she comes. I fake my own orgasm, turn around and pull the condom off and shove it into a small plastic bag. I tie it and then place that into the black backpack I wore on my way here.
I look back at the woman in front of me. Her eyes are glassy, her mouth slack. I kiss her on the cheek. Never the lips.
“Thanks, Ethan.” She smiles at me, and then throws the covers off and walks out of the room, naked and proud.
She comes back a few moments later with a wad of bills in her hand. “There’s a bit extra in there. For fitting me in at such short notice. It’s been a bitch of a week.”
“Why is that?” I’m genuinely interested. Selina, my client, is a senior research scientist and some of the stuff she works on is important shit.
“Ah, I can’t tell you, or I’d have to kill you.” She cracks the joke with a wry smile on her face, and I think her husband is a dick to neglect her like he does.
No sex in six years. But he won’t let her see anyone else, and the one time she brought it up, she says he went apeshit. They’ve got a kid, and Selina doesn’t want to leave him while the kid’s still in high school, and she thinks affairs are too messy or something. I can’t remember what she said. The upshot is, she uses me when the husband is working away and the kids having a sleepover. It just so happens that I’m happy to cater to her deepest and darkest fantasies, too. And I must be pretty good at it, because now I have a regular roster of clients, and a fair few of them share her proclivities.
It freaked me out when she first requested this…speciality. Consensual non-consent, to give its fancy name. It has never been a fantasy of mine, but I’m paid to do what the client wants, not what I want. We have safe words, and everything is agreed beforehand in a series of emails. Plus, they must pay half up-front. I need to cover my back. Right now, I need to fucking disinfect my back. I wince as I move.
I’ve gone from being a killer for the government, to offering sex for hire. But whereas the rough sex stuff is all play, and her kink, the killer shit was for real. I wonder, not for the first time, what Selina would think if she knew the hands that were on her throat this evening have choked the life out of someone for real. Would it scare her off, or turn her on more?
“Try to go easy on my back next time,” I chide. “I’m going to look like a fucking red and white zebra if anyone sees me with my shirt off.”
She laughs and waves me away. And we’re done. Selina is a good client, but she doesn’t want anything but the sex. Suits me fine. Some clients like to be wined and dined and that’s fine too, but I’m not a great one for making conversation, so I find those appointments the hardest.
“Bye sweetheart.” I kiss her cheek again. “Don’t forget to take that fake security chain off before Bill comes home.”