Page 24 of Where Angels Fall

The last button pops undone, his hands coming up to grip my wrists, so much bigger than mine. With little effort he pries my arms away from my chest, letting the material of my shirt hang loose. My skin heats as I flick my eyes to the man at the bar, knowing he can see me half-naked. And he is looking. Just like the eyes I can feel burning into me from behind.

“Wh... What kind of game?” I dare to ask, but I’m not sure if I want the answer. I’m suddenly feeling so very stupid for thinking I could come here and leave unscathed. The fact that I walked in here willingly is making me feel dizzy with regret and fear.

His fingers graze my skin as he slowly peels the material off my body, falling over my shoulders.

“Oh, it’s quite easy. You’ll get the hang of it quickly,” he drawls as the material falls off me. My chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate, and my hands reach for the bar to steady myself. “I’m going to stand back and watch my men run a train on your pretty little body. Let them touch you. Spank you, lick you...” He leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “And fuck you.”

I’ve ceased the ability to breathe... to talk. His words barely settle in my mind before my head is shaking and I’m trying to think of a way I can escape and get out of here. For the second time.

“No,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “No, that’s... I shouldn’t have...”

In seconds he has me turned around to face him, the wood behind me digging into my lower back. His face is curled in a snarl; the tattoo of the rose crinkled with his expression.

“Oh, I forgot you need to pretend that you’re not absolutely soaking your lace panties thinking about my men taking their turns on you,” he says on a cruel laugh, the smile that was on his face moments ago turning into pure anger. It simmers off him, real and hot; his emotions a living, breathing thing. It almost distracts me from the words he is saying until a mocking taunt lilts his words. “Please, don’t. Stop it. I don’t want this,” he mocks me, and I glare back at him, my hands fisting by my sides. “Enough with the lies, Maddison. You are as fucked up and as dirty as the rest of us.”

His words land like a blow, and I flinch, my eyes narrowing on his. “You don’t even know me,” I grit out, though my voice shakes on the way out.

Who does he think he is, telling me who I am? Telling me I’m as fucked up as him? Nobody is as bad as Ash.

In a flash, the anger on his face melts away, leaving in its wake a devastating smile. White teeth and plush lips, two dimples which defy all the darkness in his eyes and the ink scrawled over his face, making him look so boyish. He raises his hand to tenderly brush the hair from my face behind my ear, fingertips softly grazing my skin.

“Angel,” he tsks his tongue. “Just because you wear silky clothes and drive fancy cars... Just because you live in an outrageous apartment and look as sweet and perfect as a real-life angel, means fuck all.”

Reaching behind me, he unzips my skirt.

“We might live in shacks compared to you. Wear ripped leather and drink cheap beer. But inside... You are just like us, deep down. Dirty and depraved... begging to let go, to be free.”

My skirt pools around my ankles, and I’m left standing in the club in nothing but my white lace undergarments. Ash’s eyes blaze as his focus slowly slides down my body. When he looks back into my eyes, I stare back. I’m too scared to look over his shoulder at the large group of men who are watching the show.

Ash steps as close to me as he can, his unforgiving body pressing against mine as he drops his forehead onto mine. “I know you want it. Take it.”

Our breaths mingle, mine coming out in short, sharp puffs. I’m trembling on the spot, mulling over the idea of letting go... being free. I’m not sure I even know how to do it. Am I doing it now? I’m not smiling my awful fake smile, and I’m not speaking in my perfectly practiced sweet voice. Is this letting go?

He seems to see what he wants to see in my face, because he growls, lifting me onto the bar in one swoop. Finally, my eyes lift to the crowd behind Ash, and I see more than one of them with their cocks in their hands, slowly playing with themselves. Others lean back in their booths, sipping their drinks slowly, watching me without restraint.

It does something to me, knowing these men are watching me and enjoying it. A weird feeling that I can’t name has my shoulders pulling back and my chin rising, and Ash sees it, reaching out and taking my face in one hand in a rough grip.

“That’s it,” he grits out, face dropping dead serious. In quick work, he has my bra unclipped and off my body. Then, he fists the waistband of my panties and rips; the expensive material tearing like paper. Over my shoulder, he nods at the bartender, who slowly saunters over to our side, standing next to Ash.

I see the arousal tenting the older man’s pants as his light, kind eyes scan me over.

“Let’s start slowly, hey?” Ash murmurs, thumbs dusting over my peaked nipples in the softest touch, making me shiver. “Matt here is going to eat your cunt so I can watch how pretty you are when you come.”

My eyes shoot to Matt, the older man who seems the kindest out of the lot. He is going to go down on me? Although my face is burning hot from shame and embarrassment, I can’t deny the way my core throbs at the thought of it.

“Don’t worry, Angel. Matt is known to eat pussy like no one else. Girls visit just to get him between their legs,” Ash says, reaching into his pocket to grab another cigarette.

He steps away as he lights it, leaning on a nearby table in front of me while Matt steps in between my knees.

My gaze flickers between a nonchalant Ash and a hungry Matt, who places a rough hand between my breasts and pushes me back. “Lay back, kid,” he grumbles, leaning over me until I can feel his warm breath over my pussy. I know I’m wet and I know he can see it. “Let me taste this gorgeous cunt of yours.”

Every fibre of my being is telling me to fight this. To push this stranger off me and sprint for the door. My wide eyes find Ash, who watches me with narrowed eyes. Gaging my reactions.

Then, hungry lips latch onto my clit, and all thoughts vacate my mind. Starting slowly, he kisses my core like one would kiss someone’s lips. Slow and sensual, and it has my hips twisting to find more. My fingers grapple with the bar top, trying to find something to hold on to as my body fights the amazing sensation.

The man groans a deep sound against me, and it shoots up my spine.

“This sweet cunt,” he growls, his movements becoming rougher.