Free Fiendish: A Twisted Fairytale by Meka James

her, she glided back towards the dance floor. Placing my drink on the table, I obliged her unspoken request.
    “Dance with me,” she whispered in my ear. I had her; she broke first and came to me.  
    Once we got on the floor, the game intensified. Her movements were slow and deliberate, although the pace of the music was fast. She turned so that her back was to me, and placed my hands on her hips. Then she started moving, rocking those hips back and forth, making sure her plump ass stayed in contact with my crotch. She was after a reaction, and when she turned, her hands moved down my chest to feel the bulge in my pants.  That triumphant smile playing on her lips once more. She backed away slightly, but I pulled her back to me grabbing her ass.
    “Oh no, we ’re not done yet.”
    She wrapped her leg around mine and began moving up and down against my bulging pants. “Your place or mine?”
    I let a smile ease across my face. “Mine.”
    I walked off to have the valet get my car while she retrieved her coat. Her eyes lit up when she saw the car. Greedy women like her were always blinded by shiny, expensive things. I opened the door, and she didn’t take her eyes off me as she slid into the seat. The entire car ride she kept one hand on my crotch, and the one other playing in my hair, paying no attention to where I was taking her. She didn’t notice when we drove farther and farther away from the lights of the city towards the affluent area of Milton. When we pulled up to the gate of my house, she finally paid attention, and a smile broke out on her face. I had no doubt she was thinking that houses behind private gates had to be large, and she wasn’t wrong. She got even more excited as the gate slowly opened, but that excitement started to wane when the house came into view at the end of the long drive.  
    “You live here?  This place looks abandoned.” I could hear the disappointment and skepticism in her voice.
    “Don ’t worry, my Pet. Ne pas juger un livre par sa couverture.”
    “What does that mean?”  
    “Simply, don ’t judge a book by its cover,” I replied, putting the car in park in the curve of the circular drive instead of the garage.
    She seemed unsure but took my hand anyway as I helped her out of the car. Linking her arm in mine, we walked up the stone steps and she waited as I unlocked the door then motioned for her to enter. As she did, she looked around the foyer, no doubt scanning for more signs of wealth. She didn’t seem to be as disappointed by the interior, but I could tell she wasn’t overly impressed either. I locked the door behind me while she removed her coat and wandered farther into the house.
    “This place is sorta like a museum,” she commented offhandedly, tossing her coat over the back of the chair.  
    I ignored her comment as I grabbed and pinned her against the wall. “Now where were we?”
    She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head away. Kissing was something I never did; it implied a level of intimacy that I didn ’t have, nor wanted, with them. They were toys, not something to be loved or cherished. She didn’t notice my rejection because I focused my lips on her neck while I ripped the flimsy garment she wore as underwear free without much effort.
    The shirt she passed off as a dress was quickly removed and tossed aside. I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, attempting again to kiss me. I lowered my head while lifting one of her ample breasts to my mouth. My tongue flicked across her nipple causing a soft moan to escape her lips. Lowering her to the floor, I pulled her over to the bear skin rug in front of the fireplace. While I started a fire to warm up the space, she dropped to her knees, quickly and easily opening my pants to get what she was after. Looking down at her with a smile, I removed my shirt while she took me into her mouth without hesitation. She gave head like a pro, swirling her tongue around my pulsating