Free Defaced: A Dark Romance Novel by Marissa Farrar Page B

relax.” She pushed her breasts against his chest, rubbing herself against him, while her hand moved in a pumping motion between them. “Squeeze my breast,” she breathed. “Pinch my nipples. I like that.”
    He did as she asked, pinching the hard nub of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, but found the action did nothing for him. She kept her face buried against his neck, giving little moans of what he assumed were pleasure, but which felt faked. He needed there to be a connection, for her mouth to be on his, for their eyes to be locked with shared passion.
    “Look at me,” he growled.
    But instead of lifting her line of sight to his face, she dropped to her knees. He gasped as her hot, wet mouth enclosed around his cock. Her tongue swirled around the tip, her teeth gently grating his length. She began to moan, but the sound only made his shoulders tense, unbidden anger rising within him.
    “Look at me,” he demanded again.
    This time her eyes lifted, her mouth still circled around the girth of his erection. Her gaze flicked over his face, lingering on the side he knew was disfigured. Horror and revulsion registered in her dark eyes before she hastily looked down and continued to bob back and forth.
    His erection began to deflate.
    Filled with anger, guilt, and disappointment, he reached down and grabbed her by the upper arm. Her mouth moved off him, and roughly, he pulled her to her feet.
    “Get out of here,” he said, giving her a shove toward the door.
    Her eyes widened with fear. “But ... but ... I haven’t done what your father asked.”
    Monster tucked his dick back into his pants. “Leave!”
    “Please, I’ll do anything you want me to.” But she still wasn’t looking at him—her gaze darting around the room, resting on every surface except the thing that horrified her the most. How could she do it, he wondered? How could she touch him in such a way when he was so repulsive to behold she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him? He felt no compassion for this woman—only the same disgust she must surely feel about him.
    He strode to the door and banged on the wood with the flat of his palm. The sound echoed through the room, loud and hollow, making her cringe. His hand smarted at the contact.
    Footsteps on the other side, growing louder as they approached. And then the door swung open, his father’s familiar figure in the opening.  The other man’s keen gaze flicked between them, taking in the scene before him—the frightened woman pulling her dress around her body, the angry, ashamed expression of his only son.
    “You did what was required?” his father asked the woman.
    A prostitute, he realized that now. He’d read about women who were paid to have sex with men.
    “I .... I ...” she stuttered.
    Monster spoke up. “She did what was required.”
    His father’s eyes blazed. “You dare lie to me?”
    His stomach churned at the lie, at standing up to his father. “No, Father. She put her mouth on me. I enjoyed it.”
    “Lies! I know what satisfaction looks like, and this certainly isn’t it.” The man stalked into the room. With his open palm, he struck the prostitute across the face, hard enough to knock her to the floor. She raised her hand to her face where she’d been hit, her dress falling open once more.
    “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I tried, I tried.”
    His father turned to him. “What happened?”
    “Nothing.” Heat burned his cheeks. “I wasn’t able to—physically.”
    “Bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with you, at least not with that part of you, anyway. Tell me the truth or I’ll beat both of you bloody.”
    Monster’s lips pressed together, not wanting to tell his father the truth, knowing how pathetic—how weak—it sounded.
    His father strode to the woman and reached down and grabbed her by the throat. Even though he was older, his father was still a powerful man, both mentally and physically. Monster was big enough and strong enough to