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Introduction:

I just wanted one night.

One filthy, anonymous, no-names kind of night.

But my bodyguard had other plans.

Clay Johnson doesn’t knock. He breaks doors. He doesn’t ask. He takes.

And when he found out I was sneaking out to get fucked by a stranger?

He showed me exactly who I belonged to.

Now I’m bruised, dripping, and branded…

And I’m not sure I want it any other way.

He called me by my first name, and my stomach twisted when I heard it. Taking a few more steps, I must reach the street to bolt for it. Traffic will make it hard for him to get to me. "No matter where you go, I will find you." Reaching the street, I ran, cars flying by in between us. I reached the other side where the Uber was already waiting. Looking back, I saw him dodge cars as he was walking in the street. Climbing in, Ellie Baker?" the driver asked. "Yep, that's me, Black Orchid, please."

Pulling out my phone, I texted Sarah "Mission accomplished. On my way bitch". I will make it to the club for ladies' night after all. Being locked up in my apartment for too long is the downfall of being a mafia boss's daughter. When I heard a loud bang, the car came to a screeching halt. "What was that? What is going on?" I demanded.

The driver got out of the car: "No! I need to get farther away. Get me out of here!" The next thing I knew, my door swung open, and it was Clay, and he was angry. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car. "How did I get a flat tire?" the driver yelled. Clay threw me over his shoulder like I was nothing and headed back towards my apartment.

Clay Johnson stood like a wall, massive, silent, impossible to ignore. The Marine discipline was still in him, but the weight behind his eyes said he'd seen too much. Muscles coiled under the fabric of his suit, built for violence, he never seemed eager to use. He didn't talk much; he didn't have to. He was here because he owed my father.

His hands where hot and rough on my thighs, the pain sent a shock right to my pussy. Of course my pussy would betray me in a moment like this. My panties getting damp for my bodyguard is a sign of how long it's been. It's been too long, and I need a release; that was the entire point of tonight. My legs thrown over his shoulder, but his arms covering my ass so I'm not revealing myself to the world in my lucky cocktail dress. Looking around the street, I didn't even make it a few feet.

"Put me down, Shrek!" I yelled while trying to hit his back. I might as well hit a brick wall because it did nothing. It took him just a few strides to return to the side of the street where my apartment was. "What did you do to his car?" I asked. "I shot out the tire," he replied as if he were just getting me my mail. "You are a psycho, no wonder my father hired you. Put me down now!" Reaching my apartment, he started going up the stairs.

"Are you going to carry me to my apartment?" I asked, and he said nothing. Going up the first flight "I take that as a yes, this is bull shit. I just want a night out with my friends. I just want to blow off steam with a stranger at the club. A girl has needs you know" he paused for a heartbeat but continued with silence as we went up another flight of stairs. Finally reaching my apartment, he pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. "Hey! How do you have a key to my apartment?" I ask. Walking in, he puts me down in the kitchen and stares at me.

"Hello! Answer me! How do you have a key to my apartment?" His eye contact lingers, and there is silence. I can't stand the silence. Stepping closer, I waved my hand in front of his face. "Hello, is anyone home?" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into him, my breath hitched. "I am hired as the best because I can access much more than you think." Why did he freak me out and turn me on simultaneously?"

His presence is intoxicating. Looking into his eyes, I saw a flicker of something, a flicker of hurt and pain, and it caused me to soften. For a moment, he did, too, his grip on my wrist loosened. His other hand reached up to my face, and it caused me to flinch. He paused. His fingertips brushed my jaw, my breath hitching before I could stop. "You have dirt on your face," he murmurs, voice low enough to make my stomach twist. My thighs instinctively press together, heat pooling low. His thumb grazes my cheekbone, pausing there. "Why did you flinch just now?"

The softness in his eyes feels more dangerous than the anger. "Abusive past relationship," I just wanted to leave it at that. His demeanor changed. "What's his name?" I just laughed. "I'm serious," my laughter stopped. "Why do you care?" I was met with silence. I realized he had me backed up against my kitchen counter. "Um, are you going to let me pass?" his eyes never left mine. The next thing I knew, he lifted me by my legs and put me on the counter, pressing against me, one hand in my hair, the other on my neck, he kissed me.

Slow at first, but then heated and demanding, my body reacting to him before my mind could catch up. His mouth claimed mine, his grip in my hair tightened, forcing me to arch against him, my hips pressing flush to his hips. I shouldn't want this, I shouldn't want him, he works for my father, and there is no telling what my father would do to him if he found out.

He released my hair only to slide his hand to my throat, firm and commanding, while the other grabbed my breast. Even though my dress was a thin fabric, I wanted it off. I wanted his hand on my skin; it caused me to squirm. I could feel my pussy twitching in desperation for some friction. He was teasing me, and a moan escaped my lips. He pushed me back farther on the counter, forcing my legs to spread wider. His one hand was slowly going down my body. "You were going to let some stranger have you tonight, weren't you?" he asked in a low, demanding voice.

His voice etched into my brain was possessive, where was this coming from?. Has he thought about this before? Has he thought about fucking me like this before? "You don't give yourself away like that, not when I'm here." For a split second, my mind started to spiral, but his hand made its way to my thighs, and instantly those thoughts were gone. His hand moved from my hair and was now over my throat, his other rubbing my thigh. He was causing a throbbing ache in my pussy, I need this man and I need him now.

Leaning over me, his face so close to mine, he kissed my jawline up to my ear. "Tell me you want this, Ellie. Tell me you want this right now, and we will go beyond blowing off steam." Fuck, I couldn't think with my pussy screaming at me. I could only whisper "yes". "That's not good enough, Ellie. Tell me you want this, tell me you want me." His arm went higher up my thigh reaching my panties "Yes! I fucking want you!" I yelled out. "Good girl," he replied.

His fingers went up and down the slit of my pussy, the tiny fabric of my panties was too much of a barrier. "So wet, were you this desperate for anyone or me?" he pushed my panties to the side and finally gave my pussy the friction its been screaming for "Oh fuck" as the tip of his finger touched my clit. "Is this for me, Ellie?" he asked. "Yes," I let out in a half-moan. Releasing his touch, "What did I tell you? Tell me". I wanted to cry in that moment "Yes its for you, now fucking touch me!" he put his finger back on my clit and began slow circles.

"I only give release to good girls," he says. "Oh, you are one of those," I breathed out. "You are a brat. I'm going to have fun with you." I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. He slowly circled my clit and it was torture. Applying more pressure around my neck with his one hand, he took his finger off my clit and inserted a finger into my pussy. I threw my head back and moaned. "Look at me, do not stop looking at me. I want to see the pleasure on your face, you understand?" he demanded with his scary voice. The only thing I could get out was "ok". Pumping his finger in and out of me, "Oh, not so chatty all of a sudden?"

My hips thrusted, fucking his finger in tandem, my orgasm building when he stopped. "What the fuck?" I yelled out. "I didn't say you could cum yet" he said. My breath heavy, my breast are going to burst out of this dress, why am I still wearing this fucking dress, why does he still have his suit on? His finger made his way back to my clit. More pressure squeezing on my neck, more pressure circling my clit. The urge to look anywhere and scream was strong, for a second I almost did but I looked back at him "Oh fuck Clay, fuck I cant take this" i plead to him. "Good girl, you can cum now"

On the brink of an orgasm, building higher than I have ever felt before, breathing heavy, my chest rising. I wanted my breasts out, I wanted him sucking on my nipples, they needed attention at this moment. "Oh god," I shifted my body weight and unzipped the back of my dress, pulling the top part down. Exposing my chest, I felt less restricted. Riding his fingers, "Cum for me, I want to feel you cum all over my hand".

My body trembled, my thighs clenched together, and everything else disappeared around me. I tried looking elsewhere, but he forced me to look at him as pure pleasure exploded throughout my body. My back arching, my pussy clenched around his fingers, he didn't stop, his thumb continued to circle my clit, faster and I couldn't handle it. I went to grab his hand, and he fought me. Moans came out of me that I have never released before, "God, Clay, Ooh fuck". "I don't believe in god" was all he said. He slowed the movement of circling my clit and my body continued to twitch

His eyes never left mine, he removed his hand from my pussy and I wanted to cry out. I wanted him to leave it there, I wanted him to do it again. I have never come this hard in my entire life. He took his fingers, the tip of his tongue, and licked them. "I knew you would taste fucking good". Taking the same fingers, he put them in my mouth, making me taste myself, and put his fingers down my throat.

Once he removed his fingers, "We have too many clothes on," I said. He took a knife from his belt and cut off my dress "What the fuck, that was my lucky dress". Closing the knife and putting it back, "Not anymore, you're never wearing that dress to pick up strangers again". Sitting on the counter, breasts exposed, panties soaked from coming so hard. He lifted me, I wrapped my legs around him and I could feel his hard cock against my pussy. I wanted friction; I tried to ride him.

He kissed me, hot and heavy, hands in my hair. Pulling my head back to open myself up for a deeper kiss. Carrying me to my room, he dropped me onto my bed, taking his shirt off to reveal his muscular body covered in tattoos. I wanted to trace all of them. Taking off his pants, removing his boxers to reveal his big hard cock. I wanted it in my mouth. I scooted to the edge of the bed and signaled him to come closer.

"Your turn," I murmured, sliding off the bed to my knees. Clay blinked down at me, still shirtless, his cock flushed and thick in front of me. "Ellie, " I cut him off. "Don't even start. I want this." My fingers wrapped around the base, and his breath caught. "You made me stay in. This is all I wanted all night." I ran my tongue along the underside, slow and deliberate, tracing every ridge, watching his abs tense. I licked the tip, letting my breath ghost over him, and smirked when his hips twitched.

"You're playing with fire, brat," he growled. "Then burn me," I said dripping with I don't give a fuck. I took him into my mouth, slow at first. Teasing just the tip of his head. Just feeling him over my lips again and again. Then deeper, letting my lips stretch. Taking my hand to go up and down with my mouth, taking him in more and more each time, letting my throat open. One of his hands tangled in my hair, holding but not forcing. Yet.

"Fuck... just like that," he muttered, voice tight. "God, your mouth." I moaned around him, and he lost it. His hand tightened. He rocked his hips forward, and I let him. Gagged once, blinked up at him, and saw the moment he snapped. "Don't stop," he ordered, voice rough, dark. "Take it. You wanted this, now fucking take it."

My hands gripped his thighs as he thrust into my mouth, slow but firm. I let drool spill, messy and filthy. He looked feral, head tipped back, jaw clenched. "You look so good on your knees for me." I shoved his cock deeper, needing to feel him at the back of my throat. I held him there for a few seconds, daring myself not to break "Oh fuck, Its like that?" he cried out. I released his cock from my mouth, drool and spit all over my face. I made sure to rub it all over his cock. Eyes watering, I wrapped my lips around him again, letting him fuck my throat with reckless force.

"I'm going to mark your fucking throat" as he thrust in and out, fucking my face. He pulled out just before he came, groaning as thick ropes painted my tongue. He didn't give me time to wipe it away. Looking down at me, still on my knees, his hand caught my chin. "Open." I obeyed. "Swallow it." I did. "Good girl." Then he leaned down and kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to survive. His fingers trembled slightly at my jaw, like he hadn't expected to lose control.

He didn't speak as he stood, towering over me, breathing raggedly. His eyes scanned my face, the mess he'd made of it. Spit slicking my lips, make-up running down my face, my chest rising and falling like I'd run a marathon. "Get on the bed." My legs shook as I climbed up, still in nothing but my panties. He followed like a storm cloud.

He climbed onto the bed, strong arms caging me in. His body blanketed mine, hot and harrowing and everywhere. "You're not in charge now, Ellie," he murmured against my throat, dragging his cock between my folds, not pushing in, just teasing, slicking himself in my wetness. "Don't forget, You don't cum again unless I say. You understand?" I nodded, breath hitching. "Say it." "I understand," I whispered. "Good girl." Then he pushed in slowly. Stretching me inch by inch, filling me until I couldn't think, breathe, or remember my name.

I gasped, arching against him as he filled me, deeper than I thought possible. My hands scrambled up his back, digging into his shoulders as his hips rolled forward, bottoming out. I couldn't hold back the moan that slipped out, loud and needy. "Fuck," he groaned, grinding his hips against mine. "So tight for me. You were made for this."

I couldn't think, couldn't speak. Just the feel of him stretching me, the heat pulsing through my body, the way he looked down at me like I was his to ruin, it was all too much. He started to move, slow at first, deliberate, like he wanted to make me feel every inch of him. "Eyes on me," he demanded, gripping my jaw and forcing my gaze up. "Don't look away. I want to see your face when you fall apart." I locked eyes with him, my chest rising with every breathless whimper. The rhythm of his thrusts deepened, dragging pleasure from places inside me I didn't know could feel this good.

My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, needing more, needing closer. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, filthy and raw. "Clay..." My voice broke, my hands gripping his hair. "Please." "Not yet." He shifted, adjusting his angle until he hit that spot that made my vision white. My nails scraped down his back, and I choked on a cry. "There?" he asked, voice smug, his lips brushing my ear. "Yes—fuck—yes!" "That's my girl."

He fucked me harder now, the bed creaking beneath us. I felt myself spiraling, every muscle tensing, every nerve on fire. My orgasm built with frightening speed, and I tried to hold on, but my body was already gone. "Clay—I can't—" "Yes, you can. You're going to take it. You're going to cum for me, and you're going to look at me when you do." My body broke.

My orgasm slammed into me, my back arched, and a guttural moan ripped from my throat. I clung to him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded, the world spinning around me. I swore I saw stars. He didn't stop. He kept moving, riding out every pulse of my release. "Good fucking girl," he breathed. "God, you feel like heaven." And then he kissed me — slow this time, reverent, like I was more than just his boss's daughter. Like I was his.

"Come here." His voice was rough, already recovering from the first round, but his eyes burned like he hadn't had enough. I barely had time to breathe before he pulled me on top of him, settling me on his lap, cock already hard again between us. "You wanted control, right?" he rasped. "Then ride me, Ellie."

The challenge in his tone made my whole body tighten. I straddled him, thighs still shaky, but he didn't care. His hands slid to my hips, guiding me as I lined him up. The second I sank down, we both gasped. "Fuck—" I whimpered, adjusting to the fullness. He didn't let me ease into it. His fingers dug into my hips, dragging me down hard, forcing every inch inside. "No teasing. Take it. All of it."

I rocked my hips, slowly at first, moaning as the angle hit deeper than before. He met me with each grind, bruising grip anchoring me in place. "You like this?" he growled, eyes locked on where our bodies met. "You want to ride me? Then ride me like you mean it." I started moving faster, more confident now, chasing that delicious friction. But no matter how wild I got, his hands stayed locked on my hips, keeping me in his rhythm.

"You feel that?" he said through clenched teeth. "You feel how my cock owns you?" I moaned, nails scraping down his chest. "These hips?" His fingers dug in tighter. "They're mine." I cried out as he lifted me slightly and slammed me back down on him. "Say it," he demanded. "Yours," I gasped. "I'm yours." "Damn right you are." I lost myself to the rhythm, to his cock, to the bruising grip that would mark me tomorrow and remind me who I belonged to. I'd wear them like fingerprints. Like a brand.

My body clenched again, and I rode him harder, faster, chasing another high I didn't think I had left in me. "Clay—I'm gonna—" "Do it," he snarled. "Cum on my cock. Let everyone know who made you fall apart." My orgasm slammed into me mid-thrust, my body convulsing, mouth falling open in a silent scream. I gripped his shoulders like my life depended on it. He let go then, thrusting up into me as I clenched around him. "Fuck—Ellie—"

When I finally collapsed on his chest, he rolled me over on my back. My orgasm still rippled through me, but Clay didn't slow. If anything, he thrust deeper now, like he wanted to brand the memory of this inside me. "Clay—" My voice cracked, breathless. "I can't—" "You can. You will," he growled. "I'm not done with you."

I whimpered as he pressed my thighs farther apart, hips grinding into me with rough, relentless force. My body was already twitching, raw and hypersensitive, but the friction... God, it was unbearable in the best way. "You take me so fucking well," he muttered, sweat dripping from his temple. "Your pussy's still clenching me like you're begging for more."

His thumb returned to my clit and began circling again. "Oh my god—Clay!" My voice shattered as the pressure exploded again, faster this time, harder. I thrashed beneath him, gripping the sheets, crying out with no shame left in me. "Look at you..." he breathed. "You're wrecked. All for me." I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. He felt too good. I was too full. Too gone.

His thrusts grew erratic, rougher, needier. One hand gripped my hip, the other braced beside my head. "Fuck, I'm close," he groaned. "Where do you want it?" "Inside," I gasped before I could even think. "Clay, please—inside." That did it. His jaw locked, his whole body tensed as he buried himself deep with one final thrust. He came hard, cursing against my skin as his cock pulsed inside me. I felt him fill me — hot, thick, possessive. It made me clench all over again.

He collapsed onto his elbows, caging me in, breath heavy and raw in my ear. "Fuck..." he muttered again, voice barely human. "You're fucking mine now, Ellie." I was too spent to argue — not that I wanted to. His hand moved down, gently smoothing my hair from my damp forehead. I blinked up at him, dazed and trembling. "You okay?" he asked, tone finally softening. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah. I just... I've never..." "I know." He kissed my temple. "You don't have to say it."

The room was spinning. Not in a bad way, more like everything had been stripped bare: my thoughts, body, and pride. I was sprawled across Clay's chest, our slick skin stuck together, my breathing shallow and shaky.

He didn't move, didn't speak. One hand ran down the curve of my spine, slow and grounding. The other stayed gripped on my hip — not tight now, just resting where he'd bruised me. I could already feel the ache blooming beneath his fingertips. A bruise he'd given me. A bruise I wanted.

I laughed. I didn't mean to, but the sound slipped out — half-crazy, half-relieved. Adrenaline and endorphins colliding in the space where shame used to live. He shifted beneath me. "Did I hurt you?" His voice was rough again, but not from sex — from guilt. I pushed myself up on my elbows, hair sticking to my face. "Only in the best way." His jaw flexed. I saw him scanning my body for damage like he was the medic, not the threat.

"I'm fine," I added. "Better than fine." A long silence stretched between us. "This was supposed to be a one-night rebellion," I whispered, voice cracking more than I wanted. "I was supposed to sneak out, blow off steam, find a stranger, and... you know. Get wrecked on my terms." His eyes locked with mine, unreadable. "You weren't supposed to be part of that plan."

"I wasn't a stranger," he said. "No." I swallowed hard. "You're worse." A flicker of a smirk crossed his face. "Worse?" "You work for my father. You know all my shit. You carry a gun and break tires and fuck like—like that."

He didn't respond. Just reached over to the nightstand, grabbed a rag, and gently cleaned between my legs. He was so careful that it made my throat tighten. When he was done, he pulled one of his black T-shirts from the floor and slipped it over my head like I was fragile. It smelled like him. Soap, sweat, and something darker. He pulled me into his chest. I melted without protest, curling into him like it was instinct. He kissed the top of my head, breathing slowly and heavily. I wasn't used to this; I wasn't used to a man taking care of me like this. "You're mine now," he said softly. I should've pushed back. I should've rolled my eyes, laughed, or thrown out some smart-ass comment, but instead, I said, "I know.

I stayed quiet for a long time, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Clay?" I whispered. "Hmm?" he responded. "How long?" I asked. He shifted slightly, like he knew exactly what I meant. "How long have you felt this way?" I asked. "About me?" His silence was answer enough. I lifted my head, stared up at him in the dark. "I mean, yeah, you've been assigned to guard me, follow me around, drag me out of Ubers and fuck me into the mattress... but how long have you been watching me like this?"

He didn't blink. "Since the first week I was assigned to you." My stomach flipped. "What?" He exhaled through his nose. "You came out of your apartment barefoot, holding a coffee cup and yelling at a pigeon for stealing your muffin." "...Seriously?" "You were wearing a giant hoodie that said F—Off I'm Tired, and your hair was messy. And I swear to God, I'd never wanted anyone so fucking bad." I laughed, but there was heat behind it. "So you've just... wanted me all this time? Silently? Like a psycho?" "Yes." He said it without hesitation. No shame.

"You didn't say anything," I whispered. "You acted like I was a job." "Because I am a job. Because you're off-limits. Because your father would kill me. Because you deserve better than someone like me." He sat up slightly, jaw clenched. "I've kept my distance. I've done everything by the book. I've guarded your body. Protected your life. But that doesn't mean I haven't been watching." I swallowed hard, something primal stirring in my chest.

"So what changed?" "You climbed out that window tonight." His eyes met mine. "And I snapped. I walked into your apartment and you weren't there." His voice dropped, rougher than I'd heard it all night. "The window was open. Your bed was empty. I thought someone took you. I thought I failed." I swallowed. "You thought I was gone?" "I went cold," he whispered. "I didn't even feel panic. I felt rage. I've never wanted to kill someone so badly, and I didn't even know who I was about to hunt." His grip tightened slightly around my waist.

"Then I saw you, standing on that fucking fire escape like it was a game. And all I could think was: if anyone ever touches her before I do, I'll end them." I opened my mouth, then closed it. There was nothing to say. I'd wanted to be claimed tonight. I just hadn't realized who I wanted to do it. "If I had told you before," he added, voice lower now, "you wouldn't have believed me." "You're right," I whispered. He leaned down and kissed my temple, rough hand sliding down to squeeze my marked hip. "But you believe me now."

My phone buzzed against the sheets. I groaned and reached blindly for it, only to find Clay grabbing it before I could. He looked at the screen. "Sarah." "Oh god." I buried my face in his chest. He opened the message and read it out loud in a deadpan voice: "WHERE TF DID YOU GO??? Did you DIE??" I groaned louder.

Clay chuckled, setting the phone on the nightstand. "Should I text her back for you? Something subtle, like 'she's recovering from being absolutely fucking ruined?'" I smacked his chest, which only made him grin more. He rolled, shifting me beneath him again, and dragged the hem of his shirt up my thighs. "I meant it, you know." "Meant what?"

He kissed the bruise blooming on my hip. "This." I swallowed. "I don't share, Ellie. I don't do one-night stands. I don't let someone ride my cock and walk away." His lips brushed the mark he'd left on my skin. "You're mine. That's not a line. That's a fact." I should've said no. I should've warned him that I ruin everything I touch. That being with me meant dealing with my father, with the mafia, with chaos. But instead, I reached for him again.

Hours later, I was tucked against his chest, half-asleep, legs sore, heart a mess. I stared at the ceiling and whispered, "You're going to get me in so much trouble." He didn't miss a beat. "Then I guess I'll have to fuck the fear out of you again." I rolled my eyes. "You think you're so smooth." "No," he said, brushing my hair from my eyes. "I think I'm the only one who sees you clearly." I didn't know what to say to that. So I said nothing. He leaned down and kissed my hip again, right where the bruise was darkening. "You're mine," he whispered. "And now everyone else will know it too."

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