A Date with Danger

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The text came through just as I was finishing up my lip gloss in the mirror, the buzz of my phone vibrating against the bathroom counter like a warning. *"Wear the dress. No panties. And don’t even think about being late."* I rolled my eyes, but my fingers trembled just a little as I typed back. *"Or what, Daddy? Gonna spank me?"* The dots danced immediately, then stopped. No reply. My stomach flipped. That was never a good sign.

Shawn didn’t play.

I should’ve known better than to push him—especially after the Eric situation. But fuck, I *liked* pushing him. Liked the way his jaw tightened, the way his voice dropped into that low, dangerous register that made my thighs clench. Liked the way he *claimed* me, like I was something precious and breakable and his all at once. Even when he was pissed, even when he was rough, there was always that thread of care woven through it. Like he was afraid if he wasn’t careful, he’d love me too hard.

And god, did I want him to.

The dress was a sin—black, backless, clinging to my curves like a second skin, the neckline dipping just low enough to tease. The lingerie underneath was worse: sheer black lace that barely covered my nipples, the thong so flimsy it might as well have been a suggestion. I slipped into it, the cool fabric making my skin prickle, my breath already coming faster just thinking about how he’d look at me. How he’d *touch* me.

The location he sent was some kind of warehouse on the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that looked abandoned but probably cost a fortune to rent for a night. The Uber dropped me off in front of a heavy metal door, no lights, no signs, just the hum of distant traffic and the weight of my own pulse in my ears. I knocked once. Twice. Nothing.

Then—

A hand clamped over my mouth from behind, thick fingers pressing just hard enough to make my lips part. My body reacted before my brain could catch up, arching back into the warmth of him, the familiar scent of sandalwood and something darker, something *hungry*. Shawn’s breath was hot against my ear, his voice a growl. *"You think this is a game, baby girl?"*

I whimpered, but my pussy betrayed me, already wet, already *aching* for him. His other hand slid down my stomach, fingers digging into the dress just above my mound, possessive, punishing. *"You let that little bitch take you out. Let him *touch* you."* His grip tightened, just shy of painful. *"You think I wouldn’t find out?"*

I tried to turn, but he held me still, his body a wall of muscle behind me. *"No, no, no. You don’t get to look at me yet. You lost that privilege when you spread your legs for *him*."* His fingers dipped lower, tracing the lace edge of my thong before yanking it aside. I gasped as his fingertips grazed my bare pussy, already slick, already *needy*. *"Fuck. Already wet for me, huh? Even after you let him kiss you?"*

My breath hitched. *"I—I didn’t—"*

*"Lie to me again, Imani."* His voice was steel. *"I dare you."*

I swallowed hard. He knew. Of *course* he knew. Shawn missed nothing.

His fingers circled my clit, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing the way my body reacted. *"You’re gonna pay for that, you know."* A sharp slap landed on my ass, the sting radiating through me, making me jump. *"Hands on the door. Ass out."*

I obeyed, bracing myself against the cold metal, pushing my hips back like he wanted. Another slap—harder this time—made me cry out, the sound muffled against his palm still covering my mouth. *"Good girl."* His praise was a dark caress, his fingers slipping inside me without warning, two thick digits stretching me, fucking me slow and deep. *"You like that, don’t you? Like when I remind you who you *belong* to."*

I moaned, my body trembling, my mind already fuzzy with need. He pulled his fingers out, and I whined at the loss, but then he was pressing them against my lips. *"Taste how wet you are for me."* I opened, sucking them clean, my tongue swirling around his skin, savoring the salt of me, the musk of *us*. His groan was low, approving. *"That’s right. *Mine*."*

Then he was gone, his heat disappearing, leaving me cold and aching. The door creaked open behind me, and his hand tangled in my locs, yanking just enough to make my scalp prickle. *"Crawl."*

My knees hit the concrete, the rough texture biting into my skin as I moved forward, his grip on my hair guiding me up a set of stairs. The air was thick with the scent of leather and something metallic—fear, maybe. *Mine*. Because as much as I trusted Shawn, as much as I *wanted* this, there was always that edge of danger with him. The knowledge that he could take me apart and put me back together however he pleased.

And fuck, did I *love* it.

The room at the top of the stairs was dim, lit only by a single lamp in the corner, casting long shadows. My breath caught when I saw Eric tied to a chair in the center, his usual smug expression twisted into something darker. Fear. *Good*. Let him see what happens when you play with what’s not yours.

Shawn’s grip on my hair tightened, forcing my head up. *"Look at him, Imani."* His voice was a dark velvet command. *"Look at the man you thought could give you what I do."*

Eric’s eyes flicked between us, his chest rising and falling too fast. *"Shawn, man, come on—"*

*"Shut the fuck up."* Shawn’s voice was a whip crack. He released my hair, his hands sliding down my arms, pushing the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The fabric pooled at my waist, leaving me bare from the chest up, my nipples hard, my skin flushed. Shawn’s hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples before pinching—just enough to make me gasp. *"You like these, don’t you, Eric?"* He rolled my nipples between his fingers, his touch rough, possessive. *"You liked staring at them when you took her out. Bet you wished you could touch them."*

Eric’s jaw clenched, but his eyes were glued to Shawn’s hands on me. *"I didn’t—"*

*"Lie."* Shawn’s voice was a growl. He leaned down, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue swirling before he bit down—*hard*. I cried out, my back arching, my fingers tangling in his locs. He switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, his free hand sliding down to palm my pussy through the dress. *"You *wanted* her. But she’s *mine*."*

He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my hips as he pressed his face against the damp fabric between my legs, inhaling deep. *"Fuck, baby. You smell so good."* His fingers hooked into the waistband of my thong, yanking it down my legs. *"Step."*

I did, kicking it off, my pulse roaring in my ears as he brought the scrap of lace to his nose, breathing me in before stuffing it into Eric’s mouth. *"There. Now you can *taste* what you’ll never have."* Eric’s muffled protests were drowned out by the sound of Shawn’s zipper, the rustle of his belt hitting the floor.

Shawn stood, his cock already hard, already *leaking*, the tip glistening in the dim light. He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. *"You’re gonna watch him while I fuck you. And you’re gonna *beg* me for it."* His thumb traced my bottom lip. *"Understood?"*

I nodded, my mouth dry, my body *burning*. He turned me around, bending me over the arm of a nearby couch, my ass in the air, my dress hiked up around my waist. His hand came down on my bare skin—*crack*—the sting radiating through me, making me whimper. *"Count."*

*"One,"* I gasped.

Another slap, harder. *"Two!"*

His fingers slid between my legs, gathering my wetness before circling my asshole, pressing just enough to make me tense. *"Relax, baby girl."* His voice was a dark murmur. *"You’re gonna take me so good."*

Then his cock was there, thick and hot, pressing against my entrance. He didn’t tease. Didn’t go slow. He *slammed* into me, filling me in one rough thrust, stretching me, *owning* me. I cried out, my fingers clawing at the couch, my body already trembling around him.

*"Fuck, you feel *perfect*,"* he groaned, his hips snapping forward, his cock hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. *"Look at him, Imani."* His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head up. *"Look at how *hard* he is watching me fuck what’s *mine*."*

I forced my eyes open, locking onto Eric. His cock was straining against his pants, his face flushed, his eyes wide with something like awe. *Disgust*. *Jealousy*. Shawn’s cock pistoned in and out of me, each thrust deeper, harder, his balls slapping against my clit. *"You like that, Eric?"* Shawn’s voice was a dark purr. *"You like watching her take my dick like a *good girl*?"*

Eric’s muffled response was lost under the sound of skin slapping skin, the wet sounds of my pussy gripping Shawn’s cock. Shawn’s free hand slid around my throat, his fingers pressing just enough to make my breath hitch. *"You’re *mine*, Imani."* His voice was a growl in my ear. *"Say it."*

*"Yours,"* I gasped, my body coiling tight, my orgasm building like a storm. *"Only *yours*."*

*"That’s right."* His teeth grazed my shoulder, his cock swelling inside me. *"Now come for me, baby girl. Come on my *dick*."*

His fingers found my clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles, and I *shattered*, my pussy clenching around him, my cry raw and broken. He didn’t stop, fucking me through it, his own release building. *"Fuck—*fuck*—"* His cock pulsed, his cum filling me, hot and thick, marking me, *claiming* me.

Then he was pulling out, his cum dripping down my thighs, his hands turning me around. He dropped to his knees, his mouth crashing against mine, his tongue sweeping in, tasting me, *owning* me. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with promise. *"Now it’s his turn to worship you."*

He lifted me like I weighed nothing, setting me on the couch, my legs spread, my pussy glistening with his cum. Eric’s eyes were wide, his cock still hard, his body straining against the ropes. Shawn gripped his hair, yanking his head forward. *"Clean her up."*

Eric hesitated, but one look at Shawn’s face had him leaning in, his tongue swiping through my folds, lapping up Shawn’s cum, my arousal, his mouth hot and desperate. Shawn watched, his cock already hardening again, his hand wrapping around the base as he stroked himself. *"That’s it. Show her how *sorry* you are."*

Eric’s tongue flicked over my clit, and I moaned, my head falling back. Shawn’s free hand tangled in my hair, his voice a dark command. *"Eyes on me, baby girl."* I obeyed, locking onto him as he stood, his cock level with my mouth. *"Open."*

I did, my tongue swirling around the tip, tasting myself on him, my lips stretching around his girth. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, fucking my mouth slow and deep. *"Fuck, just like that."* His hand tightened in my hair. *"Take it all, baby. *All* of it."*

I relaxed my throat, letting him slide deeper, my nose brushing against his skin. His groan was raw, his cock throbbing. *"Good *girl*."* His voice was strained. *"Fuck, I’m gonna—*" His cum hit the back of my throat, salty and thick, and I swallowed every drop, my pussy clenching around nothing, *needing* him again.

When he pulled out, his eyes were dark with satisfaction. He reached down, gripping Eric’s hair, yanking him back. *"You’re done."* Then, to me: *"Stand up."*

I did, my legs shaking. Shawn’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me against him, his cock already hard again, pressing against my stomach. *"You’re *mine*, Imani."* His voice was a vow. *"No more games."*

I smirked, tilting my head up. *"Or what, Daddy? Gonna spank me again?"*

His hand came down on my ass—*hard*—making me yelp. Then his mouth was on mine, his kiss bruising, possessive. *"Try me, baby girl."*

And fuck, I *would*.