Chapter 3: Andrew's hand is tight around Cathryn's throat as he thrusts upward, his cock pistoning in and out of her well-used cunt. 'Tell Lyka how much you loved taking that bartender's fat dick in your ass,' he growls, his other hand pinching her nipple hard as the car speeds toward their next destination.
The hot shower had been a futile attempt to scrub away the feeling of both men, Andrew and Roy, from her skin. The water had stung the tender flesh between her legs, a constant reminder. Now, wrapped in a simple black dress she hadn't chosen herself, Cathryn sat in the plush, silent backseat of Lyka’s Mercedes. The city lights bled across the tinted windows in smears of gold and white. The engine was a low, expensive hum.
Lyka didn’t speak from the driver’s seat. Her small hands were precise on the leather-wrapped wheel. Her long blonde hair was a pale curtain in the dim light from the dashboard.
The rear passenger door opened, letting in a rush of cool night air. Andrew slid in beside Cathryn, his presence immediately displacing the sterile calm of the car. He carried the scent of his whiskey and his cologne, a familiar combination that now felt threatening.
“Drive around the block,” he told Lyka, his eyes not leaving Cathryn.