A Killer Smile In The Cage
# Arlo & Briar The whiskey was cheap and tasted like regret. Briar slammed the empty glass on the sticky bar top, the sound swallowed by the thrum of bass and human noise. Two years gone. Her apartment keys, useless now. The severance pack
Chapter 1
The whiskey was cheap and tasted like regret. Briar slammed the empty glass on the sticky bar top, the sound swallowed by the thrum of bass and human noise. Two years gone. Her apartment keys, useless now. The severance package, already spent. She signaled for another. The bartender, a man with tired eyes, poured without comment.
Three shots later, the edges of the room blurred. She switched to neat whiskey, the burn a familiar ghost down her throat. Her reflection in the mirror behind the bottles was a stranger—a tall woman with blond hair falling loose around shoulders that felt too heavy, hazel eyes glazed with a defiance she didn’t truly possess. The dimples in her cheeks, usually a sign of laughter, were just hollows now.
He watched her from a shadowed corner.
Arlo’s presence was a quiet gravitational pull. Tall, broad-shouldered, the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up to reveal intricate tattoos winding over muscular, dark-skinned arms. His brown hair, streaked with blond, was cut sharp. Blue eyes, calm and assessing, tracked her movements. She was a storm contained in a human form, drinking like she wanted to drown the world.
When he finally moved, the space around him seemed to tighten. He slid onto the stool next to her, his body heat a sudden, solid reality against the bar’s chill.
“You’re going to hate tomorrow,” he said, his voice low, a rumble that cut through the music.
Briar turned, her gaze sharp with alcohol and anger. “What’s it to you?”
A faint, killer smile touched his lips. “Just an observation.”
She snorted, ordered another. He didn’t move. Hours dissolved. The rude edge of her words softened into something else—a sharp, playful banter. He matched her, his confidence an unshakable wall. He told her nothing about himself, but his eyes never left her face, reading every flicker of emotion.
The bar was packed, bodies pressing close. The air grew thick with sweat and desire.
“This place is a cage,” Arlo stated, leaning in. His scent was clean, masculine. “My apartment is quiet. It has a view.”
She studied him—the serious set of his jaw, the dominant stillness in his posture. A reckless thrill, hot and urgent, pulsed in her veins. To forget. To feel something other than this hollow ache.
“Yes,” she said, the word a surrender and a challenge.
The Uber was a dark, moving box. As the city lights slid past the windows, her hand found his thigh. The muscle was hard under her palm. He turned his head, and his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck—not a kiss, but a promise.
She gasped, the sound soft and involuntary.
Her fingers drifted higher, tracing the seam of his jeans until she found the thick, unmistakable ridge beneath. She rubbed, her touch growing bold. The size of him was startling, a daunting reality under denim.
His breath hitched. He leaned close, his mouth near her ear, and the whisper was pure, unfiltered heat.
“When we get inside, I’m going to bend you over the couch and
Chapter 2
The loft door clicked shut, sealing them in a world of polished concrete and city-light views. Briar didn't let him turn on a lamp. She pushed him against the door, her mouth finding his in a hungry, whiskey-tinged kiss. Her fingers were frantic at his belt, then the button of his jeans, the zipper a loud rip in the quiet dark.
She shoved the denim down his hips and her breath caught. “Jesus.”
Arlo grinned, a flash of white in the shadows. Her hand closed around him, the sheer size and heat of his cock a visceral shock against her palm. The metal of his piercing was cool under her thumb.
“I think,” she said, her voice rough, “this can make me forget.”
She sank to her knees on the hard floor.
The first touch of her tongue to the broad head made his stomach muscles clench. A low groan vibrated in his chest. She took him into her mouth slowly, stretching her lips around his girth, the salty taste of him flooding her senses. Her hazel eyes, glazed with intent, looked up at him. One of his hands came down to cradle her head, his fingers threading through her blond hair, not forcing, just holding.
She worked him with a desperate focus, one hand stroking the base he couldn’t yet take. The other drifted between her own legs, rubbing hard over her jeans where her pierced clit throbbed with each suck and slide. She moaned around him, the vibration drawing a sharper gasp from his lips.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick. “Use me. Forget everything but this.”
His words lit a fuse inside her. Her movements grew more fervent, taking him deeper, her throat relaxing to accept more of his length. The world narrowed to this: the weight on her tongue, the grip in her hair, the building pressure between her own thighs. She was adrift in sensation, a storm of want drowning out the echoes of failure and loss. For the first time in weeks, she felt utterly, perfectly full.
Chapter 3
The words ripped from her throat with the last of her pride. “Fuck me. Fuck me like a dirty whore.”
Arlo didn’t hesitate. He pulled his cock from her mouth, the cool air a shock against his wet skin. In one fluid motion, he hauled her up by the arm and turned her toward the dark silhouette of the couch. He bent her over the back of it, the leather cool against her flushed stomach, and yanked her jeans and panties down to her knees in one rough pull.
The night air kissed her exposed skin. His fingers slid through her wet folds, gathering the slickness there. “Look at this,” he growled, bringing his glistening fingers to her line of sight. “You’re so wet already. You like being used like a whore.”
“Yes,” she gasped, pushing her ass back in desperate invitation. “I’m your dirty whore. Now fuck me like one.”
The sharp crack of his palm against her ass cheek echoed in the loft, a bright sting that made her cry out and clench around nothing. Then she felt him, the broad, blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance. He pushed in slowly, an inexorable stretch that stole the air from her lungs.
Her body fought to accommodate him, burning with a delicious, overwhelming fullness.
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Chapter 4
He withdrew from her with a slick pop, leaving her trembling and empty against the leather couch. Her breath came in ragged pants. Before she could protest, he gripped her hips and spun her around.
His blue eyes were dark pools of pure dominance. “We’re not done.”
He pulled her jeans and panties all the way off, then dragged her, stumbling and naked from the waist down, across the cool concrete floor toward the hallway. The city lights cast long, stark shadows. He pinned her against the wall, the hard surface cool against her bare back. His body was a furnace pressed against her front.
He captured her mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. When he pulled back, his lips brushed her ear. “I’m going to make you forget every man who ever touched you before,” he whispered, the words a dark vow. “You won’t remember their names. You won’t remember how they felt. All you’ll know is me.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. A shiver of pure, electric submission ran through her.
He leaned back, his gaze dropping to his cock, still glistening from her mouth and her body. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Use your mouth on me. Right here.”
The raw command, the exhibitionist thrill of being on display in the open hallway, sent a fresh flood of wetness between her legs. She sank down without a word, the hard floor biting into her knees.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide. Her pierced clit throbbed in time with her pulse. She took him in her hand first, feeling the impressive weight, the cool metal of his piercing. Then she leaned forward and took the broad head into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge.
“That’s it,” he growled above her, one hand tangling in her hair. “Show me how a good whore sucks cock. Show me you want to forget.”
She moaned, the vibration traveling through him. She worked him deeper, using her hand to stroke what her mouth couldn’t yet take. Her other hand drifted between her own legs, her fingers finding her swollen, dripping pussy. She rubbed her pierced clit in frantic circles as she bobbed her head, the dual sensations pulling a ragged cry from her throat around his shaft.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunted, his hips giving a slight, involuntary push. “Touch yourself. Get yourself wetter for me. I’m not finished with this pussy tonight.”
Chapter 5
His hand tightened in her hair, a clear command to stop. A shudder ran through him as he pulled his slick cock from her mouth. The loss made her whimper, her lips swollen and glistening.
“On your feet,” he ordered, his voice thick with restrained power.
He guided her up, then turned her to face the wall. His hands were on her shoulders, pressing her forward until her cheek was against the cool drywall, her arms splayed for balance.
“Stay.”
She heard him step away, the sound of a drawer opening. When he returned, the cool, slippery slide of lube being smoothed over his length made her clench in anticipation. He pressed against her, the broad head of his cock finding a new, forbidden place between her cheeks.
“This is what you really want to forget with, isn’t it?” His breath was hot on her neck as he pushed forward with steady, inexorable pressure.
The initial stretch was breathtaking, a white-hot invasion that forced a choked cry from her throat. He held still, letting her body adjust to the overwhelming fullness, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
“So tight,” he gritted out, the words vibrating against her skin. “Taking every inch like a good little whore.”
He began to move, slow and deep at first, each withdrawal and return stoking the fire in her core. Her pierced clit throbbed against the wall with every impact. The filthy praise spilled from him, each filthy word another layer of paint over the memories she was trying to bury.
“That’s it. Let it go. There’s no job here. No ex. Just my cock wrecking this perfect ass.”
He picked up the pace, his hips snapping harder, driving her higher up the wall with each thrust. The slap of skin on skin filled the hallway. She was moaning uncontrollably now, one hand scrambling against the wall, the other diving between her legs to rub frantic circles around her aching clit.
The pleasure was a coiled spring inside her, winding tighter and tighter with every brutal stroke. She could feel him everywhere—in the heat spreading through her belly, in the delicious burn where their bodies joined, in the dominion of his voice washing everything else away.