Read Hell To Pay Online

Authors: Marc Cabot

Hell To Pay

Hell to Pay

 

Marc Cabot

 

Copyright Marc Cabot 2012

Cover Photo © StMarc @
unspeakabledreams.com
, used under license.

Published by Unspeakable Publications

 

Books by Marc Cabot

Visit
http://www.dreamsofcontrol.com
for more information and for purchase links!

 

Dreams of Control
Erotic Mind Control Books

 

A Matter of Trust

 

And All His Heart’s Desires

 

At His Discretion

 

Awakening

 

Caught In His Web

 

His Lucky Break

 

Maestro*

 

On a Roll

 

The Shape of Her Desires

 

The Ultimate Icebreaker

 

Better Loving Through Chemistry: A Dreams of Control Anthology*

 

Love Spells: Three Dreams of Control*

 

* Also available in Trade Paperback

 

 

Other Books

 

The Reunion

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CHAPTER ONE
An Unexpected Interruption

 

 

 

 

 

Simon Marshall was screwing his way across Eastern Europe when it happened.

 

Mostly, it was something to do. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, of course. And he fit in there better than most places, with his pale skin, bright blue eyes, and shock of white-blond hair. Tall, trim and muscular, he’d always been lucky with women. He’d always been lucky with most things, in fact. He was smart, he was funny, and his family had money. He was more or less the perfect catch, which is why he tried so hard not to be caught.  He had a roving eye and a roving heart and settling down at anything, or with anyone, sounded like a fate worse than death to him.

He’d rented an apartment in Prague for about a year. While he hadn’t studied anything all that practical in school, he’d always had a gift for languages - the exclusive private academies his parents had insisted he attend had taught him Latin, French, and German, and he was picking up Czech. He didn’t need it that much, as a lot of the population of a major European city was guaranteed to speak at least a little English. But it was nice to understand what was going on.

At twenty-five, Simon was guaranteed a substantial income from his family’s trust for the rest of his life. He dabbled in writing and photography, and he was really quite good at both of them. But mostly what he did was go around having a good time. Someday he’d bite that bullet and settle down, raise an heir for the family, but not just yet, not just yet. There were so many lovely ladies who just couldn’t resist tall, handsome Simon, with his looks and his wit and his pocket full of money. Why not enjoy it while he could?

 

#

 

“Mé jméno je Irena!” she shouted with a bright smile on her red lips. Her hair was black as pitch but her skin was pale as Simon’s own. She’d locked in on him like a falcon stooping on a rabbit the minute she’d entered the club. He wasn’t putting up much of a fight. She was
very
pretty, slender like so many Eastern European girls, but with a nice chest. He approved.

“Já jsem Simon!” he yelled back in his best Czech. The music was blaring and the crowd was seething. “My name’s Irena” and “I’m Simon” was about the limit of conversational depth possible.

Her eyes lit up. In a heavy accent she said, “American?”

He nodded. “My Czech is that bad?”

Irena laughed with a huge smile. “No, no, is good. But I speak English!”

“Your English is better than my Czech. Let’s talk English!”

With another laugh she said. “You like Prague, Simon from America?”

Simon laughed back. “Prague is awesome. Good food, good beer, pretty girls. What is not to like?”

“You are nice man, Simon. Will you dance with me?” Her eyes were sparkling.

“Love to! Let’s go!” He took her hand and they moved away from the bar where he’d been nursing a beer and looking over the crowd onto the dance floor.

My lucky night. Luckier than usual, anyway.
Simon rarely wanted for company but having a gorgeous girl who spoke English fall in his lap like this was even better than he had bargained for. It was hard to tell in the flashing light and under the makeup but she looked like she was even roughly the right age - and definitely not jailbait, which you had to watch sometimes.

They started dancing to the heavy techno beat. Simon knew the waltz and several other formal dances, but everywhere in the world the young gathered it was mostly about moving with a beat you could feel in your bones. Irena’s body swayed smoothly to the music and soon they were moving like they’d been lovers for years. Simon smelled her hair when they were close. She was very clean. Even modern Europeans sometimes got a little... earthy, and Simon had grown up in blue-blood New York society. He savored her perfume.
I hope she tastes as good as she smells.

One song, then another. Irena pressed against him with her slender body, warm under a thin black dress. It was a beautiful early summer night but the club was filled with bodies and soon clean sweat gave her a sheen and made the dress cling. Simon was starting to have trouble moving smoothly without making his erection too obvious.

Irena whirled and pressed her back into him. She rolled her hips and hiding his erection was no longer an option. It didn’t seem to bother her: she just ground into him a little harder. Encouraged, he put his arms around her and pulled her to him, still swaying to the beat. She turned her head and kissed him. She tasted as good as she smelled.

“You are very good dancer, Simon,” she said after breaking it off and smiling at his deep breath. “You feel
nice.
” She pressed her ass into him even harder and he bit off a groan. His expression made her smile wider. She looked...
hungry
.

“You feel
amazing
,” he replied. He pulled her tighter still, every inch of her radiating heat into his body. She closed her eyes and he could feel, more than hear, an
mmmmm
of pleasure.

“You are strong. I like strong men.” She opened her eyes and looked at him with a hint of challenge. “You come home with me, show me how strong you are?”

“Absolutely!” Simon was no fool: if she took him somewhere iffy, or tried to slip him something, he would be gone like a shot. But what was the use of being young, handsome and rich if you didn’t take a risk now and again? He squeezed her in his arms, hard, and she stretched like a cat, luxuriating in his strength.

“My apartment is close,” she said. “Let’s go!” She kissed him again, a teasing little peck, and then started to pull him toward the door. He followed willingly and they slipped into the summer night.

Once outside, they paused for another kiss, Simon pressing Irena into the brick wall of the building and her hands roaming over his back, fingernails dragging. She tasted like wine and smelled just as intoxicating. He ran a hand up and down her side, stroking her breast in passing. She made a little
mmm
sound but pushed him away.

“You are good kisser, but I don’t like people watching,” she said with a sly smile. “I will show you many things when we are alone.”

“Sounds good.” He let her pull away, still holding his hand and walking him a few blocks down the street and around a corner. The club was in a good neighborhood and she wasn’t going in the direction of any of the really seedy areas nearby.
So far, so good
.

After a few more minutes of walking, and quite a bit of good-natured grabbing, they arrived at a charming little block of flats. “Here is home,” said Irena, and opened the door with a key to let them into a stairwell. Then up the stairs, Simon following along and only giving her one little pinch on the behind, which made her giggle.

Her apartment was very spacious for Prague, and nicely furnished. It actually had a separate dining room and living room besides a kitchen.
She’s probably not after money
, he thought before she closed the door and gave him a really
serious
kiss. After that Simon would have had to have seen an accomplice with a blackjack before being too worried about anything but getting into her pants.

Now that there was no one to see Simon let his hands roam over her and slide down to her ass, squeezing firmly and pulling her body to his as they kissed. Her mouth was hot and insistent, her tongue dancing over his lips and her boldness almost stealing his breath away.

She shoved him toward a closed door and fumbled with the knob, only half breaking off the kisses and caresses, then slipped them both through. There was a huge bed in the room and she pushed him over onto it. He smiled up at her, bemused.

“You’re a girl who knows what she wants, Irena.”

“I want
you
, Simon” came a low, raspy reply. “Take off your clothes.”

He fumbled in the dim light from the half-open hall doorway, until she lit a red candle and set it on a chest of drawers. She picked up a white candle and a black one and lit them from the red one, spacing them on two little tables on either side of the bed. Now that he had some light he got his clothes off quickly and threw them on the floor next to his shoes. Dry cleaning was cheap and the game was afoot.

After lighting the candles. Irena had slipped her dress over her head, revealing lingerie right out of a pinup calendar - matching bra and lace panties, with thigh-high stockings clinging to her long, slender legs. She watched him squirm out of his clothes with amusement, then stood next to the bed looking down at him.

“You are
very
handsome man, Simon. I am going to like this.” He started to sit up, but she waved him to lie back, and took her bra off as smooth as any burlesque queen, slipping her arms behind her back and undoing it without ever taking her eyes from his face. He was transfixed as she let it slide gently to the floor. Her breasts were firm and topped with dark nipples stark against her fair skin. He could feel his mouth watering with the anticipation of tasting them.

Next she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down so slowly that Simon’s cock was actively aching by the time they were halfway down her thighs. Her smile was growing wider and hotter but her eyes never left his. He couldn’t have looked away to save his life. With a quick shove she let the panties join the bra on the floor.

“You like stockings, Simon?” He nodded. His head felt very heavy and just the effort of shaking it made him feel weak. She laughed a silvery little laugh and left the stockings on, climbing into the bed between his feet. He tried to reach for her again, but he could barely lift his arms and she shook her head with a naughty look.

“I will take care of you, Simon,” she said as she put her hand on his cock and he groaned with tension and anticipation. “You just be still.”  Her fingers wrapped around him lightly and began to stroke. It was slow, in time with his breathing. She squeezed lightly, then relaxed with each stroke. After a minute, she slowed down even more, and his breathing slowed down to match. Each rise and fall of her hand seemed to take hours and her eyes were huge in Simon’s sight.

Eventually she lifted her knees over either side of him and brought her pussy up next to his cock. Her hair was dark and silky and she pressed him into it, sliding his cock back and forth against her softness. Her skin was hot and another wave of pleasure flowed over him. It was pressing down on him as if he were lying at the bottom of a pool of water.

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