Gilded Cage Page 8

  “I don’t do cock rings.” Brandon snatched the package and threw it in the sink. “Tongue tickler. Hmm. You don’t need a tongue tickler. You’ve got me.” He plucked it from Lillian’s hand and flung it into the sink. “Let’s see. Ben Wa balls. Do you even know what they are?”

  “It’s for the ladies to enhance their sexual experience. I read it somewhere in the History of Sex book. The emperor’s concubines in China used these in medieval times.”

  “You’re full of surprises, Lillian.” Brandon closed the bathroom door with his foot and shrugged off his jacket. He was fully armed.

  Lillian watched him take off his guns, holsters and knives, and put them on the bathroom floor. Brandon was a one-man killing machine. It was surprising that he was also tender and passionate in bed. When he pulled his shirt over his head, Lillian couldn’t wait to get her hands on him. She had to. The man was practically sex on a stick.

  “Let’s see.” Brandon pulled down her bathrobe, exposing her naked body. “God, you’re wet.”

  He planted kisses on the side of her jaw and down to her shoulder. Lillian shivered. Her pussy thrummed. Her nipples hardened. Brandon lifted her off the floor and had her sit on the edge of the sink. He felt her while he nipped and licked her neck. She moaned. Each nibble made her toes curl and her pussy clench. Brandon’s rough hand skimmed along her inner thigh and on to the source of her never-ending aches.

  He purred when he found her luxuriously moistened. “I love it when you’re wet like this.”

  “Really?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He spread her legs wider and parted her pussy lips with his fingers.

  Lillian stiffened when he slipped a finger inside her.

  “Sore?” he asked.

  A bit. They had fucked like a pair of crazed rabbits last night, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “No,” she breathed out. “I love it.”

  Brandon slipped in another finger and curled his digits upward, hitting her special spot. Lillian wanted to melt.

  “Oh.” She grabbed his shoulders and clawed him with her fingers. Morsels of pleasure burst out in her depths. “B-Brandon.”

  “You want to come?”

  She nodded.

  He increased the pressure and tickled her G-spot. Lillian squirmed and gasped. The white-hot pleasure sparked like fireworks within her. She gushed juice. Brandon rubbed harder, and suddenly, a hard, knife-sharp orgasm tore through her. Lillian buried her face in the hollow of his throat, her body quaking from the instant climax. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers.

  “There, there, babe. A good one, wasn’t it?”

  Lillian laughed. God, she loved this man. He knew her body better than she knew herself.

  “Now, the balls.” Brandon withdrew his fingers.

  Lillian gave the package to him. He tore it open with impatience. He extracted two glimmering gold-coated metal balls that were connected with a thin gold chain.

  “Hmm, so this is what Ben Wa balls look like.”

  “You mean, you’ve never played with them before?”

  “How often do you think I fuck? No, I’m not into toys.” His eyes drifted up and a wicked smile blossomed. “Maybe I am now, because of you.”

  “I’m a bad influence.”

  “You’re a naughty, little temptress.” Brandon ambushed her with a deep, long kiss. “But I don’t mind.” He felt her pussy. “Not wet enough.”

  “Damn. I knew I should have bought some lube, too.”

  “Lube?” He shot her an offended look. Brandon put the Ben Wa balls in the sink. “What would you ever need lube for? I’ll make you wet, babe.”

  Oh my! Lillian went dizzy when she caught his drift. Brandon knelt in front of the sink and draped her legs over his shoulders. She gripped the ledge of the sink so she wouldn’t fall. Lillian twitched when his hot breath caressed her pussy. Her heart jumped in her ribcage when his lips kissed her wet heat. The nerve-wrecking pleasure returned. He licked her as if he was making out with her pussy, nibbling and twirling his tongue, baptising her with his saliva, fulfilling his promise of making her wet. Lillian flinched, quivered, her brain turning into mush from the overtaxing pleasure. And when he tasted the inside of her cunt, another frustrating sensation, the unbearable need to come, rushed through her. His tongue ventured deeper and deeper. Lillian’s body tensed. She climbed higher. A bit higher. Suddenly, he stopped.

  “Brandon!”

  “Yes?”

  “I was close.”

  He rose and unbuckled his belt. “Not yet. I said I was going to make you wet. I didn’t say you could come.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “Patience, babe.” Brandon pushed his jeans down, then his briefs. His hard cock sprang from his dark thatch. He reached into the sink for the Ben Wa balls and turned on the hot water, washing them. “Lean back a bit.”

  Lillian did what he asked. Her heart thundered as she spread her legs wide, exposing her burning sex to him.

  Brandon petted her pussy, looking satisfied with her wetness. “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  Brandon pushed a ball into her. Lillian bit her lips. Then another. The Ben Wa balls were slightly hot from the water, but it felt strangely pleasurable. They collided against each other as Brandon pushed them deeper inside her. The walls of her pussy squeezed the balls as a reflex and the impact was devastatingly good. They vibrated, sending delicious thrums from her depths.

  “How is it?” Brandon looked curious.

  “Amazing.”

  “Mm.” Brandon grabbed his shaft and positioned his tip at her entrance. He didn’t penetrate her right away, only eddied her wet opening with his cock head. “I’m not wet enough.”

  Lillian wanted to suck him.

  “What are you doing?” He halted her. “Sit still.”

  “I want to make you wet.”

  “There’s many ways to do that. Relax. Lean back.”

  She did. Brandon gripped her hips. Lillian clawed the sink. He pushed back and forth, oiling the length of his shaft with her juice. The sensation was deliciously sinful. The way his hard veined shaft grazed her sensitive pussy lips sent jolts of high voltage pleasure into her spine. He paused to collect her cream and slathered himself generously with it. Her heart pounded in her throat when Brandon finally poised his cock head into her ready opening. He pushed in. Only slightly. His huge cock head speared her open. Lillian hissed. Brandon thrust in another inch. The ring of muscles instinctively clasped around his intruding cock. Another inch. The Ben Wa balls clashed and vibrated. Drawing his breath from his teeth, Brandon thrust in until he’d buried his whole granite-hard erection into her cunt.

  “Ah!” Brandon looked astounded. “I can feel them. Fuck. So hot. Wet.” He eased in and out, small tugs and pushes, causing the pleasure balls inside her to thrum incessantly. “Oh fuck, fuck.” He rocked her, wide eyed as if the pleasure was too good to be true.

  Lillian tightened her thighs around his hips and pressed her body against him, feeling a sheer desperation to become one with this man. Her nipples brushed his chest. Her belly on his. His cock penetrated her so deeply, she felt him in places she never knew existed, pulsing and grinding, causing raw, spine-deep sensations of pleasure to explode from her depths.

  Hot. Wickedly mind-bending unadulterated ecstasy.

  And Lillian loved every bit of it.

  Brandon kissed her as he pummelled like an incessant jackhammer, pounding her with short, rapid, ravenous thrusts. He seemed to love fucking her with the metal balls inside her pussy. He palmed her ass, anchoring her as he pistoned in and out faster, harder and rougher.

  Lillian fisted his hair and crushed her lips on his, kissing him greedily. Brandon mauled her back, pushing his tongue into the cavern of her mouth, fucking, plundering her in the same way as his cock plundered her cunt.

  His breath laboured. Hers too. She yowled. He groaned. The opera of whimpers of lust filled the bathroom. Ecstasy climbed in a fevered pitch. Her body shuddered. Li
llian tore her mouth from his. She tensed.

  “B-Brandon…I…”

  “Come for me, babe. Come…” Brandon bucked and thrust harder.

  She cried. “I…”

  He slammed faster.

  Then it hit her. Lillian screamed, climaxing hard. Red and white fireworks burst before her eyes. Exquisite pleasure consumed her whole while Brandon pounded twice, thrice into her cunt and orgasmed. His breath seared her cheek. Sweat dripping. Juice gushing. Half-formed words rasped from his mouth as his cock spasmed in her cunt, flooding her with his seed.

  Lillian wanted to collapse after the violent orgasm, but Brandon held her tight while murmuring some endearments that made her feel cherished.

  “Babe.” Brandon found her lips and kissed her deeply.

  She squirmed and tightened her muscles, choking his semi-flaccid cock.

  “Oh shit.” He fidgeted. It seemed he couldn’t stand being squeezed that way.

  She had to do it again.

  Brandon cursed. “Naughty girl.”

  “I am.”

  Brandon pulled out his cock and slipped a finger into her pussy, extracting the Ben Wa balls. The gold metal balls glistened from the juices of their mating. “I’m keeping these.”

  “You can’t use them.” Lillian arched her eyebrows. “Or can you?”

  “Silly girl. They’re for you. These might come in handy if you’re in the mood for a naughty nooner again.”

  “Ah.”

  The sky was dark when he and Lillian entered Roppongi. Since the Yakuza were watching the train stations and other public transportations, Donahue had given them a motorcycle to get around the city. The muggy summer evening air blanketed them, laced with the smell of perfume, cigarettes and the delicious aroma that wafted from the nearby restaurants. The area was famous for its nightlife. The brilliant neon signs and lights from the tall buildings, clubs, cafes and all kind of entertainments establishment, both legal and barely legal, competed against each other to lure patronage from business people who wanted to have after-hours fun with hardcore, scantily clad party girls. Brandon glanced at his watch. It was only six p.m., but the night-goers were already swarming the streets. Roppongi attracted the highest concentration of expatriates in Tokyo, and being gaijin, foreigners, Brandon felt confident they’d blend in well with the general population.

  Lillian gawked at everything as they ditched the bike and walked to Donahue’s place. Brandon felt sorry for her, thinking the best years of her life had been blindly robbed from her. Caged in the family penthouse in Blackwell Tower, with an uncaring father and subjected to Stanford’s abuse without friends she could talk to—not to mention being deprived from basic sustenance—he was surprised that Lillian hadn’t fallen apart. That girl was strong. And she had spunk. She was very curious, too. Brandon loved her curious-cat persona. God, he loved everything about her.

  She squeezed his hand and leaned into his ear. “When we’re in America, can you take me to a club?”

  “Dance club?”

  “Yes. I want to see dance clubs. And barbeque restaurants. Oh, homemade ice cream parlours, too, like I see on the Internet.”

  Food and fun. Why of course. The lady was a cheap date. Brandon grinned. “Sure, babe.”

  “Arigato.”

  Donahue waited for them in the back alley of the coffee shop. He’d got them an SUV with black tinted windows to deter the traffic cameras. His friend had explained that the police used facial recognition software to narrow down wanted lawbreakers. “Ready to rock?”

  “Am I ever?”

  “Good. I got you everything locked and loaded.”

  Brandon craned his neck into the half-drawn SUV’s window. Donahue had arranged for some weapons, too. He saw an automatic rifle and a couple of semi-automatic Berettas stowed in the backseat, complete with extra magazines and hand grenades. Brandon grimaced. The memory of desert war flashed all over again. Donahue was the type of guy who adopted a credo of ‘better safe than sorry.’ He always had condoms and guns on his person at all times. His obsession bordered on a twisted compulsive disorder.

  “Are we expecting a party tonight?” Brandon asked.

  “The Yak issued a bounty for your head. It’s better—”

  “Safe than sorry, yeah, yeah.”

  “Then you’ll need this.” Donahue shoved a ballistic vest into his hands. “I’ve just talked to MacCunnen and he has his men waiting for you on the base. Once you’re there, your ass is covered.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Good luck.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lillian sat quietly in her seat as their car zoomed past the city limits towards Yokohama. Outside her window, the glimmering seashore stretched as far as her eyes could see. Brandon had told her his connection had arranged a way out of Japan through the American naval base in Yokosuka. Instead of taking the major highway, they took scenic routes through small roads to avoid being captured by the traffic cameras. If they had taken a bullet train, the travel itself would have only taken about forty minutes. But since Stanford and his minions had flagged them on high alert, they couldn’t afford to be seen on public transportation. Lillian didn’t mind the detour. Despite the situation they were in, she was excited to see the scenery. The last time she’d travelled this far was when she was seven, and her father had taken her to England to their summer home. The time she’d nearly drowned in the pool.

  Brandon had slipped into his quiet but highly alert mode again. Lillian didn’t dare bother him with small talk, even though she wanted to. The suspense was killing her. He kept glancing at the rear view mirror and the GPS console in the dashboard as if he expected company. Twenty minutes into the ride, he slammed on the gas, speeding ahead.

  Lillian sank lower under her tight seatbelt, clutching onto each side of her seat. Her heart thumped as Brandon drove like a maniac, zigzagging between several cars. Lillian peeked in the rear view mirror. Two black vehicles tailed them at the same speed. They were being followed.

  “Oh, shit,” she mumbled.

  “Hang on tight, Lillian.” Brandon didn’t lose his cool. His face looked as stoic as somebody who was bored attending a Sunday sermon. He changed the shift stick and hit the pedal. The car tore through the intersection.

  Then she heard gunshots.

  “Get down,” Brandon ordered.

  Lillian shrunk in her seat. The mirror on her side exploded. Behind her, shards of glass showered the seat when a stream of bullets hit the back windshield.

  “Fuck.” Brandon revved the engine and blasted the speed.

  She peeked through the dashboard. Her heart sank when she saw two huge black cars that looked like tanks blocking their way.

  “Hold on tight, babe. This is going to be rough.”

  She ducked lower and clawed her seat. Was he mad? Was he going to plough through those cars? Lillian opened one eye, peeking at him. Brandon wasn’t joking. His eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened. His lips thinned into a grim slit. No. He wasn’t joking at all.

  The car accelerated faster. Lillian could feel the vibrations through the seat. Silently, she prayed that they would make it in one piece. Another shower of bullets sang between them. Lillian shut her eyes and prayed harder. She heard Brandon groan and suddenly, he lost control of the car. Tires screeched. They spun. The car hit a hard object and turned upside down. Lillian screamed. The car’s airbags sprang loose and suffocated her.

  She blacked out.

  Lillian coughed. A vicious headache slammed her cranial. She felt weak and shaky as if she’d recovered from a long, nasty cold. The side of her jaw hurt. Her left leg, too. She moved her hands. Fingers. She was fine. But Brandon wasn’t.

  She saw blood oozing from his shoulder. He had been shot and was unconscious from the crash. One side of his face was covered in blood.

  “Brandon!” Lillian shook him. Her heart sank to her guts. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t die. “Brandon.”

  He stirred and coughed.

&n
bsp; “Brandon!” Lillian groped the side of the seat and released the seatbelt. She was trying to yank off his seatbelt when the sound of footsteps echoed against the hard asphalt, coming towards them. Oh no. Panic seized her in full grip. They had to leave now. They…

  Three gunshots tore through the windshield and hit Brandon’s chest.

  “No!” Lillian screamed. They’d killed him. They’d fucking killed him. She struggled to reach over his seat to shield Brandon, but a pair of strong hands yanked her through her broken window. Lillian flailed and cursed. She had to help Brandon before it was too late. She couldn’t let him die.

  She thrashed and cursed as the unknown man dragged her out of the mangled vehicle. Lillian gnashed her teeth, trying to bite off his arm. A hand flew in her direction and pain exploded on her left cheek. Her breath was knocked out of her lungs. She couldn’t breathe for long seconds as the man kept dragging her farther from the wrecked car. When she collected her breath, the man threw her roughly into a car. She landed face down on the carpet, where a gleaming pair of shoes were just an inch away from her forehead. She looked up and felt numb.

  Maxwell Stanford leered at her with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Welcome back, Lillian. My, my, my, pumpkin. You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you?”

  Brandon felt as if tons of boulders had slammed against his chest. Something deep in his mind screeched at him to wake up. His internal alarm. His combat instinct jolted him out of the cloud of haze. Maybe it was the pain that yanked him out of his dream. Brandon instinctively grabbed the source of that burning fire. Instead, sticky, viscous liquid smeared his hand. Blood. His blood.

  It hit him. The bullets had torn through him and made him lose control of the car. He remembered the car had skidded and hit the guardrail.