I am on fire.

With the ice inside of me, my body is burning like I am in heat.

"On your knees."

I can't think straight, only watch in horror as Dakota pulls down his track in a swift motion and I gasp. Angry veiny cock springs to life with a round, glistening head.

My mouth gets dry as I stare at his manhood, which is as intimidating as himself.

"Get on your knees, Emara." He takes my name so densely that I couldn't help but drop my knees to his marble floor like I had fallen off my grace.

His hand clutch into my scalp and I gasp as he brings my face closer to his angry looking cock.

He is as thick as my wrist and as long as my hand. Maybe even longer.

No doubt why he behaves so cocky and arrogant. Because he himself is a huge dick!

"Open your mouth.. I am going to turn you into a woman."

A shiver passes through me. His expression changes like someone flipped a coin, and it landed on the dark side.

I can't think straight or sit straight. I twitch, feeling the burning ice in my vagina which is causing me to dither like a fish on hot sand.

I gasp as I feel its tip touching my lips. My heart beats in my throat and I gulp before opening my mouth for him.

"No. First lick me." He dictates like a teacher and my tongue follows his command.

Salty.

He tastes of sin, salt and ardour.

I hear him hiss and I look up. Eyes black like his hair, like his name and the greens are thinned like a ring as he stares at me intensely.

"Again." His hand loosens around my locks as he brings them behind my neck and holds me still against his cock.

This time I do it slowly. I roll my tongue on his round glistening head and he makes a thrilled rasping sound.

"Fuck! Suck me in."

He grips my neck harder and my mouth opens for him. My walls clench around the ice at his deep groan and I moan feeling the cold burn in my pussy.

"Let me feel that throat. Yes!"

His fingers slide into my hair and he pushes my head further on his big dick. I nearly gag at his cock and I hear him take a deep breath of pleasure.

"You look so beautiful with my cock inside your lying mouth."

I look up at him with fear peeking in my eyes. His dark eyes gaze at me devoid of any emotion, except revenge.

I hold a cry in my throat as he pulls out of me and looks at my humiliated face. Ice melts down my legs as I take a dreadful breath and stay on my knees under him.

"Beautiful." He breathes deeply and pushes my head on his throbbing cock again.

"Fucking beautiful!" He growls.

Shame fills in me till the brim and I moan in protest of being used like this. but he holds me by my hair like I am a toy. With every stroke I feel him growing, getting longer, harder, thicker, and hotter.

"Do you know how many women want to be in this position where you are?" His eyes look down at me with primal lust and I feel another clench in between my legs.

A shudder passes through me as I know how lewd I must be looking. Sitting on my knees, sucking him off like a whore, somehow made my vagina clench hotly on that image.

"Do you know how lucky you are?" Dakota whispers, as he touches my ear gently against his hot and hard cock in my mouth. And I moan loudly.

At this moment I do not know if thats ice water melting in between my legs or my own wetness.

And suddenly, he feels good sliding in between my lips and over my tongue. Even his fingers clenching in my hair feel amazing.

I am losing my mind.

I squeeze my wet thighs in growing excitement. My groans change from the sound of protest to moans of desire.

Dakota's eyes changes colour. The greens suddenly overpowers over the black as his eyes dilate at me wildly.

I couldn't look away. His eyes look down at me with so much passion. Not anger, but lust. Sheer masculine hunger reeks from him and I couldn't look away from his captivating eyes.

Am I falling for another dickhead guy?

"Emara.." He moans my name in a whisper and I could feel shivers down to hell.

Suddenly I feel his cock throb and lurch in my mouth, and then I feel spurt of molten jizz spewing down my throat. He immediately pulls out and jerks his hot cream on my chest.

Not really chest. But on the front of my bathrobe.

I gasp in shock as I watch my only cloth getting stained by his cum. And yet the throbbing in my sex continues.

"Go change." Dakota stands up and fixes himself. "And make sure my lunch is unspitten."

He warns me in a threatening tone and walks out of his office with his hard face, without even looking at me for the second time.

I feel disgusted by the way he left me, again. I wipe the musky flavour of his semen from my mouth as I stand up with my heart hammering inside my chest.

I see a pool of water on the floor, where I was sitting and redness crawls up my face. I hope this is all water from ice.

Gosh! I hate him.

I fucking hate him.

I hope I hate him.

I dump my bathrobe in the washing machine and rush for a warm shower.

Water runs down my skin, washing away his cum from my body. But the impact of his eyes still stays on me like a lasting tattoo. I can't brush it off.

I hate the way I liked the way he looked at me.

Did he fuck my brain or something?

I should be mad at him. I should be screaming and cursing at him right now, but all I feel is hot-hot from inside. And that throb for a touch.

I dip a finger and find myself drenched from inside. I hope its the water from ice.

I drape the towel around my body as I walk out, thats when the realization hits me. I have no clothes and he cummed on my bathrobe that was the only thing left to wear.

That mother-lingerie-obsessed-fucker did this on purpose.

He is a maniac of maniacs!!!

I can't believe him. He hid my clothes first, and now messed up with my only alternative. But oh! I am also an ultimate feminine savage. I won't back down easily.

I would rather dress up in a dirty carpet than those filthy see-through lingeries that he is adamant on making me wear.

I stomp out of my room and stop when I hear loud thumping sounds. I follow the noise and stop at a glass cabin of machines and a shirtless man with boxing gloves.

I feel a dip in my chest as I see Dakota hitting the sand bag with fierce punches. His back glistens with sweat and his wolf tattoo bears at me viciously.

The unbeatable Alpha. Thats what they called him.

I stare at him like I am watching an exotic animal from the glass and suddenly, his fist pauses in the air.

Dakota turns his head as if he sensed eyes on him and looks at me. His eyes green like amazon river, allure me to take a dip in his darkness as he just stands there looking sweating hot like a candle.

My breath hikes and I freeze like a deer in headlights. I am scared. I am thrilled. I am stupid.

Dakota licks his lip and lowers his dark lashes to my towel. And suddenly a wolfish scowl crawls up to his face and he looks away, hitting the sand bag harder than before.

The sound of thumping gets louder as if he is imagining me as the bag.

What the hell I did now?

I tighten the towel on my chest and walk away as his punches get more fierce.

For the whole day I avoid him like a plaque. If he is working down in his office, I go clean the upper floor. If he is above, I'll be down cleaning in the kitchen.

We just play hide and seek. Or maybe it's just me.

After making a quick burrito, I plate it with chicken wings I fried in his airfryer from lunch and jump in for another shower.

I don't know how many times I am going to shower today just to avoid facing him.

I just can't look into his penetrative eyes that speak of revenge, sin and torture through his where-is-my-breakfast to I-won't-let-you-come ways.

Gosh! Which day is this? It feels like two years.

I wrap myself in the towel again and step into the room, when I instantly freeze as I spot a man tall like my nightmare, standing beside the window and starring at the darkness of universe.

What is he doing here?

What is he doing here? My anxiety asks as well.

Dakota remains silent, like he is attending a funeral in his head. And frankly, it scares me.

"I remember how I used to gaze at stars every night when I was in orphanage. Not everyday I used to get to sleep in a bed. Most of the nights it was just terrace and stars." He tells me while looking dreamily into the dark sky, like reading a memory from his book of past.

"That's when I decided I'll make a robot that would fit me in and jump to the moon where I'll have my own bed to sleep in." He chuckles softly, which sounded like a sad melody.

And suddenly I feel sorry for him. He might have a fancy life, a high-tech home, even a golden bed, everything except a happy childhood.

"I.. I didn't know that you were passionate about machines since your childhood." I clutch on to my towel and walk up to him.

His eyes are still aimed at the stars, expressing so much struggle, so much pain behind those orbs while his face remains stoic like he turned himself into a robot that he wanted to make.

"My name is not Dakota." His voice so hush, it almost sounds like a whisper spoken accidentally.

"In fact, I have no name."

I look up at him in a state of confusion. Every time I see him, he seems like he is on edge. Like he is controlling something deep within him, hiding so much darkness that could even blackout the world.

"What do you mean?" I ask him, a bit troubled.

( ͡♥ ₃ ͡♥)

So I have decided to keep my original plan of what I had planned with this story.

And will update Dakota's pov soon so you will know what is going on in his fucking mind!

Stay tuned to the story and yes... Don't forget to like and comment ;)