Entering his room, Dick paused, eyes narrowing. Lana was there, perched on the edge of his bed, her legs crossed nervously. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she sprang up, her lips crashing against his, kissing him with desperation, her hands gripping his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
Without a word, Dick grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he pushed her back, forcing her to look at him. "I think there is a misunderstanding here," he said coldly, voice cutting through the moment like a knife. "You don't get to come to me when you feel like it. It works the other way around."
Lana's eyes widened, her lips still parted, confusion flickering behind the desire. "I just thought—"
"You thought wrong," Dick interrupted, shoving her back toward the bed. She stumbled, catching herself just before she hit the mattress. "Did I tell you to be here? Did I give you permission?"
Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find words, but nothing came out. The authority in his voice left no room for excuses, no room for her to beg or explain.
He stepped forward, towering over her as she sat on the bed, looking up at him with those wide, trembling eyes. For a second, she looked like she might cry, but she caught herself, lowering her gaze to the floor.
"That's better," Dick muttered, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes again. "You're not here because you want to be, Lana. You're here because I allow it. Don't forget that."
Lana swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the tension in her body easing into something more submissive. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," Dick said, his voice as cold as ever. "You need to learn your place, and you're going to start by showing me how grateful you are that I haven't thrown your ass out yet."
Without waiting for a response, he pulled her up from the bed and spun her around, bending her over the mattress in one fluid motion. His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt up over her hips. She didn't resist, her body trembling under his touch as he positioned her just how he wanted.
"Stay quiet. I don't want to hear a word," he growled, leaning over her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. Lana bit her lip, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. She didn't dare make a sound, her entire body tense, waiting for whatever came next.
Dick's fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder. He didn't rush. His hand slid between her legs, feeling the wetness already pooling there, and he chuckled darkly. "Look at you," he muttered. "So desperate."
Lana let out a faint whimper, but quickly bit it back, remembering his command. Her legs shifted, instinctively spreading wider for him, as if her body was begging for more even if her voice couldn't.
"You are a good slut," he whispered, his voice low and mocking as he unzipped his pants, letting her feel the weight of his cock pressing against her. "Now, let's see how well you really know your place."
Without another word, Dick thrust inside her, hard and fast, making her gasp. She gripped the sheets tighter, her body tensing around him, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to spill from her lips. But he didn't care. He was relentless, reminding her exactly who was in charge.
Lana's breath hitched, her back arching as he filled her completely, her body trembling under the weight of his dominance. Her mind was a blur, lost in the intensity of it all, and yet she still fought to keep quiet, to hold back the moans that threatened to escape with every thrust.
Dick's hands gripped her hips harder, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounded into her, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. Lana's legs shook, barely able to keep her steady as he took her over and over, his pace never faltering.
Finally, unable to hold back any longer, a strangled moan slipped past her lips.
Dick's hand immediately wrapped around her throat, pulling her upright, her back pressed against his chest. "What did I say?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I told you to stay quiet."
Lana's eyes widened, panic flashing across her face as his grip tightened around her neck. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to breathe.
"Shut up," Dick snapped, his hand tightening just enough to make her gasp for air, her body trembling against him. "You don't get to speak unless I say so."
She nodded frantically, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as his grip loosened just slightly. He pushed her back down onto the bed, resuming his brutal pace, her body jerking with each thrust.
For the next few minutes, the room was filled only with the sound of Dick taking what was his. Lana's body shook beneath him, her fingers clawing at the mattress, her legs trembling as she fought to keep herself steady. He didn't let up, driving into her harder, faster, until he felt her tense beneath him, teetering on the edge of release.
But she didn't dare come without permission.
Dick smirked, his hand sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her closer as he thrust even deeper. "Now," he commanded, his voice rough and unforgiving. "Cum for me."
Lana didn't hesitate. Her entire body convulsed as the orgasm crashed over her, a silent scream etched across her face as she writhed beneath him. Her muscles clenched around him, pulling him in deeper, her body trembling with the force of it.
Dick groaned, his own release building as he continued to pound into her, chasing the high. Finally, with one last thrust, he came inside her, his grip on her hips tightening as he rode out his release.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of their ragged breaths. Dick pulled out of her, watching as she collapsed onto the bed, completely spent, her body still trembling from the intensity of it all.
He zipped up his pants, his eyes cold and unreadable as he glanced down at her. "Remember this the next time you think you can show up here uninvited," he muttered, his voice low but firm. "You're mine, Lana. And you'll do as I say. Understood?"
Lana nodded weakly, her body too exhausted to respond properly.
"Good," Dick said, his tone final. "Now get dressed and get out."
As Lana left, from the gap of the door, Dick caught a glimpse of Emily standing there, her eyes locked on him. He clenched his jaw. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Of all people, Emily.
It wasn't like he cared about being seen fucking a servant—he could handle that—but Emily? She was different. Detached. Observant in ways the others weren't. He shut the door quickly, blocking her view, his mind already spinning. She didn't show much on her face, but the fact that she'd been watching… it wasn't good.
He leaned against the door for a moment, running a hand through his hair. How long had she been there? A few seconds? Longer? He cursed under his breath again, pushing away from the door. He paced across the room, his mind racing. She hadn't said anything, hadn't reacted, but that was the problem with Emily. She never did.
He sat down heavily in his chair, staring at the door. Maybe she'd shrug it off, act like she didn't care. That was her way, wasn't it? Pretend everything was beneath her.
But then again, maybe not.
Sighing, he decided to ignore it. Emily was always impossible to read, and there was no sense in overthinking. If she cared enough to mention it, she would. If not, it wasn't worth worrying about.
Leaving his room, Dick decided to visit Rebecca. She hadn't called in a while after their first time together, which was strange. He had expected a little guilt from her, but by now, she should've come crawling back, desperate for more. Something must have happened.
Rebecca was his next-door neighbor, so the walk was short. As he approached the house, he noticed the front door was slightly ajar. The faint sound of a TV blaring inside only added to the oddness. Rebecca wasn't the type to leave her home in disarray.
Pushing the door open, Dick stepped inside. Immediately, he was hit with the smell of junk food and the sight of clutter littering the usually pristine living room. Empty pizza boxes, beer cans, and discarded clothes were scattered everywhere. His eyes narrowed, scanning the mess. Rebecca would have never tolerated this.
From the living room, he heard voices. Rounding the corner, he saw Samantha, Rebecca's 21-year-old daughter, lounging on the couch with a man. He was sprawled out like he owned the place, legs kicked up on the coffee table, crumbs from a half-eaten sandwich dotting his lap. Samantha was curled up next to him, laughing at some crude joke he'd just made.
The TV blared some brain-dead reality show, and neither of them noticed Dick standing there. Samantha's once bright, ambitious demeanor seemed dulled, her attention completely absorbed by the moron she was with. Samantha's boyfriend had a smug look plastered on his face, one hand casually resting on Samantha's thigh while he guffawed at the TV.
Dick's gaze hardened. So this was why Rebecca had been too busy to call. She'd been dealing with this disaster. His lip curled in disgust as the boyfriend loudly belched, making no effort to clean up the mess he was actively adding to.
"Seriously, babe," He said, his voice grating, "why do we even bother cleaning up? Your mom's just gonna do it anyway. Well, while she stops crying."
Samantha giggled. "She'll get over it. Besides, she's been, like, too stressed to care lately."
He snorted, then stretched, his shirt riding up just enough to show off his abs like he was waiting for Samantha to drool over him. "Man, I love it when she's gone. We can just trash the place without her nagging us."
The arrogance dripping off him was suffocating. Dick clenched his jaw, his fingers itching to wrap around this guy's neck and squeeze until the smugness vanished. But he took a deep breath instead, holding back. He wasn't here to make a scene—yet.
"Is this a frat house now?" Dick's voice cut through the room like a blade.
Samantha shot up from the couch, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Dick standing there. "Who the hell are you? And how did you get in here?"
Dick ignored her, his eyes flicking over the mess that now defined Rebecca's once-spotless home. The piles of junk food, the dirty clothes strewn everywhere—this wasn't just carelessness. It was disrespect. His lips curled in disgust.
"Hey, asshole!" Adam, her boyfriend, barked from his lazy sprawl on the couch. "You deaf or something? My girl asked you a question."
Dick's gaze shifted toward Adam, taking in the slouched posture, the half-eaten sandwich hanging loosely from his hand. This guy—this smug, disrespectful idiot—was the one making a mess of things. He barely gave Adam more than a glance before turning his attention back to Samantha.
"I'm here for your mom," Dick said coldly. "But it looks like she's not the only one in need of cleaning up."
Samantha bristled, her hands dropping to her hips. "The fuck are you talking about? You don't get to just barge in here—"
"Relax." Dick's voice was calm, cutting her off with a wave of indifference. "You let the door wide open. What did you expect?"
Adam snorted, shoving the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth before wiping his greasy fingers on his pants. "You think you can walk in here, throw around some attitude, and scare us? Nah, bro." He stood up, chest puffed out like some cheap attempt at intimidation. "Why don't you crawl back out that door before I—"
Before he could finish, Dick stepped forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. The cocky grin on Adam's face faltered, replaced by a flicker of doubt as Dick loomed over him, eyes cold and unflinching.
"Before you what?" Dick's voice was low, dangerous. He leaned in, his presence suffocating. "You gonna finish that thought?"
Adam swallowed hard, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Dick's stare. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting toward Samantha for backup, but she was frozen in place, clearly unsure of how to handle this sudden shift.
"Didn't think so," Dick muttered, his lips curling into a cold smirk. He didn't even bother with Adam after that, turning his back on him as if he wasn't even worth the effort. "Now, where's Rebecca?"
Samantha's eyes flared with indignation. "What the hell do you want with my mom?"
Dick shrugged casually, moving deeper into the house as if he owned the place. "She's been a little… distracted lately. Figured I'd check in. Clearly, there's a reason for that."
Samantha crossed her arms defensively, stepping in front of him as he headed for the hallway. "You don't get to come in here and throw accusations around. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Move," Dick said, his voice steady, firm.