Chapter 46 A New Muse
Liam
There he goes—walking straight into my trap.
Poor bastard. He must have really fallen for Pattie.
A slow smile spread across my face.
“Pathetic,” I muttered under my breath as he was shoved into the room by his tie.
The camera feed cut off there. He was lucky he was a customer—otherwise, I would have gone far more deeper into his boring sex life. But I had principles. Limited ones, maybe, but still.
I closed the laptop and leaned back in my chair, then shifted my gaze to the woman sitting across from me, her lips pushed out in anger.
“Are you done?” she asked.
I tilted my head slowly. “With what?”
She sighed. “Whatever you’re doing. I need to talk to you.”
I already knew what she wanted to say, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood.
“I think this relationship should end,” I said, my voice firm.
Her eyes widened as she slowly rose from her seat, shock written all over her face.
“Is it because I belonged to someone else for a year?” she asked, her voice shaking.
I stayed calm, watching her composure crack, then shook my head.
“Then why?” she pressed. “What did I do? What changed?”
She kept asking, one question after another, but the answer was simple.
No other woman stirred anything in me anymore—except Mrs. Claire.
“It’s not you, Pattie. It’s me,” I said flatly. “I’m bored with this relationship.”
Her eyes trembled as tears welled up and spilled over, shoulders shaking.
Normally, her crying would have excited me—that was my weakness, my indulgence, my kink. But now, it irritates me.
I had always enjoyed watching women cry. The way tears came so easily when they were pushed to the edge. That was the first thing that caught my attention about Mrs. Claire too.
How vulnerable she’d been that day in my house. The way her hands trembled around her purse. How she avoided my eyes. How her lips quivered.
I knew then—she would have made the perfect submissive.
I had rules. I didn’t cross boundaries with clients. But that day was different. I pushed her past limits, crossed lines, all to corner her—to force her not to end Pattie’s relationship with her husband.
Because I thought the man was the one with the money.
Turns out, the investigation was wrong.
The one with the money—the real power—wasn’t the husband.
It was the wife.
Knowing the kind of man I am, I should have blackmailed her with the sex tape. Turned that one reckless encounter into a steady stream of cash. Money is the only thing that’s ever truly mattered to me.
But no.
For the first time in all my years alive, I came—really came—and the feeling was worth more than every million she could possibly offer.
And now here I am: the almighty Mr. King, chasing after a woman old enough to be my aunt, craving her body, her pussy like some desperate fool waiting to be devoured. That alone enrages me.
Worse still, I’m losing myself in front of her. Giving her exactly what she craves. Me — the man who only takes, who never gives — handing over pieces of control I’ve never surrendered before. I don’t even recognize the man staring back at me anymore.
“Is it because of another woman?” Pattie’s voice cracked. “Do you have yourself a new muse?”
I lifted my gaze to meet her swollen, tear-streaked eyes.
“What would you do,” I began slowly, “if all your life you could never taste sweetness… and then one day you stumbled into a shop and, for the first time, you finally understood what it felt like?”
Her eyes widened as the realization sank in like poison.
“Would you crawl back to the old bakeries, knowing their pastries will always be tasteless to you? Or would you claim the one bakery where you can finally taste the sweetness you’ve been starving for your entire life?”
She took a stumbling step backward, one trembling hand flying to her mouth.
“You…” she whispered.
I gave a single nod. “Yes, Pattie. I finally know what it feels like to come—really come—but only with one woman. Everything else, everyone else… including you… is just ash now.”
The moment the words left my mouth, her legs gave out. She crumpled to the floor.
Poor Pattie.
I never wanted to see her shatter like this. She was my favorite, after all, the one I actually bothered to girlfriend-up, the one I treated better than the rest. I handpicked her myself.
The first time I saw her, she was this awkward little nerd drowning in oversized glasses, clothes that didn’t fit, shallow as a puddle. And somehow that pathetic innocence made me hard in a way nothing else ever had.
She was the first woman who ever brought me close to release, so I kept her. Molded her. Trained her.
From the moment she met me she’d been obsessed, following me around like a lovesick zombie. Claiming her was effortless.
And now, watching her break on the floor in front of me… it’s not surprising. To Pattie, I am her entire world. I’ve always known that.
“Get up,” I ordered.
She lifted her head just enough to look at me, tears still streaming. “You don’t have any use for me anymore.”
I tilted my head. “Says who?”
A flicker of desperate hope flashed in her eyes.
“You still have plenty of uses, Pattie. You’re one of my best earners. You make me very good money.”
The last of her composure shattered.
But that’s who I am. Cruel. Merciless. A taker.
So tell me, Mrs. Claire…
Why is it that when I’m with you, I’m suddenly not that man at all?
Ian
I came hard inside her, teeth gritted, fingers twisting the sheets like they owed me something.
The second it was over, I rolled off, chest heaving. A smug little smile danced across her face as she caught her breath, looking far too pleased with herself.
“How was that for you?” I asked, dragging a hand through my damp hair, still riding the aftershocks.
No answer.
I turned. She’d propped herself up on the bed, facing me, that same lazy smile in place.
“Well… for an older guy, you did alright,” she said, voice dripping mock sweetness.
The smirk I’d been wearing died instantly.
“Older guy?” I repeated, voice low.
She let out a soft, amused chuckle. “You really think thirty minutes is enough to satisfy me?” She slid off the bed, stretching like a cat that had just toyed with its prey. “No, sir. I’m not even close.”
My face drained of color. That couldn’t be right.
Claire used to complain, half-teasing, half-serious, about how long I lasted, how I could go forever. Pattie always praised it, said she loved how I took my time, how good I was. And now this… this girl was telling me I fell short?
I forced a scoff. “You’re joking.”
She actually laughed, a full, mocking sound that bounced off the walls. “Seriously? Pattie must’ve been so disappointed. No wonder she left you.”
She clutched her stomach, doubled over with glee.
It felt like someone had dumped boiling water over me. My whole body shook — not from afterglow, but from pure, white-hot rage.