He examined the entire album twice and made his choice. He pressed a button on the table beside him. A minute later the woman who had greeted him reappeared. He indicated his selection. She smiled. "Follow me."
After handling the financial arrangements, the woman made a hushed phone call. She waited a few minutes and then led him up a winding marble staircase to a luxurious hallway. "It's the gold door on the end," she said. "You have expensive taste." I should, he thought. I am a connoisseur.
The Hassassin padded the length of the hallway like a panther anticipating a long overdue meal. When he reached the doorway he smiled to himself. It was already ajar . . . welcoming him in. He pushed, and the door swung noiselessly open. When he saw his selection, he knew he had chosen well. She was exactly as he had requested . . . nude, lying on her back, her arms tied to the bedposts with thick velvet cords. He crossed the room and ran a dark finger across her ivory abdomen. I killed last night, he thought. You are my reward.
She gave him a fake, coy smile. A whore's smile. He slapped her across the face, hard,and her smile faltered imperceptibly. His fingers clamped down on her nipples, and a cry of pain escaped the woman's lips. He could see tears welling up in her eyes.
"Oh, don't cry, sweetie," he feigned sincerity. "I'm sorry, I won't be so rough with you."
She seemed to relax a little. He took the back of her neck and pulled her close for a tender kiss, caressing her nipples in small, circular rubbing motions.
"You don't like pain, huh?" he questioned, giving her nipple a little pinch. "Not even just a little?" He pinched harder, twisting a little. She shook her head, but her cheeks were flushed with desire.
He slapped her breasts, twice, hard, and ignored her cries. Forcing her legs apart, he started fucking her. He came quickly, as it had been many days. She was wet, but she didn't come.
He rolled off her, a little exhausted. He glanced at the clock. No reason not to take a little nap. He turned away from the trembling woman and fell asleep.
When he awoke, the woman's wrists were a little purple and swollen from chafing. The mahogany-skinned Hassassin lay beside her, spent, admiring his naked prize. He wondered if her current slumber was just a deception, a pathetic attempt to avoid further service to him. He did not care.
The exhilaration had worn off. The craving had returned. He studied the sleeping woman beside him. Running his palm across her neck, he felt aroused with the knowledge that he could end her life in an instant. His strong fingers encircled her throat, savoring her delicate pulse.
He began squeezing. Her eyes fluttered open, a panicked expression on her face as the blood started rushing to her head. She started struggling against her chains when she realized he wasn't going to let go. He held on, silently, staring into her eyes with a hard expression as she passed out.
He released his grip immediately, and forced her mouth open with his fingers, shoving his hard member into her mouth. He removed a small pocket knife from his belt and flipped it open, waiting.
When she came to, he waved the knife in front of her eyes. "If you get any ideas about biting me…" he ran the knife down her cheek and over her throat, "it will be the last thing you do." The knife came to rest just above her left breast, where he could feel her heart pounding. She tried to nod.
"Good!" he said, and jammed his cock into her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply again. She resumed her struggling again. He took his knife and slapped her clit with the flat edge of the blade. She gave a muffled squeal which sent wonderful vibrations down his shaft, and stopped struggling.
He began thrusting up and down her throat. Every time he withdrew his cock, she gasped for a breath of much needed air. With his left hand, he pushed her breasts together and grabbed both her nipples, his right hand expertly fingering her pussy. He wanted to her to enjoy this, and to be humiliated that she had. As he felt the tell-tale muscle contractions, he pushed himself in and came into her throat. He held her down for a moment, and then pulled out and watched her writhe and gasp for air.
He watched her for a minute to make sure she was alright, and then turned around and left her there. There was work to be done.
(I usually do regular fiction and not erotic, hence the throwaway :P The original is "Angels and Demons" by Dan Brown)
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2avcbp/you_know_when_real_authors_imply_a_sex_scene_but