Master of Lust

The getaway van tore through the city streets like a bat out of hell.

Tires screeched around tight corners, burning rubber against the asphalt. The heavy black van smashed through a chain-link fence, completely ignoring the traffic signals. Behind them, the wail of police sirens grew fainter and fainter until they were entirely swallowed by the chaotic noise of the city.

It was a movie-like escape. The cops were left eating dust and spinning out in the mud of an abandoned construction site.

In the back of the dark, windowless van, Rick sat on the metal floor. He had his legs spread wide, with Rachel sitting securely between them. He held her tightly by the waist, keeping her braced against his chest as the van violently swerved left and right.

Every time the van hit a pothole, Rachel bounced hard against him. Her soft, heavy breasts pressed firmly against his arms. Her tight emerald dress had ridden dangerously high up her thighs, exposing her black lace panties and the smooth, pale skin of her legs.

"Fucking maniacs!" Rachel screamed over the roar of the engine. She squeezed her eyes shut, digging her manicured nails deep into Rick’s forearms. "We are going to die in the back of a stolen van!"

"Relax, doc," Rick chuckled, entirely unfazed. He squeezed her waist, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her stomach. "Enjoy the ride. It’s better than a roller coaster. And the view from back here is fantastic."

He shamelessly stared down her deep neckline as she bounced. He let his hands slide a little lower, cupping the curve of her hips.

Rachel snapped her eyes open and glared at him. "You are an absolute pig! We are hostages! They have automatic weapons!"

"I’m a realist," Rick smirked, pulling her ass flush against his groin. "If I’m going to die, I want my last sight to be a nice pair of tits."

"Shut up!" the lead goon yelled from the front passenger seat. He waved his assault rifle blindly toward the back of the dark van. "Keep your mouths shut or I’ll pistol-whip both of you until your teeth fall out!"

Rick didn’t even flinch. He just tightened his grip on Rachel. He could feel her body heat through the thin fabric of his slacks. His cock was half-hard just from the friction of her ass grinding against him on the bumpy road.

The female leader was sitting on a metal bench opposite them. She hadn’t said a word since they left the hotel. She was busy digging through one of the heavy black duffel bags filled with stolen loot.

She carelessly tossed aside thick leather wallets, platinum credit cards, and heavy gold watches. They clattered uselessly onto the metal floor.

Finally, she pulled out a stunning, glittering diamond and sapphire necklace. It was a masterpiece of jewelry, easily worth half a million dollars. It caught the dim streetlights passing through the bullet holes in the van and sparkled brilliantly.

The boss smiled under her ski mask. She slipped the expensive necklace into the deep pocket of her leather tactical pants.

She zipped the heavy duffel bag shut. Then, she casually kicked the massive bag across the floor. It hit the lead goon right in the shin.

"Take the bags," the female boss ordered. Her voice was sharp and commanding over the noise of the engine. "Keep the cash. Split it between yourselves and the driver."

The lead goon looked down at the bags, completely stunned. "All of it? Boss, there’s millions of dollars in here. The jewelry alone is worth a fortune."

"I don’t need the money," she replied coldly. "You boys are just hired guns anyway. Consider it a massive tip for a job well done. Just drop us at the point under the South Bridge and disappear. Wait for my call."

"Yes, boss!" the driver yelled back, suddenly sounding much happier. "Whatever you say!"

"What about the hostages, boss?" the lead goon asked, clutching the bag of money.

"I’ll handle them," she replied.

The van violently swerved again, plunging down a steep, curved ramp. The darkness outside thickened. They were driving under a massive concrete overpass. The engine sputtered, and the van jerked to a sudden, violent stop in a deserted, trash-filled alleyway beneath the bridge.

"Out," the boss ordered, kicking the rear doors open.

Cold, damp city air rushed into the stuffy van.

Rick stood up effortlessly. He reached down, grabbed Rachel’s hand, and hoisted her up. Rachel stumbled in her high heels, her legs shaking from the adrenaline and fear. Rick caught her by the waist before she could fall face-first onto the concrete.

They stepped out of the van into the dark alley.

The hired goons didn’t waste a single second. The driver slammed the gas pedal, and the van sped off into the night, taking the millions of dollars in stolen loot with them.

Rick, Rachel, and the female leader were left standing alone in the damp shadows.

Parked a few feet away was a sleek, black, heavily tinted Mercedes-Benz S-Class.

The boss walked over to the Mercedes. Her hips swayed with an aggressive, confident rhythm. The tight black leather pants hugged her perfectly round ass, the fabric stretching tight over her thick thighs.

Rick openly stared. He bit his lower lip, enjoying the show. He didn’t care if she had a gun. A nice ass was a nice ass.

"Get in the back," the boss commanded, unlocking the car with a key fob.

Rick opened the rear door and guided a trembling Rachel inside. He slid in right next to her, leaving no space between them. The plush leather seats of the Mercedes were a massive upgrade from the dirty, bumpy floor of the van.

The boss climbed into the driver’s seat.

She let out a heavy sigh. She reached up and grabbed the bottom of her black ski mask. With a swift pull, she yanked the sweaty wool off her head and tossed it onto the passenger seat.

She ran her hands through her hair, shaking it out.

Thick, luscious waves of platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders.

She turned her head to look at them in the rearview mirror.

Rick’s eyebrows shot up.

She was an absolute knockout. She had high, sharp cheekbones, piercing ice-blue eyes, and full, naturally red lips. A thin layer of sweat glistened on her pale neck and collarbone. The tight bulletproof vest pushed her massive, heavy breasts up, creating an incredibly deep canyon of cleavage just inches below her chin.

"Damn," Rick breathed out, leaning forward slightly. A wicked grin spread across his face. "I was wondering what was hiding under that sweaty mask. You are a certified ten, sweetheart."

Rachel elbowed Rick hard in the ribs. "Are you literally trying to get us killed? Shut your mouth!"

Rick ignored her. He kept his eyes locked on the blonde in the mirror.

"I’d let you rob me any day of the week," Rick said smoothly, leaning his elbows on his knees. "In fact, if you want to tie me up and hold me hostage in your bedroom, I’m fully available. I don’t even charge an hourly rate."

The blonde woman let out a short, amused laugh. It was a rich, dark sound. She didn’t look offended at all. She actually looked highly intrigued.

"You’ve got a dirty mouth," the girl said. She shifted the car into drive and hit the gas. "And you’re entirely too relaxed for a guy who just had an automatic rifle pointed at his head ten minutes ago."

"I perform best under pressure," Rick winked at her through the mirror. "You should see what I can do when things get really hot. I promise you won’t be disappointed."

Rachel groaned in pure disgust. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to cover her own cleavage and block out the conversation.

The blonde girl ignored Rick’s crude comment. She focused her ice-blue eyes on Rachel in the mirror.

Her tough, mocking persona suddenly vanished. She offered a polite, surprisingly gentle smile.

"I apologize for the rough handling, Doctor Williams," the girl said smoothly.

Rachel froze. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her hands gripped her elbows tightly.

"You... you know who I am?" Rachel stammered, her eyes wide with shock.