Chapter 8

Dean walked out as he heard Monica said that. He felt betrayed again for the 2nd time.

"Dean!" Monica shouted.

Monica just looked at Riana angrily.

She ran after him. Dean stopped for a couple of seconds, letting her explain.

"I know this is just a game Monica but don't cross our boundary"

"You're being unreasonable!"

"I'm just unreasonable when it comes to you! Can't you see Monica? We signed an agreement!"

"You won't let me explain?"

"What will you explain. I already know, you said that earlier"

"Aren't we friends? You should've trusted me and let me explain!"

“I don't care about your explanation. As long as I have this agreement, you’re mine, Monica. Never forget that” Dean said.

Dean was about to enter his car.

"Tristan is my cousin!" Monica shouted. "Tristan is my cousin from my Mother Side"

Dean looked back at her. "What?"

"He is my cousin, I said"

"Okay." Monica assumed that he'd be surprised but he looks calm. "I was about to open a door for you" he pointed at his car.

"What??" He's just this weird...

"Papasok ka o ipapasok kita?"

Monica just rolled her eyes.

"Let's first have our brunch. It's 11am now" Dean advised. "Fasten your seatbelts"

Monica did as what she has told to.

---

It had been an innocent look, an insignificant side eye at another man, a man that looked much like Dean no less at the restaurant, but Dean thought otherwise. He’d said nothing of it when the food came, nothing of it at dessert and he hadn’t even voiced concern on route to his house. He’d been eerily silent, disengaging the minute it happened.

Dean’s silence, often spoke louder than words and in this case, he was just so quiet.

He just sliced my steak on the table.

“Did I uh, did I do something wrong again? You know to upset you? Hey”

Monica grumbled in subtle fear, biting anxiously at his lower lip and pretending she isn't afraid of his actions.

For Monica, Dean is surely a mystery puzzle for a girl, he is good, patient, smart guy but sometimes he was a man who possessed a jealous streak. You need a nasty spell to conquer his mood swings.

Had she done something wrong again?

of course not. She had explain things to him.

"Tristan is just my cousin. He helps me when I'm in need, it was because my mother told him to look for me"

Dean just ate his food. Dean wasn’t going to express himself easily, like a normal civilian belonging in a society.

He was furious, agitated, because how dare his property glance at another, even in passing.

That's her nature, he guess.

It was vexing, but yelling up a storm, just wasn’t his way. It wasn’t his style to demean himself to a fit of rage, and pile more stress. Monica was a plaything, a tool to use at his discretion, she is needed for him to move-on, remember?

He wasn’t going to make this harder on himself than it had to be, and not that he had a problem with it, but he didn’t intend to drive his blood pleasure of the charts.

"Don't just compare me with other person. I'm here Monica sitting in front of you. I am unique on my own and I can prove that to you, even on bed."

Monica gasped when she realized that it was the reason why he is suddenly agitated. "Ohh you are mad? Just because I said you look like--"

"Enough Monica." Warning sign. Code: Redflag.

"You are so unreasonable, Dean, this isn't you"

"I told you, I'm just unreasonable just for you" Dean said.

Monica enjoys this moment. Dean isn't like this, she wasn't sure if this is good or bad.

"Come on. When did you change like that?" She teases him.

"Let's go home" Dean left without finishing his food.

"Wait!" Monica grabbed one last bite of the croissant she is having.

She called the waiter but the waiter said no. It was paid?

They went home.

"Take off your clothes…” Dean hissed with a click of his tongue, rather blank in expression, attempting to appear unfazed, he tossed aside his car keys when they arrived on the condo. He rolled the sleeves of his crisp Armani shirt up to his forearms.

“My clothes? Why?” Monica mused, his apprehension nearly rising to a boil, face upturned like a deer caught in the headlights as curling feet more or less remained frozen in place in the center of that tiled living room.

Take off your clothes…It echoed in his ear viciously, and to say he was perplexed by it, was a grand understatement. Unnerved, that’s what he was, yes he changes like a cold hot guy. It lacked affect, a kind of empathy and it left his heart pounding in his chest. A callous reprimand, a scream, a slap, he could handle all of that, but a face that gave way to nothing, was impossible to deal with. Shitting bricks, that was basically all the body could do in the presence of such a thing.

“Take off your clothes, Monica…” Dean repeated again, but this time she called her name with diction, inching a little too close for comfort, hands still as ever at his sides despite the frustration rattling his consciousness.

“Make me say it again and I’ll arrange a trip for us in a secluded hotel room.” He insisted, though he don't like that place. He’d been just as forceful and just as frightening, but it was in every way, a necessity.

Monica was going to regret if she don't follow him.

Disgusted, Dean thought. He wasn't like this. It seems that he is changing because of Monica damn. He was disgusted with the idea that he hadn’t been able to control his actions right now.

Monica couldn’t resist his offer. She proposed this game right? Had to do it, because at the very least, she's helping him to move on. Guilt writhed through her but that's okay, that's life.

She removed her clothes.

“Good, Monica can be so very good when she listens…” Dean cooed with a maddening smirk.

“Come on…” Monica gulped in a near whisper, dropping down to the flesh of his knees, the cool of the tile slipping a shiver upon his naked body.

Dean clicked his tongue patronizingly, with a tilt of his head, unzipping her designer slacks pleated down the center. There was punishment to be had here, but he’d be a fool to say he wasn’t salivating at the thought of overpowering her. “Scoot forward and open that mouth…” He snorted, mocking his pet, he will giving Monica a blowjob first, for perhaps the second time in his life, as he slithered his manhood from the confines of silk, the thought of the other’s lips parted lips in this exposed state, exciting him beyond reproach.

His soul was far too crippled by shame to go ahead with it. He just decided to do it. He’d ruined things and no matter how he approached it, he’d earned this punishment, no matter how embarrassed he felt.

Unable to say a word, he inched forward with goosebumps growing upon his dermis and slid his member into Monica's mouth, eyes fixed upon her.

“That’s it now…” Dean hummed sliding his hands from her chin to the trace of her mouth, gripping at his locks with a crooked grin. “I think this is it where it belong,… You are on the floor with my cock in your mouth…” Dean sighed with a lick at the roof of his mouth, feeling wet lips take up the head, and then a part his shaft, slowly, languidly.

It was a little humiliating to be so naked and so vulnerable, even though it's fault. They have the right to do it.  Dean was big, strong and yet taking her whole, felt like a heated embrace on a cold room, in afternoon. It was divine and in an instant, his insecurity had begun to vanish in the haze. Suckling with a deep but softened breath, delighting in the salt of his manhood, Dean shuffled his fingers to the curve of the Monica's thigh.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you, is that understood?” Dean said to her like a boss.

Left alarmed, but rather turned on simultaneously by the dominance, Monica nodded with added loyalty, sliding his hand back to his side and continued to pleasure him. He could feel Dean growing harder and harder by the second, and swiftly he came to wonder if this was truly a kind of a heaven, because it really feel like one.

There was a tingle shuddering throughout her entire body and a part of her was suddenly almost enjoying it. Loving it to the point where she nearly longed to swallow him, if he was in fact permitted to.

“Glad we have an understanding…” Dean said through a deep moan, losing his maddening grip of brown hair and driving his other hand to Ash’s chest, squeezing his thumb and index roughly against a blushing nipple. “Monica, will just be like this okay? No secrets. Purely this kind of relationship right?" He hummed in a sing-song voice, tongue going nearly dry as she felt his manhood burning against her cold tongue.

This was all to cover ground, to make point with her, he couldn’t help but love every minute of it. It was fun, even when it shouldn’t be. “Monica, please be good to me always okay?” Dean asked, hand slowly creeping towards his lower belly, if only to tease him, having no intention of servicing Monica.

With that strong, twisting touch came a brief but painful grunt, a nod of course and a sense of arousal unlike any other. His manhood grew to a centimeter, suddenly rock hard, but he knew better than to cave into the her caress, because that pause said it all. There’d be no pleasure for him, he was the guilty party, and Dean never gave an inch to console when cracking the proverbial whip. Yet in the moment, he didn’t mind so much and nearly grinned in response, feeling Terry’s manhood hit an uneven pulse that only meant he was nearing release.

“Good girl…” Dean moaned almost inaudibly, haphazardly, rushing his hand to Monica’s scalp again, running ring adorned fingers through perspiring locks, feeling his toes curl.

“Good fuckin’, good God…” He let out, and it was imploded in her mouth, naturally without warning, feeling ecstasy wash over her.

Smiling with elation, from ear to ear, Monica rolled back away from the Dean's manhood, cum still webbed at the head, and swallowed every last drop of his sweet nectar. A celestial juice, rung by the hands of angels on high and fitted within a body he could admire for days. No matter the aggravation caused, Dean was in every way divine and taking him in was a shot at possessing that grace.

“I think maybe now, you know who yourself belongs to….” He smirked with a deep exhale, dragging the edge of his thumb over the other’s lip, admiring the mess he’d made of her. Oh how wonderful these luscious petals were, wet and trembling that he could write a book but keep it to himself.

Monica moaned with a nod and a heated bite of her lip, eyes peering into those of crystal blue, desperately eager to retire to his given bedroom and pleasure herself.

“Hmm tell me…” Dean cooed with a lingered click of the tongue, pressing his thumb deeper into Ash’s mouth for added affect, wanting to feel the all of what he’d done to her. “Just who might that be?”

“Dean, always you…”