The Fixer

Sarah Jesse chased the wrong story and now the Fixer is at her door. Seth Gamble steps inside, closes it with one hand, and the other is already on her throat. He wants silence. She wants the truth. Her blouse rips open first, buttons skittering across the floor. He bends her over the desk, wrists zip-tied behind her back, and yanks her skirt up. His cock—thick, heavy—lands on her cheek before she’s allowed to taste it. She spits on it, tells him to go to hell, and takes it anyway, gagging when he pushes deeper. Rope replaces the plastic cuffs. Ankles lashed, knees spread, tits bound tight, nipples clipped. Every flinch earns another slap across her ass, each mark darker than the last. Seth works her open, sliding in raw and rough, never pausing when she cusses at him, only when she finally whimpers yes. He fucks her until the only headline left is the one he writes across her skin.