Chapter 4

Amber lounged on Tyrell’s leather couch in his downtown L.A. penthouse, the city skyline a shimmering haze beyond the glass walls. For two weeks, she’d been crashing there on the regular—her makeup strewn across his bathroom counter, her stilettos scattered by the door, her presence a loud intrusion in his sleek domain. July heat clung to the air, her long blonde hair fanning out as she scrolled Instagram on her phone, her tan legs dangling over the armrest. She wore a skimpy silk robe, untied, her C-cup breasts half-exposed, a tiny thong her only cover—casual, sexy, but nowhere near ready to go out. She smirked, thumbing through coy selfies she’d posted with Tyrell, her million-plus followers lapping it up, her clout riding his rising wave.

The first selfie: Tyrell shirtless in bed, his chiseled chest gleaming, her nestled against him in lingerie, pouting at the camera. Caption: “Waking up with my fave thug #EbonyAscent #ThugLife #AmberGlow.” Responses poured in—

“Goddamn, Amber, he’s HOT—steal him for me!”
”That body tho—Ebony Ascent’s my new religion!”
”Couple goals—his dick must be fire, lucky bitch!”
The second: Tyrell flexing in the gym, her in a sports bra behind him, winking. Caption: “Workout vibes with my king #PowerCouple #EbonyAscent #GlowUp.” Fans raved—

“Tyrell’s a BEAST—sign me up for that!”
”You’re living the dream, Amber—his cock’s a legend!”
”Goals af—Ebony Ascent’s where it’s at!”
The third: Tyrell smirking on the balcony, her in a bikini clinging to his arm, sunset glowing. Caption: “My thug, my view #EbonyAscent #BadBitch #TyrellsGirl.” Comments exploded—

“He’s so fine—Amber, you’re queen for bagging him!”
”That bulge—need me some thug dick NOW!”
”Ebony Ascent’s the move—y’all are fire!”
Tyrell strode out of the bedroom, dressed for going out—tight black tee stretched over his bulging chest and arms, jeans slung low, his rugged edge sharp as a blade. “We’re meeting my crew at the club—get your ass dressed, princess,” he said, grabbing his keys, his voice a low command.

Amber’s bitchiness flared, petty and cutting, ignoring her own delay. “Ugh, your place is fucking disgusting—trash everywhere, like, do you even clean? And your crew’s always so loud, I can’t stand those losers.” She tossed her phone down, ramping it up, her robe slipping open as she sneered. “Seriously, Tyrell, get it together—I’m not some maid.”

He froze, his dark eyes narrowing, and stepped close, his 6’4” frame looming. His hand cracked across her face, a sharp smack that snapped her head aside, her cheek flaring red, followed by a rough grab of her arm.

“I said, get your ass dressed, bitch—we’re late ‘cause of you,” he growled, his tone ice and steel, his dominance slamming her defiance shut. “Test me again, and you’re out—don’t give a fuck how hot you think you are.”

Amber flinched, cowed, her blue eyes wide as awe surged—his power, his control, the thug edge that owned her every time. Her cheek stung, her pussy quivered, a wet pulse soaking her thong as she stared up at him, her bitchiness crumbling into need. “Fuck me, please,” she whimpered, her hands reaching.

He smirked, shoving her back. “Nah—get your shit together, we’re leaving.” She swallowed, her ego bruised but her body hooked, scrambling to her feet. She hurried to the bedroom and yanked on a tight red dress—short, clinging to her curves, no bra, thong barely there—grabbing her purse, her narcissism simmering but her awe at him undeniable.

The club throbbed with bass and sweat, bodies grinding under flashing neon, and Amber ruled the dance floor, grinding on Tyrell like a queen claiming her throne. Their semi-celebrity status crackled—his 500K followers, her 1.5M, their viral penthouse clips and selfies lighting up feeds—and the crowd gawked, whispers buzzing: “That’s Tyrell and AmberGlow!” Her red dress rode up as she pressed her ass into his crotch, his bulge thick and obvious through his jeans, a blatant tease that drew stares. He gripped her hips, his hands rough, his thug swagger amplifying their heat, and people watched in awe, phones out, fans circling like moths to their flame.

A gaggle of her followers—twenty-something women in skimpy outfits—shrieked, rushing over. “AmberGlow! Oh my God, pics, please!” one begged, and Amber preened, posing with Tyrell—her arm slung around his neck, his hand squeezing her ass—her sweet smile dazzling as fans snapped shots. “You’re iconic,” a petite brunette gushed, her eyes flicking to Tyrell’s bulge, whispering to Amber, “I’m so jealous—he’s gotta be amazing, right?”

Amber’s narcissism surged, her bitchy edge sharpening as she smirked, leaning in. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve got no idea—his cock’s massive, thick as fuck, wrecks me every night. Best dick I’ve ever had, stretches me wide, cums buckets—nobody fucks like him, and I get it all. Sorry, babe, he’s mine—I’m the only one who can handle that thug meat.” The fan blinked, flustered, but Amber kept going, “I mean, look at him—pure power, my pussy’s ruined for anyone else,” her brag relentless, her ego ballooning as the girl nodded, snapping another pic, the praise all about her in her mind.

An hour later, Amber’s grind on Tyrell had her pussy dripping, the club’s heat and his bulge stoking a fire she couldn’t douse, when he grabbed her wrist, his grip iron-tight. “Need to get my dick wet, princess,” he growled, dragging her through the pulsing crowd toward the bathroom, his dark eyes glinting with intent. She needed it too—her thong soaked, her body humming from his smack at the penthouse—and she stumbled after him, eager, her red dress riding up as they shoved past gawking fans. He kicked the bathroom door open, a grimy single-stall reeking of booze and bleach, and shoved her toward the sink, her stilettos slipping on the tiles. “Bend over, bitch,” he ordered, and she did, her narcissism drowned in lust, her hands gripping the counter as he yanked her dress up, exposing her ass, her tight pink shaved pussy glistening for him.

Tyrell ripped her thong off with a sharp snap, the fabric tearing as he tossed it aside, his massive black cock springing free from his jeans—thick, veined, throbbing, a beast she craved. He smacked her ass hard, the crack echoing off the walls, her tan cheek stinging red as he lined up, sliding his fat head along her slick lips, teasing her. “Horny little slut, huh?” he taunted, pushing in slow, stretching her tight pussy wide, inch by inch, her walls clenching as he filled her.

She screamed in lust, “Fuck you, harder, asshole!” her voice raw, her nails clawing the counter, her straight blonde hair swinging.

He smirked, smacking her ass again, harder, leaving a handprint. “You’ll take what I give,” he growled, thrusting deep, his cock slamming into her, the pace brutal from the start, her shrieks bouncing off the tiles. He fucked her harder, his massive cock sliding in and out, pounding her pussy raw, his hips slapping her ass with every thrust, the sting of his smacks growing violent—two, three, four, her cheeks blazing red, her screams turning to curses. “Look at you, white bitch, beggin’ for this thug dick,” he taunted, his voice a rough edge over the wet slap of their bodies, his hand cracking her ass again, the pain spiking her lust.

“Fuck you, Tyrell—harder, you prick!” she spat back, her first orgasm hitting, a shuddering wave that made her shriek, her pussy gushing around him, her legs trembling as she clawed the sink, her tan body arching.

He didn’t slow, his cock relentless, smacking her raw ass again, “Greedy little whore,” driving her wild, her curses a desperate plea as he owned her.

Tyrell’s pace turned savage, his cock slamming balls-deep, stretching her pussy to its limit, her second orgasm ripping through her as she screamed, “Yes, fuck, harder, you bastard!” her voice hoarse, her nails gouging the counter, her ass a map of red handprints from his violent smacks.

“Take it, you needy slut,” he mocked, his hand cracking her ass one last time, the sting pushing her over, her pussy spasming around his throbbing shaft, her shrieks echoing as she came again, her juices mixing with his pre-cum.

He grunted, his thrusts faltering, and came hard, flooding her pussy with hot, thick cum, smacking her ass as he finished, the final sting making her whimper. He pulled out slow, her wrecked pussy dripping his load down her thighs, and zipped up, smirking. “Meet me on the floor when you’re ready, princess,” he said, strolling out, leaving her panting, slumped over the sink.

Amber lay there, her chest heaving, her red dress bunched around her waist, cum trickling down her tan thighs, pooling on the filthy tiles. Her pussy throbbed, sore and sated, her straight blonde hair sticking to her sweaty face, her blue eyes dazed as she gasped, oblivious to the world.

She didn’t notice the fan—the petite brunette from earlier—peeking through the cracked door, phone up, filming the whole thing: Tyrell bending her over, his massive cock pounding her, her screams, his smacks, the cumshot. The girl smirked, slipping away with the clip she knew was gold, a viral bomb Amber wouldn’t see ‘til later—her fucked-out daze blinding her to the eyes that had claimed her surrender.

Amber stumbled into Tyrell’s penthouse past midnight, the club’s neon buzz still thrumming in her veins, her red dress wrinkled and cum-stained, her straight blonde hair a tangled mess from the bathroom fuck. She was high—cocaine from one of Tyrell’s crew burned through her, a sharp edge to her post-fuck glow—and flopped onto the leather couch, grabbing her phone to check her socials.