Torment (B.A.D. Inc Book 1) Read online

  TORMENT

  B.A.D. Inc #1

  Angel Devlin

  Tracy Lorraine

  Copyright © 2020 by Angel Devlin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing by Andie M. Long

  Cover and formatting by Dandelion Cover Designs

  Photography by Michelle Lancaster @lanefotograf

  Model Chad Hurst

  Contents

  A Note

  TORMENT DEFINITION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Also by Angel & Tracy

  About Angel Devlin

  About Tracy Lorraine

  A Note

  Torment is written in British English and contains British spelling and grammar. This may appear incorrect to some readers when compared to US English books.

  Angel & Tracy xo

  TORMENT DEFINITION

  1.To cause someone to experience severe mental or physical suffering.

  2.To be cruel or unkind to someone.

  3.To feel physical pain and suffering.

  4.To annoy someone… especially for fun.

  I’ll play with your emotions and enjoy every minute, and then I’ll fuck you so hard and good you’ll forget how cruel I am. What can I say, it’s a gift.

  -Deacon King.

  Chapter One

  Deacon

  Her hand trembles as she lowers my afternoon coffee down onto my desk and a smirk curls up the corner of my lips. Nothing better than an intern who’s intimidated by doing something as simple as delivering a drink. The dark liquid sloshes over the edge of the mug and splashes on the dark walnut of my desk.

  “How long have you been here now?” I ask, though I don’t really give a fuck about the answer. I just need to hear if she’s got what it takes to stand up for herself when the pressure is on. I don’t want weak employees and if she can’t cope with delivering a fucking cup of coffee, then I doubt she’ll be able to handle herself after what she’s been caught doing. Stupid, stupid girl going up against me.

  “A- almost a m- month, sir.” Her uncertainty has need racing through my veins. She has no idea that she’s just handed in her resignation.

  My eyes hold her blue ones. They’re pretty, especially as they darken with need.

  “I assume you knew who you’d be working for when you applied to be my assistant’s intern?” My eyes drop from hers, taking in the way her tits press against her slightly too tight dress, her cleavage temptingly exposed above the zip that runs down the centre of the fabric. I don’t get to see her legs, she’s the wrong side of the desk.

  “Of course. Your reputation precedes you, Mr. King.”

  Joy fills me that she’s aware who she’s alone in a room with right now.

  I press the button under my desk that locks the door and darkens the glass, and push my chair out behind me, standing to my full height.

  Her gaze runs up my chest until she finds my eyes once again.

  “And what is it you think you know about me…?” I trail off like I give a shit what her name is.

  “C- Chloe.”

  “Go on then, C- Chloe.” I drop my eyes to her full red lips. She sure dresses to fit in around here. Shame she doesn’t put the same care into her work or her honesty.

  “That you’re… ruthless and always get what you want.”

  I stay silent as I walk around her, taking in her curves. Her arse is fucking golden and only solidifies my decision as to what’s going to happen next.

  “That’s correct,” I whisper next to her ear, delighting in the fact she visibly shivers before me. “I always get what I want. And do you know what I want right this second?”

  She shakes her head. Her heavy breathing is all the evidence I need to know she’s on board. “No.” Her voice is no more than a breathy whisper.

  Spinning her, my hands land on her hips and I press her back against the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. I focus on her, not the London skyline in the distance. My eyes run over every inch of her, my cock swelling with my need to give her a proper send off. She might not know it, but today is the last time she’ll step foot inside the B.A.D. Inc offices.

  “You,” I state. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. She was right about that. I want something, I get it. “You have one chance to run and not look back.” It’s the only warning she’s gonna get. She’s lucky she gets one at all to be honest. Her eyes widen but she doesn’t move. Not for a few seconds anyway. I’m just about to make my move when her hand lifts. She tugs the zip and doesn’t stop until it’s undone. It seems the girl who was afraid to deliver my coffee is long gone. Just like all the others before her; put them in this situation and their true colours show. All they want is a piece of something they’ll never get. I’m not a fucking prize. I don’t belong to, nor will I ever belong to anyone. I take, I don’t give. Ever. Well, apart from orgasms. I might convince people that I have their best intentions at heart, but they’d be very much mistaken. They say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Well, ain’t that the fucking truth. Only, I’m worse. I learned from the best and mastered my skills so that one day I will win.

  Dragging myself from my thoughts, I stare down at this intern’s tits that are threatening to spill from her flimsy bra. Reaching out, I tuck my finger in the lace and tug. The fabric rips and she spills out, her rose-pink nipples ready for the taking. I repeat the action on the other side before focusing my attention on her tiny thong and garter belt.

  “Really dressed for the occasion, didn’t you?”

  “A girl can only hope, Mr. King.”

  Her chest heaves and her thighs rub together. I’ve not even touched her yet. At least she’s good for something, I guess. Shame it’s not what she was employed for.

  I nod down to my crotch and she almost immediately falls to her knees.

  It seems she might be right about knowing my reputation.

  Her fingers make quick work of opening my fly before she pulls my cock free and pumps a few times. Her grip is weak and I have second thoughts about her being skilled at anything.

  “Suck me.”

  I’ve had better but a blow job is a blow job and I’m not about to stop her.

  With my hand threaded in her hair, I take charge of her movements until I need more. Looking to my right, I watch her reflection in the darkened privacy glass. The sight is probably the best thing about this.

  “Turn. Hands against the
window,” I bark, my voice rough with my need.

  Like a good little girl, she does exactly as she’s told. She could be fun if I was in the market for a new pet. Sadly, I’m not. Pushing the fabric covering her arse up against her waist, I take a second to appreciate the view. She clearly came to work with something in mind today. Her garter belt holds a pair of sheer black stockings up her legs. If the situation were different I’d delight in peeling them from her body, but I’m not about taking my time right now. This is about getting what I want and sending her on her way, for good.

  Grabbing a condom from my pocket, I roll it up my shaft and thrust into her. I’m fully seated in one swift move, her arms only just about holding out to stop her face slamming into the window. She’s soaking fucking wet, making me wonder if her whole intention of getting a job here was for this one single moment.

  My fingers wrap around her hips with a painful grip. Good. I want her to look down tomorrow and remember how badly she fucked up.

  “Oh God, oh God,” she chants. Her voice fucks me off, distracting me, so I reluctantly release her hip in favour of covering her mouth. She probably thinks that I don’t want Tiffany to hear, but little does she know that Tiffany is well aware of what I get up to in here. And the watertight NDA she signed before she started working for me ensures her lips stay firmly shut about the way I live my life.

  With her pussy clenching around me, it’s not long before I feel the familiar tingle up my spine before my balls start to draw up. She’s close, I can feel her pussy contracting, but fuck if I care if she comes or not. I’d probably prefer it if she didn’t. She needs to learn that she can’t screw us over. She should be well aware that every single thing that happens in this office is tracked so we knew what she was up to the second she started stealing from us.

  My fingers dig into her hips as my orgasm takes over, but I don’t make a sound. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of thinking this is more than what it is.

  “Fuck,” she moans against my hand as her body twitches.

  Fucking damn her for getting to enjoy this.

  I’m tucking myself back into my trousers after dropping the condom into the bin under my desk when a loud bang sounds out.

  “Deacon, what the fuck are you playing at?” Tyler shouts.

  “You’re done here. Get fucking dressed and get out.” Chloe’s eyes go wide, her tits still spilling from her ruined bra as she spins towards me.

  “W- what?”

  “I said… You. Are. Done. We know what you’ve been doing. You’re fucking fired.”

  “But… but, what was…?” She gestures back to the window.

  “That was me screwing you over. How d’you like it? Now get out of my fucking office before I have security escort you out of here looking like a dirty whore.”

  Her face turns red as she fumbles to find the zip at the bottom of her dress. But she’s not quick enough.

  I fall down onto my chair and press the button to unlock the door. Tyler’s the first in, followed by Anthony, Oliver, and finally Jack whose eyes harden at the sight.

  “What the fuck, Deacon?” Anthony seethes.

  “Aw, man, I thought you were saving yourself for me, sweet cheeks,” Tyler walks straight over to Chloe, making sure he takes his fill of her half-naked body. “There’s no point taking your time. You’re done here, no matter how good a lay you were.”

  “She was shit,” I helpfully add, making Tyler bark out a laugh.

  With five sets of eyes boring into her, Chloe eventually gives up on the zip and just attempts to pull the fabric around her. With a sob, she runs from the office.

  “Was that fucking necessary?” Jack asks, sitting in one of the sofas at the other side of my office.

  “Probably not. Kinda wish I hadn’t bothered. She was like a dead fucking fish.”

  “Jesus, Deacon,” Anthony grumbles while Tyler slaps my shoulder in amusement.

  “Gotta test these things out. Right, my man?” Tyler says.

  Ignoring his excitement, I push out of my chair and join them on the sofas.

  Jack pulls out a notebook, organised as ever, and gets down to it.

  “We’ve got Mia Hamilton this afternoon for her interview seeing as you insisted it had to be you to interview her. You ready, Deacon?”

  “Fuck you. I’m always fucking ready.”

  “Yeah, we know, but you need to not fuck this one if possible. We’ve got exclusives on both of the Park Lane Princesses and we need them. Especially with Fully Loaded finding out about our Beyoncé spread and ripping it from under our noses while we slept.”

  Anger stirs in my stomach. Those fuckers over the pond are doing their best to destroy us. It’s about time they learned that we’re stronger than them.

  “I’m aware,” I spit, irritated that they think I need a reminder. Contrary to popular belief, I can actually keep it in my pants from time to time when there’s a woman in close proximity.

  “Good. Her photoshoot is tomorrow so please try not to scare her off before then.”

  “We need all the juicy gossip she’s got. She’s just broken up with her boyfriend. Get it all. You need to dig deep so make sure you’ve done your fucking homework,” Oliver, our creative director pipes up.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, getting more and more fucked off that they’ve basically just turned up to tell me my job. I know my fucking job. If I didn’t, none of this lot would be here right now dressed in their designer suits.

  Jack continues talking about other shit we’ve got coming up over the next few weeks, but I zone out.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited about this Mia Hamilton interview. I’ve seen plenty of photos of her gracing the tabloids with her best friend and she’s hot. This is her first official magazine shoot and she’s got centre spread. I wouldn’t mind spreading something else of hers. I think back to the intern and what a let-down she was. I could really do with finishing today off properly.

  “If you’re all about done, I’m heading for the shower before meeting Ms. Hamilton.”

  A wicked smile curls at Tyler’s lips. He knows where my thoughts are at, he always does, while Jack’s face hardens in frustration.

  “I’m fucking serious. You can’t fuck this up for us, Deacon.”

  Holding my hands up in surrender, I back up towards my concealed bathroom door and disappear into it to freshen up. I can still smell that chick’s perfume and I need it gone if I’m going to continue my day.

  Chapter Two

  Mia

  I turn on my camera and begin to speak. “Hi all. Mia here. So today I’m being interviewed by the Celebrity Director of B.A.D. Inc magazine ready for my forthcoming appearance in Park Lane Princesses.” I smile at the camera pretending to be bare-faced when I already have a layer of foundation on. I’m famous for being an Instagram Influencer and a YouTuber, showing people how to wear different looks, but I had a poor night’s sleep and I’m not prepared to be THAT honest.

  It’s how my life is anyway around Mayfair and Chelsea, fakers gonna fake and all that. I’m under no illusions that the cameras following me and my best friend Karla around are going to be doing so as they instruct us on what to do, what to say, what to eat. But it’s this that might help me on my way to true independence.

  I apply my make-up to camera, taking the viewer through all the steps necessary to create a healthy, glowing look.

  I finish the video—I’ll edit it later—and then I take a photo of myself looking coy and post to Instagram with a stream of hashtags about mystery destinations and big secrets. My followers lap it up, all 2.6 million of them, and it’s that which has the Millennium Television Company banking on a successful new reality show. That and Lord Forbes’ daughter, Karla. Karla is a society sweetheart, always in the newspapers for what she does for charity, her parents being close friends of the royal family.

  My bedroom door flies open and the woman herself comes in flinging herself on my bed. “I’m not happy, Mi
a, not happy at all.” She rolls onto her back and dramatically kicks her feet up and down on the bed.

  “So you keep saying.” I smile, spritzing myself in my favourite D&G parfum.

  “But why do you get to meet him first? I’m calling dibs regardless.” She turns onto her stomach and pouts at me. “Say you have the stomach flu and let me take your place.”

  “No.” I widen my eyes. “I want my interview over and done with. You’re used to this sort of thing. I’m not.”

  “Yes, you’re an interview virgin and I bet that’s just how Mr. King likes them.” She sighs again. “He’s huge you know apparently. Like you can’t walk after, HUGE.”

  Karla has been going on about this Deacon King guy now for twenty-four hours straight, ever since the PR company told us we’d been lined up for an interview and shoot. We’re not entirely sure why they’re interviewing us separately, but we’re learning fast that we just need to do as we’re told.

  “How are you not excited about seeing Deacon fucking King?” she screeches at me.

  I sit down on the floor next to where she’s propped up on the edge of my bed and thank God my trousers are so skinny there’s no chance of a wrinkle. “Because I’ve never heard of him,” I say truthfully. “I’ve heard of B.A.D. Who hasn’t? It’s one of the biggest selling men’s glossies on the planet, but I don’t know any of the staff. Why would I? How come you do?”