Her Price, His Obsession (Erotic Billionaire/Dark Romance)

"Sir, you'll be paying extra for cumming in my mouth. You don't get the normal price. I didn't fucking ask you to unload there," Bella said coldly.

"Whether you have the extra money or not is your problem, not mine. It's either that...or I break your head into tiny pieces."

She knew how pathetic it sounded. She knew how low this was. But she was already at the edge, with bills due by morning and no other option in sight.

The drunk man staggered as he zipped up his pants, his eyes roaming over her with lazy lust. He reached out and spanked her ass.

"So you won't let me fuck your fat ass, huh?" he slurred.

Bella slapped him hard, disgust curling in her stomach at how low she'd sunk to deal with men like him.

"You should be grateful I didn't spit your sour sperm on your face or bite off that useless little cock," she snapped. "A tool that can't even satisfy my ass. Don't piss me off, fool. Give me forty dollars."

He rubbed his cheek and smirked. "Cheap slut."

Bella rolled her eyes. She was immune to insults...she'd heard them all. She held out her hand as the man counted a few bills and dropped them into her palm.

She glared at him, wet her finger with her tongue, and counted again.

"What's this?" she snapped. "There's only thirty dollars here."

"I'll give you forty," he said, smirking, "if you let me fuck you."

Bella clenched her fist in anger. She dropped the money onto the table and grabbed the man by the collar, her palms folding as she raised her hand, ready to punch the life out of him.

The door swung open suddenly

"You slut!" a woman screamed. "What are you doing with my husband?"

She rushed toward Bella, who ducked and snatched the money. Some of it spilled to the floor as she bolted for the door, running into the night and glancing back every few steps to make sure the woman wasn't following.

This was her daily routine in this trashy neighborhood.

Since she turned eighteen, Bella had been surviving by selling her body. Now, at twenty-three, she was still at it...hell, she had lost count of how many cocks she'd serviced: big, small, medium, wrinkled, veiny, fat, long.

She took another turn, heading toward her shabby apartment, if it could even be called that and not a dump instead.

She opened the stupid lock easily, and walked in , sighing at the state of the whole place.

Peeling paint flaked from the walls. There was no electricity...just a short, almost finished candle she lit whenever she returned. An old bedsheet lay on the floor, serving as a bed. A single-burner stove sat crookedly in the corner and cheap grocery bags crowded what passed for a counter. The lock on the door was unreliable, though it hardly mattered; there was nothing of value to steal anyway.

Bella sank onto the patched-up