The Sea Witch: A Wicked Villains Novel

by Robert, Katee

  I toss the flogger aside and walk to press against his back, relishing his hissed exhale at the contact. “Do you feel better, lover?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” His voice has gone dreamy and low.

  My irritation has long since passed. Maybe we needed this, a touchstone before the week begins in earnest. I move back enough to untie my robe and let it fall to the ground. When I press against him again, it’s skin to skin. I reach around and laugh a little when I find his cock hard. “Get on the bed, Alaric.”

  He moves slowly, as if in a daze. I’ll have to bring him back down to earth before I send him back to the spare bedroom. I wait for him to lie down on his back and then climb up to straddle his hips. I press my hands to his chest, press his aching back more firmly against the mattress. “Did you like fucking that virgin pussy?”

  He cries out and writhes beneath me. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “It wasn’t enough for you, though, was it? Once is never enough for you.” I reach between us and guide his cock into me. I have to close my eyes for a moment. This never gets old. No matter where Alaric and I misstep in other areas, we are consistent here. Our needs fit each other’s too well to give up. I work myself down his cock and then open my eyes to find him watching me with a dazed expression on his handsome face.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he gasps. He tentatively reaches out. “Can I—”

  “Touch me.” Another time I’d make him lie there perfectly still while I fuck him slowly, coming over and over again while he’s denied that final pleasure. Not tonight. I want it quick and dirty. I ride him as he palms my breasts, his expression rapturous. Pleasure rises in steady waves, driven by how good he feels inside me, by the worshipful way he watches me fuck him. I press two fingers into his mouth. He opens eagerly, sucking me deep and stroking me with his tongue. This man really is a joy, even if he’s high maintenance as hell.

  I withdraw my fingers and begin stroking my clit, intent on my pleasure. “Don’t you dare come first.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinds out, the hoarseness of his words giving lie to them. He’s dancing on the edge.

  I slow down, torturing us both as I lift myself and sink down his length. “You feel good inside me, lover. You feel like mine.”

  “I am.” His whole body is one long line of tension as he struggles to obey my command not to orgasm. “I’m yours, Mistress.”

  I come hard, and as I begin to lose control, Alaric grabs my hips and keeps me fucking his cock, drawing out my orgasm even as he fights his own. I half collapse, catching myself on his chest. “Now you have permission to come.”

  He drives up into me, his expression agonized as he follows me over the edge. I roll my hips a little, enjoying the feeling of him softening inside me, enjoying how possessive it makes me. My cock, my Alaric, mine. It doesn’t matter that I’m sending him back to Zurielle in a few moments because in this moment he is undeniably mine.

  I press a kiss to his lips and climb off him. “Do you feel better?”

  “Yes.” It comes out as a sigh.

  It’s so tempting to tell him to stay. To finish getting ready for bed and tuck him in next to me and spend the night with his comforting weight against my body. To just…let down the barriers for a little while, set down the weight I’ve carried for so long. To let myself rest.

  I can’t do it.

  I care about Alaric, but I don’t trust him. Not entirely. He’s too wrapped up in himself and now in Zurielle. The entire time I’ve known him, he’s been essentially owned by Hades because of the reckless decision he made in Olympus. Even throwing in his support with me is reckless. Alaric is reckless.

  I have sacrificed too much and done too many terrible things to put my territory at risk for something as mundane as love.

  If I let Alaric in, if I allow him to be a full partner, he won’t stop being reckless. And then I will have to manage his decisions in addition to everything else already on my plate. There may come a time when I’m willing to take that risk, but not now, not when I’m finally on the verge of bringing Triton down a few notches.

  So I turn away, even though it hurts to do it, and grab my robe off the floor. “Your choices for the night remain the same. Your bedroom or the balcony.” I force steel into my spine despite the exhaustion threatening to bow my shoulders. “Don’t be here when I get back.” I walk into the bathroom and shut the door.

  As tempting as it is to stand there and listen to ensure he obeys, I busy myself with getting ready for bed. It doesn’t take long to wash my face, brush my teeth, and lotion up my body. I wrap my hair and take a deep breath. If he tries to challenge me on this, I’ll be forced to punish him, which means my night will have just gotten longer.

  But when I walk out of the bathroom, my room is empty.

  I waste no time walking to the door and locking it. When I deal with Zurielle and Alaric tomorrow, it will be on my terms. I’m heading to the bed when my phone rings.

  I stare at it, allowing myself to actually consider not answering. It’s not really an option, but the fantasy is pretty all the same. The name scrolling across my screen is a familiar one, though. I’m smiling as swipe to accept the call. “You’re so nosy, Malone.”

  “I gave you an appropriate amount of time before I called. Not even you can give a virgin enough endurance to last all night.” There’s a thread of amusement in her cold tone, something very few people ever get to witness.

  “You’re underestimating me.”

  “Obviously I’m not or you wouldn’t be answering right now.”

  I snort and climb into bed. “And your night ended early if you’re calling me.”

  Malone’s silent for a few moments. “It just doesn’t hold the same attraction at the moment.”

  It’s as close to a confession as she’ll ever get. Up until recently, Malone and I were the only women territory leaders in Carver City. Now we had two more—Jasmine Sarraf and Cordelia Belmonte—but they’re both young and green and focused on solidifying their power base as new leaders. Malone and I went through those steps at nearly the same time well over a decade ago. That sort of thing bonds a person, and we’ve created a solid friendship as a result.

  I grin. “If you’d just take her, you wouldn’t have to brood about everyone else who is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But the snap in her tone belies her words.

  I glance at my door, sparing a thought to wondering if Alaric and Zurielle are fighting again or if they’ve managed to ice each other out enough to get some sleep. Either way, they’ll be primed and ready for me tomorrow. “I know a thing or two about taking what you want, Malone. If you’re concerned about it becoming messy, just put an external timer on it.”

  She chuckles drily. “You be sure to tell me how un-messy things are at the end of this week.”

  “I have a plan. It’s not changing for the gods or Zeus.”

  “I hope it doesn’t. A million dollars for that girl.” I don’t have to see her to know she’s shaking her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “As I said—I have a plan. Speaking of, I need to go.”

  “Yeah, me too.” The thread of exhaustion is back in her tone, but she sounds like she’s smiling. “Have fun with your little pets, Ursa. You deserve a little pleasure after all the sacrifices you’ve made.”

  “You do, too.”

  Naturally, she doesn’t respond to that. “Good night.” Malone hangs up.

  I set my phone down and sigh. The next seven days are for pleasure, yes, but they’re also serving a purpose. I can’t afford to forget that truth, no matter how much fun I’m having toying with Zurielle and Alaric.

  One misstep, and this will all end in ruin.

  Chapter 14

  Zurielle

  The sound of the door opening has me sitting up and clutching the sheet to my chest. Alaric walks in with his hands up as if warding off an attack. “I’m just following orders.”

/>   Just following orders.

  Does he understand how those words cut me to the quick? They’re yet another reminder that he never wanted me, was never the nice guy I believed when I met him back in Olympus. I have never felt so young and foolish as I do now, and I hate it. I want to keep lashing out with my words until he hurts as much as I am right now. Until he doubts his very instincts and questions everything.

  Too bad my words bounce off him as if from impenetrable stone. He’d have to care what I think in order to be hurt by me.

  Somehow, that stings more than anything else so far.

  I point at him. “If you climb into this bed, I will smother you in your sleep.”

  He stops at the edge of the mattress. He’s still as naked as I am, and even as much fury surges through me, I can’t help noticing how perfectly formed he is. All chiseled lines and hard planes, a body made for doing. If I let myself, I can still feel his broad hands on my hips. On other parts of me.

  He’s been gone for a long time, and there’s a new tiredness on his face and present in the line of his shoulders that wasn’t there before. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.” Alaric shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know if Ursa wants us to fight or fuck, but I don’t have energy for either right now.”

  I should fight until we’re at a standstill and then keep silent for the rest of the week. I’ve already been so foolish, and wanting answers from him sets me up to prove I haven’t learned anything from this. Better to just ride this week out and then walk away, taking my absurd amount of money with me. It’s more than enough to set me up anywhere I want to go, to start a new life away from Olympus and Carver City and this entire corner of the country.

  But as I stare at Alaric while he awaits my response, I can’t build up my walls fast enough. “I just want to know why.” My voice breaks on the last word. “I deserve that much.”

  He sighs and drags his hand through his dark hair. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then tell me.”

  One corner of his mouth kicks up. “Promise you won’t kick me out of bed again.”

  “No.” I hesitate. “But I won’t do it tonight unless you give me reason to.”

  “Guess that’s as good as I can ask for.” He climbs onto the mattress, moving slowly as if in pain.

  It’s not until he turns to adjust the blanket that I see his back. “Alaric, what happened?”

  His soft smile is completely at odds with the marks on his back that are already darkening to bruises. “I had a good beating. That’s all.”

  “Ursa did this.”

  “Yes.” He gives himself a shake and seems to zero back in on me. “Because I asked her to.”

  I swallow my next words, ones that make all sorts of assumptions, and try to think. I know about kink, at least in theory. When Alaric went back to the Underworld, I spent a lot of time researching what exactly goes on in a place like that. There’s nothing about the actual Underworld on the internet, of course, but there are other more public places that cater to similar clientele and tastes.

  Not to mention I saw the things on the list I filled out before the auction. I am aware that some people enjoy pain the same way others enjoy a fine wine. Layers upon layers depending on the instruments used and the game being played out.

  It just never occurred to me that Alaric might be one of those people.

  “Is she going to beat me?”

  “Do you want her to?”

  I don’t know. A few days ago, I would have conclusively said no, but now I’m not sure of anything. “May I see?”

  Alaric considers me for a few moments and then shrugs. “If you want to.” He rolls over and settles himself face-down on the bed.

  I should be asking questions right now, demanding answers, but I shift closer and tug the blanket down to bare his back. Just like I suspected from my glimpse, he’ll be sporting quite an array of bruises by morning. It spreads down his back and farther, disappearing beneath the blanket. “What did she use?”

  “A flogger.”

  She’s been very careful, I think. There are welts, but no cuts mar his skin. “Does she ever make you bleed?”

  Alaric shifts restlessly. “Sometimes.”

  My body flushes hot, but I can’t quite quantify my reaction. Am I jealous that he got this part of Ursa after I was sent away? Am I afraid that I’ll be asked to submit to the same thing? Do I want to submit to the same thing?

  I don’t know. I just don’t know.

  I move away. None of this changes anything. I can’t let myself get distracted by curiosity. “Tell me why.”

  He sighs and turns his face toward me. “I wasn’t lying when I told you how I ended up at the Underworld.”

  “But you weren’t telling the full truth either.”

  “No, I wasn’t telling the full truth, either.” He looks at me, really looks at me. “Do you know what your father does for Poseidon?”

  “He’s the second-in-command.”

  “Yes, but do you know what that really means?”

  I search for the answer he’s obviously looking for. “He handles a lot of the day-to-day stuff at the marina, the imports and export schedule and the like.”

  Alaric’s mouth twists. “Yes, half of which is illegal.”

  I blink. “What? But why would he do something illegal? Olympus is a port city. It has an incredible economy.” Olympus is dangerous. I know that, even if I sometimes believe my father exaggerates the danger to keep me and my sisters under lock and key. The Thirteen rule and they’re all but above the law. It takes something as simple as catching Zeus’s eye or pissing off Aphrodite and an entire person’s world can come crashing down around them. But my father? A criminal?

  “Zuri.” He clears his throat. “Zurielle. That’s incredibly naive. The illegal shit funds just as much of Olympus as the legal stuff, if not more. Poseidon and your father have their hands on all of it.”

  My father is involved in illegal activity? I’m already shaking my head even as I try to wrap my mind around what he’s saying. “Impossible.”

  “Hardly.”

  “My father is one of the most uptight and overprotective people in existence. He has rules upon rules upon rules. A person like that doesn’t break the law. He worships the law.”

  “You know better. Those rules apply to his daughters—to you. Not to him.” He sighs. “But all this is to say that I, ah, misplaced one of the shipments.”

  Easy enough to read between those lines. “You stole.”

  His lips quirk. “Yes, I stole, though it was already stolen goods, so it wasn’t like he had a leg to stand on when it came to morals. Your father didn’t see things that way.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “He tracked me down, but I’d already, uh, found the item a new home. So he offered me a choice—reimburse the amount owed or he’d take out payment in broken bones. If I chose the latter option, I’d run out of bones before the debt was fulfilled.”

  It’s so brutal, I don’t want to believe it. But Alaric says it drily, as if it’s barely worth noting that my father apparently was willing to use deadly force as a form of punishment. “He wouldn’t.” But then, what do I know of my father’s work, really? I’ve already proven woefully inadequate at asking questions to get to the truth. I was wrong about Alaric. Who’s to say I’m not wrong about my father, too?

  He has a tremendous rage. He always has. When he’s furious, he gets so red, it always terrified me as a child, even if he never touched us in anger. But we’re his children. Does he show the same restraint with people he doesn’t love?

  I don’t like the turn my thoughts have taken. I don’t like them at all. “You’d sold it. Why not just use that money to repay him?”

  “It went elsewhere.”

  I frown. “What do you mean, it went elsewhere? What did you spend it on?” Alaric has worked for Hades for nearly eight years. He’s paid off most of the debt and he still had a quarter million left to go. How c
ould he have possibly spent it before my father got to him?

  His expression is closed to me. But then, it always was, even when it appeared open. I can’t trust anything he says, but this whole story has a ring of truth to it.

  Or maybe I’m just a fool who hasn’t learned my lesson.

  “Where did it go?” I ask again.

  He exhales slowly and closes his eyes. “Did you know I’m originally from Sabine Valley?”

  I blink. “No, I didn’t know that.” I’d just assumed either Carver City or, more likely, Olympus.

  “I spent most of my time growing up in Olympus, but my uncle and cousins used to run a territory in Sabine. They were betrayed. My uncle was killed and my cousins were forced to flee for their lives. They needed the money. We weren’t exactly close, but family is family. It seemed a small enough price to pay. It was only one job to ensure they were able to have enough money to disappear and stay safe.”

  I search his face. Is this the truth or more lies? I thought I could tell the difference, but I’m doubting myself now. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust my instincts again. “If that’s the case—”

  “It is.”

  “Why not tell my father? Surely he would—”

  Alaric snorts. “Your father doesn’t give a fuck about me. He doesn’t give a fuck about the people who are hurt in Olympus by the drugs that come in. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything but maintaining the status quo and lining his pockets with money and power.”

  He paints such a horrible picture of my father. I don’t—I can’t believe it. “So you fled to Hades.”

  “He has a dearth of male submissives. He was willing to loan me the money in exchange for my working in the Underworld while I repaid it.”

  “You exchanged money for sex.”

  His lips quirk. “Let’s not throw stones from glass houses.”

  He’s right, of course, but I’m not judging him. If he’s telling the truth, he was in an impossible situation. And the money went to help his family, though if they ruled one-third of Sabine Valley, they aren’t good people. No territory leaders are.