by Erika Wilde
His breathing was harsh and damp against her neck. “Jesus Christ, who knew you were such a filthy fucking girl who liked to fight dirty?” he mused, dark amusement threading his voice. “You like the struggle, don’t you? But mostly, you like this part. Where you fight and I dominate and control and take.”
She did . . . Oh, God, she did. Her skin flushed hotly, and a whimpering sound escaped from her throat at the thought of him doing dirty, wicked, shameless things to her body. She’d had no idea that such depraved behavior could turn her on so much, that a man’s sexually aggressive nature could make her submit willingly just to experience such power and immense pleasure.
But this man made her want it all.
“Make no mistake, Bella,” he went on in a silky-smooth voice as the fingers between her legs began dancing across her sensitive clit again in slow, torturous circles, and he turned her head just slightly so he could look at her face, though his hand remained anchored around her throat. “I could take you just like this, but I promised you I wouldn’t. Under normal circumstances, your little act of rebellion would earn you the flat of my hand against your tender ass, but I’m feeling benevolent this time . . . and selfishly, I want to watch you come for me. It isn’t going to take much, is it?”
The way his hand pressed firmly against her jaw, she couldn’t shake her head in answer. But yes, she was so ramped up that, with every illicit caress he made against that hard, aching nub of flesh, the monstrous need grew, so swift and so strong her entire body began to shake with the force of the orgasm threatening to overwhelm her.
He eased his hold on her chin, let his fingers relax from around her throat as the peak of rapture spilled through her veins. All the while he kept his dark, hot gaze on her face, watching every nuance, every reaction, his own expression etched with a lust and hunger that escalated her ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, and her lips parted on a soft cry as her climax engulfed her utterly and completely, unlike anything her body had ever experienced before.
He only gave her a few extra seconds to come down from the high before he released her legs, then flipped her around so that she was facing him. He grabbed the backs of her thighs in his hands and jerked her upward so that she was straddling his legs and his erection jutted between them beneath the surface of the water.
“Put your hands on my cock,” he ordered, his voice a hoarse, desperate rasp of sound as he plowed all ten fingers into her hair, knocking the pins from the upswept strands as he brought her face closer to his, the color of his eyes like molten gold. “Wrap all ten fingers around me and stroke my dick, nice and tight, from the base all the way up to the head.”
Wanting to please him more than she wanted her next breath, she did everything he asked, at first awkwardly. She might have seen penises in pictures and online, but this was the first time she’d ever held one in her hands, and he was huge. But she managed to find a rhythm that made him groan like a dying man, and with his hands framing her face, he brought her mouth to his in a deeply searing kiss. She immediately opened to the hungry thrust of his tongue, savoring the dark, intoxicating flavor that was uniquely his, while trying her best to keep her grip on his shaft as tight as possible as his hips started to thrust erratically, his cock jackhammering between the pressure and friction of her palms.
He seemed to grow harder and thicker in her hands, if that was even possible. Then he was growling roughly against her lips, his body stiffening, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth as he gasped and grunted, his muscles tensing as he embraced his own orgasm. He tore his mouth from hers, let his head drop back against the rim of the tub as a hoarse, animal-like sound rose from his chest, then broke free from his throat.
His control seemed to shatter. Dirty, filthy, obscene words fell from his lips, and his hands released her hair and gripped the porcelain ledge, as if he needed the anchor as his hips jerked and his body shuddered. Against her clasped palms, she felt a pulsing sensation like a volatile heartbeat and glanced down to where she was still stroking him with both hands, watching in pure fascination as a thick stream of hot, slick fluid erupted from the engorged head with each subsequent throb of the bulging vein that ran beneath the length of his erection.
She’d never seen anything as hot, wild, or primitive as Maddux in the throes of pleasure, and even after, when he tried to catch his breath. As she tentatively, experimentally squeezed the flushed, swollen tip of his shaft and caressed her thumb over that plump flesh, his hips flexed and he cursed, grabbing both her hands beneath the water and yanking them away from his still-hard flesh.
“Trust me, vixen, there’s not a drop of come left in me after that release,” he said, his thumbs rubbing the insides of her wrists as he placed her hands on his chest. “Just like your clit is sensitive after an orgasm, my dick is, too.”
She had no idea, and she couldn’t deny that everything about his body enthralled her and made her want to learn more. She lifted her gaze to Maddux’s, his expression more relaxed than she’d seen it since they’d met, and a part of her recognized that she was responsible for that calm, satisfied look on his face.
The realization was a heady one. As was the awareness that she’d had the ability to strip away all that power and control he wore like a shield and had reduced him to just a man responding to her touch and the pleasure she’d given him.
She licked her bottom lip, and his heavy-lidded gaze tracked the glide of her tongue. “That was . . . incredible. You’re incredible,” she added, and though that second sentence had been spontaneous, it was the truth.
Those honest words caused something intimate and unexpected to shift between them. There was no denying Maddux was a complex man with deeply rooted anger because of her father’s actions, along with a brash attitude meant to keep him from forming close relationships outside of his siblings, and with her specifically. But with his defenses lowered like this, she was beginning to suspect that his brusque demeanor was his way of camouflaging the real and varying range of his emotions that showed a caring, humane, and compassionate side to his personality. One he didn’t like on display, as was evident in the way his mercurial mood shifted once again and his placid features hardened over.
An almost cruel smile twisted his lips. “Don’t mistake sexual gratification for anything more from me,” he said, shattering the harmonious moment between them. “Because I guarantee if you romanticize this arrangement, you’ll be disillusioned and sorely disappointed when it ends.”
With that, he abruptly stood up, sloshing water all over the place and forcing Arabella to move to the other side of the tub to give him the room he clearly wanted and needed. Beyond being modest with him, she brazenly took in the sight of him . . . magnificently naked and dripping wet, with rivulets of water mapping a course down his beautifully honed body.
He grabbed a large towel off the heating rack and wrapped it around his waist, not looking at her. “My sister brought up some things for you to wear until your clothes arrive, and I have work I need to do, so I’ll be in my office and don’t want to be disturbed unless it’s an emergency.”
He walked out of the bathroom, dismissing her. Clearly, escaping to his office was Maddux’s way of shutting her out, and Arabella would be a bald-faced liar if she said that his disregard didn’t hurt after what they’d just shared. Then again, she supposed their mutual pleasure had provided a far more intimate connection for her than for an experienced man like Maddux, who was no doubt used to sexually sophisticated women who didn’t romanticize their encounters with him.
But even knowing that, she didn’t regret what had just happened, not when everything about his confident control had awakened those illicit desires she’d always harbored deep inside. It was as though he’d put a match to a flame, and she’d do anything to please him, already knowing her submission, just like she’d offered a short while ago, would ultimately be rewarded with the sweetest ecstasy.
For the most part, she’d remained a virgin because no man had ever come close
to arousing her mind and body the way Maddux just had, and she’d always known that sweet and gentle and considerate sex didn’t appeal to her. No, the images that filled her mind while masturbating had always featured a dark, edgy, sexually assertive man who dominated all her senses. She’d always believed her fantasies were depraved and taboo and perverse . . . until now, with Maddux.
It was as though she’d been waiting for the right man to come along, who knew exactly what her body craved and how to indulge those shameless needs she’d only entertained in her head.
But never, even in her wildest dreams, would she believe that man would come in the form of one who only wanted her for revenge.
Chapter 13
Maddux had no idea when he’d grown a conscience as far as his plans for retribution against Theodore went. After years of devising the other man’s ruin, he’d allowed a woman to fuck everything up. Taking Arabella in exchange for Theodore had been a spontaneous choice and a huge mistake, and that was even more clear to him after his tryst with her in the bathtub.
He didn’t expect someone as sweet and guileless as Arabella to be so uninhibited . . . or that she’d enjoy his brand of sexual dominance. Even as a virgin, and despite her sass and stubborn attitude, it was clear that she was a submissive creature who liked being restrained and forced to cede her pleasure to him. And Jesus Christ, she’d been so fucking perfect and beautiful when he’d finally allowed her to come, and even more stunning when she obeyed his order to get him off right after that. She might have been inexperienced when it came to jerking a man off, but she’d been an eager and devoted learner, and he’d been so fucking helpless to resist her zealous attempts.
But it was the aftermath of that encounter and the soft, starry-eyed way she’d looked up at him that had delivered a hard and much needed jolt of reality to what had just happened. Especially when his sister’s earlier warning about Arabella being vulnerable in this situation, and to Maddux’s intentions, added to the turmoil swirling inside him.
He exhaled on an irritable growl and spun his leather chair around to look out the office windows instead of staring at his computer screen, because his concentration at the moment was shit anyway.
When had he become such an unscrupulous, apathetic asshole that he’d take an innocent woman and use her as a pawn in this dangerous game with Theodore? When he’d accepted her proposition, it had been on the premise of making her father, and Gavin, suffer. Knowing that Arabella was under his command and thinking the worst of her situation and letting that knowledge eat them both up inside.
Yes, he’d initially intended to corrupt Arabella as part of his plan and send her back to her father after stripping her of her innocence, but after what had happened between them in the bathroom, he’d felt an unpredicted emotional shift inside of him. Especially when it occurred to him that Arabella would have willingly surrendered her body and her virtue to him if he’d wanted to fuck her. No questions asked.
In an unusual flash of integrity, he’d realized that her virginity wasn’t his to steal on the basis of anger and resentment toward another person. He didn’t have it in him to destroy her or defile her, and he couldn’t take something so significant that didn’t belong to him, no matter how badly he wanted to be the first and only man to possess her so completely. He was far from being a man worthy of that offering, and he certainly had nothing substantial to give a kindhearted woman like Arabella in return. He didn’t do love, and he most definitely didn’t believe in happily ever afters.
Bottom line, Arabella had no hand in his parents’ deaths and her only misfortune was having been sired by an evil, unethical man. Maddux refused to break her spirit or crush her self-esteem. Holding her captive wasn’t about what his dick wanted. It was all about psychological warfare against Theodore, but even with that understanding, Maddux wondered if the other man was really concerned about his daughter’s welfare at this point, or more relieved that he wasn’t currently in jeopardy of having his entire life implode. Arabella had selflessly given him that reprieve.
Maddux rubbed a weary hand along his jaw, deciding he’d keep Arabella a week—while doing his best to avoid her and the temptation she’d presented—which would give him time to formulate what move he wanted and needed to make next.
The chiming sound of the elevator approaching his penthouse pulled Maddux out of his thoughts, and he swiveled his chair back to his desk and switched on his security monitor to oversee the delivery of Arabella’s personal items. He’d received a text a short while ago that Milo and Cooper, two of his trusted security guys, were on their way back from Theodore’s with what they were able to collect.
Surprisingly, as they’d told him via text message, Theodore hadn’t resisted or given his men any flack about gathering his daughter’s clothing and toiletries. The man’s passive demeanor was another thing that led Maddux to believe that Arabella’s father was taking advantage of his respite, at his daughter’s expense.
A few seconds later, both Milo and Cooper stepped from the elevator, each of them rolling two suitcases. One of the many security cameras in his apartment showed Arabella, wearing the black leggings and blouse Tempest had lent her, in his bedroom. At the sound of the elevator, she’d walked into the living room to see who’d arrived. Because his security system had audio, he turned up the volume and was able to listen to their conversation, which mainly consisted of Arabella politely thanking his men for delivering her things.
Once they were gone, Maddux should have switched off the monitor, but instead he leaned back in the chair and watched Arabella put away her clothing in his closet and her toiletries in his bathroom, mixing her feminine stuff with his masculine items when he’d never before had a woman’s things cluttering up his vanity. When all that was done, she grabbed a small computer tablet, made herself comfortable on his living room couch, and started to read.
Again, Maddux could have shut down the feed, but even as he brought up work emails on his computer to go through, he kept the security monitor on Arabella. A few hours passed as she lost herself in her book, then fell asleep . . . and even though she was essentially doing nothing but relaxing all afternoon, he found himself enjoying watching her way too much.
She woke up and stretched languidly, his unruly dick stirring at the soft, sexy groaning noise she made as she elongated her limbs. She stood up, her head tipping curiously to the side as she peered up at one of the small cameras mounted in the corner of the room. She moved closer to it, an amused smile curving her lips as she stared straight into the lens . . . and essentially, straight at him.
“I’m assuming this is a fancy security system considering what you do for a living,” she said, talking to him as if he was in the room with her. “And that little red light is probably on because you’re watching and listening to me, which isn’t fair because I can’t see you,” she added with a cute little pout. “As I’m sure you saw, it’s been an incredibly boring Sunday afternoon, and I hope you’re getting a ton of work done locked up in your office. I have strict orders not to bother you . . . but I am kind of curious what would happen if I deliberately ignored your growly, grouchy demand and was a bit of a nuisance while you worked.”
Her big blue eyes filled with mischief as she thoughtfully tapped a finger against her chin. “I’m thinking maybe I’d deserve one of those spankings you mentioned, for being so defiant.”
A low, heated growl rose up from his chest and tightened his cock at the brazen suggestion, along with the way she so ingenuously blinked her lashes up at him when she knew exactly what she was saying and doing. She was fearlessly goading him, and his goddamn palm itched to show her just how good and arousing that punishment could feel.
As difficult as it was, he tamped down the urge to walk out into the living room, bend her over the back of the couch, pull down her pants, and call her bluff. But he’d just vowed to keep his distance from Arabella, and his hands off her, and if his palm so much as made contact with her bare ass, it wouldn’t stop
at one playful swat. No, it would end with her moaning for more and his fingers sliding deep inside her drenched pussy.
A soft little sigh slipped past her lips and reached his ears through the speakers. “You know, even though I’m tempted to interrupt you while you’re working, I’m going to be a good girl and behave, even if I’m coming to realize that it is way more fun being bad.” She delivered that with a naughty smile. “By the way, I’m starved and I’m going to make something for dinner, just in case you’re hungry and you want to join me and have some friendly conversation.”
She waited a handful of seconds, staring up at the camera expectantly, as if waiting for him to answer . . . then spoke again. “Hmm. I’ll take it by your silence that’s a no,” she said, her tone light and teasing.
She was so adorable she made him fucking laugh. A genuine chuckle that was rare for him. The speaker wasn’t two-way, so he couldn’t have answered anyway, but just the fact that she was carrying on this ridiculous and amusing one-way conversation with herself had him unable to turn off the monitor or look away. He didn’t want to miss a thing.
Leaving the living room, she sauntered into the kitchen, and as soon as she spied the camera pointed in that direction, she grinned and waved at him. “Hey, it’s you again!” she said gregariously, even though she couldn’t have been one hundred percent certain he was watching her. “So, let’s see what I have to work with for dinner.”
She opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “Since you’re not here to tell me what I can and can’t use, everything is game as far as I’m concerned.”
She pulled out a carton of heavy whipping cream, a flat of fresh mushrooms, an onion, garlic, and butter. Then she started searching through his cupboards, adding a can of chicken broth to those items, a container of flour, and some spices. And then she proceeded to entertain him as she made fresh cream of mushroom soup from scratch, while providing hilarious commentary as she cut the onion and garlic and stirred in all the ingredients.
