Total Surrender

by Erika Wilde

  She’d moaned with delight around his cock, and with him reclining against the headboard and her positioned between his spread legs, he’d had a direct view of his dick sliding past her wet lips, her opening as wide as she could and doing her best to swallow him, and learning to relax her gag reflexes when he hit the back of her throat. The last part hadn’t been easy, but with him buried as deep as he could go in her mouth, and his hand holding the back of her head in place, she’d learned quickly to breathe through her nose and not choke on the head of his dick.

  Hearing him groan and feeling his big body shudder in pleasure as she licked and sucked and savored his cock completely turned her on, too. Made her so restless and enflamed she felt as though she could orgasm without a touch.

  “You like sucking me off, don’t you, sweet, filthy girl?” he’d murmured as he eased back to let her catch her breath before sliding his shaft right back in again, forcing himself a little deeper.

  With her mouth full, she’d whimpered her reply and cast her eager gaze up to his so he could see for himself how much she enjoyed pleasing him, how much she loved sharing something so hot and erotic and intimate with him.

  “Finger your pussy,” he’d ordered gruffly, and she’d gladly obeyed.

  Her hand moved down between her thighs, her fingers sliding through flesh already so slick and needy she almost jumped at the contact. Her clit was swollen and stiff and aching, and she knew it would only take a few firm strokes to make herself climax.

  “Don’t you dare fucking come until I do,” he growled, his amber eyes rimmed with a fiery gold and his features etched with lust as he flexed his hips, reminding her who was in charge and shifting her attention back to the slow, wicked drag of his cock along her tongue and the insistent press of his hand against the back of her head as he pushed all the way back in.

  Stroking her drenched folds and bringing herself to the edge of orgasm, then backing off before it completely consumed her was the sweetest kind of torture. And as her desire grew, as her need for release clawed at her restraint, she doubled her efforts to get him off, sucking him more greedily, more deeply, more eagerly, already knowing his climax would directly trigger hers.

  His breathing grew choppy and erratic. Beneath the hand she’d placed on his thigh, she felt his muscles tense. His hips jerked, and he groaned as the thick vein in his cock pulsed against her tongue, and the hot, male taste of him flooded her mouth.

  She rubbed her clitoris, finally allowing herself to hit that peak, too, her body convulsing and inarticulate sounds vibrating along her vocal cords as she tried to keep up with the steady stream of his come hitting the back of her throat.

  “Fuuccckk,” he yelled, his voice hoarse as his hips instinctively surged up toward her mouth with each ongoing spurt. “Suck and swallow, Bella.”

  God, she had, so deep and so hard, until there was nothing left but his harsh breathing filling his bedroom, and both of their orgasms slowly receded and left them satisfied and awash with physical bliss.

  Afterward, they’d shared a shower and breakfast, and he’d shocked her by kissing her before leaving for the MadX-Tech offices for the day. The way his mouth seduced hers had been slower and sweeter than his normal bold, aggressive approach, and while experiencing that affectionate side of Maddux made her heart melt, she knew not to read too much into that romantic gesture so she didn’t set herself up for disappointment.

  Sex with Maddux had definitely forged an intimacy between them, but she also knew how easily something else could shatter the fragile truce between them. Until things were resolved with her father, she had no idea where she really stood with Maddux or if there was any chance that she could come to mean more to him than being a pawn in his game of revenge against her dad.

  “Hey, are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

  Startled out of her private thoughts by her boss’s voice, Arabella jumped in her chair, banging her knee on an open desk drawer. She winced, hating that she’d been caught daydreaming, to the extent she hadn’t even seen or heard David approach her cubicle.

  “Sorry,” she murmured guiltily as she rubbed the sore spot on her knee just below the hem of her pencil skirt. “I’m just a little distracted today.” Thinking about how amazing it was to finally lose my virginity.

  “I noticed.” His brows furrowed in concern, but he didn’t question her further and instead placed some printouts on her desk. “Here’s those reports you asked for, but it’s already after five, so you can archive the information tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “That sounds good,” she said, nodding. “Have a good evening.”

  “You, too, Arabella.”

  Once David was gone, she shut down her computer, straightened her desk, and prioritized a stack of work she needed to tackle tomorrow. Her phone, which was sitting next to her keyboard, vibrated with a text. When she saw that it was from Maddux, a giddy feeling swirled inside her and she tapped on the message to read it.

  Something came up with a client I need to handle in the city, so I won’t be home until around seven this evening. Don’t wait for me to eat dinner, and there is no need for you to harp at me through the security cameras since I won’t be in my office to enjoy your amusing dialogue.

  His open communication and bit of humor was an improvement, too. He certainly didn’t have to explain his whereabouts to her, and the fact that he’d been thoughtful enough to do so made her smile.

  Milo met her outside of her work building to drive her back to Maddux’s, and she was grateful when she walked into the lobby and found it empty. No drama from Gavin today, thank goodness, but knowing the other man well, she wouldn’t be surprised if he tried yet again to “save” her.

  Up in the penthouse, she made herself a grilled chicken salad and poured a glass of the Pinot Noir that she and Maddux had enjoyed the night before with their meal. Afterward, when the kitchen was cleaned up, she headed into the bedroom to change for the evening. She caught sight of the blouse and leggings that Maddux’s sister, Tempest, had so graciously loaned her the other day. She’d already washed and folded them, and she decided that she ought to return the clothing and thank Tempest for a kindness she hadn’t had to bestow on Arabella, when she was certain the other woman had to harbor some semblance of resentment against Arabella for whatever her father had done to their family.

  After picking up the clothes, she headed two floors down to the level marked with a capital T. She wasn’t sure if Tempest had her apartment locked out as Maddux sometimes did, and was glad when the elevator chimed her arrival and the doors slid open on the other woman’s floor.

  As soon as she stepped foot out of the elevator, it hit Arabella that Tempest’s place was the opposite of Maddux’s. While his penthouse was sleek clean lines and minimal color, his sister had bright hues splashed all over the place, mostly as accent colors. Reds, oranges, yellows . . . they all blended together in a surprisingly tasteful way, and Arabella guessed the interior design of the place was an expression of Tempest’s personality, though she didn’t know the woman at all. But a person didn’t decorate with such vivid and dramatic flair if they didn’t have the bold demeanor to match.

  “Oh . . . Hi.” Tempest’s startled voice pulled Arabella’s gaze from a colorful, abstract sculpture she’d been admiring to the stunningly beautiful woman walking toward the entryway, her eyes wide with shock to see who her visitor was.

  Arabella smiled at Maddux’s sister and lifted the items in her hands so Tempest didn’t think she was trying to sneak around. “I’m sorry to surprise you, but I wanted to return the clothes you let me borrow. I really appreciate it, since I know it wasn’t something you had to do.”

  “You’re welcome.” Tempest took the blouse and leggings and gave Arabella a tentative smile. “It was the least I could do considering how things played out Saturday night. You weren’t part of the plan . . . and as much as Hunter and I are trying to understand Maddux’s decisions with everything that was at s
take, I’m not going to blame you for the things your father has done to my family.”

  There was a hint of compassion in Tempest’s voice toward Arabella that made her attempt to forge a rapport between them. “I have no idea what my father has done, but I know it had to have been something awful for Maddux to go to such extremes. My father won’t tell me the truth, and neither will Maddux. It’s very frustrating, actually, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d enlighten me.”

  Tempest hesitated a moment, as if she was considering how much to reveal, then gave her a head a small shake. “I can’t. I won’t. As much as I’d like to tell you every horrific thing your father and Gavin did to my parents, it’s not my place. I don’t know why Maddux accepted your proposition instead of just finishing off your father like we all agreed upon, so whatever is between you and my brother, it’s up to him to resolve the situation and decide how it’s going to all play out.”

  Arabella tried not to let her dissatisfaction show, though it was hard to fault Tempest for being loyal to her brother and trusting his choices so completely, even if Tempest didn’t agree with or like the decisions he’d made.

  “Is my brother treating you okay?” she asked, her tone more curious than concerned. “I know he can be a little . . . okay, a lot overbearing and moody, but beneath that gruff exterior, he’s really not such a bad guy. He just carries a lot of burden and responsibilities on those big shoulders of his, more than I think is necessary, but that’s always been Maddy,” she added affectionately. “Especially after losing our parents when we were all so young. He’s always been strong and controlled and driven to the extent that sometimes I feel as though he’s missing out on the really important things in life.”

  She didn’t elaborate on what she thought those important things were, but Arabella assured Tempest of her original question. “He’s been very good to me . . . considering the circumstances. He’s a decent and upstanding man, and from what I see and know, he’s struggling right now between good versus evil.”

  Tempest arched a brow in surprise as she held the clothes against her chest. “Wow . . . for you to say that, my brother must have given you a rare glimpse of the kinder, gentler man beneath his surly disposition. I’m shocked . . . I never thought he’d ever willingly expose that vulnerable part of himself to a woman. I mean, as his sister, I know it exists because I’ve seen that side of him, but the only people he’s really lowered his guard with are me and Hunter.”

  Arabella felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized that they were suddenly having a woman-to-woman conversation, that Maddux’s sister was intuitive enough to understand that there was something more between Arabella and Maddux . . . without coming outright and saying it. She wasn’t approving, but she wasn’t disapproving, either, and Arabella was grateful that Tempest wasn’t ostracizing her. And that she didn’t hate her for her father’s actions.

  “If what I sense is true between the two of you,” Tempest went on insightfully, a smile touching the corner of her mouth, “all I can say is try and be patient with Maddux. He doesn’t let people get close and I’d really hate to see him miss out on the one thing he’s never allowed himself to have. Ever.”

  Arabella didn’t know why Tempest was so accepting of her, but it spoke to the kind of woman she was. Forgiving. Soft-hearted. Understanding. At least when it came to her eldest sibling.

  “Thank you,” Arabella said, not ready to share her own emotions when it came to how she felt about Maddux. Just because she was falling hard for him didn’t mean he felt the same at all, and she was smart enough to keep that thought in the forefront in her mind.

  After Arabella’s interesting conversation with Tempest, she headed back up to Maddux’s floor. A glance at the time on her cell phone told her that he should be home soon, and she couldn’t contain the anticipation of seeing him and spending time with him.

  Arriving on his level, she walked out of the elevator and toward the living room, surprised to find Hunter standing over by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. He turned around, and when he saw it was her, a sneer formed on his lips right before he downed the rest of the amber liquid in the glass he held. He’d clearly arrived after she’d gone to Tempest’s place, and who knew how many glasses of alcohol he’d already consumed, but judging by the resentful look he cast Arabella’s way, things didn’t bode well for her.

  This Wilder sibling wasn’t as benevolent or compassionate as his sister had just been. No, there was loathing in his eyes as he raked his contemptuous gaze down the length of her, then back up again.

  “Ahhh, Maddux’s kept woman,” he said caustically as he set his empty glass on the living room table and slowly strolled toward where she was standing, stopping a few feet away. “What is it about you that’s gotten under my brother’s skin? That he’d so carelessly throw away fucking years of planning for a woman he should despise just as much as her father?”

  The anger in his voice was palpable, and Arabella lifted her chin and held her ground. “Whatever my father did, I had no part of.”

  “No, of course you didn’t,” he drawled in a patronizing tone, close enough now that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re Theodore’s blood, and you’re probably just as conniving as your father and you’re trying to mess with my brother’s head. But make no mistake, Arabella Cole. You’re nothing more than a harlot to him. A whore that he’s going to get tired of, and then he’ll get his shit together and finish what your father started and drag both Gavin and Theodore down to the depths of hell, where they fucking belong.”

  Arabella’s hands clutched into fists at her sides at Hunter’s derogatory remark, and keeping her own temper in check took effort. “Even though you deserve to be slapped across the face for your rude comment about me, I’m going to let it slide because you’re clearly drunk and angry.”

  “Why the fuck shouldn’t I be angry?” he yelled, loud and belligerent. “Your goddamn father killed our parents.”

  Arabella gasped, feeling as though all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room. Shock kept her entire body rooted to the spot, and she prayed that somehow, someway, she’d misheard Hunter. “What did you say?”

  “I said, your prick of a father killed my mother and father,” he said, his voice calmer but no less harsh. “All because he was so fucking greedy he extorted monthly payments from small businesses like my parents’ diner. And when they were so tapped out financially and couldn’t pay what Theodore demanded, he decided to teach them a lesson that cost both of them their lives.”

  The horrifying image that Hunter painted in Arabella’s mind caused hot tears to fill her eyes. “You have to be mistaken,” she rasped. She didn’t want to believe it. She was beginning to think her father was capable of many illegal and criminal activities, but murder? She was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the possibility, but if it was true, then oh, God . . .

  A sob escaped her throat, her heart felt as though it was splintering in two, and all she could think was that she had to confront her father, face-to-face. She desperately needed straight answers. No more evading her questions. No more lies. She had to look in his eyes and know if he was really capable of ending two innocent people’s lives.

  She spun around and rushed toward the elevator.

  “Where are you going?” Hunter demanded.

  He sounded so much like Maddux in that moment—authoritative and as though his voice alone ought to halt her in her tracks. But unlike his brother’s commands, Hunter’s brusque tone did nothing to dissuade Arabella. She had no loyalty to Hunter, and wasn’t this what he wanted? Her out of his brother’s life?

  “I’m going to find out the truth from my father,” she said, her voice a shredded wreck. “I need to hear it from him because I can’t believe he’d do something so horrific.” Or rather, she didn’t want to believe it, but the churning in her stomach was not a good omen.

  “Arabella, stop
,” Hunter said, more forcefully this time.

  She ignored him, her gaze going to the numbers above the elevator doors that indicated that someone was using the lift and heading to the upper floors. Feeling unsettled and anxious and upset, she decided she wasn’t going to wait around for the elevator to arrive when there was an alternate route that would get her to the lobby, then out to the main street, much quicker. And from there, once she was out of the building, she’d either catch a cab or call an Uber to take her to her father’s place in the city.

  Hearing Hunter’s footsteps behind her and not wanting to give him the chance to stop her from leaving, she darted down the side hallway and pushed out the emergency exit door that led to a stairwell. His string of curses hit her ears just as the door slammed shut behind her and she raced down the spiral of stairs until she burst free into the lobby, ran out the main doors of the building, and headed down the street toward the next block.

  Once and for all, Arabella wasn’t going to let up on her father until she knew everything, even if it was painful for her to hear—and dear God, she was expecting the worst. Because when her relationship with her father flashed through her mind, she realized she’d spent so many years away from home in boarding school and college. What did she really know about him, his business, and what he did outside of the idyllic home life he’d created for the two of them?

  She hadn’t known about her father’s gambling addiction or the astronomical debt he’d accumulated, or the fact that he’d willingly signed all his assets over to what had been the equivalent of a loan shark. They’d been living a lie and she hadn’t even known, and the possibility that her father was cold and calculating enough to extort money from small businesses—as Hunter had claimed—to possibly feed his gambling issue or fund their lavish lifestyle made her nauseous.

  Cars drove along the street, but there were no cabs to hail. Keeping a fast walk, she unlocked her phone and pressed on the Uber app to request a ride, and right before she completed the process, a black Mercedes with tinted windows came to a stop a few feet ahead of her along the curb. The back door opened right in front of where she was walking, and before she could skirt around it, a man she didn’t recognize stepped out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her back into the vehicle with him.