Soulless: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy Book 2)

by Jade West

  “I’ll make you sob for me,” I snarled, but she smiled.

  “Don’t count on it, sir.”

  Her smile wasn’t rude. It was genuine. It lit up the pain in her eyes.

  I knew it. She was a pain slut. A masochist as desperate for my wrath as she was for my mercy.

  My dick was a beast in my pants, lost to the siren even more than the rest of me.

  Her virginity was the biggest temptation of all, there for the taking. I was used to taking whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I had been since I was a young boy learning from his father. I always clicked my fingers and got whatever I summoned. I cast my eyes on anything I desired and it arrived at my feet. People, possessions, places. So why didn’t I take her? Why was her tight little pussy a prize I was holding back on?

  Fuck knows.

  I hit her some more, and she moved with me, rocking those hips as she gasped. The endorphins flooded her—I could sense it. Gasps turned to moans, taking it. Wanting it.

  She wanted it. Elaine Constantine wanted me to hurt her.

  I forced her thighs apart and curled my fingers around to her pussy. Her clit was a toy in my grip. I twisted. It hurt to a whole different tune.

  I wondered what it felt like.

  I wondered what her ass felt like, already reddening in a beautiful shade.

  “I know you like it,” I told her. “I know you’re a fucked-up little bitch who loves being fucked up.”

  I turned her to face me, giving her no warning before I slapped her tits hard enough to make her bite her lip and whimper. I loved the way they pinked.

  “The men who played with you, did they teach you to be a true little masochist?”

  She didn’t answer, just stared.

  “I asked you a question, Elaine,” I hissed, then slapped her tits some more. “The men who played with you, did they teach you to be a true masochist?”

  “I’m not talking about it,” she whispered. “I don’t tell my secrets.”

  Her disobedience got her some rough twists of her tits, so rough she cried out.

  Under normal circumstances I’d have taken what I wanted and hurt her until she spat those secrets right out at me, but there was a strange desire in me. Something I hadn’t felt before.

  I didn’t want her spitting them out at me when I was beating her so bad she couldn’t resist me. I wanted her whispering in the darkness with tears streaming down her cheeks, broken right down to the soul. I wanted her whispering her secrets like a good girl because she wanted to. Right to the core of her. Because she wanted to whisper them to me.

  My brain was fucking me up, and I knew it. Sirens drown sailors for a fucking reason.

  “You’ll pay for your denial,” I growled, and I meant it.

  She knew it. She arched her back, presenting those perfect tits for more punishment.

  She got it. Twists and slaps that had her eyes closed tight, struggling not to buckle and cry. Her struggling worked. She was a resilient little bitch.

  I guess she’d learnt to be. I guess they taught her to be. The thought of men teaching her to be a resilient little bitch both enraged me and excited me in one, and always had done . . . only now the balance was shifting. Slowly, it was shifting. The rage was rising like venom behind my eyes and snuffing the excitement right out of me.

  “Please, Lucian, will you just fuck me?” she asked. “Please, just fuck me.”

  I forced her onto her knees so hard she cried out.

  “I’ll fuck your impudent little mouth until you’re sick all over my cock,” I snarled. “I’ll fuck your throat until you’re nothing but a gasping little wreck on the floor.”

  The little bitch opened wide for me.

  11

  Elaine

  I’ve never had much praise for being a good girl. My father was the best at it, but he was rarely around for me. My mother was tough and cold, always focusing on the naughty and not the well done. My sisters were better behaved than me and got the rewards, and I was the black sheep, always getting the frowns and the scowls.

  I blamed myself for all the dirty attention I got from people in my world. Naughty girl they used to tell me, take your punishment. Maybe even from a young age, I believed them. Maybe they knew I would. Maybe, maybe, maybe. None of that mattered anymore.

  I guess that’s why I got the bloom of pride inside me at seeing Lucian Morelli so impressed with my mouth around his cock. He might hate me, but he didn’t hate the way I flicked my tongue so perfectly up and down the length of him. His curses under his breath were anything but full of rage, and his fingers in my hair were desperate and not full of spite. Yes, I was proud. I was proud of being such a good girl at sucking dick.

  My tits were still hurting, but there was a tenderness about them that lit me up all the way through my body. My ass was still smarting, but that didn’t make a difference to how good my clit was feeling as I stared up at the monster and how much he was enjoying my throat.

  I should hate every single vein in his body, retching at the Morelli name as much as I was retching with his thrusts. But I wasn’t hating. I was tingling so hard I couldn’t stop it.

  “Take it,” he growled, and I knew exactly what he wanted.

  I opened my mouth nice and wide and stared up at him like an obedient little slut. Only this time he didn’t give me his come in my mouth. He wrenched my head back and spurted his load over my pinked-up tits, splattering them in a thick creamy fountain. He looked for long moments before casting me down onto my back.

  “Don’t even think of wrapping yourself up again,” he told me. “You’ll keep those filthy tits on display as long as I want them.”

  Yet again I didn’t bother arguing.

  As usual, Lucian Morelli surprised me in no time as he got himself busy in the refrigerator. I was still gazing up at him as he assembled cheeses and salami and pasta from the cupboard. The beast of the Morelli family was preparing food. I’d never have pictured the beast of the Morelli family making food.

  He must have caught sight of my shock.

  “Don’t be a dumb bitch and think this is some kind of duty or kindness on my part. If I trusted you for a second to make me anything even vaguely passable to my palate, I’d be using you as my naked chef like a good little servant.”

  “I can cook pasta,” I scoffed, offended. “I’d have to be some kind of useless imbecile to not cook pasta, asshole.”

  Again it surprised me when he didn’t punish me for my cheek, not this time. Strangely I supposed we were getting used to each other somehow – two mortal enemies holed up in a small space who didn’t seem to be all that different in many ways, despite our world of opposites.

  He didn’t protest when I got to my feet, come still splattered thick on my tits. I propped against the counter, watching him. His hands were surprisingly skilled with the meal preparation, and I knew even more of his familiarity in the space by the way he was so at ease with the kitchen. Not only could Lucian Morelli cook a meal, but he seemed to be plenty accustomed to it. Definitely more accustomed to it than I was. He was right on that front.

  “You’d better be a grateful bitch and eat what’s put in front of you,” he told me. “I’m feeding you to keep that body of yours fit for my playtime, not because I give a fuck about your hunger.”

  A tiny part of me didn’t believe him. That tiny part of me was probably a fool, but I didn’t believe him. He wasn’t just feeding my body, he was feeding me, too.

  It didn’t take him long to spoon some pasta out into a bowl and hand it over. He stalked on through to the living room and set himself down at the table. I didn’t say a word as I sat down alongside him and picked at the Lucian Morelli extravaganza with my fork. It was nice. The monster definitely could cook.

  I couldn’t hold back my cheek again, not giving a fuck for how my ass was throbbing against the wood of my chair.

  “So, how was your day, sweetheart?” I asked him with a sarcastic tone.

  He shot me a glare
that made my heart leap.

  “It was made all the better for hearing about the carnage your disappearance has caused. Your family are heading to war with the Power Brothers. I can’t wait to see the bloodshed and the pain when they truly come to battle.”

  I got a flutter in my chest. Guilt as well as curiosity.

  He carried on speaking.

  “Hilarious really, how ignorant and naive your pitiful family are, Elaine. They really do seem to believe the Power Brothers are the culprits, just because you owe them some pathetic drug debts. Fools.”

  If only he knew.

  If only he knew just how many secrets naughty little Elaine really kept from the world.

  I didn’t say a word about them, just used the opportunity for more criticizm.

  “You won’t be so cocky when the world comes to realize just what you’ve done here. Even your own family will destroy you. There’s no way Bryant Morelli is going to tolerate you striking out at me.”

  He slammed his fist onto the table and jabbed his fork at me.

  “You know fuck all about the Morelli family,” he spat at me. “I’m the fucking head of the Morelli family now, bitch. My word is the law.”

  I didn’t believe him. He could kid himself all he wanted, but Bryant Morelli would never give his son the reins. Not a hope in hell.

  In that moment, I came to regret just how my frantic action to point the finger at the Power Brothers saved the monster’s skin, at least for the time being.

  I only hoped he’d never find out before they killed him. That, or before he killed me.

  I’d never want to handle that shame and embarrassment in front of him, to have to explain why I saved him instead of turned him over to my family’s wrath.

  His fork was still pointing in my direction, and his eyes were evil, dark.

  “Push the fucking boundaries all you like, little girl, I’ll make you suffer for all of them. But believe me, you choose to use your petty little tongue against the Morelli name, and I’ll cut the snarky little bitch right out of you.”

  I shut my mouth with a nod and carried on eating, but yet again Lucian Morelli was lying to himself.

  There’s no way he’d cut my tongue from my mouth before he killed me – not when it played his cock so well.

  12

  Lucian

  Elaine was a shaky little girl as I forced her into her shitty bedroom that night. She was still naked, with those sweet, filthy tits on display. In anyone’s reality, she was a perfect specimen. She shot me a look from inside the room, big eyes fixing on mine with a please she didn’t say. Please don’t leave me here. She didn’t want to be in there alone.

  A dumbass part of me didn’t want to leave her in there alone. I wanted her next to me, subject to my every whim, whenever I wanted it. Still, I couldn’t share a bed with a Constantine. I couldn’t stoop that low, even by my current standards of jackass insanity.

  “Make sure you sleep,” I told her. “I want that body kept perfect for me.”

  She didn’t reply, and no doubt the exhaustion won out in her. She slipped into bed and pulled the covers up high. She curled into a fetal position before I closed the door on her, and it was . . . strange. It gave me a weird squick of a feeling I couldn’t place. I didn’t like it in the slightest. I didn’t like . . . feeling. I shut the door firmly and headed away.

  My bed was huge and grand in the mediocre surroundings. I usually enjoyed being pride of place in the center. Right now, I should be jerking off over the latest million banked. Right now, I should be listening in on the Constantine kidnap carnage, and probably jerking off to that, too. But I didn’t want any of it. I felt bored with it all but not with her.

  I wanted Elaine to entertain me, but no, I wouldn’t share a bed with a Constantine, no matter how much I wanted to play with her. The vile pieces of shit deserved nothing but pain from me.

  Instead, I made plans for Elaine Constantine. Plans to hurt, stretch, push to the ultimate limit, and I jerked off to the thrill of all the good things to come.

  Sleep found me then, as always, it found me.

  Elaine was already awake when I set foot outside my room showered and dressed next morning. She was in the kitchen making herself a coffee like she owned the damn place. It gave me another one of those weird squicks of a feeling to see she had another mug waiting on the counter, ready to pour. One for me.

  I didn’t say good morning and neither did she. Her eyes looked tired, even through their prettiness. I knew from the sight of her she’d barely slept a wink.

  “Uncomfortable bed?” I asked her. “Be grateful I gave you one at all.”

  “Most beds are uncomfortable to me,” she said, “I’ve had a lifetime of bad experiences, staring at the door, scared of who’s going to come in and climb on my bed.”

  “You should be scared, staring at that door. I’ll be the one climbing on your damn bed.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, well. Kill me and get it over with, I keep telling you.”

  Again, I could have hurt her for her cheek, only this morning it wasn’t impudence, just throwaway. Tired with no filter.

  I should’ve punished her before I left, but I couldn’t. I was already fast running out of time.

  She cast a glance at my suit and the keys already in my hand. “Heading into the office, I guess?”

  “Heading to reign over the Morelli Empire, you should be guessing.”

  She poured me a coffee and held it out to me. “At least drink this before you hit the road. You hardly want to be driving without some kind of starter for the day.”

  I stared puzzled, nothing short of shocked, because it couldn’t possibly . . . it couldn’t possibly be Elaine Constantine caring.

  She seemed to register my confusion; it hit her as strangely as it hit me. Her justification was instant.

  “It’s about your body, not you,” she hissed. “What’s going to happen to me if you never turn back up again? I’ll shrivel away to death in here with nothing. Fuck you!”

  She made to take the coffee back, but I grabbed it from her. I’d been raised with solid manners, and they couldn’t hold back. The words were out of me before I could stop them.

  “Thank you.”

  Elaine was taken aback by that too. I knew she was fighting the response, but we couldn’t stop it. Even in our hate, we couldn’t stop it.

  “You’re welcome,” she said with another shrug, then added the obligatory, “You’re welcome, asshole.”

  “Have you any damn idea how ridiculously immature you sound when you use that term?” I asked her. “You sound like a rebellious kindergarten baby.”

  I downed my coffee. She’d done a good job of it.

  “I’ll be wearing one of your shirts today,” she told me. “You can punish me for it when you get home all you want, but I’ll still be wearing it.”

  There it was again, another ridiculous statement. Home. When you get home.

  “When you get back,” she followed up, but it was too late.

  “This isn’t my fucking home,” I hissed. “It’s some backwater shithole of a dungeon I’m torturing you in before I break your pretty neck. Don’t for a second think I’m home in this wreck.”

  “That’s how you’re gonna do it? Break my neck? That’s way too quick a kill by Lucian Morelli standards. Don’t tell me you’re going soft in your old age.”

  She lifted her smirking jaw to me. My free hand shot to her exposed throat and fucking squeezed.

  “Break it right now, shall I? Maybe you don’t deserve a slow death.”

  “Like you’d ever be able to resist,” she choked out.

  I let go of her throat and forced my fingers into her gasping mouth, shunted her backwards as she gargled her own spit and retched against me. Retched until it ran down her nostrils and her eyes watered as I twisted my fingers into her throat.

  When I pulled my hand free, she doubled over, gasping like a sorry bitch as her drool puddled on the floor.

 
“Get that filthy shit cleaned up before I get back,” I told her, only just resisting the urge to fuck her up some more.

  “Whatever,” she said as I walked away and caught sight of the time on the clock above the counter.

  Fucking hell, I was later than even I’d expected. I was never late . . . not before Elaine Constantine became my toy fucking dolly.

  I didn’t bother saying goodbye, just marched my way right on out of there. The Merc was waiting in the garage and so was the road ahead, all damn sixty minutes of it.

  I knew what was looming – Seamus and Duncan and their lowlife attempts at kissing Father’s backside. They could go fuck themselves.

  Sure enough they were hovering when I arrived in my suite at Morelli Holdings. Seamus was on his cell trying to sound as slick and professional as possible, and Duncan was flicking through paperwork he had no right to be flicking through. I snatched it from him as soon as I was in reaching distance.

  “Get the fuck out of my suite.”

  The cunt had the audacity to laugh at me. “It’s not your suite. It’s your daddy’s. He knows we’re here this morning. He also knows you weren’t.”

  Fuck’s sake.

  “I’ll be handling my father,” I told them both with a snarl. “Believe me, you have no place here, and you’ll be getting the fuck out of my building.”

  It was Seamus who laughed this time, dropping his cell onto my desk.

  “You’d better go handle him then, hadn’t you? He’s downstairs on floor nine.” He tutted like a prick. “Believe me, he’s not a happy daddy this morning.”

  Somehow I knew the assholes were telling the goddamn truth and it was a ball ache. Under any normal circumstances I’d have put it down to my own stupid dicking about at Kington Peak and not at Holdings where I belonged. And nothing else. My fucking bad.

  My gut knew a whole lot more than that when I headed downstairs to floor nine, though. My gut had more sense than my goddamn fucking brain. Father’s presence in the office wasn’t just about dicking about at Kington Peak and slacking on Holdings – this was about Elaine fucking Constantine. I knew it in my veins. The whole world was going Elaine Constantine crazy, not just me. I’d heard it all over the news on the way in.