Steps

by Bea Paige

  “You will scream my name, Rose,” I taunt, my fingers delving into her slick heat.

  Her whole body stiffens as I spread her juices up towards the puckered hole of her arse, circling my finger over the rim, then as my mouth slides against her wetness once more she relaxes and my finger eases into the tightness, moving gently within as my mouth and tongue eat her out.

  Still not a whimper.

  But me, I’m so fucking turned on, so damn hard that I groan and growl as I lap and tease, lick and nibble. I want nothing more than her sweet heat encasing my cock. I’m so damn hard it’s almost painful.

  Not yet. Not until she cries out my name and gives herself to me.

  So I continue to fuck her with my mouth, my fingers.

  And as she takes everything I can give, as she rocks against me something niggles in the back of my head. Some small part of me wants more than her cries of pleasure, more than the tears she will weep when I break her.

  And the closer I come to letting go, the stronger it gets.

  The demon in my chest snarls and forces me back to the moment. I find Rose’s clit and suck hard. She arches her back, pressing herself against me and just at that moment, I slap her on the arse once more. The sound cracks in the air, but it’s the only sound that does.

  Rose loses more petals, but still she remains silent.

  And it angers me like nothing else.

  She’s fucking with me.

  She’s baiting the demon.

  Without warning, I pull her downwards, and in one quick motion impale her on my cock. She throws her head back, her nails scoring marks over my shoulders as she holds onto the silent cry that parts her lips.

  Her chest heaves, her beautiful, lush breasts tantalisingly close to my parted mouth. The dark pink of her nipples like two rose buds blush against her creamy skin.

  I fill her completely. I feel her muscles tightening around my cock.

  And yet not a sound escapes her mouth.

  “Submit to me, Rose!” I growl, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze.

  I can barely see the meadow-green of her eyes, her pupils are so large, filled with lust and a desire so white hot it almost consumes me. It licks over my skin, it taunts me with its power to swallow me whole until I’m nothing but dust.

  “Submit to me, Rose,” I repeat through gritted teeth.

  Then she smiles, before shaking her head.

  It’s enough to set off a bomb within me. A fucking explosion that rips out my heart.

  Grabbing Rose around the back, I twist my body so that she’s pinned against the hardwood of the floor.

  I’m angry. I’m fucking furious.

  She has a will of steel.

  She’s the strongest woman I know.

  But I will break her.

  With a ferocity that I’ve never felt before I pound into her, hard and fast.

  I use my cock as a weapon, sliding into her with determined ferocity. Needing her to break so that I can finally let go, so I can come and find blissful release.

  Yet, she refuses. She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, but still she remains silent.

  “LET GO!” I shout, rutting into her.

  Rutting hard.

  Pounding deep into her wetness.

  Fucking her like I’ve never fucked any woman before.

  This feeling I have, it’s primal, angry. I’m angry at Svetlana, at all the women I’ve fucked. I’m angry at Rose for refusing to break.

  “LET GO!”

  NO! her eyes tell me, even when her mouth remains shut.

  I reach up and yank her hair, pulling her head to the side, not caring that it must hurt. The tight clench of her pussy and the sharp pinch of her nails against my back tell me she’s enjoying every second even if she refuses to voice her pleasure.

  Unlike me.

  I pant and snarl.

  I groan, I moan, I fucking roar.

  The demon in me is taking over and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  We slide across the floor, my thrusts moving us over the hard surface but still she remains stubbornly quiet. My cock hardens further at the thought of her back bruised by the force of our fucking. A tiny slither of me feels guilt at hurting her, but a bigger more powerful part can’t stop, doesn’t want to.

  I need to devour her. I need her cries of pain, of pleasure.

  I want her fucking tears.

  Rose tightens her legs around my waist, and her nails claw at my back for more.

  More. More.

  And so I give it to her, I allow the demon free reign.

  My hand blindly reaches for her throat, my thumb pressing against the pulse that beats in her neck, the only thing stopping me from cutting off her air supply is my need to make her cry out. I want her to give in. I want her to give herself up to me like all the other women who’ve passed through these doors.

  But she won’t.

  She fucking won’t.

  And I can’t stop.

  The sensation building in my balls has me panicking. I’m so close to coming, so close to tipping over into the blissful euphoria that I seek, but I still haven’t got what I want.

  I still haven’t won.

  Then Rose does something that changes everything.

  She brings her hand up high and slaps my arse as hard as she possibly can. The pain breaks through every damn wall I’ve ever built. It bulldozes through the darkness like a shooting star ripping through the night sky.

  “Now you can come,” she says, and behind my eyes the universe explodes.

  Eventually the darkness clears like the mist over the moors.

  My forehead is pressed against the crook of Rose’s neck. My whole body is trembling. Sweat rolls off my skin, my hair plastered to my head. I must have passed out.

  Moving my head to the side has stars blurring my vision. I feel as though I’ve run a marathon. I feel as though I’ve been ripped to shreds, as though I’ve cut myself more than the one time I remember.

  Every single part of me hurts. I fucking hurt like nothing else. But beneath the pain is something more. Within me, where the demon once lived is a swirling void of nothingness. It’s gaping and raw, but it’s empty and that gives me hope. Hope, that with Rose’s help I will begin to close the wound, I will begin to heal, eventually.

  Slowly, I lift onto my forearms, my gaze refocusing on Rose beneath me.

  The smile she gives me shatters my heart, and I know in that moment she’s the one I’ve been searching for. She’s the one who can give me peace. Give us peace.

  Anton was right, she is the one.

  And whilst I know what that means for me, I don’t know what that means for Anton, for Erik, for Rose. I’ve never had to share before, never needed to, never wanted to.

  I don’t want to now. Right now, in this room, she’s mine as much as I am hers.

  Everything else will have to be worked out later.

  I pull Rose to her feet, and then, as though I can do nothing else, I lift her up and spin us both around. The moment her feet touch the floor, she twirls away from me. But I capture her hand, pulling her back against my chest. Rose folds into me, her leg hooking over my hip as I slide my hand beneath her thigh, the other supporting her back. We sway together like this, our bodies moulding against one another and for the first time in my life I finally feel as though I’ve found the one person who truly fits.

  She owns me, completely.

  On a deeper level, past all the sex and the desire, the lust and the heat, I understand that Rose has stolen something precious, but I don’t even care.

  I want her to have it.

  I want her to rule me. I want her to dominate me and in return I will give her anything, everything she wants.

  Rose presses a kiss against my chest, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “Let me go, Ivan,” she says softly.

  I do as she asks, willingly. My hands fall away, and she drops her leg, twirling out of my arms. I watch as she pi
rouettes away from me, stopping on the other side of the room.

  Naked. Bare. Beautiful.

  Fucking powerful.

  “Dance for me, Ivan,” she murmurs, holding her hand out. It isn’t a request, even though it sounds like one.

  Can I do that? Can I dance for Rose now?

  My gaze falls to the stain of Svetlana’s blood, to Rose’s red dress that I tore from her body, and to my own arm streaked the same colour.

  “Ivan? Dance for me,” she repeats.

  Looking down at the reminder of my wife’s death one last time, I make the only choice I can.

  Turning my feet and arms out into first position, I push off from my toes and step towards a future that is as bright and as startling as the woman waiting for me.

  And for the first time in my adult life, I feel free.

  When I reach Rose, I drop to my knees ready to do anything she asks. I don’t think there is anything I wouldn’t do.

  Rose grasps my chin, urging me to look up at her.

  “Rose?” I murmur. I want to know if she’s okay. I want to know if she can accept this man that’s still hard for her, growing ever harder as she stares at me without fear, but with acceptance. I want to know that she won’t ever fucking leave me, us.

  She smiles gently, urging me to my feet. “Kiss me, Ivan,” she whispers.

  And so, I do.

  And as we kiss, I give in to the courage of her heart, the strength of her body and the dominance of her will.

  This time I have no urge to rule her, command her, dominate her.

  This time I submit, knowing from this moment on I’ll only ever find peace in her arms.

  My Domina.

  My Rose.

  My Muse.

  Epilogue

  Anton

  Peeling back the sheet that covers the painting of Rose, I study my work.

  It’s far from perfect.

  There’s so much more I need to add to bring it to life, bring Rose to life.

  In the flesh she is so much more than what I see before me.

  She is a rare beauty on the outside, a goddess, yes. But there’s more to her than that, and I need to capture it.

  I must capture it.

  I need to understand the inner workings of her mind in order to replicate it on canvas. I need to reach inside Rose and drag out her secrets. I need to see beyond the everyday, the mundane and peel back the layers that make up the person she is. I need to pull her apart and stare into the very heart of her.

  I need to see into her soul.

  And then, I must capture it for all eternity.

  Scraping a hand through my hair, I let out a frustrated sigh. The need to immortalise Rose on canvas is eating away at me. It has kept me up for days. No drug has softened the hard edge of my obsession; weed, cocaine, heroin even. Nothing has tempered the need in me.

  Ivan and Erik may need Rose to set them free from the demons they hold inside, but I need her for so much more than that.

  I need her to see.

  I need her.

  And I will stop at nothing to rid myself of the monochrome greys and blacks of my sight until they bleed brightly with the colour of Rose’s essence.

  Even if that means destroying her in the process.

  Picking up my art pad and pencil, I walk towards the large canvas leaning against the wall and push it aside. Behind it is a door which leads into a darkened corridor. Stepping into the musty space, I allow my eyes to adjust to the dim light, then head towards a room at the other end, smiling in the knowledge that very soon Rose will be locked within its four walls with no means of escape.

  THE END

  Author’s Note

  First and foremost, this book really wouldn’t have happened without Courtney and Janet’s support. Your encouragement and belief in me got me through the days when I lacked the belief I could actually continue to write, let alone write this story. I will be forever grateful to you both for truly believing in me. I may not have met either of you in person (yet) but you’ve already earned a place in my life forevermore. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

  Thank you to Skye MacKinnon, my co-author wifey for designing my beautiful front cover for this series, and to Gina Wynn for making the insides so beautiful!

  Thank you to my readers who’ve supported me all this time. Who’ve read and enjoyed my other books and who keep me company in my reader group Queen Bea’s Hive when I’m feeling a lonely or just happy to hang out, you guys rock!

  Know that every story I write is for you all.

  And finally, special thanks to Sergei Polunin who may never even read this book, but who inspired this story and deserves a mention nethertheless. Having stumbled across the video of Sergei dancing to Take Me to Church by Hozier, directed by David LaChapelle, I was immediately inspired to put pen to paper and within a few hours an outline for Steps was formed. Truthfully, I was mesmerised, enthralled and utterly spellbound by Sergei. I think I may have even fallen in love a little!

  So, thank you Sergei Polunin, for being my muse.

  What’s coming up?

  Book two of Finding Their Muse, of course! I will be working hard on getting this story out as soon as humanly possible. Expect even darker things with Strokes. I intend to let my inner dark have free reign on this one!

  Very soon I will also be working on Clover’s story with her fae men of Clan Terra. The Forbidden Forest was the first place I envisioned when I was dreaming up Ever Vale in the Sisters of Hex series and I’m so looking forward to getting back to it soon! Expect to see Clover’s books come out early spring 2019.

  I am also working on my co-author project with Skye MacKinnon. Hells Weeping, book two of the Inferno Descent series is being written as we speak with a (hopeful) release in December 2018.

  Don’t forget to read on for excerpts from Avalanche of Desire – book one of my contemporary reverse harem in the Brothers Freed trilogy and Accacia’s Curse – book one of Accacia’s trilogy in the Sisters of Hex series.

  I hope you enjoy them!

  If you want to keep up to date with all my releases you might want to sign up to my newsletter here:

  https://www.beapaige.co.uk/get-in-touch.html

  Much love, Bea xxx

  Accacia’s Curse

  Bea Paige

  Sisters of Hex – Book One

  Five sisters born beneath the stars

  Neither bound by blood nor kin

  Must unify the warring clans

  And rid the land of sin

  Their lives they are beholden

  A curse atop their heads

  Broken only by a love divided

  Betwixt three allied men

  There will be opposition

  To peace and harmony

  A plan to cause division

  Must never come to be

  In great danger they will find themselves

  Amongst divided lands

  Their fate held in the balance

  Of their lovers’ hands

  A gold band, it will signify

  The unity of the clan

  And once each ring is worn in place

  Five sisters will take command

  Prologue

  I remember the first time the sun almost killed me. I was a toddler, barely three years old. I had found my way out of my mother’s sight for no more than five minutes, but it was enough time to sneak out of the back door and onto the porch that surrounded our house.

  It was such a beautiful day, the sun high and bright. The sky empty of cloud. I could hear the laughter of other children playing in neighbouring gardens. I so desperately wanted to play with them. With no other thought than the need to join the fun, I stepped out into the sunlight, my bare feet soft against the warm wood of the deck.

  I heard my mother’s horrified scream before I felt any pain.

  No child should have to endure what I did that day, and the long days that followed. It was a burning, scorching, terrifying pain that my younger se
lf could not properly comprehend. Then there had been darkness, sudden overwhelming darkness.

  Darkness that has remained with me long after my mother passed and will remain with me until I die. That’s if I am unable to find a cure, and find a cure I will because I know that I wasn’t destined to live in darkness, I was destined to stand in the light.

  Chapter One

  “You almost done?” Roland asks me. He pushes his thick spectacles up his nose, and wipes a hand through his greasy hair. I lift my eyes from the microscope and wait for his next inevitable question. I try not to shudder.

  “You fancy a bite to eat?”

  “Sorry, I have plans,” I say automatically, knowing full well those plans extend to another lonely night with a microwave meal and Netflix for company. That lack of company, however, is a lot better than a date with creepy Roland.

  His cheeks redden, highlighting his pockmarked skin and fuzzy facial hair that, despite his age, hasn’t quite decided whether it wishes to remain prepubescent or form into a stubble.

  “Quite the busy one, aren’t we, Accacia, given you spend most of your time either locked away in here or locked away at home?” he says, before pinching his mouth shut on the remark. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “What I do in my spare time is none of your business, Roland,” I say, avoiding the fact that he has practically confessed to stalking me. I glance to the right of me where a pair of scissors is resting on the workbench. I would use them should he get any funny ideas, and I most certainly will be reporting him to the lab manager in the morning. This kind of behaviour is unacceptable.

  The red on his face deepens further as he holds his hands up. “I meant nothing by it, Accacia. I just… well, we’ve worked together in this lab side-by-side for, what, two years now? I just never heard you mention anyone else, and I thought you might want a friend,” he stutters, trying to backtrack.