Claimed

by M. Never

  “Where are we going anyway?” she asks as we pass bungalow after bungalow.

  “I set up a private dinner. So we can talk.”

  Ironic, I know.

  “Private?” The word dances warily on her tongue.

  “Yes.”

  “Will there be a seat for me at this dinner or will I be dining between your knees?” she asks caustically.

  I can’t stop my lip from twitching with amusement. God, I didn’t realize how much I loved her fire until it was taken away from me. I glance at Matias. He is happily driving through the resort, not giving away if he heard Ellie’s statement or not. If he did, he is smart not to acknowledge it. In response, I dip my head, bringing my mouth as close to her ear as possible. Ellie stiffens as I inhale her scent. “Tonight, you have a chair, but I’ll never object to you dining between my knees.”

  I may be a desperate man, but I am still me, and the image of Ellie naked, kneeling, and taking food from my hand is enough to send me right into sexual orbit.

  She glares at me with my face an inch away from hers. “Keep dreaming,” she spits. “I’ll never kneel for you again.” There’s so much fight in in her voice, but there’s also doubt, too. People often rebel against the things that make them vulnerable, while at the same time tempting them like sin. Maybe Ellie will never kneel for me again, and that’s okay. I’ve made peace with that fact. Changing my ways is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. A year apart has altered so many things; it’s given me perspective and time to think. I have never wanted a woman the way I want Ellie. Never wanted to pursue a relationship or take that scary step of caring for another human being. I had no example to learn from so what good would I have been at it? That’s what I thought my whole life until I met Ellie—until I was forced to care, to protect, to feel. And I don’t want to give that up because I as much as I believed I could live without love, in a second flat she proved me wrong. The moment she was put in danger, the moment there was a chance I could lose her forever. That single moment I knew I could be more. Give more. To her.

  We pull up to a secluded part of the resort with a sandy pathway leading to the beach.

  “When you said dinner, I was expecting a restaurant,” she says as she slips out of the golf cart. She stops short just before we step onto the sand.

  “Ellie?”

  “One sec.” She puts her hand on my arm then pulls off the black stiletto heels from her feet. The ones that are as deadly as they are sexy.

  My mind explodes with images of what I could do to her while wearing those shoes.

  Behave.

  We walk toward the water, around some palm trees, and through some light brush until we come to a clearing. There, tucked away, is our own private table lit with white candles, and pink paper lanterns dangling overhead. I can’t take credit for the romantic setting, that’s all Jett. I just told him to create something Ellie would love. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as we slowly approach the table. Her arms are still wrapped defensively around her upper body, the hem of her dress is rippling slightly in the wind.

  “This is very nice,” she says once we’re standing next to the table, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what her melancholy tone is about.

  “Shall we?” I pull out her chair, and Ellie sits. Then I take my seat adjacent to hers. The table is dressed with a white tablecloth, porcelain plates, and shiny silverware. The centerpiece is three multitiered cylinder vases with submerged orchids and candles floating on top. There are more orchids situated on the mirrored base, and even some wrapped around our napkins, like holders. Ellie fiddles with hers, inspecting the delicate white flower that is just as beautiful as she is.

  “Wine, mademoiselle?” Matias appears with two bottles in his hands, pulling Ellie out of her wandering thoughts.

  “Oh, yes. Red, please.” She smiles. He pours her glass and then turns to me.

  “The same.” Before Matias is even done pouring my glass, Ellie has guzzled down half of her own.

  “Easy there, killer. This night is going to be over for you before it even begins if you keep up that pace.”

  “Are you always going to be in the business of telling me what to do?”

  I put my hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. I was merely making an observation. If you want to get shitfaced, by all means do so. I’ll hold your hair back while you puke.”

  “Would you?” she asks sharply.

  “Of course, I would. If you needed me, I’d be there.”

  She breathes heavily as she stares at me like she’s trying to stab me to death with just her pupils. Did I say something wrong?

  I wait for her to speak, but it seems she has nothing to say. That unnerves me. “Ellie, what are you thinking?” I ask delicately. It feels like I’m suddenly walking over a field of landmines.

  “I’m wondering why you brought me here.”

  “To dinner? We’re both humans. We need to eat.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Why did you beckon me to Tahiti?”

  “You said you wanted to see paradise,” I answer honestly.

  “I live in Hawaii,” she responds flatly, placing her wine down and crossing her arms.

  “Neutral ground?” I try again.

  Ellie shakes her head sternly, completely unconvinced.

  I huff. “Fine.” She wants to do this, then we’ll do this. “I brought you here to reclaim what’s mine,” I tell her straight out.

  Her jaw drops. “You still think I’m yours?”

  “Not think,” I correct her. “Know.”

  Ellie looks at me beyond irritated. Her mossy-green eyes flashing with disbelief.

  “I was never yours.”

  “Now, we both know that’s not true.” I take a sip of the Pinot noir arrogantly.

  Ellie’s irritated expression morphs into anger.

  “What do you want from me?”

  I laugh, more to myself than at her. “What do I want?” I muse. “Probably too much.”

  “And what exactly is too much?”

  “What did I want before?”

  Ellie frowns. “My obedience, my submission, and my body.”

  “And your love,” I stipulate. “What I want most is your love. But what I want is irrelevant. It’s what you’re willing to give me that’s important.”

  “Why should I give you anything?” The question sounds more sad and hurtful than anything else.

  I shrug. “Maybe you shouldn’t. But I’m holding out hope that one day you might consider forgiving me and let what was happening between us continue into something more.”

  “More?” she says exasperated. This conversation is going beautifully. Exactly where I hoped. Right down the fucking toilet.

  “Yes, more,” I continue.

  “And what exactly would be more?”

  “I already told you. Love.” I add ardently.

  “You use that word quite freely.”

  “It’s because I know what I feel. And even though I’m terrified of it, I’m not going to run from it.”

  “You have no idea what fear is,” she replies bitterly.

  “Of course, I do. I’ve lived in fear my whole life, and I’ve caused it. I know exactly what fear is.”

  “No wonder you were so good at dishing it out.”

  “Do what you know,” I respond sharply, echoing a conversation we once had forever ago.

  I can actually feel the rage radiating off Ellie. I don’t mean to be so petulant, but when I feel threatened, my defenses go up, especially when it comes to a woman; and Ellie is definitely gunning for me tonight.

  I have to keep reminding myself that she’s different from all the rest, that her anger is warranted, but I’m afraid it will consume her. Consume us.

  “Ellie, I don’t want to fight. I want to talk.”

  “About love?” she fumes. It’s like that word is acid to her.

  “That can be the first topic of conversation, and once we get that s
quared away, we can move on to a more titillating subject.” I smile impishly, attempting to cut away from the disastrous turn our talk has taken.

  “And what subject would that be?”

  “Your body.” I gulp down another mouthful of wine as Ellie shakes her head incredulously. I’m sure there are a boatload of other topics I could have picked, but I panicked.

  “My body?” she repeats, gazing at me shrewdly.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “And what exactly would you do to my body if you had it?”

  “So many wonderful things.” I lick my bottom lip.

  “Oh really?” She stands seductively and takes a sip of wine like she’s trying to entice me. Which, she is.

  “Would you pleasure it?” she asks holding the glass to her chest.

  “Yes,” I answer looking up at her with only my eyes.

  “How?” She places the wineglass down on the table and inches toward me.

  “However you would let me.”

  “Would you lick me?” She crosses her ankles all sultry like. I know what she’s doing; I’m not an idiot. I know when I’m being goaded. But at the moment, I just don’t care.

  “Yes.” I drink her in—every sexy, dangerous inch of her.

  “Suck me?”

  “Yes.” I sweep my eyes over her five-foot-four frame.

  “Finger me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck me?” she taunts, coming closer until our bodies are touching.

  “Hell, yes.” I look up, breathing heavy. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

  “Would you spank me?” Her voice suddenly turns hard. “Would you spank me until I cried? Beat me while I begged you to stop? Chain me to the bed and use me as you saw fit all while you lied to me? Make me think I actually mean something when all I really am is a plaything?” she lashes out.

  I freeze. Hold up. She may be pissed, but I’m not going to let her believe things that just aren’t true.

  “You were never just a plaything,” I growl, standing up so I tower over her. “You don’t put your life on the line for a plaything. You don’t risk six years of work, an entire household full of people, and your own fucking heart for a plaything. You may be angry with me, Ellie, but I did what I did for a reason, and I would do it again without blinking an eye. Not only because I loved dominating you, but because you are here, standing in front of me, alive and mentally sound.”

  Something sparks in her eyes. Hatred maybe?

  “Says you!” She picks up a glass of wine and throws it in my face, staining the front of my white shirt red. Then she runs off.

  “Ellie!” Goddamn it, I wipe my face with my hand. This is definitely not how I saw dinner going. I start to go after her, determined to toss her over my shoulder and spank some sense into her, but Jett’s words ring in my ears, stopping me from moving. She needs space.

  Ughhhh! I punch the table, rattling the entire thing.

  Can I just tell you how fucking over space I am.

  I RUN BAREFOOT THROUGH THE resort with my emotions in a stir.

  “You don’t put your life on the line for a plaything. You don’t risk six years of work, a house full of people, and your own heart for a plaything.” His words echo resoundingly.

  Before I know it, I’m standing in front of bungalow number forty-six, knocking—more like pounding—on the door. Jett, please be here. I urgently wipe away the tears from under my eyes, black streaks staining my fingers from my watery mascara.

  “Hang on!” I hear him shout from behind the door. Thank God! A moment later, it swings open to a half-naked Jett. I nearly choke on my tears. “Ellie?” He looks at me with a perplexed expression. It’s half-confused, half-concerned.

  Holy shit. I can’t respond because my jaw has unhinged from my face. Jett is ripped, like completely shredded.

  “Ellie?” he repeats again, but I can’t draw my eyes away from his body, his glinting nipple ring, or the brightly colored tattoos running over his collarbone and down his chest like a wave crashing over the shoreline. All the time Jett and I spent together, I never so much as saw him without a shirt, and now I sort of feel shortchanged. He saw me naked every day and deprived me of the view in return.

  “See something you like, sweet thing?” Jett asks flirtatiously, grabbing onto the doorframe above his head. The cuts of his muscles rippling, becoming more defined.

  Um, hell yes.

  “Ahhhh . . .” I finally look up into his eyes and they are dancing with humor, and possibly something else. Something hot and completely forbidden.

  “What are you doing here, Ellie? Shouldn’t you be trying to reconcile with Kayne?” he asks suggestively. Oh, how little does he know. Kayne and I are nowhere near reconciling. Like not even a little.

  “We got into a fight.” I bite my lip.

  “A fight?”

  “I threw wine in his face.”

  Jett frowns. “I see.”

  “I’m so confused.”

  “About what?” he asks concerned.

  “Everything,” I answer exasperated.

  “Oh boy.” Jett releases the doorframe and steps outside. “Let’s talk.”

  I nod.

  Jett and I sit on the side of the wooden walkway, our feet dangling over the edge. I fiddle with my fingers silently not knowing where to start.

  “Ellie.” Jett takes one of my hands in his, and I tighten my grip. I feel grounded when I’m with him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  I heave a sigh, looking over at him. You know it’s really not fair to the rest of the men in this world. Jett is too pretty and nice and intuitive for his own good. He has me gawking like a fool at his cut muscles and light eyes accentuated in the moonlight.

  “What’s going on?” I repeat. “Great question.”

  I gnaw on my lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as I try to figure out where to start.

  “Um?” I struggle, trying to pinpoint exactly where everything went wrong. Probably when I got on the plane.

  “Okay,” Jett senses my dilemma, “let’s start at the very beginning. How did you feel when you saw him again?”

  “Confused.”

  “Confused how?”

  “I didn’t know how to act,” I admit ridiculously. “I wasn’t sure if I should kneel at his feet or spit in his face. I don’t know who to be around him.”

  “Ellie,” Jett’s voice pitches. “You don’t need to be anyone but yourself. That’s who Kayne wants.”

  “Myself?” I scoff. “I barely know who that is. I’m nothing but a twenty-three-year-old college freshman trying to figure out her life. That’s who he wants?”

  “Sweet thing,” Jett squeezes my hand, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, we are all just twenty-three-year-old college freshman trying to figure out our lives. Kayne especially.”

  I give him a skeptical look.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Ellie. Kayne is in the same place you are. He’s just as confused, and borderline desperate.”

  “Desperate?”

  “Mmm hmm. Desperate to get you back.”

  “What if I can’t . . .”

  “Forgive him?”

  “Trust him.”

  Jett studies me like a science experiment, those turquoise-blue eyes poking me like probes.

  “Trust him not to lie to you?”

  I look up at the stars and take a deep breath. “In a way. I’m afraid he’s always going to see me as an object. I’m afraid his feelings aren’t real, and I’m afraid if I open myself up I’m just going to get hurt again.”

  Jett puts his arm around my shoulders comforting me. “I get it, Ellie. I do. You and Kayne have a very sordid past. Your fears are justified, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that Kayne’s feelings are real.” He lifts my chin so I’m looking at him in the eyes. I’m convinced they are the most genuine eyes on the planet. “Let me tell you something about Kayne. Trusting women is a hard limit for him.”

  I sit up straight, surprised.
“Why?”

  “It stems from his upbringing. I’ll let him give you the gory details. You should hear it from him anyway. It’s his story to tell. But I can say confidently, with you, he’s shattering all his insecurities. And it’s making him vulnerable.”

  “Vulnerable?” I question skeptically. Are we talking about the same alpha male who stripped me naked, forced me to submit, and controlled my entire existence without one bat of an eyelash?

  “Yes,” Jett confirms, “and that’s a very dangerous place for Kayne.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it makes him lose control.”

  “Control of what?”

  “His life.”

  “Oh.” I frown.

  “Ellie, let me paint you picture to try and help you understand.

  Imagine what it would be like to live your entire life in the dark, and then one day suddenly experience the sun. To feel its warmth and bask in its light, to feed off it and become dependent on it. And then in a flash have it ripped away leaving you in the cold dark place you once were.

  “Kayne lived in the dark. And then you came. You were his sun, and his light, and his warmth. The moment you left, he was thrust back into the darkness. An abysmal place where he drowns in the demons of his past. He needs the light now more than ever. He needs you. Don’t doubt the sincerity of his feelings. They’re more real than you and me, and the air that we breathe. Trust me, I would never lie to you about something as delicate as Kayne’s feelings.

  “He’ll never intentionally hurt you. Of that, I’m sure. The man is more loyal than a dog. But I’ll be honest, Kayne is intense and sometimes hard to handle, especially when his emotions get involved. That’s why he was so over the top when it came to you, in all aspects,” he insinuates, and I nod, understanding. “He wanted you to feel what he was feeling. And it was the only way he knew how to show it.”

  My cheeks suddenly heat. The man does know what he’s doing between the sheets. I can still feel every orgasm like they were branded between my legs.