by Selina Marie
I look out the glass windows, which boast a panoramic view of Penderal Bay. I was the only person to have this view; nobody else lives here, and there aren’t any other houses built up on the clifftop like mine because I won’t allow it. Complete solitude apart from the people who congregate on the beach, who resemble grains of rice when watching from way up here. They will speculate and ponder who lives here and they will continue to do so, because this is the only place where I can truly be myself.
Sliding the glass door open I step out onto the balcony. The end of spring is coming but it’s still pretty cold out—my muscles tighten in confirmation. I grip the ledge, just where her hands had been when she came apart. She likes music, good taste too. Likes to dance, and she is damn good at it.
I make a mental note to make sure I see her doing that again some time…for me.
She has petite curves, but her hips are so perfectly proportioned to the rest of her, and I don’t think she has any idea how beautiful and sexy she is.
I bet she has guys falling all over themselves for her.
The idea sending a burning sensation through my body, settling in my gut. I’m a man on fire, burning with rivaling emotions and it’s too much of a mind fuck.
Gripping onto the railing, I’m finding it hard to control my anger as I think about Emilia, and all the guys I imagine she’s had at her mercy—my guess is that there have been plenty. There is no way she has gone through her twenty years without a bunch of assholes chasing her. She is gorgeous, captivating, and sexy as sin. The way her hair cascades down her back reaching her waist is the hottest thing ever, and I want to wind the strands around my fist and pull. Hard.
A door slamming shut echoes and snaps me out of my head. I flip my Rolex around on my wrist checking the time; Emilia will be home soon, and I still have so much shit to do. Taking fast strides, I cross the balcony over to my side where my bedroom joins and overlooks the same view.
Five minutes later, my driver Sergio is waiting, and we make our way into the city.
Penderal Bay is about a twenty-minute drive from Penderal city, where my offices are located. I own a lot of real estate, large corporations and other smaller businesses. I’m also a very well-known bachelor, which is why I was a little surprised Emilia didn’t recognize me. I’m not disappointed by that, quite the opposite actually.
The usual harem of women who chase me are a lot like Alexis—fame obsessed, attention seeking, shallow, vapid puddles with about as much depth too. I get a lot of female attention and I’m well aware why. I look good and I’m rich as fuck.
Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a man whore. Yes, I like to fuck and I’m damn good at it, but I’m extremely particular in who I choose to fuck. I have to be, because of the potential risks that being with any random woman bring—especially being who I am in society. My reputation means something to me. I will not be disrespected by anyone. People can talk mundane and unimpressive shit if they choose to, but the second I’m made out to be something I’m not in a way that matters, I will fucking destroy the source, and anyone involved will regret it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lukas
My car pulls up to my building and I nod to Sergio in the mirror gesturing my thanks as I exit the Rolls Royce. Nobody makes eye contact with me as I make my way toward the elevator to the executive suite on the top floor. They never do. I’m not exactly what you call approachable, and that’s just how I want it.
Today, especially, I’m in a shitty mood because I’m horny as fuck and am living with a woman I hate, who drips with sexual energy and she doesn’t even know it. Making eye contact with me right now will not bode well for anyone.
The elevator door opens out to my suite, black marble stretches through the entire floor. It’s something I like to feature in a lot of my buildings, similar to what it’s like back at home. There is something about when the light hits the darkness reflecting from the fixtures above; the light and dark fight in a metaphorical dance together.
My assistant is at my side the instant my foot hits the marble, coffee in hand just as she has done every morning of the two years that she has been working for me.
“Good morning, Mr. Elin, I have left all of your messages on your desk. You have a meeting with Chief Inspector Monroe later today at eleven thirty sharp.” Andrea checks her watch discreetly as I take my coffee from her hand. I notice the subtle check though, I notice everything. Admittedly, I am running late this morning which never usually happens, but when you are unofficially holding your addictive enemy hostage in your home, some things take priority.
Technically, she isn’t a hostage, and I didn’t kidnap her. She could leave. It’s not like I am some creep who has locked her in the cellar, bound with no amenities. Though that sounds like a lot more fun.
“I need you to push the meeting forward to ten forty-five. I have somewhere I need to be at the original scheduled time.” My voice cold and abrupt. Like I said, I am in a shitty mood.
“But, Mr. Elin, it’s already ten fifteen—" I cut Andrea off with a look that makes her shrink back a little, not in fear… I think, but more weariness. I am not usually this pissed off and stern toward her. Nope, that’s a lie. I am.
“Then he still has thirty minutes to make it, and if he has a problem then maybe he would like to find a new investor for the funding he wants.” Andrea inhales sharply under her breath and scurries off to rearrange my meeting, her kitten heels clicking on the floor as she moves. The sound is pissing me off and I really need to cool off before I hire a new assistant, and I know I don’t want to do that. Andrea is good at her job, minus the heels and the ability not to read my mind or mood.
I finish up my meeting with Chief Inspector Monroe, who seemed irritated to have had to rush across the city—can’t imagine why, and head to my car, Sergio patiently waiting in the driver’s seat. I make sure all my drivers do not open my doors for me. I open my own doors physically and metaphorically speaking.
I swore I would never demand such a degrading act that makes people of authority’s egos and dicks grow even more, which nobody needs. It’s something my father did, and I witnessed him do a lot of shit. Viktor—my father, degraded and belittled women, men, anyone really, and maybe you can argue it was a product of his own upbringing, but I call bullshit. There is no excuse because I am living proof that you don’t have to repeat the shit you knew growing up. You are your own leader. You decide your actions and your reactions and there is nothing more to it. I’m not by any means a good man, but I would never lay a hand on a woman in rage.
My control never slips, but I can’t help but think a certain blue-eyed siren is challenging me and my self-control more than I care to admit.
Inspector Monroe has been in charge of leading the investigation into the disappearance of Alexis, so I keep tabs on him because, call it intuition or whatever the fuck you want, I don’t trust the guy as far as I can throw him, which ironically would be pretty far. Something doesn’t add up and my gut has never let me down this far.
On the drive back to the house, I shoot a text to Nate who is pretty much my brother. I trust him with my life. We’ve seen shit no one could even dream up since we were fucking kids. That’s the joy of being bred by the most powerful families in the world—you grow up way too fast. From the outside your life looks like a fucking fairy-tale, but behind closed doors, every second you’re living your darkest nightmares.
I message him to let him know I’m good to meet later for drinks and poker. We meet every Thursday without fail. He doesn’t know anything about the situation with Emilia yet. We might be brothers, but we don’t fucking gossip like a pair of eighty-something grandmas.
When I’m done, I check in with Jensen, my driver who escorted Emilia to the college. Penderal Community College where she studies criminal Law which I find intriguing, but not surprising given her background.
She hasn’t tried to run away, he reported, just took her classes and met up with a young woman nam
ed Melody. They are back at the house now and I am en-route because it’s time to talk. I need answers and I’ve lost patience; I need to find out what she knows, now.
The car pulls up and I get out making my way to change out of my navy tailored suit. Emilia is walking up the staircase toward her bedroom, her ass looks fucking edible. I want to reach out, grab her hips and squeeze it. And I almost do, almost.
She turns around looking down at me only four steps above me, and I’m still almost eye level with her.
“We have a few things to discuss. I’ll give you five minutes to change, meet me in my office.” I tell her, avoiding those hypnotic eyes.
“Why do I need to change? I’m fine in this…” She gestures to her top as she speaks.
“And for someone so privileged and impeccably dressed, you sure do lack in the manners department. Mommy and daddy not teach you any?” She starts down the stairs until she is only one step above looking up at me, challenging.
It takes everything in me not to bend her over the railing and teach her some manners of my own. I grind my teeth together, breathing through my nose, her breasts almost touching my abdomen. I clear my throat, and it comes out like a growl. She inches back a little, her eyes widening as if she realizes she hit the wrong button. Don’t react. You need her to trust you.
Her eyes are wide and open, an apology in their depths. I shrug it off, her proximity throwing me off. She doesn’t seem to be weighed down as much as usual; her irises aren’t clouded with apprehension or doubt. It takes me off guard a little and I swear her eyes are even a little different in color, they seem icier and more transparent.
“Suit yourself, sweetheart.” She is so close, it is too tempting. I grip her hips lifting her up, spinning her around and slowly setting her down on the ground level. I notice her sharp inhale when I touch her body, and I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t do something to my insides. The way she reacts to my hands on her body as if they are the first. Impossible.
Emilia’s eyes are focused on mine, wide but there is a flicker of something underneath, lust. Letting go of her body is something mine doesn’t like one fucking bit, but I do it anyway lifting my arm gesturing her toward the door that guards my office. She walks ahead moving closer to the door and further away from me. I close the door behind us.
“Take a seat. Please.” I smirk as I draw out the word ‘please’ longer than necessary, emphasizing her distaste for my apparent lack of manners. I think I catch a small twitch from the corner of her mouth. Interesting.
I haven’t actually seen her smile yet, not that I had or would give her much to smile about. It is something I want, but also something I would do everything to avoid. The girl is witchcraft personified. Hauntingly beautiful—literally—she haunted my dreams last night, before it cut to the wounded face of my mother and I woke up after that. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.
Why is my hate for her not enough anymore? I can’t stop this pull I have whenever she’s close. Why do I want to breathe her in like air, what’s changed? I’m so fucking sorry, brother.
If only she knew how much I really know about her, the secrets I hold and keep locked up tight, then she wouldn’t be here. She would run and a part of me almost tells her to. But instead, we stay. Her in the chair opposite me waiting for me to speak so willingly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Emilia
I sit across from him at his desk, waiting for him to speak. I’m not usually this patient and willing but my guard is slipping around him.
The way he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to his body was intense. I didn’t expect it, but it did all these fucked up things to my body, delicious things that I crave more of. I mean, I’ve never experienced these kinds of feelings before. I’ve had crushes in the past obviously, I am only human, but this is all new, weird and tempting, and exciting and dangerous on so many levels. It’s like my core body temperature soars and I turn molten when he’s near me. He makes me hot and cold simultaneously, if that’s even possible.
I am relieved he wanted to talk, because I have something I want to bring up too, something that will make this whole situation a lot better for us both. Let’s face it, he doesn’t want some random woman living off of him and in his house—I use the term ‘house’ lightly. Honestly, it makes me feel like a charity case, as much as he and this place are starting to grow on me.
I clear my throat starting before he does.
“I’m actually glad you wanted to talk.” He makes eye contact giving me his full attention.
“I think we can both agree that there is something weird going on here—” I hold up my hand halting him before he can interrupt me. “I’m grateful for your help, but I don’t want to be a problem for you any more than you want me to be.” I take a quick breath. “My best friend Melody said I can stay with her for a while, and I think it’s a good idea.” I stop, realizing I am staring at the floor avoiding his glare. I look back up at him, wanting to gage his thoughts and hoping he will agree, so whatever the hell this is can end.
I ignore the gnawing feeling that’s growing in my stomach—not wanting this to end.
“And what happens if your stepfather is alive and finds you, attacks you again? Will you be able to protect yourself? Is Melody secretly a hench warrior who knows how to break every bone in the body?” Lukas remarks sarcastically, his voice a little angry and a lot irritated. I fight a smirk, I mean I appreciate the sarcasm about Mel, but to be honest I wouldn’t be surprised if she did know that.
She’s a dancer but also trained in self-defense. So yeah, she probably could hold her own, but she shouldn’t have to hold mine. I mean I can fight a little and own a pocket-knife. If I need to defend myself, I will have no problem doing so—unless I am caught totally off-guard like I was when Robert attacked me.
He takes my silence for not having an answer, and he is right because I have nothing to say to that. So, I tell him a lie. “Lukas, I don’t want to be here.” My voice sounding stronger than I feel. Maybe Robert is alive and will come for me, or maybe he burned in the fire like I hope.
“Emilia, the reality is that your stepfather is likely to find you at some point if he is still alive. And if he does, would you rather your friend deal with him, or me?” He takes a deep breath and continues, “And as for you not wanting to be here, don’t forget no body was stopping you from leaving when you were coming on my fingers and grinding on my dick.”
Why did he have to go and throw my weakness for him in my face, like he needs some sick ego boost or whatever. He made me feel like shit when he implied I was promiscuous earlier in the kitchen, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. I snap. I stand up from my chair, moving so fast it shoots out hitting the floor with a loud crack.
“Ok! Fine, Lukas. Is that what you want me to tell you?! That I fucking loved having you touch my body? That I loved every second of your fingers inside of me, hitting the sweetest spot making me come so hard I couldn’t stand? Yes! I did, and I would do it all over again too. Except it wouldn’t end there.” I stop, my breathing rapid and my chest moving fast with every breath, shocked at my own confession of wanting more. I can’t want more from him. I can’t want anything from him.
His eyes are black, like the ocean at night, stormy, dark, needy and filled with want. I swallow hard because the way he is looking at me is like looking at a predator about to devour his prey.
Finally, after I catch my breath a little, he speaks. His voice is rough, pure gravel with a sharp edge. “Tell me. I want you to tell me where it would end for you.” He rises, standing up in all his tall and muscular glory, moving around the desk closer to me, not once breaking eye contact. The air is growing thicker and heated. My breathing getting laboured again as the proximity between us shrinks.
He isn’t as much as a foot away from me, waiting for me to speak. His fists clench tightly at his sides as his dark eyes dart violently between mine.
My confidence waning as the seconds tick by,
my shock taking over the frustration that caused my word vomit. A knowing look flickers across his deep irises and I know I am in too deep.
“Don’t back down now, baby, you want more, right? Tell me what you want, Kiska, and I might give it to you.” His fingers caress up my left arm, his other hand still in a fist. My gaze shifts down to his desire straining against his tailored trousers. I have noticed how drop dead sexy he is in a suit. All that muscle and perilous masculinity wrapped up in a fitted tailored masterpiece that probably costs more than I can imagine.
The heat and attraction between us is too much. It’s invading my head, my heart and my body, feasting on me. I can easily put the lubricant industry out of business right now with how wet I am.
I am still flustered, lost in the abyss of emotions pummelling through me when he speaks again.
“Okay, I’ll start. Tell you what I want.” Moving closer, his other hand grazes my hip as he practically groans out his words, heavy with lust and desire. “I want to feel your bare skin underneath my hands as I squeeze those luscious hips and ass until they bruise. I want to bend you over this desk, rip your thong off that pussy and taste you. I want to suck on your clit until you’re screaming for me to stop. But I won’t stop.”
Lukas cages me in against his desk, his hands on either side of me boxing me in. All I see is him. All I feel is him—all-consuming, and I want it. I want everything he’s saying. Fuck.
His calloused thumb glides along my cheekbone, down to my jawline, trailing down my throat and I am powerless—a mass of boneless gloop. Still moving lower, down to the outside of my breast, his fingers slide down slowly, like he is savoring every touch.
His voice is raspy when he talks. “Emilia, I want to make a deal with you.” His eyes are black, looking supernatural and desperate, heated with desire as he continues, “I’m going to do something for you. Actually, two things for you, but you have to do something in return for me. All I need for you to do is trust me and say yes when I ask. Understand?” His thumb glides over my nipple over my bra and top, causing it to tighten and pebble at his touch. I don’t trust him, but the onslaught of sensations is too much for me to think straight right now. I almost groan but instead I stare into his eyes and nod my head.
