HIS PROPERTY (Book Three)

by Ford, Hannah

  “In there!” I said, feeling like I was in some kind of comedy sketch or hidden camera show. “In the office you just came from.”

  “I didn’t come from an office,” the woman said, opening the door behind her and showing me. “It’s just a staircase.”

  Sure enough, she was right. The door didn’t lead to an office at all. It led to a long concrete stairwell, the kind of stairwell that usually led to a parking garage.

  I closed my eyes as the realization of what had just happened washed over me.

  My father had left.

  With the money.

  And with him had gone my chances of getting out of this mess.

  4

  EMERY

  Liam had to confirm it of course, had to question the way it had happened, had to make sure that my father had really gone. It was annoying as hell and made no sense – Liam was the one who’d brought me here, who’d told me that my father was a scumbag, and now he was doing everything he could to prove it. What was proving it going to do? Nothing except make me feel even worse than I already did.

  But Liam was such a control freak that there was nothing I could do about it. He was insistent, and as soon as he started making demands, the casino employees started scurrying around like Santa’s elves.

  We stood in the security office in the back of the casino, watching tapes on the monitor as my father and Tito – who, we were informed, wasn’t a pit boss at all, but another ne’er do well my father had befriended during the time he’d spent here – hopped into a taxi and took off to God knows where.

  Liam was furious. The head of the casino was called down immediately. The man tried to talk Liam down, offered him all kinds of comps and free rooms, but Liam didn’t care about any of that.

  He stormed out of the office and pushed his way through the door that my father had gone through, the one that led to the stairwell.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I yelled as I struggled to follow him. I was wearing those ridiculous high-heeled shoes that he ‘d made me wear, and the soles were slipping all over the concrete floors.

  “Catching him,” he growled.

  “What? We can’t catch him, Liam. You saw the tapes. He’s gone.” I held onto the railing and did my best to keep up with him, but with every step it seemed as if Liam were widening the distance between us. “Will you please slow down?” I panted.

  “No. We can catch him.”

  “Liam, we cannot catch him. Trust me, I’ve been trying to catch my father for twenty-one years. There’s no catching him.”

  But Liam didn’t like hearing the words “we can’t” or “it won’t work.” In fact, my protests and declarations that his mission was a lost cause seemed to do nothing but make him more determined.

  “Slow down!” I yelled. “Jesus,” I mumbled under my breath.

  When I finally caught him, he was at the bottom of the stairs, standing in a tiny vestibule encased in glass. Through a set of automatic doors was the employee parking lot, and beyond that, in the distance, was the traffic circle we’d seen on the security tapes, the one where my father had jumped into the taxi with Tito.

  My father had been smart, leaving through the employee parking lot. It was a lot less busy than the circle at the main entrance, which was a constant parade of cars and shuttles. My father had never been stupid, though, at least not when it came to getting away with things.

  I watched now as Liam stared out the window across the parking lot, as if he couldn’t believe my father was gone.

  “I’ll find him,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

  “For what?” I demanded. “He’s not going to give you the money. What’s the point?”

  He ignored me, scrolling through his phone until he found the number for whatever minion he was looking for to call and summon to help him.

  “Liam!” I said. “Stop! This is ridiculous. You’re just mad that you didn’t win.”

  He looked at me, his eyes stone cold. “Mad because I didn’t win?” he repeated, and his voice was even more frigid than the look on his face.

  “Yes. You’re mad because someone got over on you. But guess what? It’s a part of life.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “You can’t control everything. You shouldn’t even want to! You were so determined to show me that my father was an asshole, and okay, great, now you’ve proven what we all already knew. Why do you want to go after him?”

  “You need to watch your smart mouth.” His voice, which just a few moments ago, had been filled with emotion and urgency as he talked about hunting down my father, was now cold, devoid of any emotion.

  “I’m not being smart,” I said. It was true. This wasn’t like before, when I was in that hotel room wiping off my make up, or when I was on the casino floor, acting immature and reckless as I’d shoved that card into the slot machine. Now I really wanted to know. “Why do you want to go after him? What is it going to prove? He’s an asshole, I get it, thanks for clueing me into something I’ve known my whole life.” My words were biting, but my tone was calm.

  But Liam wasn’t calm.

  He was on the outside, but there was a storm brewing in his dark eyes, one I knew all too well.

  “You will not talk back to me.” He reached up and rubbed his jaw, as if he were contemplating his options.

  “It’s not talking back to have an opinion,” I said, and I could feel my fists clenching by my sides, could feel myself losing the grip I’d had on my carefully constructed calmness. I’d said I never wanted to see him again, but now all I wanted was to get through to him. “Just because it’s different than yours doesn’t mean I’m talking back.”

  “I know what’s best for you, Emery.”

  He took a step toward me, and I hated when he was like this, hated when he acted like he knew everything, that I was just some naïve girl who he had to protect. I shook my head. “No,” I said. “No, you don’t. Because what’s best for me isn’t this.”

  “That’s enough.”

  “No, it’s true,” I said. “It’s true and you know it.” Emotion swelled in my chest, and my fists clenched even tighter by my sides, like the harder I gripped them, the more likely it was that he would listen to me. “I keep thinking that if I just try to understand you, if I just…” My voice choked up as I spoke, and I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to keep talking. But I summoned my strength. I needed to say this, needed to get it out. “I keep thinking that if I just keep doing what you want, if I just keep playing by your ridiculous rules then maybe this will be real.” There. I’d said it out loud. “But I’m embarrassed by the way I’m acting. I’m embarrassed by the fact that I can’t see straight, that I know that you kidnapped me, that you told me straight out I can’t save you, and yet I still want to.” It was true. I still wanted to save him. My heart wanted to save him, wanted to rush to him, to have him take me in his arms. Even as I was saying the words, deep down that was what I wanted.

  Liam closed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was a brief moment where I thought he was going to tell me that he could be saved, that the wounds inside of him could be healed, and that I would be the one to do it.

  But instead, his face clouded and he took a step toward me.

  His hands encircled my wrists as he spun me around and pushed me roughly up against the glass. “Do you feel better now?” he growled. “Better now that you’ve made your opinions known?” He spit the words at me, as if the fact that I’d tried to make him see that I had opinions was silly, something a child would do.

  “It’s not about feeling better,” I said. “It’s about –”

  He placed his hand over my mouth, cutting me off. His other hand skated up my thigh, pushing up under the skirt of my dress until it met my ass. He squeezed hard and I gave a surprised whimper that was almost unable to be heard through the hand he had over my mouth.

  He continued his assault, moving to my pussy. He still had my panties, and his fingers s
kated over my bare slit, feeling the wetness there. He was right. My body would always give me away.

  His eyes narrowed, his chin raising in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought,” he said, as he let pulled his fingers away. I moaned involuntarily, wanting them back on me.

  I hated him in that moment, hated that he’d brought me here to face the truth about my father, hated that he wasn’t listening to me, but I craved him too, wanted him almost more strongly than I ever had before.

  It was twisted and wrong, and I could see that much more clearly in the rare moments that I was away from him – that day in the café with Maddie, when he left me alone in my room, when that police officer had seen the bruises on my wrist and didn’t seem to care – but when he was in my presence, it was like I didn’t care.

  The only part of the wrongness that seemed to reach me when his hands were on me, when his tongue was on my skin, when he was ordering me around, when he was lashing me with his belt, when he was spanking me, was the humiliation I felt. And the humiliation only served to heighten my need for him.

  Liam’s eyes flashed with desire and satisfaction, and something else – ownership, possession – as his hand moved back up and he slipped his finger into my mouth, making me taste myself on him.

  I groaned and closed my eyes, not able to take the way he was looking at me, but he held me by the back of my neck and grabbed me roughly. “Eyes open,” he growled.

  My eyes opened and locked on his. The sides of his mouth tugged into a devastating grin and my heart pounded in fear.

  He took my hands and pushed them behind me, placing them on the metal railing that ran around the glass of the vestibule.

  “Do not move your hands. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He picked me up, lifted me so that I was sitting on the railing, balanced, his hands on my hips. I felt small and delicate, and he handled my body so deftly, his strong frame lifting and moving and molding me to his whims as if I weighed nothing.

  My pussy ached at the way he handled me, and the humiliation that was always there, vibrating and shimmering under the surface, caused my cheeks to color.

  He pushed my skirt up roughly so that it was bunched around my waist.

  “Liam – “ My hand started to move from the railing – he was holding me up, so there was no need for me to be holding onto it, except for the fact that it made me submissive to him – but he took my hand and forced it back onto the railing, his grip tightening around my wrist.

  “Someone will see,” I whispered.

  “Someone will see what?” he demanded, and I instantly wished I hadn’t said anything. Any response from me, any protest, no matter how seemingly slight, would result in him making whatever he was going to do worse.

  “See what you’re doing to me.” My cheeks got hot.

  “And what is that?”

  I swallowed. “Pulling my skirt up.”

  “And what else?” He’d let go of my wrists now and was holding my hips in his hands as he tilted my pelvis up toward his.

  “Holding me by the hips,” I said, afraid of what he was actually about to do, right here in front of anyone who happened to walk in from the parking lot or step off the elevator.

  “What else?” he prompted.

  My mouth went dry even as my body was instantly responding to his, my pussy growing hot, my core clenching, my hips involuntarily tilting up.

  He pushed my dress up more, his thumbs skating over my bare flesh, and then he leaned down and planted a kiss right beneath my belly button. I shivered and tipped my head back, closing my eyes.

  “Eyes open,” he snapped.

  I opened my eyes, watching as his tongue licked a searing trail from my navel down over the mound of my pussy, stopping right before he got to my slit.

  “I want to humiliate you, Emery,” he growled. “I want to push you to your knees and make you take my cock all the way down your pretty little throat.”

  I whimpered again.

  “But this pussy,” he murmured, his finger sliding over my slit, opening my folds just a tiny bit. “I need to taste it first.”

  “We should go inside,” I said. “A room, or the even the elevator.” The elevator, which just a few moments ago, would have seemed a ridiculous choice, now offered a level of protection I was willing to beg for.

  “What am I going to do to you now, Emery?” he demanded, ignoring my request.

  “Lick my pussy.”

  “What else?”

  “Slap it?” I tried.

  His eyes lit with surprise and approval. He took one hand off my hip and slapped my pussy. “Plead.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please slap my pussy.” I’d said the word pussy before of course, but up until a few days ago I’d been a virgin – I’d never even done any kind of “regular” sex, much less this kind of sex, where I was forced to say dirty words and beg for pain. The words still felt new and dangerous on my mouth, like the first time you have a sip of beer or do a shot.

  Liam slapped my pussy, sending shockwaves of heat and pleasure through my body.

  He kissed my lower belly, and I was so wet now I was afraid I was going to come just from that.

  His head went between my legs, and his eyes met mine. “Do not close your eyes.” He was so close that as he talked, I could feel his breath against my moist folds, and it made me squirm. “Do you understand?” he prompted, still holding me tight.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His mouth was on my pussy then, soft and slow at first, and I took in a shuddering breath. His eyes stayed locked on mine, making sure I watched as his tongue licked a long trail down between my folds, before his lips found my clit and he sucked me gently.

  “Oh,” I cried, surprised at how loud and high-pitched the sound was.

  He sucked my clit harder, and I watched his full lips, his hard jaw as he ate me out, his tongue moving expertly over me while he held me by the hips. A thousand fires burned between us, all of them hot and wrong and right at the same time. He worked my pussy with his mouth while his eyes worked my soul. I was bound to him. Even these dirty things we were doing bound me to him in some indefinable way.

  He licked and sucked and ate me, never using his fingers, just his mouth, brushing his tongue and lips over my clit, sliding his tongue deep inside of me before withdrawing and pulling back.

  My body was ready for a release, and I thought for sure Liam would want me to come quickly, since we were here in the lobby, completely exposed to anyone who might walk by.

  But it was the opposite. He took his time, bringing me to the brink of orgasm, then pulling back right before I was about to be pushed over the edge.

  He knew my body so well, knew exactly how it would respond, how to push and pull until I was sopping wet and begging for him to let me come.

  “Please,” I panted.

  “Please what?”

  “Please make me come.”

  “Make you come?” He raised his eyebrows as he spoke and moved his head down just a tiny bit, his hot breath skating over the inside of my parted thighs.

  The fact that he was pulling back made me desperate and panic slid up my spine. He wanted more, I realized. Me just saying that I wanted him to make me come wasn’t dirty enough for him, wasn’t enough humiliation.

  “Please,” I moaned. “Please make my pussy come with your tongue.”

  He slid his mouth slowly back to my pussy, his tongue sliding over the cleft, parting the swollen tissues.

  “Please, I need to come, sir,” I said. “I want you to eat me until I come.”

  “Again.”

  “Please lick and suck my pussy until I come.”

  His mouth was back on my clit now, and I watched as it began to move faster, as he sucked harder, his jaw clenching, the look in his eyes letting me know that he fucking owned me, that I was his possession.

  “I own this pussy,” he growled. “I’m the only one
who will ever make you come like this, do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered. “Yes, Liam.”

  “First and last,” he whispered, and I didn’t have time to think about what the words meant before he was diving back between my legs, his mouth and tongue probing, sucking, his mouth hot and wet and good. This time, when he brought me to the edge, he didn’t stop.

  He pushed me over, and my orgasm tore through me, leaving my legs weak and my body shuddering. He held me by the hips, waiting for me to recover, pulling me off the railing but not letting me go until he was sure I could stand.

  He pressed my back up against it, his arms encircling me as he pushed his body tight against mine. I could feel his erection straining against his jeans, pressing against my belly.

  His mouth slanted against mine and he kissed me, his tongue probing and rubbing against mine. I kissed him back with abandon, sucking his tongue, emboldened by what we’d just done, still high from the orgasm that continued to leave my knees weak.

  He ended the kiss first, leaving me wanting more, and then his hands were on my shoulders and he pushed me to the ground roughly, sliding me all the way down his body until my knees hit the hard concrete floor of the vestibule.

  He undid his zipper and his cock sprung free.

  My heart was thundering in my chest, my pulse racing, the blood pumping through my body hard and fast. The skin on my knees burned from where they’d hit the hard concrete, but the pain was the last thing on my mind.

  Now, on my knees, I couldn’t see behind him to the elevators, nor behind me to the parking lot.

  I was exposed on both sides – people could come from either direction, and I wouldn’t be able to see.

  Liam gave his shaft two hard strokes with his hand, gazing down at me before pressing his dick to my closed mouth. He slid the swollen head back and forth across my lips as I looked up at him, waiting for his instructions, now a slave to his every desire.

  He reached down and pushed my hair back from my face, tenderly, as if he wanted my face totally unencumbered so that he could watch me without anything obstructing his view.