Dark Domination (Bought By the Billionaire Book 1)
Page 6
As soon as he reached the bedroom, he stepped through the door and closed it firmly behind him before recapturing Harley’s hand and leading her deeper into the space. When they reached the center of the generous suite, near two small couches and a glass coffee table arranged in front of floor to ceiling windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the lush back lawn, he released Harley’s hand.
With his fingers digging firmly into her shoulders, he turned her to face him, his breath coming faster and his heart thudding heavily in his chest.
“Is everything okay, sir?” she asked, in that soft, submissive voice of hers, the one that was innocence and sex mixed into a potent cocktail that had kept his dick hard for most of the past hour.
Even with her eyes covered, she had read him like an open book and adapted to meet his unique needs in less time than it took most people to eat a meal. She clearly had a gift for giving men what they wanted, but it was all an act. Her perfection was only skin deep. In truth, she was a chimera, a mirage, a beautiful illusion that would linger just out of reach until the day she drew her weapon and plunged it into your heart.
“Sir?” she asked again, her arms beginning to tremble at her sides.
“Quiet,” he said, his voice hoarse and his breath still labored. He bench pressed well over two-hundred pounds and ran ten miles every day, rarely breaking a sweat until mile three, but his training hadn’t prepared him for Harley.
This was more than a battle of bodies. It was a battle of wills, of souls, and it was time she realized that hers belonged to him. She wouldn’t set the tone of their relationship. She wouldn’t be the puppeteer pulling the strings. She was his property and she would show him her true colors or he’d beat them out of her.
“Stop pretending,” he said. “Stop trying to manipulate me. That isn’t going to happen this time, sweetheart.”
Her breath sped, her chest rising and falling faster, but her trembling ceased. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“That’s because you’re a dumb cunt,” he said, enjoying her flinch in response to his hard words. “Now drop the act and show me the vindictive, psychotic bitch I bought. She’s the one I want right now.”
She shook her head ever so slightly and a sob escaped her parted lips. “I don’t understand.”
“You said that already,” he snapped. “Stop playing dumb and don’t you dare cry or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Her bottom lip quivered as she shook her head again. “I’m not playing, I swear! I just want to please you. I want to make you happy so you won’t hurt me. Please.” She paused, lips pressing together and her throat working as she fought to keep her tears at bay. “Please, sir. Please, believe me.”
“Believe you.” He laughed softly, an ugly laugh ripe with his barely suppressed rage. He reached out, driving his fingers into her hair and fisting his hand at the nape of her neck, drawing a mewl of surprise from her full lips.
“I will never believe you,” he said, pressing his cheek tightly to hers and whispering his words into her ear. “You will never have power over me and the sooner you realize that, the better. Now, you will show me the woman I want to see, show me the monster beneath your pretty face, or you will suffer the consequences.”
She whimpered. “Who do you want to see? Who do you want me to be?”
“Yourself!” he shouted, triggering a full-body cringe from the treacherous woman in his arms. “Be yourself! Stop denying who you are!”
“I am myself!” she shouted back, heat creeping into her tone. “I can’t be something I’m not. I’m not the woman who hurt you. I’m Hannah. I’m a good person. I swear I—”
With a growl of rage, Jackson tightened his grip in her hair and jerked down, forcing her to her knees in front of him. She landed with a cry he barely heard over the blood rushing in his ears.
“You are not a good person,” he seethed. “I know who you are and I will hear your true name from your own lips. Right now.”
She went very still and he could practically hear the wheels turning in her clever head. “Who are you? Why have you brought me here?”
“Right now I want to hear you say your name,” he said, ignoring her first question, knowing the truth would be revealed soon enough. “You will not think beyond what I demand of you in any given moment. Your will is mine. Now give me what I want or you will be punished.”
With a deep breath, she lifted her chin, somehow managing to project defiance even while on her knees. “Then punish me. I’m not going to play this insane game. I’m not going to pretend to be anyone but who I am. I am Hannah North, and I don’t deserve to be treated this way.”
“Punishment it is then,” he said, reaching for his belt buckle. “Take your dress off. Now,” he added when she hesitated a beat too long. “You chose punishment, Hannah, and I’ll have you naked to take it. Unless you’re ready to give me what I want.”
Her lips tight and her stubborn jaw set, she reached for the top of her dress and tugged it down her curves until it fell around her knees then reached down to guide it back down her calves. Jackson watched her bare her heart-stopping curves as he opened his fly and shoved his pants and boxers around his hips, freeing his aching length.
His cock bobbed free, the swollen flesh pulsing and eager. His dick didn’t care that he hated this woman. It was desperate to be buried between her legs, shoving into her hot mouth, sliding between her oil-slicked tits, whatever would get him off the fastest. But this wasn’t about pleasure—though he fully intended to come—and he had to maintain control, to prove to both Harley and himself that he was in charge.
“Touch your nipples,” he said, bringing one hand to his cock and beginning to stroke his own engorged length. “Pinch them, make them tight for me.”
Harley slowly brought her hands to her breasts but when her fingers captured her nipples it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. She only lightly stroked the pink flesh and her skin remained flat and unresponsive.
“Harder,” he said. “I want your pussy wet the way it was on the plane. I want you dripping down your thighs and your cunt hungry for something to fill it.”
“I don’t want to have sex with you,” she said, voice trembling. “Not like this.”
“We’re not going to have sex,” he said, kneeling in front of her. “When I finally fuck you, you will have been begging for it for days. You will be so desperate for my cock, you’ll lick the bathroom floor clean if that’s what it takes to get me to put it in you.”
Her lips puckered, but she didn’t speak a word. She didn’t have to.
“You think I’m lying,” he said, stroking his cock a little faster, aroused by the thought of her begging. “But I’m not. I will not take you by force. I won’t have to. Now pinch your nipples for me. That’s right. Like that. Now harder.”
She obeyed and slowly a telltale flush spread across her chest and her breath came faster. He waited until she was biting her bottom lip and her thighs were clenching and releasing, causing her hips to shift slightly, before issuing his next order.
“Lie back and spread your legs.” She hesitated, but he pushed on before she could protest. “Right now, Hannah, or I may rethink my promise not to fuck you on the floor.”
Her flush spreading up her neck, she lay back on the floor and spread her legs barely two hand widths apart, playing the prude though it was clear she was turned on.
“Wider, Hannah,” he said. “Grab the back of your knees and pull toward your shoulders. I want to see every inch of my pussy.”
She moved slowly, efficiently, clearly doing her best not to put on a show for him, but seeing her spread wide, revealing her most intimate places made his cock leap in his hand.
Fuck, she was even hotter than she used to be, so curvy and plush and obedient. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to slow his rhythm, to ease his grip on his swollen shaft. He was going to have his release, but first, he needed her to beg him for it.
And he knew exactly how
to make her beg. Harley had played him for the worst sort of fool, but the passion between them had always been real. She hated him, but that hadn’t cooled her lust any more than it cooled his own.
And now he was going to use his intimate knowledge of how his kinky little bitch liked it to begin bringing her under his thumb.
CHAPTER NINE
Hannah
Don’t respond. Stay cold, calm, above it all. Don’t let him get to you.
Hannah squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her jaw, struggling to stay motionless and unaffected as the insane person who’d bought her explored her sex with his long, thick fingers, playing through her folds, dipping into her slickness before circling her clit with a not-quite-firm-enough pressure.
She fought to shut down her nerve endings, but it was no use. This man was out of his damned mind, cruel, and probably dangerous, but he also knew how to play her like an instrument. He was a maestro and she was helpless to resist the erotic song he coaxed from her body.
Soon, her pussy was dripping and her sex plump and swollen beneath his touch. She stayed still as long as she could, but eventually she lost the battle against her own desire and lifted her hips, fighting to get closer to the fingers that stroked her clit hard enough to make her crazy, but not firmly enough to grant her relief.
“You want more?” he asked. “More here?” He tapped her clit, making her breath catch. “Tell me, Hannah. Tell me what you want or you won’t get it.”
“Yes, more,” she said, the words transforming to a yelp of pleasure-pain as he smacked her between the legs.
Pain flashed through her sensitive clit to spread through her belly, but it was followed by a rush of even more intense pleasure as his fingers returned to her clit and what felt like his thumb plunged into her pussy.
“Yes, sir,” he corrected as he worked her harder, building the need swelling inside her. “Or I’ll slap you again. Do you understand, Hannah?”
Hannah bit her lip, fighting the desire washing through her like a hot, sticky flood, a wild thing that didn’t care if this man was crazy or dangerous. That part of her didn’t give a shit that this was degrading, it just wanted him to slap her again.
“Or do you want more punishment?” he asked, proving she was hopelessly easy to read, even with a blindfold covering half her face. “You want more of this?”
He slapped her again, twice in rapid succession and she cried out, but it wasn’t a cry of pain. There was no mistaking the lust in the sound. She sounded like she was about to come and it suddenly wasn’t that much of a stretch to imagine herself at his feet begging him to fuck her.
If he teased her like this for too long, she would be so desperate for relief she had no idea what she would do.
“You like me to hurt you a little don’t you?” he asked, his breath coming faster, making her think he was turned on, too. As messed up as he was, he seemed to get off on her pleasure, not her fear, which she could only hope meant he didn’t intend to rape her.
It wouldn’t be rape. If he pushed his cock inside you right now, you wouldn’t fight. You’d beg him not to stop.
The thought made tears rise in her eyes and her face feel lava hot.
What the hell was wrong with her? How could she be falling so easily under this man’s twisted spell?
“Answer me, when I speak to you,” he demanded, swatting her two, three, four times between the legs, until her clit burned and the delicate skin around her pussy grew hot from the repeated contact.
“Yes, sir,” she panted, squirming her hips though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to get closer or farther away. The sensations he aroused in her were dizzying, making her feel outside herself and more in touch with her own desire all at the same time. “Yes, I like it when you slap me.”
“What about when I slap you here?”
Hannah cried out again as his big hand slapped first her right breast and then her left, rippling her flesh and making her nipples pull so tight they ached.
Ached for more. Ached for that heady sting and then his mouth hot on her puckered skin, taking the pain away.
“Yes, sir. Please, sir,” she said, her hunger peaking as his fingers set a faster pace between her legs, fucking her hard, but not hard enough.
Shamelessly, she spread her legs wider, silently begging for what she wanted, but she should have known her tormentor wouldn’t be satisfied with silence.
“Please, what?” he asked. “You want to come?”
“Yes, please. Please, sir!”
“You’ve already come twice in the plane,” he said, his voice husky with the same desire that was driving her crazy. “I think it’s my turn, first, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, reaching for him. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want you to put your hands back on your nipples,” he said. “Then I want you to beg me to come on your tits.”
She moved her hands, but when she opened her mouth the words wouldn’t come. She’d never said the word “tits” before in her entire life and she’d never been overly verbal in bed. Sighs, moans, and the occasional, “yes, there, more please,” were the extent of her dirty talk.
She was still trying to get her mouth to form the uncomfortable phrase when her tormentor suddenly pulled his hand away from her pussy, leaving her feeling bereft and abandoned.
And so damned unsatisfied, she couldn’t stifle the groan of protest that escaped her lips.
“If you want to come, you need to beg,” he said, his voice underscored by the faint sound of flesh sliding against flesh, making her think he was touching himself somewhere nearby.
The thought was unexpectedly, intensely arousing. She wondered what he looked like, kneeling over her prone body, his cock in his hand, stroking himself while he watched her roll her nipples between her fingertips. Imagining it made her even hotter and her wild, primitive side ached to drop her hands between her legs and bring herself over at the same moment he did.
But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her to beg and suddenly she wanted it too. She wanted whatever it was he needed to get off, to lose some of that fierce control and come because she had made him come.
“Come on my tits, sir,” she said, her voice breathy and strained as she rolled her nipples in firmer circles. “Please come on my tits. Please. I want to feel you.”
The sounds of flesh against flesh grew more urgent and when he spoke his sexy voice was an even sexier growl. “More. Beg me, Hannah. Make me feel how much you want me to cover you with my cum.”
“Please, sir,” she begged, her thighs clenching and releasing as the tension building inside of her became almost unbearable. “Please come on my tits. Cover me, mark me. I want you hot on my skin, I want to feel your—”
He cut her off with a groan and a second later she felt his hot stickiness splash across her chest, covering her hands and her breasts in his release, making her gasp and her clit throb. He smelled like fresh cut grass and lemons and something fiercely, unrepentantly male and his labored breath was music to her ears.
If you’d asked her beforehand, she would have assumed having a stranger come on her chest would be distasteful at best and revolting at worst, but right now all she felt was turned on. She could come from a single finger pressed against her clit, but only his finger.
She needed him to touch her, to bring her over until she was panting on the floor beside him. Her nerve endings buzzed and hummed with longing and her sex was so swollen and heavy her longing was quickly approaching suffering. It felt like there was a burning stone weighing down her pelvis and he was the only one who could take the pain away and replace it with pleasure.
“Can I come now, sir?” she asked, teeth digging into her bottom lip as her thighs clenched together, seeking relief. “Please, sir?”
“In a moment,” he said. “But first, I want you to see my face. Are you ready, Hannah?”
“Yes.” Her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips and her pulse fluttered in her ne
ck. She was nervous, but she was also excited, ready to see the face of this man who both enraged and seduced her so easily.
And scared her, she shouldn’t forget about that, but with the magic he’d set loose in her body making her high with desire, it was hard to remember to be afraid. How could she fear a man who, thus far, had given her the greatest pleasure she’d ever experienced?
Bar one night, one man, and she knew by now that no one would ever live up to him, to that intense sexual encounter so long ago that never should have happened in the first place.
She was thinking of him as her owner untied her blindfold. She was thinking of his incomparable body and sharply angled face. Of those eyes that were both hungry and devoted, predatory and so full of love she would have sold her soul to exchange places with her sister, to be the Mason twin that beautiful stranger loved with such devotion and intensity.
She was so lost in the memory that for a moment, when her blurred vision cleared and she looked up into the face of her captor, she was certain she was hallucinating.
It couldn’t be…
There was no possible way…
Her eyes widened and her heart raced, slamming against her ribs, excitement and confusion making her feel like she was being pulled in two. It couldn’t be him, but still…there he was, standing over her, zipping up his gray suit pants and pulling his belt back into place. His eyes were harder, his face covered in dark stubble, and his body even thicker and more powerful than she remembered beneath his button down shirt, but he was her stranger, there was no doubt about it.
He had come for her, bought her, taken her away, and now he wanted to punish her for her sins.
He must know that it hadn’t been Harley he was with that last night. He must know it and be sufficiently enraged by it that he had tracked her down and done whatever it took to get her isolated on this island and at his mercy.
Hiro must have been complicit in the scheme, which meant Aunt Sybil might not be safe. Hannah knew she should be worried about Sybil, concerned for her own safety, and terrified of this man who was clearly as obsessive and mad as he was gorgeous. But she had been waiting years to see his face again, to feel his hands on her, his body moving inside of her, his rough voice calling her name instead of her sister’s.