He could have her.
She was too much for me.
Too much work, too much temptation, far too much addiction. I was glad Selix had hung around with the car because the sooner I was out of here, the better for everyone.
When Pim reached my side, I pointed at the bed. “Sit down.”
Unlike her other fractiousness, she obeyed immediately.
Her thighs hid the place she’d touched so unwilling, her ribcage pressed against her skin as she breathed faster with uncertainty.
She looked so goddamn beautiful even while bordering broken.
Looming over her, I paused.
If I did this, I would be slaughtering more than one law in my world. I would pay for it for months afterward.
But if I didn’t do this, I would forever wonder, and I didn’t like fucking wondering. It was a waste of time. Time I needed to dedicate to my empire. I’d take this one last thing from her and then…it was over.
Never looking away, I slammed to my knees.
She gasped as we became eye-level and every wildness inside me told me to flip her over and fuck her. Just take what I wanted.
But she would shut down like before.
She’d bury herself deep.
And I didn’t want to claim her body.
I wanted her mind.
She was wily and adaptive and this was the only way I could harness a piece of her and make her stay.
I just didn’t know how much of myself I would give up in the process.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Pimlico
His hands came up.
I jerked away, but his strong fingers lashed around the back of my head, keeping me pinned. Familiar terror froze me as the button for pain doused my senses. I couldn’t stop it. I’d been brutalised too many times to override such an instinctual shutting down.
“I won’t hurt you.” His breath kissed me first. His promise did nothing to calm my nerves. The way he kneeled before me twined barbwire through my heart, making it bleed. In that one small position, he gave me more power, more respect than I’d ever been given.
It gutted me.
But then his lips landed on mine.
And the world slammed to a stop before spinning wildly in the wrong direction.
I didn’t know what to do, how to act.
Should I pull back?
Bite him?
Give in to him?
I froze.
Should I flee?
Hide?
Sink down where he couldn’t touch me?
I shivered.
I couldn’t do anything because his lips were the perfect collar, keeping me leashed tight and trembling.
First, his questions had worn me down, and now, he’d finally taken something physical.
A kiss.
His tongue slipped into my mouth.
My chin arched on its own accord, desperate for passion even when I didn’t know what it was. Bubbling, bulldozing heat whipped like horse-galloping chariots in my blood.
Master A rarely kissed me, and if he did, it was wet and wrong. But this…there was nothing wrong about this. Peculiar, definitely. Astounding, absolutely. But wrong, not at all.
My lips sparked for a different type of kiss from a different type of man, but for some reason, Mr. Prest stopped.
His mouth feathered on mine as if testing to see how far he’d pushed me, how far he’d pushed himself. His eyes blazed with the need to stop. But his lips beckoned me to start and never cease.
I wanted him to stop.
I needed him to stop.
But a small microscopic part of me denied my lies. My heart shook its head, reaching out for more tenderness, knowing without being told that this was the only time I would receive such a thing.
If I didn’t let myself live in this second, while a handsome stranger gave me something I’d forever thought was lost, then I was an idiot.
I did want this.
I needed this.
I deserve this.
“Do you want me to kiss you? Will you let me take one thing from you?”
Once again, his question was meant to trip me up and force me to reply.
He was good.
He’d befuddled my mind with dreams and kisses and now expected me to nod with permission.
But I’d been silent for too long to slip.
Instead of nodding or pulling away, I remained where I was. Our breaths mingling, our bodies tingling, and the chemistry that’d made us aware of each other from the beginning dragging us faster into its charm.
He half-smiled, huffing in impatience. “You really won’t talk, even though you know I’m not like him.”
I stared into his eyes, forcibly ignoring the call to answer.
I expected him to end the kiss he’d bestowed, to stand up and stalk away. But his gaze dove deeper, tearing past my unruliness, finding something he accepted.
“Fuck, you’re strong.” His lips landed on mine again.
His fingers tightened around my face, holding me firm. His hold was both comforting and a shackle.
Most of me wanted to run.
But as his tongue once again teased my mouth, I let go of what I should and shouldn’t do. In two years, I’d never allowed myself to think I was broken. I wasn’t broken. I was still alive. But I knew something Mr. Prest did not.
Master A wouldn’t care that his guest hadn’t slept with me. He wouldn’t care that nothing had truly happened between us. He would kill me anyway.
I’d been his most expensive trophy, but tonight was the night another man tarnished me, and I’d slipped from mantel to box.
To a coffin.
My heart jangled as if trapped in a money jar, desperate to feel something good before more bad could find me. I leaned into the kiss, giving him a soundless reply that yes, I wanted him to kiss me, that yes, I was grateful for what he’d given me, even though I still loathed him for using my father’s nickname for me.
The kiss changed from foreign to welcoming; our bodies fell together. His hands slipped from my face to my hair, yanking my head to kiss me harder. My fingers—both usable and broken—looped around his wrists, holding onto him rather than pushing away.
I never thought I’d find something so singular and sweet.
But I had.
He’d found me.
He’d given me one night of demands and acceptance, and this was goodbye.
All control drained from my body as my head lolled in his hold. I gave up entirely. Whatever this was, I didn’t want it to end.
His lips pressed mine harder, encouraging sparks as our mouths never stilled.
I shifted restlessly, desperately as my attention riveted to his dexterous tongue and masterful manipulation.
He forced me on a strange tide where I no longer listened to the outside world but my inner one.
The one I’d lost touch with since I was murdered and bought. The one that was so much bigger than the universe I lived in.
The slow incineration quickened as our mouths turned hungry and messy. There was no synchronisation anymore.
“Do you feel it, Pim?” He panted between kisses. “Do you feel your body preparing for me?” His voice switched to a growl, his lips brutal on mine. “Shit, I want you.”
My back bowed as he jerked me forward into his embrace.
Something happened to me.
I was no longer on the same path.
I’d stepped off it.
No, I’d been dragged off it. By this man.
This sinful angel who’d somehow become my defender and liberator all in one.
I didn’t know him.
But I wanted to.
He’d saved my life by giving me a second of happiness. I wanted him to remain in my life. But I knew that wasn’t possible.
He practically hissed with heat. I couldn’t think while he looked at me like that, kissed me like that, stole everything from me like that.
His tongue slid leisurely along my bottom
lip, making me crave what he gave so recklessly. I wanted his tongue on me, inside me, consuming me. I wanted things I didn’t understand or ever thought I’d contemplate.
His heavy-lidded glower was furious, angry, full of lust, lust, lust. He screamed sex. But not rape. Sex. Consensual sex—so far from the realm of everything I knew.
His chest rippled as his hand cupped my cheek again. His belly tightened, making his dragon smoke and sizzle.
“I’ve finally made you talk, Pim.” The glitter in his gaze danced with knowledge. “Your body likes me, even if you don’t.”
The surge of complicated, unknown emotions battered me just as nastily as Master A’s fists. I didn’t know why, but in that second, I was devastated—not from the pleasure he’d given, but the low that would hit so damn hard once he left.
I wanted to live in this moment for eternity.
I wanted to find self-worth and happiness in this false togetherness. I wanted companionship but by wanting that, it made me weak because I wanted to lean on him after leaning on myself for so, so long.
I liked him.
He kissed me again, stopping my thoughts and forcing me to accept him on a deeper level than I ever intended.
I was no longer a slave or imprisoned or trapped.
I was kissed.
Kissed.
Mr. Prest slowly pulled away, taking his heat, warmth, and protection with him.
That was…I didn’t have words.
Exquisite?
Devine?
Terrifying?
I hovered in the final bliss of the best thing I’d been given in so long, plummeting into lethargy so heavy and consuming, I struggled to keep my eyes open. What had he done to me? Why did I feel drugged and obsessed and so, so tired?
He didn’t move.
His gaze waged war with things far too deep and dangerous for just a kiss, and I was grateful when he shook his head, carefully masking whatever had happened.
His lips arranged into a self-satisfied smirk. “I take it that was your first?”
My cheeks heated.
I closed my eyes, already coming down from the torrential high he’d shown me.
His knuckles nudged my chin, startling my gaze to open.
“How many other firsts have you been denied?”
What…what do you mean?
Standing from his kneeling position, he sat on the bed and ran a hand over his mouth.
Something hot and needy sprang to life inside me. I didn’t know what it was, but it was tentative but strong, confused but focused.
Twisting to face me, he pressed his fingertip against my forehead. “Has someone made you wet just by talking to you? Telling you what they’re about to do? Giving explicit detail of what they like about your body, what you sound like, taste like, beg like?” He bowed closer, his baritone making me drunk. “Whispering how fucking much they need to be inside you until you shatter the instant touch is given?”
Wow…
The shock and power of his voice almost made me forget my muteness. My head shifted slightly side to side in a very clear and none permitted no.
He exhaled heavily. “I take it that’s another first. Finally answering a question.” His teeth flashed in the low-lights. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
The strange thing was, I believed him. He hated Master A almost as much as I did. He wouldn’t run to him and spill whatever we’d just done. It wouldn’t benefit him in any way.
I stiffened as his finger dropped from my forehead, along my nose, to my lips. “How about this first?” His head lowered, his mouth landing on mine for another brief kiss. “Has anyone kissed you so fucking hard you’re bruised when you come up for air? Has anyone kissed you for fucking hours, tormenting you until you’re drenched for his cock?”
God, stop.
I pressed my lips together. A slight tenderness existed from his attentions.
This time, I fought the urge to reply, but he read the way my tongue licked the redness he’d graced me with.
I shivered as he swayed upward, removing the temptation of his kiss.
The talk of firsts and the indescribable way he spoke about them shoved aside my circumstances and made me wish.
Wish for a life to indulge in firsts. Rather than wish for death to end them.
His finger moved again, leaving my mouth to trail along my chin, neck, to my breasts. Cupping one, he murmured, “What about here, Pim? Has anyone sucked so fucking hard on your nipple it swells and stings? Anyone bit until you cried for mercy or clamped toys on you, making you obey all commands?” His touch rolled my nipple, squeezing just a little.
No…
My breathing turned into a gasp as his fingertip followed the soft curve of my breast, to my ribcage, waist, finally tracing my belly button. His intense gaze hinted he wished to touch me between my legs, but he wouldn’t.
Caught up in the insane web we’d woven, I trembled as he said, “I wanted to give you another first. I wanted to make you come. I see now it would’ve been impossible for you because you’ve never felt true pleasure.”
His forehead furrowed. “There are so many firsts to explore with your pussy, Pim. Have you ever felt a man’s tongue inside you? His mouth on your clit? What about his fingers so fucking deep inside you, you forget how to be human and become an animal instead?”
The tightening in my limbs layered me with yet more sultry seduction.
“I want to give you so many firsts.” He leaned toward me, his eyes hooded, his mouth only millimetres from mine. “I want to—”
Disaster struck.
The door exploded inward.
Shrapnel clattered as hinges buckled and wood panels splintered.
No!
Tony’s grunts ripped through the silence as he destroyed the entryway with a baseball bat—demolishing the one thing protecting us.
Master A stood behind him, barking instructions.
My heart sprinted from the tentative wandering in paradise and slammed back into its prison.
No, no, no!
That was why he’d given us so much time. Why Mr. Prest had the privilege of lying beside me unhurt.
Master A called for backup.
“What the fuck?” Mr. Prest launched himself upright, his body sprung and ready for a fight. “Get the hell out. I’m not done.”
I shrivelled as Master A stalked into the room. In his hand, he held a gun.
I’d never seen him with the black revolver, but the way he wielded it—with confidence and precision—said he wasn’t a stranger to such things.
His gaze leapt between my nakedness and Mr. Prest’s trouser-clad form. “Did you have fun fucking my slave?” He cocked his head condescendingly, glaring at me. “Did you behave, Pim?”
I looked down, hiding behind sleep-tangled hair.
Fuck off, you mutant!
The usual proverbial sword and shield I fought with had been stupidly abandoned during Mr. Prest’s wicked kiss.
I didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. To live in hatred and pain anymore.
Nonsensical questions ran riot as I did my best to sink into mute protection.
How long had Mr. Prest let me rest all while tracing the sweetest strokes on my back? How much time had we wasted that could’ve been spent kissing before Master A arrived to tear us apart?
It doesn’t matter.
It’s over.
I was on my own again. Like always.
Mr. Prest sucked in a breath. “Did you not hear me? I. Said. I’m. Not. Done.”
“Oh, yes you fucking are.” Master A turned brick-red with rage as his hand trembled around the gun. “Get out. I want that yacht, Mr. Prest, but I’ve paid you more than enough. Leave!”
My shoulders slumped as a crystal-clear conclusion hit me. My plans to use Mr. Prest to free me vanished. He would never free me. He had a contract with my owner, and that contract trumped whatever silly kiss we’d just enjoyed.
Don’t ask him for more.
Tears stung my eyes as Master A stalked forward. He barely looked at me, obsessed at kicking this trespasser from his house.
The fact he’d waited for Tony to act as support reaffirmed what a spineless coward he was. He couldn’t stomach facing Mr. Prest on his own.
The muzzle of the gun came up, pointing squarely at his dragon tattoo.
Memories of Mr. Prest telling me the murder count of my cowardly owner sent catastrophic energy into my legs. I knew my fate. I accepted it. But I wouldn’t let another bleed for me—even if he wasn’t innocent of crime.
Mr. Prest was the only man who’d been nice to me.
I won’t watch him die.
Instinct controlled my body. Impulse overrode sanity and submission. I did something I’d never done. And I didn’t do it for me.
I did it for him.
Dashing forward, I placed myself in front of the thief who’d kissed me. In front of the gun. In front of whatever would happen to me because of my bold stupidity.
The room shot silent.
I froze solid.
Horror at what I’d just done compounded with lead weights, making me sink, sink, sink with fear.
Tony’s mouth gaped as his watery gaze gawked. “Holy shit.”
Master A’s eyes literally popped from his head. He spluttered in livid disgust, “Get the fuck out of the way, Pim. I’ll deal with you later.”
My shoulders squared, not caring my naked form would offer no protection. There’d been no one to stand up for me. I would die. But at least the sad cycle would be over.
The terror at what I’d live through rolled my spine as I fought the urge to step away and obey. I didn’t know why I stood up for a man twice my size with so many more skills at staying alive than me.
But I did.
It was my last attempt at being Tasmin before Pimlico was gone.
Don’t shoot him.
Let him go.
Mr. Prest yanked me back and behind him, wrapping his naked arm around me. “She’s confused. I ordered her to protect me if you fucking barged in.” His fingers dug into my skin. “Don’t hurt her for a command I gave.”
You’re lying.
He’s trying to protect you.
“Oh, she’ll be hurt all right. Don’t you worry about that. All you need to worry about is getting your fucking ass out of my house. Right now!” Master A’s finger teased the trigger, pointing directly at Mr. Prest’s tattoo. Cocking his head at the mess Tony had made of the door, he yelled, “I want you out!”
Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance Page 265
