I watched the rise and fall of her chest for a few silent moments and approached the side of the bed. Pressing the cool end of the barrel beneath her chin, I lightly tapped her cheek.
Her eyes flew open, a few Spanish expletives immediately slipping out when she saw who was in her bedroom. “Sneaking into a lady’s bedroom? How far you’ve sunk,” she snipped, trying to be brave in the face of the boogey-man.
“Lucielle, we both know you’re not a lady. You’re a miserable old bitch. Now get the fuck up.”
I stepped back and waved her out of bed with the gun.
She shoved her comforter down and slowly stood up. Her arms crossed over her chest in an effort to hide her dark nipples.
“Stop the theatrics, Lucy; I didn’t come here to fall into that cesspool between your legs. I can feel my dick burning from here.”
She straightened defensively, jutting out her chin. “I’m sick of seeing your face. You look like the devil.”
“That’s an interesting comparison considering who you’re related to.”
“Why are you here? You have what you want, and when Ri—” she caught herself, “When Ace—”
“Are you still using that nickname for your own flesh and blood?” I quirked a brow.
“Well, I suppose since you decided a little inbreeding wouldn’t hurt anyone, that has a different meaning for you than it does me.”
“You’re a bastard,” she seethed.
“Ouch, how you wound me. And after all I’ve done for you…which brings me to why I’m back in this shithole. The only reason you have toilet paper to wipe your ass is thanks to me. The only reason this big estate has power and running water is because of me.”
She opened her mouth to speak. I held a hand up to silence her when a door slammed from out front. Making my way to the window, I peeked out and grinned at the white hospice van.
I turned back around and put a bullet in the door, barely missing Lucille’s wrist. She jumped back, hand flying to her throat.
“That was stupid. You know I’d love to see you on the floor asphyxiating on your own blood. You’re lucky Elena exists; she was the only reason I extended a morsel of generosity to you and that sloppy drunk of a bum you have for a son.”
“Was?” Her dark eyes slanted inward as she honed in on my choice of words, panic beginning to take hold. Not for her granddaughter, but herself.
“Do you know what happens when dogs bite the hand that feeds them?” I asked, hearing the front door open and close. “They get put down,” I answered just as the men appeared in the doorway, greeting me with respectable head nods.
“What is this? What have you done now?” she bellowed as she was restrained.
“I’m just carrying out the threat you stupidly placed on the table. I had a friend who knew a friend, and turns out, Springbrooks is always open for new residents.”
“No! No, you can’t do this!” she screamed at me as my intentions became clear.
Her continued resistance and refusal to comply resulted in her body being forced to the ground.
“Get off me!” Her arms thrashed as she tried to fight off the completely unfazed personnel. They couldn’t care less about her; they were on an old money payroll.
I was almost disappointed I didn’t have the foresight to take a snapshot of the look on her face, but the pleasure of watching Lucille Rias lose her goddamn mind made up for it.
A syringe was injected in the side of her neck, quickly turning her docile. I slipped my gun away and approached, crouching down to where she lay on the floor.
“Sir,” one of the men began to warn, thinking better of it when I shot him a look.
I focused back on Lucielle, patting the top of her mussed up hair. “There’s no reason to be so dramatic. It’s an excellent psychiatric hospital that I’m sure will take great care of you.”
“Bastard. You won’t get away this,” she rasped.
“What am I, a cartoon villain? I already have gotten away with it. No one will be coming for you unless they want to end up in your position.”
“Why not just kill me?” she demanded.
“Well, because, this is more gratifying.”
She made a sound in her throat and hawked a loogie right on the end of my shoe. I frowned down at the green glob in annoyance and disgust.
“Was there really a need to do that?” With a sigh, I stood up, wiping the mucus on her face, smearing it across her lips and cheek.
“Take her. Put her in the farthest, darkest corner you have,” I ordered, slipping past them.
With the stabilizer kicking in, she could do nothing more than obediently follow as they led her away.
Across the hall, Elias and Sergio watched on in amusement.
“Is he in there?” I asked as I approached them.
“Slept through the whole thing,” Elias laughed, nudging the door open.
“What the fuck is wrong with these people?” I mused aloud, staring in at Samuel’s bare drunken ass.
“Let’s get this over with.” I shook my head and entered the room with them right behind me.
Chapter Seven
Obsession.
It’s the domination of one’s thoughts and feelings, a compulsive fixation beyond control.
Obsession was Elena fucking Rias, the gorgeous catatonic girl currently sleeping in my bed.
She’d left the light in the bathroom on, a pet peeve of mine.
I didn’t bother turning it off, taking the time to study her.
When I’d first come face to face with her, she was half submerged in a tub of bloody water, barely lucid.
Even precariously hanging onto life, she’d been beautiful. The older she got, the more breathtaking she grew. The longer I watched over her, the stronger the obsession became.
I would walk through hell to ensure nothing took her away from me. Seeing her in my bed made that possession churn beneath the surface like a bitter storm.
Her supple body was covered by nothing but an ivory robe, her long hair fanning out behind her. Elena had a natural hourglass figure and a beautiful face. My perfect rainha hispânica.
Part of the silken fabric had shifted and exposed her plump tit and areola; the back of the robe had risen up, giving me a slight view of her peach shaped ass.
My dick turned to iron.
I walked around with a constant hard on because of this woman.
All she had to do was curve her pouty lips into a smile and I wanted to wreck her pussy and hear my name screamed from her mouth.
I removed my shoes and slightly blood-stained clothes before climbing onto the bed, ass naked. The second my hands gripped her soft thighs, she stirred. I rolled her onto her back, hearing a barely audible gasp as she woke up to me settling between her legs.
“Mateo?” she asked in a soft, drowsy voice. She blinked a few times, reaching a hand up to cup the side of my face. She smelled of cherry blossoms—my new favorite scent.
“Who else would it be? No other man will ever be climbing into bed with you again.”
She made an annoyed sound in her throat, causing me to grin.
“I’ve never been in a bed with a man until you. Not for sleeping or fucking.” All signs of sleepiness vanished with her snappy reply.
I froze, staring down at her sweet, angry face. That gave me visuals I didn’t ever need to see. I knew she wasn’t the Virgin Mary when we met; after all, she let me fuck her over the bathroom sink in a filthy public restroom. That unsurprisingly didn’t make me feel better.
“Are you trying to piss me off, anjo?”
“No Patrón,” she purred, playfully shifting her hips. “I was dreaming of you. Can you tell?”
Her dainty little hand slipped between us and she took a firm hold of my cock, eliciting a hiss as she guided the head to her pussy and rubbed it up and down her wet slit.
Not one to be teased, I removed her hand and pushed my dick between her lips, slowly sinking into her warm, tight cunt. Her soft moan had me r
eady to come right then, but I considered myself a gentleman in the bedroom.
She needed to come at least twice before I could.
“I want the deal. I want answers.” Her hands latched behind the back of my neck. “I want to play. And I want you.” She leaned up, kissing the side of my face. “Fuck me, hard,” she demanded in a sultry tone. Her eyes locked with mine as she slipped free of her robe. There was no embarrassment or shame to be found.
I knew she was going to take the deal before I even pretended I’d just thought of it. It was the illusion of choice she needed. I pushed deeper, making her feel a tiny bit of pain, her walls constricting around me and her back slightly arching.
“Mateo,” she pleaded, trying to pull me in. Like a junkie chasing a high, she craved what I gave her, always hungry for more.
“If you beg nicely, you can have what you so badly need.”
Even in the dark, I could see the heat in her cheeks, but she didn’t disappoint.
“Please...Mateo. Please fuck me. Give me you.” She continued to beg, plead, and call for me until she wasgot swept away by the pleasure I gave her.
“Meu,” I harshly affirmed, nearly growling like an animal. I certainly fucked her like one, slamming my hips forward a little bit harder with each thrust. She did this to me, turned me into a beast that needed to stake a claim over and over again.
It drove me fucking insane and gave me clarity all at once. Her nails left trackmarks down my back. By the way her pussy was clenching my dick in a chokehold, I knew she was feeling every bit of me.
I made sure I set a standard unobtainable by any other man every time I had my dick inside her. She loved when I fucked her like this. She was so goddamn aroused, a squelching sound intermingled with her screams of pleasure and the slapping of our skin.
“I need you to say it,” I demanded, removing her hands from my shoulders where they’d dug in, pinning them above her head.
I didn’t for one second stop fucking her. I knew she was close; I wanted her to come so I could empty every drop of myself buried inside her, but not until I got what I wanted.
“You first,” she breathed, trying to break free of my hold.
I slowed and began rotating my hips, burying myself to the hilt with each thrust. Her face screwed up in frustration as I brought her to the edge and then started over again until she gave in.
“Yours, Mateo. All yours,” she half-moaned, half-sobbed, wrapping her legs around my waist when I began to move how she wanted again.
I lurched down, kissing her savagely. She took it as good as I gave it; it almost felt like she was fighting me.
Letting her wrists go, I grabbed one leg and hooked it over my forearm. Her hands found their way to my hair, weaving through it.
Her pussy contracted as an ograsm tore through her, and I bit down on her tongue until I tasted blood, causing her entire body to shudder.
I continued to fuck her until a fine sheen of sweat was on both of our bodies and my seed was spilling into her sore cunt. I slowly pulled out but stayed between her legs, looking down at her.
Her lips were swollen from my kisses and slightly parted as she caught her breath.
“Minha Beleza,” I said softly, letting the affection, the deep-rooted need I had for her, carry through in those two words.
I’d heard her say she was mine, but that wasn’t enough.
The ring wouldn’t be enough.
My head was so fucked up with the need to consume her entire being, I often wondered if it would be easier to take my frustrations out on pieces of her flesh until there was nothing left.
But the idea of not having her was worse.
I wanted to brandish myself into her flesh so she’d never forget who it was that she belonged to. At my words, a look settled into her eyes that had my dick hardening all over again.
I wanted to tell her all that was going to happen, about the dirtiest parts of the world she would soon find herself a part of, but words would never do.
She needed to experience it.
All of it.
Old money roulette was a game without an end. Survival of the richest and the corrupt. It was a gateway to an elite life. I’d been a participant for seventeen years. Day in and day out, I calculated, manipulated, and decimated to get what I wanted.
She wanted answers; this was how she would get them.
The truth would be a double-edged sword that would push her over an edge she couldn’t come back from unless she walked a path of destruction to get there.
I was going to lead her, forcing her to become the woman I knew she could be. The queen of diamonds to my king of hearts.
Sooner than later, she would know everything she needed to.
Chapter Eight
Addiction.
An impulse that, once indulged, is impossible to pacify.
Mateo motherfucking Remmington was the epitome of an addiction—mine specifically.
I was a self-professed addict always looking for my next hit.
I woke alone, my body still feeling everything we’d done a few hours before the sun rose.
There wasn’t a single second of it I regretted. Not when it felt that right.
Even knowing what this day meant.
The beginning of everything.
I refused to wallow in self pity or cry to the walls in hopes they weren’t listening. I got out of bed and took a hot shower.
Once I was done, I entered the massive thing he called a closet. It was about the same size as my old bathroom—and that was by no means small. The island in the center had cubbies full of heels I’d have to learn to walk in. Handbags lined the upper portion of one wall.
His wardrobe was full of the best fabrics sewn in all the latest fashions, and expensive shoes.
It didn’t escape my attention that every single item, down to a strand of diamond pearls I didn’t dare smudge with my touch, was color coordinated.
Bypassing a wall-to-floor length mirror, I went to find something to wear.
Dolce and Gabanna.
Gucci.
Versace.
Dior.
He’d unnecessarily replaced my entire wardrobe with enough name brand clothes to pay someone’s mortgage for a year.
I slipped on a red party dress and put some lipstick on, did my hair in a chic ponytail, and threw on some low heels. I went as far as adding a diamond necklace over the jagged heart pendant I had yet to take off.
If this was to be my life, why not enjoy the perks?
Making my way down the stairs, dead cellphone in hand, I passed Alfredo and gave him a small smile. The man hardly spoke, but was polite enough to indulge me with a nod.
The large house was silent, and my search for Mateo was uneventful. His office was my first stop, but the doors were shut tight.
The dining room was empty, as was the casual living area, which was where, eventually, he found me.
I was staring out the window when he came up and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I need a cell charger and my Prozac, neither were with my things.” I was eager to see if Peyton had figured out what was in the book, not to mention he was probably worried as hell about me, and my SSRI’s kept me balanced. Now was not the time to see how well I could cope without them.
“You’ll have both the minute we get home.” He plucked my dead cell from my hands and slipped it into his pocket.
“You smell so good,” he murmured, nipping at me.
“So do you.” I angled my neck as he suckled the sting away so he could do it again.
His hair was still damp from his shower. He was slightly dressed down, wearing a simple black button up with the sleeves rolled back, matching slacks, sans tie.
He turned me around and pressed me into the glass, sliding his hands from my hips to my chest, cupping my breasts.
“You feel good,” he said in his natural tone, pulling the front of the dress down, my tits bounced in the lacy cups of my bra. His solid cock pressed i
nto my apex.
And just like that, we were ready for each other.
He was insatiable, and I was greedy.
It would never be enough.
It wasn’t even just about the sex it was him. It was us. We were a complicated mess both craving the same thing.
Sex, money, power. Each other.
With no warning, he spun me back around.
“Put your hands on the glass and arch your back.”
I did my best impression of how I thought it should look.
“Good girl,” he praised, lifting my dress up around my waist. My underwear was pulled to the side, the head of his cock rubbing against my slit in their place.
“This is going to be rough,” he warned, spreading my legs a little further and slamming inside me. My body radiated with a mixture of pain and pleasure, slowly giving me the high I kept chasing. I was becoming more and more conditioned to what Mateo did to me.
He applied a firm grip on my hip that would probably leave a minor bruise.
If anyone were to see the marks he left behind, they would assume the worst, never considering our brand of fucking was built on the pleasure in pain. His other hand was knotted in my hair, tilting my head back to the point it became difficult to swallow.
Just like he said, it was rough, fast. Every bit of a quickie. Thrusting, hair pulling, and biting. The window fogged from my breath, and my palms began to sweat, causing my hands to slip on the glass. He rode me hard, bringing me to climax twice before finding his own.
It was as he was readjusting my dress that I realized I’d forgotten about his staff. He had Alfredo, guards, and lawn care maintenance always milling about.
“What if someone saw us?” I asked, looking around for something to wipe myself off with.
“Elena, all they would have seen was me owning your pussy.” he replied cockily.
I huffed out a breath, doing my best to fix my ponytail.
“I need to clean up.”
“Leave it. I like knowing your cunt is full of my come.”
Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy Page 15
