Shrugging beneath his black suit, Roman said, “What can I say? I don’t like the thought of anyone else leering at you.”
“Only you, right?” I asked. “Well, you and Carter.”
Roman’s mouth thinned into a line, and he said nothing. Hopefully he picked up on my attitude, realized I was not happy at all.
I took a step closer to him, my nose picking up on his scent: musky, manly… the very definition of sex on two legs. A part of me wanted Roman to take me by the throat, push me backward, into the backroom, and tell me how it was going to be.
But that wasn’t what tonight was about. Tonight was me giving both Roman and Carter the metaphorical middle finger.
“Tell me something,” I purred, slowly reaching a hand out to touch the satin tie hanging around Roman’s neck. The man himself hardly blinked, though I did notice Carter shifting his weight, leaning closer to the both of us, probably ready to rip me off him if Roman should give the word. “Why me?”
Buying the Dollhouse, forcing Autumn to only give me two days a week—it just felt like too much. Why?
He grabbed my wrist, slowly pulling my hand off his tie, though he did not let go. His fingers wrapped around me hard, rough, and with the motion, I could see the muscles on his wrist straining under his sleeve. “Because,” Roman whispered back, his eyes two black, soulless pits, “you’re mine.”
My heart skipped a beat at that. Such finality in his words, like anything I could do after this was only fighting the inevitable. Me and him. Him and I. Together. Like it was written in the stars before we’d even met: I would belong to him in every possible way. Heart, mind, soul, and body.
Especially that last one.
Though a huge part of me wanted to find the nearest place to sit my ass down and spread my legs for him, I yanked my hand out of his grasp. On the stage, the woman was about done; her song was over, and she was bending over, picking up the tips that had been thrown at her while she was dancing.
“I actually don’t belong to anyone,” I said, seconds from showing him exactly that.
I passed the woman walking off the stage—I forget her name. I think it might be Candy or something—and Carter made a move to stop me, but Roman held up a hand, freezing him where he stood. Roman wore a scowl, but he wasn’t stopping me.
Well, this should be fun, right?
Chapter Six – Roman
A glimmer in her gaze told me Zoey felt extra defiant tonight, and though the last thing I wanted her to do was anything that would draw eyes to her, I let her go. I might make her regret her decision to do whatever it was she planned on doing, but that would be later.
This dance, this hunt… I found I enjoyed it. Zoey had become the bright light in my life. When I did jobs, when I tasted metal in the air, when I cleaned my guns—my mind always found a way to go back to her.
I would be the first to admit that my fascination with her was not rooted in anything sane. When you did what I did, when you saw what I saw on an almost daily basis, sanity was the farthest thing from your mind. Me? I’d long since learned to revel in the insanity, to accept it like a long-lost friend, back after a lifetime apart.
Zoey truly had no idea who she threatened to rile up, but she would learn. This, me buying the Dollhouse, me telling Autumn when to schedule her, it was all the lead up to something else, something I had never done before.
Everything had always been under the Dollhouse’s roof. Carter and the girls. Lately, though, I’d been having thoughts. What if I wanted more?
I turned, watching as Zoey walked up the stage. Annoyance ticked through me; how dare that girl think she could waltz onto that stage and put on a show as if she was just another worker at this shithole? I meant what I said when I said Zoey was mine; the girl would see it eventually and know everything she did would be under my supervision.
“What the fuck is she doing?” Carter asked, watching as she sauntered up to the pole. The lights dimmed over her, a new song playing as she started to dance.
And by dance, I really meant dance. Not strip, like some of these women did. The pole was only a backdrop to her movements; the way she moved her hips, running her hands up and down her body… she didn’t need the pole. She was a goddess on the stage, her pink hair matching her shoes, and even though the dance was not like anything the other girls did here, the men sitting around the stage were still drooling over her like she was a tall glass of cool water and they’d just walked ten miles in the desert.
Her hand gripped the pole, and she twirled herself around it once; probably only to lay her eyes on me, to see my reaction. It was somewhere between a scowl and a sneer. The former was towards her and her little dance, while the sneer was for the men in the audience. There weren’t many. There would’ve been a lot more if tonight was a Friday night, but that did not soothe the anger I felt rising inside.
This girl… she tempted my patience, pulled it taut and threatened to snap it completely.
Men started to toss bills onto the stage as she dipped down to her knees, practically crawling toward them, though she never dropped off the stage. Zoey ran her hands through her hair, arching her back as she bent backward, showing off just how flexible she was, the side with her tattoo proudly on display to any and all.
I felt my blood boil in my veins, and I glanced at Carter. It took everything in me to not reach inside the back of my suit and pull out the nine-millimeter I had hidden, not to shove it in the mouths of every man who dared to look upon her with lust in their gaze. I was not above drenching the walls in the Dollhouse with blood—at least then everyone would know Zoey was mine.
Well, they’d be dead, but right now that was preferable to how they ate her up as she danced and put her body on display for them.
Fuck that shit. The only one that body would be on display for was me; this would be her one and only time on that fucking stage, whether she knew it or not. I would not allow her to do this again.
I debated on telling Carter to go up on that stage and drag her ass off it, but I held back, somehow. I moved to the base of the steps in the back of the stage, watching the show from behind for the last minute of it, and Carter stood at my side, shaking his head.
“She’s going to be a problem, boss. I knew it from the beginning,” he said.
“I don’t fucking care,” I hissed, shooting him a look that could kill. “I want her, so I’m taking her.” My stare returned to Zoey on the stage, watching as she stood straight, no longer rocking those hips or showing anything off. “By the end of tonight, she’ll realize it.”
When her dance was finished, she spun on those hideous sneakers and turned to where we were, about to walk off the stage but freezing the moment she spotted us. Zoey didn’t even take a moment to collect her money; why would she when she knew I’d be waiting for her?
“Bring her,” I demanded, and Carter obliged by grabbing her upper arm and practically dragging her into the backroom. The moment the door shut behind us, he had her moved to the couch, where she chose to sit indignantly.
I felt like pacing, but I refused to show her how her little dance had affected me. The only thing I’d show her right now was how angry I was.
Carter remained near the couch, which was probably why Zoey made no moves in getting up. She did, however, ask, “How did you like my dance?” Each and every word dripped acid, as if she was trying purposefully to rile me up.
And it was working. I wanted to take her by the throat and make her scream my name, make her beg me to stop, make her apologize for putting on that ridiculous show, all to spite me.
I decided to tell her the truth: “I fucking hated it.”
The corners of her lips quirked into a grin. “And why did you hate it?”
“Because,” I growled out, flexing my hands into fists at my sides—something which Zoey immediately noticed, and her cheeks flushed. “Like I said before, you’re mine.”
She lifted her head, holding her nose in the air as if she was better than me,
better than Carter and any fool in the Dollhouse. And maybe she was, but I would show her just how easy it was to corrupt, and how much fun it could be. “You don’t own me, Roman Russo.”
I smirked, though it was more like a baring of my teeth than anything else. “Don’t I?”
The way she glared at me, I knew she wanted me to prove it, to show her, without a doubt, that I did indeed own her.
I took a step back, but I did not sit myself in my usual seat. Instead, I gestured to Carter. “Get her up. Hold her arms back.” Not once did I lose eye contact with Zoey as Carter forced her to her feet, pulled her to stand between us, and held both her arms behind her back, gripping her by the wrists.
Oh, I planned on showing her just how much she belonged to me.
Zoey struggled a bit, her tits shaking with her feistiness. I let my stare drop to her chest, and I refrained from drawing my hands all over her as I stepped closer, as near as I could be without touching her. Her breath was hot on my skin, and I knew she could feel when I exhaled, too.
“You,” I murmured, pausing, letting the lone word sink in as I locked eyes with her. Deep within their light azure depths, I could see the desire she tried so desperately to fight, to hide from me. “You are mine in every way, Zoey Marbella.”
With that, I lifted a hand, drawing the backs of my fingers along her cheek, taking in her soft skin. Her breathing hitched, and I knew without a doubt I had her. All I had to do was get her to admit it to herself, to say the words out loud: I belong to you. Once she said those words, we could move on from this.
My hand dropped to her collarbone, drawing along it before lightly dancing across the space between her tits. When my hand fell below the fabric that kept them covered, I hooked my fingers up, catching it and pulling its black cotton up and over her tits, exposing them to me. I placed my palm between them, my fingers extending, pressing hard against the curves of her breasts.
“The heart beating in your chest,” I hissed down at her, feeling it start to speed up under my touch, “is all mine.” Watching her try to fight what she felt inside, I couldn’t help but smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked getting on that stage and putting on a show. I have no issues with you doing that—but only when it’s my stage, and only when I’m the audience.”
Behind Zoey, Carter glowered, but I kept him out of this. That man knew I’d never toss him aside. Wherever I was, he would be by my side, and that included any shows by Zoey herself. Carter might not feel the same way I did about her, but he would. He had to. I’d taught him too much for there to be such a difference between our bodily desires.
The hand between her tits moved down, over her flat stomach, over the bits of her tattoo that curled around her body, stopping only when I grazed the matching black underwear covering her ass and her cunt. I let my hand slip beneath it, my fingers curling against her body. The very second my fingers touched her clit, she sighed out a breath, her nipples hard for all to see. Carter kept a good hold of her; he would not let her go until I told him to.
Her eyes shut when I dipped lower, feeling the wetness seeping around her pussy.
“This,” I breathed out, using my other hand to cup the bottom of her jaw, forcing her to open those eyes and look upon me, “is mine.”
Zoey whimpered when I pressed a finger against her entrance, but I did not go in.
“The sooner you realize it, the more enjoyable it will be for you, I can imagine,” I said, starting to rub her between her legs, drawing some of her wetness up to her clit.
She could not speak, apparently, nor could she do much other than tremble in what I knew was pleasure of the highest degree. She did not struggle against Carter; Zoey simply stood there and took it, my hand between her legs at her apex, her tits exposed and heaving with uneven breaths.
Fuck, she really was something else, even with that ridiculous pink hair.
I watched her as I rubbed her, pinching her clit, circling it, applying pressure to it as I gauged her reactions to how I touched her, learning what she liked and what brought about the most trembling out of her. My fingers picked up speed, and I could feel her hips begin to rock along my hand—though I could tell she was doing her best to keep her body in check.
No. I wanted to see her let loose, to release the inner wildling inside and let her animal free. I knew it was in there, knew her inner beast waited impatiently to be let out, for its cage to be unlocked forever. I was more than happy to be the guiding force that helped let it free.
“Say it,” I whispered, feeling my own cock press against my pants as I rubbed her. How could I not get hard at touching this beautiful specimen? How could I not have an ache in my balls when I felt that slick wetness between her thighs, knowing it was all mine? “Tell me that you’re mine, and I’ll let you have your release.” My rubbing slowed right when she started to pant and rock her hips harder.
Oh, I’d say she was close to an orgasm. Very close. It would not be an orgasm she had unless she came to her senses and declared she was mine. I’d make her give Carter his release, make her help me reach mine—but she would never have hers.
Did that make me a cruel master? Perhaps, but I was never one for caring about whether or not I was cruel. Cruelty was human nature.
I withdrew my hand, feeling her slick on my fingers. “Tell me you’re mine, and I will give you anything and everything you want. I could make your dreams come true, or I could be the nightmare you see every time you close your eyes. Make your choice, Zoey.”
Her eyes opened into slits, and I ran a thumb over her mouth, watching as her lips parted slowly. I waited on what she would say with bated breath, itching to get my other hand back between her legs, to feel those hips grinding against me, edging herself to her own orgasm. “Fuck,” she murmured, “how’s a girl supposed to respond to that?”
A chuckle left me. “A girl is supposed to be thankful, and to take the opportunity when it arises.” I slid my hand into her panties again, hearing her moan softly as I did so. “It’s not something I offer to everyone.”
It wasn’t something I offered to anyone before her, but she did not need to know that. All Zoey needed to know was that my offer was good, and that I was a man of my word. I needed this girl to be mine.
“Just say the words, and everything in your life will change,” I tempted her.
“I’m yours,” Zoey whispered, her words catching in her throat when I pushed a finger inside her, filling her up as my thumb put pressure on her clit. She had no choice in the matter. Sooner or later she would’ve been mine, anyway; better to become mine now and reap the benefits sooner.
I said nothing, though I did do what I promised her earlier: I helped her to her release, my finger fucking her while my thumb rubbed her. Carter held her arms behind her back, holding her steady, but still, when she came, her whole body shook. She would’ve fallen to the floor if Carter wasn’t holding her, I bet, with the sheer force of the orgasm. A world-shattering, heart-stopping orgasm if I ever witnessed one, judging from the cry that left her and the clamping of her pussy on my finger.
When she was stable, when she no longer rode the high of her orgasm, I pulled my finger out of her, taking a step back and dropping the hand that still held onto her jaw. I knew, without looking down, a huge erection pressed against my pants. Her gaze did drop to see it, but she said nothing about it.
I moved to my usual chair, collapsing in it as if I had the world’s weight on my shoulders. Carter still held onto her, her tits exposed, the place between her legs dripping wet now. I knew it then: I’d never get enough of her. Whatever drew me in like a moth to the flame where she was concerned would never fade.
“Get on your knees then, Zoey,” I told her. “Get on your knees and worship Carter’s cock like it’s mine.”
Carter released her, and she made no moves to pull the fabric bunched over her tits down. She left them hanging out as Carter moved to the side, standing beside her. Zoey turned toward him, sluggish in dra
wing her gaze away from me and bringing it up to Carter. This way, I’d be able to see his cock disappearing in her mouth, get to see the look on both their faces as she gave him head.
This time, I didn’t think I could simply watch. I think I needed to do more than sit here and stare.
Zoey and Carter stared at each other for a minute, her hands slow to move toward his belt. Just below sat a thick bulge, his erection plain for any and all to see. She did not break eye contact as she undid his belt, sinking to her knees like a good girl as she helped his length free. His cock stood, nearly hitting her on the cheek, an impressive sight, though she barely blinked as she gazed upon it. She probably remembered being speared by it not too long ago, feeling it inside her as she took charge while on the couch.
She liked taking charge, but based on this, on how she acted, she also liked taking orders just as much, if not more.
Her full lips parted, her tongue darting out and licking the tip of Carter’s cock like a piece of candy. Carter’s wide chest groaned, but he made no moves to grab her, to force that mouth to take his length in inch by thick inch. He knew I wanted her to do it, knew I wanted Zoey to fully commit and prove to me just how willing she was to be mine in every way.
Zoey took her time in opening that mouth wide enough to suck him off, and her head was slow to bob along his length. She knelt in front of him, her breasts heaving with every bob of her neck, doing exactly what I’d told her to do.
Finally, a good girl. I’d make sure she was rewarded for this.
Carter’s eyes shut, and he moaned, his hands turning to fists at his sides. I knew it was probably hard for him to stand there and let her do what she wanted to his cock, but I also knew he was dying inside, needing to erupt any moment now, especially after my little talk with her.
I ran a hand over my crotch, feeling my erection twitch under the fabric. I wanted nothing more than to pull it out, wrap a hand around it, and pump with wild abandon, but I knew the moment I did, my attention would be splintered. I would not be able to stroke myself and focus on Zoey and the way her mouth moved along Carter’s cock.
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