“You…dated her?” Megara asked.
The right side of Henrik’s lips kicked up into a teasing smile. “Not much of a dater.” He pressed his chest to her back, bringing his arms around her middle, and worked the button on her slacks open. Splaying his hands against her belly beneath her panties, he pushed them down. “Are you jealous?” he asked softly into her ear as her pants, mingling with her panties, fell around her ankles.
Her face heated again, but she would not rise to his bait.
“Are you jealous of the men who kissed me before you?” she asked in return. Not at all the same thing, but it was the only ammunition she carried.
“Since they’ll never touch you again, no. Let them have the vague memory of your taste. I own the rest now,” he said.
“As do I.” Megara raised her chin, firming her jaw.
He chuckled. “That you do.” He turned away and plucked the dress off the door. “Let’s get this on so she can do her magic.”
Megara took the dress from him and wiggled her way into it. It was a bit narrow in the waist, but she managed to get it on without tearing any of the delicate stitches.
“Can you zip it?” She lifted her hair from her neck and gave her back to Henrik. In one quick swoop, he had the zipper up.
“Kiersten.” He opened the door and called for her. “We’re ready.”
With another bright smile, Kiersten appeared in the door, measuring tools in hand.
“Will you do me a favor and bring that stool in for me? I need her to be raised up a bit.”
Henrik stepped out, and when he returned, he plunked down the stool in front of Megara and helped her up onto it.
“Do you think you’ll be wearing heels? It would probably be best if we had the shoes while we measure.”
“Do the best you can today. The rest you can do at the house when you bring the dress by.” Henrik waved a hand at her. Carefully picking up Megara’s clothing, he sank into the armchair and draped everything over his thighs while Kiersten went about poking and prodding with measuring tapes and pins.
“There!” Kiersten finally stepped away. “What do you think?”
Megara gingerly touched her fingertips to the silky fabric. “It’s perfect,” Megara said, then looked to Henrik. He tilted his head to the left.
“Yes,” Henrik said simply.
Kiersten clapped. “Excellent! Let’s get you out of this then.”
“I’ll do it.” Henrik stood up from the chair, moving Megara’s clothing to the arm. “Leave us for a bit.” He waved her off.
Kiersten’s smile dropped a fraction. “Of course. I’ll be in the back office if you need me.” She patted Megara’s arm, then left the dressing room again.
“Careful of the pins.” Megara turned her back to him. “I think maybe it’s too tight, maybe she should let it out a bit more.” She lifted her hair.
“Come down from there,” Henrik ordered.
She peeked over her shoulder at him. The same animalistic hunger she’d seen only the night before blossomed across his face.
“Henrik,” she tried to argue with him, “she’s just in the other room.”
“Do you remember the lesson about obedience? You don’t want to repeat that lesson here, do you?” he asked, stroking the leather belt around his waist. “Come down.”
Megara dropped her hair back around her shoulders and stepped off the stool. “There.”
“Turn around.” He twirled his finger in the air until her back was to him again. She rolled her eyes, but continued to obey his instructions. The last thing she wanted was for him to pull that belt off and give her a taste of it with Kiersten so close by.
Henrik carefully unzipped the dress and helped her step out of it. Megara folded her arms over her stomach as he placed the garment on the hanger and put it back on the hook.
When he turned back to her, his pupils completely dominated his eyes, and his cock was clearly outlined against the fabric of his slacks.
“Henrik…” she put her hand out as he stalked toward her, “we’re not at home,” she said, trying to reason with the unreasonable. He’d already moved away from being playful and was in firm domination mode. He would not be disobeyed, and he would not tolerate any hesitation from her.
A shiver of excitement ran up her back, sending sparks and tingles throughout all her nerve endings. He’d promised to make her scared, and the dark shadow over his arousal was working in his favor.
“Turn around, Megara.” He pointed to the armchair. “Hands flat on the cushion. Raise your ass high.” He grabbed his belt, quickly unbuckling it and yanking it from the loops. The quick zip of leather against fabric pierced her clit with arousal.
“She’ll hear,” Megara protested, stepping back until her legs hit the chair.
“Disobey and she’ll be invited to watch,” Henrik said casually. Megara studied his features. He wasn’t playing. He would call Kiersten back into the room to watch if she pushed him too far. No matter how light things had been earlier, he was still a stickler for control—still the one who dictated when and how she would be used.
If only her mind could get her body to understand it was a flaw of his, not an attribute.
Licking her lip and tucking it between her teeth, she pivoted until she faced the corner.
“Over. Now,” he said firmly.
“What did I do wrong?” she asked, a shiver in her voice.
“What makes you think you did something wrong?” He trailed his fingertips up her spine until he reached her hair. His big hand fisted her mane, and he shoved her head forward. Throwing her hands out, she caught herself on the cushion before her face hit the chair.
“Maybe it’s how you’re manhandling me,” she shot back at him.
A dark chuckle erupted from behind her.
“Sometimes I’m going to want to hurt you for the mere pleasure of seeing my marks on your ass before I take you,” he said, pressing himself into her ass. His hard cock, though still covered by his pants, pressed between her cheeks.
“She’s going to hear,” Megara protested again.
“Say that again, and I swear you’ll be the one inviting her in here.” His tone wet her arousal even more.
Something was seriously wrong with her. He’d gotten into her head and twisted her into a sexually starved creature.
Henrik’s hand remained planted in her hair, but he stepped to her side, letting the cool air of the room brush her naked backside. It wouldn’t be chilled for long.
Without any delay, he brought the belt down hard against her ass cheeks. She clamped her mouth shut and kept her cry buried inside her chest. Another stroke, and she curled her fingertips, but kept quiet. Another, then another, sent lines of fire crisscrossing over her cheeks.
“I’m not stopping until I hear you.” He brought the thick leather strap over her thighs, then her ass, one cheek, then the next, before going back to her thighs. She had no time to recover before another landed.
She wrapped her hand over her mouth, wincing with each new white-hot lash, but continued to keep quiet.
Again, the belt crashed over her thighs, and the burst of pain caught her off guard.
“Henrik!” she cried out, giving him what he wanted, only to be rewarded with a dark chuckle and another lash of his belt.
“That’s a good girl,” he soothed with his voice as he dropped the belt on the chair in front of her face. His warm fingers kneaded into her ass cheeks. “Such a sweet red glow. Fuck, I love your ass, Megara.”
One finger dipped between her ass cheeks and pressed against the tight ring of her asshole.
“Once you’re pregnant, I’m going to fuck your ass just as much as I fuck your cunt,” he said, pushing harder, until the very tip of his finger burst past the puckered muscle.
She whimpered and leaned forward, trying to get away from the fresh burn.
He laughed. “Where are you going? I have you by your hair, and you’re in the corner.” He twisted his finger, se
nding electricity into her body.
“But we don’t have time for experiments today.” He yanked his finger out, and Megara heaved a heavy sigh of relief.
Keeping his hand in her hair, he maneuvered himself behind her. A quick unzip and ruffling of material, and his cock thrust into her wet, wanting pussy.
“Fuck.” She bucked forward, moving her hand to the back of the chair to keep from face-planting into the seat.
He tugged her hair until her head was pulled back far enough she could see his reflection in the mirror.
“Watch, Megara. Watch me fuck you, and always remember I’ll take you whenever and wherever I choose.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and plowed into her, filling her and stretching her with the most delightful pain she’d felt yet.
She met his gaze in the mirror and locked on him.
“Harder, Henrik,” she whispered, and his lips spread into a wide, knowing grin.
“You sure?” he asked, thrusting forward.
“Yes. Make it hurt.” She curled her fingers around the arms of the chair and braced herself.
“Lift your leg,” he directed, and she propped her foot up on the stool he kicked her way. “Oh fucking hell.” He growled and pulled his hand out of her hair to grip her hips. He yanked her back at him while he thrust forward, filling her instantly over and over again.
Her breasts swayed with the movements.
“Play with your clit, Megara. Fucking play with what’s mine.” He smacked her hip even when she instantly obeyed.
Her pussy dripped with arousal. Gathering some of it in her fingers, she began to rub her clit harder and harder, matching his rhythm. She wasn’t going to last long like this, her pussy clenched around him.
“That’s right. Come for me. Don’t hold back.” The warning was clear. If she held back her voice, he’d make her pay.
It didn’t matter anyway. The moment he reached forward and flicked his finger over her nipple, her entire body shattered into a million and three pieces. The intense invasion of pleasure and painful ripples shredded her control. She screamed out his name over and over again, until her body finally subsided and her mind could grasp the present once again.
“Fuck yes.” His fingernails dug into her hips as he pulled her back against him. One thrust, then another. On the third, he stilled, growling like a beast chasing the devil from hell as his own release overtook him.
Megara’s arms ached. She moved down to her elbows, still trying to catch her breath, when Henrik pulled free of her body and stepped back. His cum dripped from her, sliding down her leg, but she was too caught up in trying to breathe again to wipe it away.
“Shit.” He touched her ass. “Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice.
She pushed up to her feet. “Not anymore than I wanted.” She smiled and turned to face him. Her eyes were drawn to his cock still protruding from his pants, blood tainting the head and shaft.
“Are you sure?”
Mental calculations flew through her mind. “I’m fine, Henrik,” she assured him. “I must have just gotten my period.” She picked up her purse from the floor and dug out the small package of tissue. “Here.” She handed him a few pieces and took several for herself.
Turning away from him, she finished cleaning up and dressed. There was no garbage pail in the dressing room, so she tucked the messed tissues into her purse.
“Here.” She held out her empty hand to take his, but he tucked it into his own pocket.
“Henrik?” she asked when his frown didn’t dissipate.
“I have a meeting. We need to get back to the house. I might not be home for dinner, so you’ll have to deal with Hera and my father on your own.” He buckled his belt.
Another cool current of air washed over her, but it wasn’t from the air conditioning.
He yanked the door open and gestured for her to follow him before stalking out. The front door of the shop opened and closed before she managed to get her feet moving.
25
Henrik stood at the window of his office, overlooking the gardens. It had been ages since he’d found anything interesting outside that particular window.
“What’s so appealing out there?” Jackson’s voice boomed from behind him. His father pushed the sheer curtains aside to peer out beside his son. “Ahhh…your pretty wife.” He laughed, smacked Henrik’s back, and dropped the curtain back in place.
Megara crouched in front of a rose bush, pulling weeds from the soil. A smear of dirt covered her right cheek. They had gardeners for such a thing, she didn’t need to dirty her hands, but the peaceful calm he recognized in her kept him from stopping her.
“How are things going with your little wife?” Jackson asked, pulling Henrik from the window.
“Fine.” He stalked to his desk.
“Broken her in yet?” Jackson laughed.
Henrik pushed down the rolling anger and turned the topic away from Megara. As far as he knew, she was doing well enough. They hadn’t spoken much since their shopping excursion. Though, not for her lack of trying. At first, anyway.
He was being a cold ass, and he knew it. Just because she hadn’t conceived right away didn’t mean anything. They’d keep trying, and before long, she’d be swollen with his child.
“Christian Creon sent his nephews here the other day to ask me to let the McKinnly leftovers loose so he could hire them himself,” Henrik informed his father. “Not something I usually bring to you, but seeing as you seem overly interested in the Creon support, I thought you should know.”
“Yes.” Jackson cleared his throat. “Christian is due to arrive any minute. That’s what I came in to talk to you about. I heard about the request, and while I understand your concern, we do owe them a debt.”
“A debt? Of what?
“Well, the nephews. They are looking for retribution for the loss of their sister.”
Henrik’s chest clamped. “Henrietta was a conniving bitch who betrayed her family. Christian himself was glad to see her gone. Why do they hold her death over your head like this?”
“There’s unrest along the southern border. Haden is stronger than ever in his little fucking area, and he’s spoon-feeding misery into the ears of the families down there. Tristan and Marco have friends along that border. They can easily persuade them to go against me if they wish.”
“Go against you? You own and control the majority of the Network. You could crush them with one word!” Henrik’s head throbbed. The fucking Creons should not hold so much power.
“Yes. But if they want to change that, it would only take gaining the support of the families who work closely with Haden.” Jackson wiped his hand down the length of his weary face.
“Christian Creon is here,” Oliver announced from the doorway.
Henrik turned away from his father, walking back to the window. Megara sat with her legs crossed, staring up at the rose bush. What was she thinking? Where were her thoughts at the moment?
“Send him in,” Jackson ordered, then cleared his throat again. “We will hear him out. Your marriage to his daughter was payment enough for Henrietta.”
Henrik nodded, but kept his voice to himself. The vultures would continue to peck at the dead subject until they picked every bit of flesh from it. And with Haden’s hunger for the north, they would have plenty to chomp on.
Where was Castor in all this? Why hadn’t he given Henrik more warning? He’d been right in front of him, lecturing him on Jackson’s immoral behaviors—his selling of women, using them for his own profits and power—but he never once mentioned the danger of Haden marching north?
“Jackson.” Christian entered the room with his hand outstretched. Arrogance dripped from the saccharine smile he pushed on his lips as he greeted Jackson, then turned to Henrik. “Henrik. Good to see you again.” He clasped Henrik’s shoulder as he shook his hand.
Henrik tightened his grip a fraction more, waiting until the discomfort reached Christian’s eyes before letting him go.
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“Yes. I thought for sure I’d see you, or your wife, roaming my halls before now. Seeing as your daughter lives here now.” Henrik turned his back on Christian and went to his chair, taking the seat behind the desk. Jackson frowned, but moved to a chair facing Henrik without complaint.
“Maria has been visiting friends, and I’ve been busy with work. I’m sure Megara understands.” Christian waved a hand and unbuttoned his suit jacket before plopping his ass into the chair.
Henrik pressed his fingertips into his knees. Maybe Megara didn’t care. She hadn’t mentioned it, but seeing how much she’d doted on Christian the first night Henrik had met her, he couldn’t see how she wouldn’t care about being abandoned by both parents. Forced to marry a monster, then left to be devoured.
“I’m glad you were able to meet with me today.” Christian turned his attention to Jackson. “I know you’re quite busy, and with the celebration only a few days away, I wanted to straighten out the issue with Tristan and Marco.”
“I don’t control Henrik’s crews. I’m sure McKinnly left plenty of men behind to scavenge from,” Jackson said.
“Assurances were made about what was left of Matthews’ crews.” Christian’s voice hardened.
“I simply said they were easy pickings. I didn’t go looking for them, they found me. And it had been over a month since the McKinnly family had been dismantled.” Henrik kept his voice stone cold.
“It seems to me you had a full crew even before taking over what little territory McKinnly had. What would having these two men in particular do for you? Are you sending them down south maybe?” Jackson accused.
Henrik looked back out the window. Megara had gotten up from the rose bush and was now carrying her pile of weeds away.
“How can you insult me so easily?” Christian stood from his chair, his face taking on an angry blush.
“He’s not insulting you. He’s asking you where your loyalty lies right now.” Henrik pushed off his chair. “Do you stand with him, or are your nephews planning to ask Haden for help in getting revenge for their sister?”
Christian sputtered briefly before getting a grip on his temper and letting out a long breath. “They are simply concerned for their future. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Finding His Strength: The Dirty Heroes Collection Page 17
