Trophy: Part One

by SE Chardou

  “How great my brains tasted with just a little butter, garlic and a nice cabernet sauvignon he’d picked up at a street market in Versailles.”

  “Is it a reoccurring nightmare?”

  Her gorgeous hazel eyes wandered from that exposed male part of him up to his face. “Unfortunately . . . but you must know I would rather dream about much more fulfilling pleasures of the flesh.”

  Dorian leaned over her and kissed her mouth before he pulled away slowly. “Then let me help you on your way to making every dream you’d love to have a reality.”

  He’d bewitched me.

  When had he sunk beneath my flesh and allowed me to forgive his transgressions when I could never imagine doing it for anyone else?

  I wasn’t in love but the lust factor was high and the adrenaline it had pumping through my veins was an aphrodisiac itself. As much as I hated myself for wanting to get to know this man, I did. I despised myself even more knowing that we were entering a shared conspiracy that would have actions beyond ourselves but like an alcoholic after their first drink for the evening, I couldn’t help myself.

  Dorian was my drug of choice and just one hit was all I’d needed to become hooked.

  Those three weeks without him were torture. Filled with sleepless nights I would dream about his cock and what I would have liked him to do to me. Everything about him was so fucking cerebral that my brain didn’t seem to function unless he was part of my thoughts.

  It was frightening and exciting at the same time because I’d never been dependent on anyone except for reasons of self-preservation but I didn’t fear him, not even knowing he knew my deepest, darkest secret.

  The moment he unzipped his jeans and I glimpsed his perfectly large cock surrounded by closely shaved pubic hair, all I wanted him to do was take me. Yes, I would love for us to fuck looking at one another but that all left my mind the moment that beautiful male organ was displayed before me. I was lust sick/love drunk on the feeling of him being inside me and once would never be enough.

  “Tell me you want me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  I looked into his blazing blue eyes and replied, “I want you. I don’t care what happened between you and that stupid little twit earlier but I have to have you. Here. Now.”

  Dorian smiled and leaned over me again. His hands gripped my wrists as he devoured me in a kiss this time filled with tongue, teeth and every other part of our mouths. It was soul-draining and completely life-fulfilling in its intensity. He made me feel like I was a goddess and he was a god—that we were meant to be together whether I wanted to accept the inevitable or not.

  That kind of fantasy was overwhelming in its intentions and something that I wouldn’t forget any time soon. Perhaps one day, I would understand why my mother stayed with my father, even though she knew he would kill her. If anyone could help me come to terms with such a traumatic event, I knew it would be the man hovering over me who refused for me to bear the weight of his body.

  I turned us over in a maneuver that proved I was stronger than I gave myself credit for and kissed the side of his face, the feeling of his five o’clock shadow rough against my soft lips before I whispered in his ear, “Fuck me.”

  Dorian let go of my wrists and slid the top of my dress down, baring my breasts before he leaned up devoured a nipple in that wet, warm mouth of his. I threw my head back in ecstasy as he switched nipples and did the same to the other while twirling the other between seductive fingers that lit my whole body on fire.

  “Don’t worry, I will fuck you but first, let me take in all that is you. I never got to appreciate the overwhelming beauty of your body the first time around. I was like a school boy who’d never had sex before and this time, I want to memorize every inch of you.”

  I laughed out loud in a low, throaty chuckle. “Honey, it’s gonna take more than one night to memorize every inch of my body.”

  He slipped my dress over my head and threw it on the floor. “Is that a challenge? You should know that I rise to the occasion when I’m challenged.”

  Our lips were dangerously close together as I whispered, “I have no doubt, Mr. Petersson.”

  Despite me being on top, he lay back down and managed to maneuver himself into a position where my throbbing sex was just above his mouth and the only piece of fabric that separated my slick wet juices from dripping between his sensuous lips were a pair of expensive lace courtesy of La Perla. This time I’d worn a thong because they provided easier access.

  Dorian slipped the stringy lace material to the side and I realized I truly was bared to him. I endured the ever-popular Brazilian wax like most women in this town—if they didn’t shave everything, which was also popular, but I wanted to still feel like a woman. Women had pubic hair—that’s what separated them from little girls and that landing strip somehow made me feel feminine and sexy instead of exposed and child-like.

  “Your pussy is even more beautiful than I imagined. We need to fuck with the lights on all the time. Now, I won’t ever want to not see it.”

  A chuckle escaped from my mouth until his tongue slid between my folds and found my hard throbbing clit. I stopped laughing and my breath came in pants as his beautiful mouth manipulated me in ways I’d never known a man could do to me to bring me so much pleasure.

  I was far from a novice and I had my expensive toys but he was better than anything I owned at home. The way he manipulated me, his fingers sliding all the way to the hilt and finding that spongy tissue inside me where a mere orgasm felt like fireworks on the Fourth of July, Christmas, my birthday, and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one explosion of the senses.

  Somehow, he knew just how to please me and the more his tongue and mouth manipulated my clit while his fingers worked inside of me built up a pressure I couldn’t stop. I was ready to explode and just when I thought he might deny me the opportunity to come, he pushed me over the edge and it was everything and more I could ever imagine.

  I moaned out loud and bucked my hips against his face as rolling waves of pleasure consumed me beyond mere desire but deep into the heart of an unknown place no one had ever penetrated inside me. How he’d taken me there I had no idea because I hadn’t given him permission, at least I kept telling myself that though no other had ever come close to making me feel what he’d just done.

  I shakily climbed off his face and fell onto my back, my whole body flushed with desire yet it didn’t stop me from watching him remove his jeans. His body was all-lean, sinewy muscle with a perfect cock meant for fucking. My eyes were glued to the specimen as he climbed onto my body and held me by my wrists again. I wasn’t worried about his will to dominate me but shouldn’t he have guided his cock inside me before he’d decided to go all alpha male on me?

  It was like he could read my mind as he said, “Your cunt is ripe and ready for me. Believe me, I’ll find that sweet spot again and my cock can take care of itself. Let me take care of you.”

  That he did as he claimed my lips again like they were his own personal property as his dick slid inside of me easily. I was so wet, there wasn’t any resistance of any kind but when he finally had me and was ball’s deep, I wanted to weep because it felt like I’d been welcomed home.

  What the hell was it about him that could make me feel so calm and yet on edge when he fucked me because that’s exactly what we did and I didn’t have a feeling or care to the contrary in the world. All I wanted was him deep inside of me, his hips ground against my own as he thrust in and out of me at a leisurely pace that seemed like he was delaying my second orgasm and perhaps his own.

  I realized then when I said I would do anything for him, I’d truly meant it. There wasn’t a position we didn’t try and when he squeezed my nipples to the point of where an explosive pain met a pinpoint of pleasure, I responded by clasping my hands over his own and pleading for him to hurt me even more.

  Of course Dorian was the perfect attentive lover. He truly didn’t have any overly sadistic tendencies he wanted to s
hare with me. Even when he took me to the edge of pleasure where pain collided, he knew when to pull back and allowed me an indulgence that no man had ever granted me.

  I wanted him to talk dirty to me and degradation would have been best but unfortunately, few words were exchanged between us. We were all demanding hands, lips, legs and sexual organs that sought out each other over and over again.

  By the time we came together, I’d forgotten how many times he’d brought me to pleasure and the dusk of the evening had faded into the time of the night when it was darkest. We had spent all night fucking each other and from the time on the digital clock, dawn wasn’t far away.

  Now I understood why I was so sore yet my body had never felt so sated or satisfied. It was the perfect feeling, and as he wrapped his arms around me, I leaned against him and settled into the position. There was nothing strange about him holding me like I was the only woman in the world. I wanted him to think I was special, and to have him worship me was a feeling I’d never experienced before. I’d been used plenty of times but the whole thought of someone finding reverence in my body was a revelation unto itself.

  “How do you feel?” Dorian whispered in my ear and despite my wish not to, a smile formed on my lips.

  “Deliciously sore and so very satisfied. I’ve never felt this way before . . . ever. Am I supposed to reveal that to you?” I wondered out loud.

  “Of course. We have no secrets from each other, remember? I want you to know everything about me and eventually, I will tell you because I know everything about you.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that comment but I found the words anyway. “I have no doubt. If you know me well enough then you’ll spare me some of the details I’m not ready to talk about with anyone.”

  “You mean . . .”

  “You know exactly what I mean, Dorian. If I haven’t shared it with another living soul for twenty years then let me tell you in my own time. You might know the facts but you don’t know how I feel. I was there and I wasn’t supposed to be. The look on my father’s face when he stared at me—oh, God . . . I knew he felt like he’d not only betrayed my mother but me as well. He didn’t have a choice but to eat the gun after that, and I live with that on my conscience each and every day.”

  I paused and tried to stop the tears from falling sideways down my face. “I shouldn’t have come home early from the movie date I had with my friends but I’d sensed something was wrong all day long. Mom and Dad had been fighting more than usual and it was all about a certain man, Richard Conlon. Dad accused Mom of having an affair but that it had gotten her nowhere because not only had he gotten her dropped from the label but he’d made her have an abortion.”

  Dorian wrapped me tighter in his arms. “I know all about what happened, Alyssa. I know why you chose Jeroen, and you made him suffer.”

  “You mean Richard.”

  “He’s never been Richard to me because I know what he did to my uncle and I hate him for it. I never wanted to be a van den Beek ever. In fact, as soon as I was old enough, I changed my last name to Petersson and dropped my first name. No way did I want to be Jeroen Dorian van den Beek in the country where my family name meant the epitome of evil, depravity and the upholding of a racial regime that was deplorable and dehumanizing as apartheid.”

  My heart seemed to stop beating but I knew it hadn’t. It continued to pump blood through my body all the same even though the puzzle was now coming together in my head.

  Steena’s maiden name was Petersson.

  Although Dorian had his mother’s features, his bone structure was pure Conlon—or shall I say van den Beek now that I knew who my deceased husband truly was.

  I didn’t want to face him but I couldn’t have him tell me the truth with my back to him. I turned around in his arms and met his blue eyes—the same color as Richard’s ironically—and truly looked at the man who’d spent most of the night inside me.

  “Admit it then. You said there would be no secrets between us,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “Why? What does it change? Would you have never slept with me if I told you the truth?” The inquiry itself felt harsh but for the first time I could hear vulnerability in his voice I’d never heard before.

  “Listen, Dorian, we were strangers. I didn’t know you at all except as an artist and . . . I wouldn’t have believed you. Richard told me he had no children.”

  “None he wanted to claim anyway. What did Steena tell you?”

  I sighed. “Looking back on the conversations we had, she didn’t talk much about it at all. Every time I approached the subject, she side-stepped me and would talk about some memory of her childhood in Sweden.”

  “She always wanted to keep me. She wanted us both. You see . . . we were fraternal twins. My brother and I were part of a debt that was owed to the Petersson family. They helped finance my father’s career when he had no money so they demanded any children from the union he had with my mother.

  “We were twins, and my brother was handed over to the Petersson family. Steena’s older sister, Ingrid, couldn’t have any children so she and her husband raised my brother. He grew up in a stable household in a beautiful Nordic country and he’s thrived. He’s quite the socialite playboy but we’re nothing alike.”

  I stared into his eyes as I touched the sides of his face with gentle hands. “How did you end up in South Africa?”

  “My grandparents weren’t stupid, Alyssa, and neither were the Conlons. They knew what Jeroen had done but by the time they figured it out, he was untouchable. Sure, they could have sent someone to eliminate him but that wouldn’t have brought Richard back. Since, technically, the Conlons still had someone using their family name, Edvard demanded a male heir. I was a debt that had to be paid. I had no choice in the matter, Alyssa. They needed a van den Beek to take over the family diamond empire, and I was the chosen one. Never mind van den Beek is like de Beers—it’s a Corporation and I am only one of the members on the Board of Trustees but the family name lives on. That’s all my grandparents ever cared about.”

  My heart thundered in my chest now. “What are you implying, Dorian?”

  “I’m not implying anything.” His voice was flat, unemotional—the same tone I took on when discussing the murder-suicide of my parents. “Edvin and I were debts that our parents needed to repay, Alyssa. If you were the casualty of my father’s behavior because he can be held directly responsible for your parents’ death then my brother and I were also casualties. My father sold us for fortune and fame. He dumped my mother when she became too old and acquired a gorgeous trophy wife—the daughter of the same woman he betrayed and ruined.”

  “It’s why I murdered him. He obliterated my mother’s dreams and destroyed my family. He’s the reason why I ended up under Campbell’s thumb. I hate Cam but I despised Richard with a loathing I still can’t describe to this day. And yet, I still felt guilty for planning his murder.”

  Dorian kissed my lips softly. “Don’t. That bastard got exactly what he deserved. He deprived me of my mother and he made me live the life that was carved out for him—not me. I decided a long time ago—from the moment I saw the article about his marriage to you—that I would one day take everything that belonged to my father. Including his wife.”

  I knew what he was saying but I needed to hear the words from his mouth. “What do you want from me, Dorian?”

  His fingers brushed against my cheek with a gentleness I could barely comprehend. “You might have been his trophy but I will make you my one and only prize possession. In the end, I will acquire everything that bastard ever had . . . and that, my dear, includes you.”

  Dorian and Alyssa’s story continues in

  Trophy, Part 2

  Premiering Monday, May 26th

  SE Chardou is the darker side of professional liar and world-class traveler.

  Ms. Chardou’s writing is usually either dark romance or psychological thrillers with mystery and suspense aspects weaved into t
he plotline.

  She is currently working on a vast array of books about good girls gone bad, bikers, gangsters, cartels, and any other subject she finds remotely interesting enough to add a dark, psychological twist.

  When not writing, she enjoys daydreaming about her next trip to France, jet-setting across the country to author signings and playing taxi driver to her school-age daughters.

  Ms. Chardou currently resides with her two children and their multitude of stuffed animals in Las Vegas, Nevada.

  Website: Novels That Rock

  Blog: The Realm of Selene Chardou

  Goodreads Author Page: Selene Chardou

  Follow Selene Chardou on Twitter

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  If you would like to email Selene Chardou, she can be reached at: selenechardou@gmail.com

  Future Novels by SE Chardou

  Trophy, A Serial Trilogy

  Part 2 (May 25, 2015)

  Part 3 (June 8, 2015)

  The Complete Series (June 15, 2015)

  Dance With The Devil Trilogy (Dark Romance/Romantic Suspense)

  Devil’s Play (Summer, 2015)

  The Southern Outlaw Series (Romantic Suspense/Psychological Thriller)

  The Syndicate (Fall, 2015)

  Stand-Alone Novels

  Trophy: Book I (April, 2015) [Romantic Erotica/Erotica Suspense]

  Trophy: Book II (May, 2015) [Romantic Erotica/Erotica Suspense]

  Trophy: Book III (May, 2015) [Romantic Erotica/Erotica Suspense]

  Beyond The Pale (Autumn, 2015) [Psychological Suspense & Thriller]

  Future Novels by Selene Chardou

  The Rough Riders MC Series (Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance)

  Ride to Love (Hardy & Talia) [Summer, 2015]

  Ride to Resurrection (Pyro & Mira) [Winter, 2015]

  Road To Redemption (Misty & Paddy) – Stand-alone companion novel [Autumn, 2015]