Takeover: The Complete Series

by Lana Grayson

  Why didn’t he end it?

  The moment he touched my skin would be the instant I’d lose myself forever in my own regret and hunger. He understood that. I dreaded it.

  So what stopped him?

  He tortured without the belt or a harsh word. Every second trapped in his power passed in a dozen eternities, ensnaring me in a remorseless need. The terror faded. The injustice and cruelty was lost within the praise of his words and gentle brush of his hands. I shivered.

  Nothing made sense.

  Somehow, bound and naked, weakened and helpless, it wasn’t Nicholas I no longer trusted.

  I didn’t trust myself.

  “Tell me,” Nicholas said, patient, curled in his web and waiting for me to tangle in his trap. “Tell me, and I’ll give you everything.”

  An admission. My consent. My dignity?

  This was a dangerous game we played. I licked my lips, wishing it were his kiss once more.

  “P—please.”

  His chuckle would have humiliated me had my broken pride not been immediately healed by the sudden, desperate, passionate kiss he placed directly on my trembling pussy.

  I nearly bolted from the bed, but the restraints held me as tightly as his sudden grip upon my hips. He forced my legs wider, jerking my body to where he had access to every fold and petal, soft secret and dripping wetness.

  His lips never left my skin. His tongue danced over my slit, batting my clit, and dipping down low to taste the part of me bound explicitly for his delight.

  I squirmed. He squeezed my legs and held me down.

  He chuckled as I moaned and suckled harder against my throbbing, overwhelmed slit.

  I arched in sudden panic.

  He’d won.

  I hated that he was right. Hated that he read me so easily. Hated that he controlled my desire.

  And I was so grateful he promised not to hurt me that his violation actually buzzed through my head like a stolen gift.

  I battled against the leather cuffs. My step-family lurked in the estate, eager for any scream or cry I might have uttered. Instead, I gasped. Shuddered. Lost my voice in an aching plea and twisted my hips for more attention. I no longer wished to escape his relentless pursuit. I had never imagined how delicious a skilled tongue would feel pressed within a part of me I woefully neglected.

  First his touch. Then his kiss?

  Only one mystery remained about my body, my reactions, and my untampered passion.

  He’d take my virginity.

  I came immediately as I envisioned just how raw and deliberate Nicholas would be.

  No warning. No explanation. I tensed until I swore everything he did, everything he said, everything he made me do ripped me into a million shattered pieces only to rebuild into an aching, fragile replica of my former self—midway between shattering and flaking into perfect oblivion.

  He growled.

  It was my first warning.

  I quivered and fell limp. My wrists flattened against the mattress, restraints and all. I didn’t have the strength to move or fight. I didn’t have the courage to bluff an excuse for coming so easily against his mouth. I didn’t have any way to defend myself or any reason to deny him.

  Nicholas rose, his hands ripping over the zipper to his pants.

  That was the second warning.

  In the hazy glow framing my vision, a man possessed with lust and overwhelmed with power stood over my prone body. His trousers fell away.

  Third warning.

  The ultimate warning.

  Every thought suddenly silenced in my mind, and the quiet realization deafened me.

  Twice now Nicholas had teased me into pleasure.

  Twice now he had twisted my resistance and proved a primal need existed within my nature.

  He owned my attraction and wove a power over me. I knew what he planned next.

  His cock hardened, jutting between his legs with every threat he promised and every masculine command he’d wield. I stared at the thickness.

  What was I thinking?

  He moved between my legs, stroking the thickening shaft.

  Bare.

  Because he meant to do more than fuck me.

  Rape. Mate. Breed.

  All animalistic urges. Nothing sensitive. Nothing sweet. Nothing for my benefit except the pleasure of being used, fucked, and taken by a man for his ultimate intentions.

  I had to tell him.

  Before this went any farther. Before someone realized the truth.

  Before they realized no matter the pleasure, no matter the restraints, no matter the dangerous attraction, I was still in control.

  I had to tell him.

  I had to stop this.

  I had to…

  Nicholas leaned over me, positioning the thick head of his cock against my quivering slit.

  He wasn’t going to stop now.

  No matter what I said or what I revealed.

  I shut my mouth and wrapped my hands around the restraints’ chains.

  “Submit,” he whispered. “Do you trust me?”

  “No.” Every word wavered. “Can you trust me?”

  “What’s not to trust?”

  “Everything.”

  “You are a risk worth taking.” He studied my body, how my hips arched to meet his, how his cock pushed against my glistening slit. “And I will take you, Sarah. Again and again until I’m certain you’ll forever belong to me.”

  He pushed forward, capturing my shock with a kiss as forceful as his thrust.

  I expected pain.

  I expected humiliation.

  I expected ruin, sorrow, and loss.

  His eyes widened, the golden softness as much a gift as his thick arms protecting me from the world. He filled me too suddenly, and I cried out. But the sting of my virginity wasn’t stolen in a violent act of cruelty.

  He claimed me.

  And…I claimed him.

  Our bodies melded, combined, and locked in a sudden and shared passion so consuming I stopped breathing, he stilled, and we shared an absolute shudder of peace.

  No more fighting. No battles. My body surrendered while his protected. My heat welcomed him. His thickness commanded me.

  He stole me, but nothing about the ravishing heat frightened me. The blooming pleasure overwhelmed the quick slice that assaulted my virginity. His movements tested me, and my gratitude lashed over him as though I held the belt and struck his sensitive and wanting skin.

  Another movement. Another sigh. Another wave of acceptance.

  “Please.” I whispered, but this time, I didn’t beg for my freedom. “Please.”

  “A cry for mercy?” His words rasped with a waning control.

  “Don’t you dare take mercy on me, Nicholas Bennett.”

  “I never intended to.”

  His kiss silenced my whimpers, my thoughts, and my fading control.

  His cock stirred within me—deeper than I ever imagined I could be taken. My legs wrapped over his hips. He seized everything I gave and demanded whatever I dared to hide.

  His muscles strained. His forearms flexed as he dug his fingers into the mattress. He stared at my helpless form, bouncing against the blankets and nearly breaking for more of his godly torment.

  How did something so vulgar become so beautiful?

  Passion and desire destroyed everything ugly and banished whatever fear I possessed.

  I lied to him.

  He asked if I trusted him.

  The answer was yes. With everything. With my body. My pleasure. The imprisonment. His advice. I trusted him to keep me safe. To fill me with the courage I lost combating his father and to reassure me with pleasure when the restraints stole my strength.

  He hadn’t released me. I became his own personal deviancy as he thrust again and again within my clenching core.

  He fucked me.

  He took me.

  He’d try to breed me.

  I didn’t understand the carnal need, but I understood a man like Nicholas
. He was unchallenged, dominating his opponents through sheer strength of will. This time, I was the opponent. He fucked me with a bare cock and planned to seed me if only to defy the world and claim me for his own.

  I had to tell him.

  He kissed me again, and the secret was buried.

  We tightened together. My hands curled into fists, tugging at the restraints, demanding to touch and hold and imbed myself upon the man who controlled me. He sunk us deeper into the bed. His body pounded against mine in a blind fury of passion.

  My surrender ripped through me.

  The cresting intensity rushed with such ferocity I feared the crumbling, aching crush of my body. I gave him everything in a moment, a single blistering fraction of time that darkened the world and captured me within the golden hush of his possession. Nothing prevented it. Nothing prepared me for it.

  I came, and Nicholas’s growl would have shaken the foundation of the estate, crumbling the brick and mortar I’d threatened.

  I offered more of my hips, of my tightness, of my taken virginity, and he lost himself in me.

  A heat splashed inside me, filling me, coating me, jetting deeper and deeper as Nicholas buried himself as completely as he could. Body against body, skin flushed against skin. I arched and gasped, losing my breath and not caring if it ever returned.

  I cried out just as the Bennetts expected, but only Nicholas’s name passed beyond my lips, as secret as a kiss and as forsaken as my pride.

  Oh, God.

  He had come inside me.

  And my pleasure rippled as I clenched against the utter dominance of my body.

  My frantic breathing and rolling shudders frightened me. He flicked his fingers through the restraints to release me from the bindings.

  As if he thought I’d run, he captured me in his arms. We sunk into the bed, entwined in a kiss and sweaty from a coupling that had been the most terrifying and amazing experience of my life. I clung to him, staring into his amber, flashing eyes with no fear, no hostility, and no cowering plea ever to escape his arms.

  He said nothing but tucked me onto my side, pulling the comforter up to cover my nudity. He laid beside me in silence. Cradling me. Soothing me. Soothing himself.

  He thought I’d be shocked. Devastated. Frightened by the seed tucked in my belly and the implications of his mounting.

  I sighed into the pillows as his finger traced a delicate path over skin that needed something rougher and more demanding than gentleness.

  I wasn’t frightened.

  I feared nothing, not now that I understood how strongly I could submit, and just how much power I held over the men who presumed to own me.

  I had lost the battle. Unequivocally. Almost intentionally.

  But Nicholas Bennett?

  He lost the war.

  14

  Nicholas

  Sarah Atwood slept in my arms.

  Soundless. Peaceful. Tamed, for once in her life.

  It took every reserve of my patience and strength to break her without losing her. I shouldn’t have held back.

  She defeated me first.

  I counted the easy breaths which passed through her lips, puffy and pink. They had yet to curl into a smile for me. She sated my lust, and fucking her fulfilled my primal urges in a single moment of unrepentant and bountiful bliss. But I wasn’t satisfied.

  I wanted her smile.

  I wanted her trust.

  I wanted her to understand.

  I wasn’t an unreasonable man. Selfish, but not a fool. The girl hadn’t believed I would bed her, even after my father abused, terrorized, and humiliated her.

  But I never doubted for a second that I would take her. I tied her down and took her virginity. Her first taste of passion, and she struggled against leather wrist cuffs. I spread her legs, but her surrender was as elusive as whatever secrets she hid from me.

  Her body complied. Her words admitted her place. But her mind? She was stronger than I anticipated, more beautiful than I imagined, and fiercer than any I’d ever encountered.

  And so I held my step-sister down, fucked her like a ravaging animal, and filled her with my every intent to breed her with my child.

  Then she slept in my arms.

  The daughter of my family’s greatest enemy, ruined and pleasured, clung to the arm I draped over her waist.

  The sun had yet to rise. I preferred the darkness, but Sarah’s pale blonde hair acted as the only bright and wholesome revelation in the room. How innocent could one woman be?

  I stirred. As much as I longed to remain pressed inside her for the night, I had untied her. I kissed her without the cuffs and held her secure, offering her safety while my mind raged with the conquering, masculine high of chaotic pleasure.

  I meant to protect and comfort her. And yet, I kept her still so she wouldn’t spill my seed by escaping the bed.

  Just the thought hardened me.

  She called me cruel.

  I believed her.

  She labeled me a demon.

  What defense could I give?

  She claimed she didn’t trust me.

  She lied.

  How many times would I be forced to destroy her innocence?

  She wiggled. The greatest and worst temptation in my world cuddled against me. During the taking, I’d gripped the mattress instead of her, fearing the severity of my lust. In the predawn darkness, the absolute stillness of secret between night and day, a delicate and fierce woman rested in my grasp. I’d already stolen her once.

  Tasted. Claimed. Seeded.

  One crime committed, another tempted.

  My hand wove over her hip. She sighed. My fingers teased for warmth in the cradle between her legs. Her hips edged closer. I flicked my finger against her clit, reveling in the slickness I left within her.

  Sarah mewed.

  It was the only sound I craved.

  The tip of my finger traced a tiny circle. She panted awake, but my strength pinned her between my chest, hardening cock, and teasing touch. I’d offer her such a reward for just a moment of obedience.

  Her hand gripped my wrist. I didn’t let her push me away. Another few circles and she fell limp. Those perfect lips parted once more. She breathed my name. It was the only word that rivaled the simple thrill of her protests.

  I nibbled her ear and she rewarded me with a sweet shiver. “Tell me how this feels.”

  “Invasive.”

  I chuckled. “It’s soft, Sarah. Warm and wet.”

  Her words wavered. “Haven’t you tormented me enough?”

  “Never. You enjoy the torment too much.”

  Her wetness betrayed her. My cock throbbed for a taste of her. I’d take anything that would ease the rage in me, pacify my need, and silence the demon that demanded another cruel claiming.

  But I doubted anything could quell that dark instinct. A raw passion burned my veins and blinded me to everything humane and respectable.

  I angled her hips against me. Her words silenced as the head of my cock pushed once more into her tender, inexperienced body. Too weak to deny me and too slick to prevent me, I thrust. The violation shocked her. She tensed, gripping my hands, holding her breath, fluttering with a rabid pulse that tickled against my chest,

  I pushed.

  She shuddered in a soundless wave of pleasure.

  And I had her once again. The tightness fractured me, crumbling away my honor and searing me with the savage determination.

  “You will be mine,” I whispered, as if she had any doubt. “From this moment. You belong only to me. Your body. Your pleasure.” I tested her, watching as she pawed against the thickness spreading her apart. “Everything you are will be mine.”

  Her nails sunk into my arms. “You’ll never have all of me.”

  “You can’t fight me.”

  “I’m not,” She whispered through threaded gasps. “You’ve captured me. You’ve won all you can. But it was never a fair game, Nicholas.”

  “I decide what’s fair.” My
teeth pinched against her neck. “And I decide the rules.”

  “Not this time.”

  “Always. From this moment on.”

  I thrust harder. She accepted me. Her chest puffed in excitement. Her perfect breasts, kissed with the delicate raspberry buds, captured in my hand. She whimpered and tightened around me, and the pleasure rolled from the base of my spine. I blinded myself to everything but her. I lusted for her innocence and softness, and I took the petite wisp of her body and every feminine curve that made her irresistible.

  And still, the agonizing realization stalked me. No matter how hard I fucked her, how firmly I held her, or how many demands I forced on her, Sarah Atwood was stronger than I expected.

  Her submission came naturally, but I’d never break her.

  I no longer wanted to break her.

  Her panting desperation twisted my control. She arched against me, and I slammed as deeply as my cock would fit.

  My orgasm shadowed hers.

  I grunted and emptied myself in her, again and again. She squeezed me and came. Her pussy milked my throbbing cock, greedily accepting my seed into her core.

  Nothing compared. Years of self-sacrifice and protection to ensure the Bennett line wasn’t tarnished by whatever woman happened across my path, and now? I released inside Sarah, perfect and tantalizing.

  It was a shame she didn’t want it.

  A crime that I did it.

  And a crisis of conscience that I felt no remorse in satisfying my desire.

  Her panted breaths ended with a cough. The sound stilled my heart.

  I pulled from Sarah before she was ready, and her soft, protesting murmur refueled my passion. I ignored my unrelenting hardness and stood, rifling through the pocket of my suit jacket. Her inhaler tucked safe inside, hidden from her provided she asked politely, sweetly, and obediently for the right to breathe.

  My father’s wishes disgusted me. I handed her the inhaler. She hesitantly took the medication.

  Sarah said nothing, watching as I collected myself and disguised my evil in the civilized suit and coat. Her cheeks flushed as she tucked the blanket along her body. She acted as though I hadn’t memorized every last inch of her slim form.