by J. L. Beck
“Get that fucker. Don’t let him get away,” Adrian says from above me.
I let his words sink into me and comfort me. Even if it’s all an act, I don’t want to let him go. “Please, don’t leave me.”
His arms tighten around me. “No one is leaving you, Angel. I’m right here. We’re in the elevator going to the car now. Kai and the team are searching for Sal.”
“I mean, when you kill him, and we are done with our deal, please don’t leave me.” I try to open my eyes and look up at him to memorize his face and keep it forever. “When you’re done with me, I still want to stay.” It’s idiotic. What woman in their right mind would want a relationship like that? All give and no take.
But I’ll give him every single part of me if he promises to take them.
25
Adrian
She’s so quiet in the car ride back to the penthouse that I have to keep checking that she’s breathing. Holding her, I feel a little less like burning the world down. At the very least, Sal signed his own death warrant by touching Valentina. Not just from me, but by society rules. More than just my team will be hunting for him now. As for Olenka…I gave her to Andrea to play with. No doubt she’ll be screaming for mercy within the hour.
Val’s dress is ripped—cut—up her back, and I keep moving it to cover her when she or the car shifts. Another wave of white-hot rage rolls through me every time I do. He touched her, hurt her, after I promised her she would be safe. I don’t break my promises.
What’s worse, for some reason, she thinks the moment I kill Sal that our deal is complete. My careful handling of her feels like it was all for nothing. She expects me to take her as payment for services rendered. If all I wanted was a woman to fuck, there are a hell of a lot less complicated ways to get a bed partner. Hell, I could have had my pick from any society darling, fucking her right there on the ballroom floor, and her family would have still thanked me for choosing her.
Valentina doesn’t understand our world as well as I thought she did. Nor does she know me as well as I need her to. It only makes me angrier because the realization hurts. It fucking hurts, and I hate that she has this power now.
She stirs in my arms, and I clutch her tighter. “Rest, Angel. I’ve got you.”
When we reach the penthouse, Kai opens the doors for me all the way up until we are behind my very thorough security. Then I set her gently on her feet and wrap my jacket around her tightly.
It’s a stalling tactic so I don’t turn and gut every single one of my men. I’m reminding myself that these people are my friends. Yet they almost let my wife be raped and killed in the fucking hotel bathroom.
Kai steps in front of the rest of them, all except Andrea, who is dealing with Olenka. He’ll try to take the blame, and maybe I should let him. After all, he oversaw the assignments tonight. Andrea should have gone into that bathroom with Valentina. She shouldn’t have been alone for one second.
I’m close to erupting and shooting every motherfucking person in this room, save her. Kai takes another step forward, further trying to shield the others. “Boss…”
“Explain. Why the fuck was she alone in that bathroom? I know damn well it’s not against your delicate sensibilities to be in the ladies’ room…you’ve fucked enough women in there that no one bothers calling you out when you enter. So explain why my wife was almost killed…because I’d really like to fucking hear it.”
A soft whooshing sound is pounding in my ears. Like my heartbeat but cranked to max volume. He’s speaking, but I can’t even hear him. I grab the closest object and throw it against the wall. It shatters, and I can’t even tell what it was. The destruction doesn’t help.
I’m so angry I’m dizzy with it. All this time of caring for her, keeping her safe, helping her recover was shattered in a moment of carelessness. And worse, I blame myself too. I shouldn’t have left her alone for one second. It should have been me in that bathroom with Valentina. Sal wouldn’t have dared to show his fucking face.
I go to the bar, fling glasses out of the way until I find the bottle I want. It feels so breakable in my hands, yet I don’t fling it away. I tug the cork out of the top and take a long draw, then turn to face Kai again. “I didn’t hear a fucking word you said because there is no excuse you can give me that will make this fucking right.”
I gesture at Valentina and then look at her. My words die in my throat. She’s huddled in my coat, wide, glassy eyes staring at me in alarm. Now she’s scared of me. Hell, she wasn’t even scared of me when we met. She wasn’t scared of me when she came to me for help. Sal did this, and I’ll fucking slaughter him for it.
Ignoring my men, I slowly approach her. When she flinches away, it’s like a knife in my gut, serrated and dull. “Angel, look at me.”
She continues to stare straight again. I snap my fingers in front of her face and pat her cheek. “Val, darling, look at me.”
When she shifts her gaze to mine, her face crumples, and the glossy sheen of her eyes morphs to tear-coated. “It’s not their fault. I needed time alone. I told them to leave me alone.”
“Why?” I plead for her to explain, to give me a reason not to kill my friends.
“Rose,” she whispers. “I kept seeing her in the crowd. The night I met you, it was our first party, and we were so excited. I kept seeing her…” Her voice drifts off, and the tears stop falling.
I cup her cheek and turn enough to take the bottle and press it to her lips. “Take a little sip for me, Angel. You’re in shock, and I need you to take a sip and let it help calm you down.”
She blinks lazily and then does as I ask. Once she swallows, she looks at me again. “Adrian? What’s going on? Please. Take me upstairs. I need…”
I’m already moving before she finishes her sentence. With the bottle still in my hand, I pick her up and carry her to our room, slamming the door behind me. She jolts at the sound but settles as I carefully set her on the bed.
I gently peel off the jacket and then ease off the dress hanging off her waist. She doesn’t assist or try to stop me. Next, I ease all the pins from her hair and massage her scalp. Once I tossed them on her sink in the bathroom, I bring out a makeup remover wipe, and as thoroughly as possible, I wipe away her smeared makeup.
“Tell me what you need, Angel. I’m right here.”
She reached out to cup my cheeks. “You. I just need you.”
I move to get on the bed, but she stops me, scratching at the buttons of my shirt. After I start to quickly undress, she lies down on the pillows watching me. There’s no heat in her gaze, no response to either of our nudity as I climb into bed naked beside her.
She curls up, her back to my front, and I pull her into me. “Angel?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Talk to me. Are you okay?”
“Fine. I just need you to touch me. Chase away the memories and make them good again.” As she speaks, she guides my hand down her belly to her pussy, urging my hand between her thighs.
“Did he touch you…?”
“No, he didn’t get the chance. Rose...” She breaks off, and I wait, holding my breath.
When she doesn’t continue, I prompt her. “Rose, what?”
“It’s nothing,” she murmurs and rolls over to face me. She rearranges my hand so I’m cupping her gently.
I want nothing more than to part her warmth and sink my fingers inside her. To give her something to chase away the pain, to erase that bastard from her mind, but I can’t bring myself to touch her right now. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t trust myself to stop. Everything in me is screaming to claim her, mark her, take her as mine. But I can’t do it with this glassy look in her eyes. Not when she still thinks I plan to give her up one day.
“Angel, talk to me. Tell me how to help you.”
She wiggles against my hand and closes her eyes. “Touch me, please. I need you.”
Fucking hell. There’s only so much control a man can have. But she looks so fragile and so
young spread out on my bed.
“I can’t do that right now, Angel. Not until you’re more like yourself.”
Her lip quivers. “Then you don’t want me. It was all a game. That’s why we haven’t had sex yet.”
I roll her onto her back in one quick move, shoving between her thighs in the next. My hard cock is right against her, and I know she can’t mistake it.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I want you more than I want my next breath. I want to shove into your tight little body until you scream my name. And when I spill my load, I’ll stay inside you until I know my child is growing in your womb. You’re mine, and only mine, Valentina. I won’t be letting you go anywhere.”
Her eyes are wide now but calmer and more alert. A pink flush stains her cheeks, and I drop my mouth there, kissing her warm skin. “I’m trying to be gentle, Angel, but it’s not in my nature. I only know how to take, and right now, it’s all I want to do.”
“Touch me, please,” she whispers. Her hands cup my cheeks, and I stare down into her eyes. “Touch me and let me feel something other than fear, or anger, or pain. Give me pleasure to chase away this black hole inside me. It’s threatening to eat me alive, and I’m so tempted to let it.”
I press down on her so I can frame one of her hands, my other arm supporting some of my weight. “Don’t you dare. You belong to me. We made a deal, remember? We haven’t fulfilled any part of it yet.”
She nods, her eyes wary. “I know. I thought maybe that’s why…”
A hot wave of anger rolls over me. “If you’re implying I let Sal get to you. That I would put you in danger as what…some kind of punishment for not being ready to have sex with me, then you better keep your fucking mouth shut. I would rather rip off my own arm than put you in danger.”
She swallows loud enough for me to be able to hear it. “It’s ridiculous. I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I grab her chin and force her eyes to mine. “Is this you trying to fulfill our deal to ensure what happened tonight never happens again? Is that the only reason you’re begging me to touch you? Some kind of payment?”
And just like that, the knife in my gut is back. Except this time, she’s twisting it with her own bloodstained hands.
Fuck. I shove off her before I vent my rage on her fragile body. Instead of shouting, I pace around the room, trying to give myself time to process. If all of this is a lie to her, then where does that leave me? I never once pretended she wasn’t my end goal. I’m not sure how long I pace. I only stop when a soft hand on my shoulder stills me.
When I turn to face her, tears are streaming down her cheeks again. Fucking hell, I hate when she cries. It tears things inside me I didn’t even know I could feel anymore.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind and gentle with me. I shouldn’t even have hinted you would let me get hurt. Your men aren’t to blame either because I asked them to give me a minute. They were trying to be polite.”
I turn away, intending to pace some more. Maybe walk back and forth across the hardwood until some of this rage burns out of me.
“Please, come back to bed.”
I shrug her hand off me. “Why? What’s the fucking point if I’m just some monster hell-bent on using you for your body in exchange for your protection?”
She clutches at me again and then turns me to face her. “Come back to bed, please. I want you to make love to me.”
26
Valentina
Saying it doesn’t lessen my fear. He tips my chin up as if he can see right through me to the marrow. One look and I’m spread wide for his inspection, and somehow, he doesn’t shy away from what he sees.
“How about a shower first, Angel? You’re shaking.”
I stare down at my hands, gripping his arm tightly, and my fingers are trembling. Strange that I didn’t notice. Well, now I do, and the fact that my knees are knocking together.
Now that a shower is on the table, I realize how much I want one. Hot and steamy to get every trace of Sal off my skin. Scrubbed and clean like he never touched me at all. If only it were that easy. If only the years of enduring his touch weren’t branded on my body.
He picks me up easily, slinging me into his arms. I wrap my hands around his neck automatically. Not because I fear he’ll drop me but because I want to bury my face against him and draw that clean, masculine scent into my lungs.
He starts the shower with one hand and gently eases me onto my feet under the warm spray. It’s hot and takes me a moment to adjust. Before I can start on my hair, he spins me, his front to mine, and he backs me under the direct spray and goes to work on my hair himself. How can a man with such a ruthless reputation be so gentle to me? I lean my head into him so he can reach the back of my hair. Once he finishes washing, he adds conditioner and teases a comb through my curls like I showed him before. It melts my heart, and tears mix with the water as he silently works.
After the hair, he rubs a soap bar through his palms and then uses his bare hands to wash my body. He takes his time, easing his fingers over every inch of me and saving my pussy for last. Meeting my eyes, he sets his mouth in a firm line, then he slides his slick fingers between my legs and massages the soap everywhere. When his fingers graze my clit, I don’t bother biting back the moan that rises in me. But he doesn’t continue there, only kneels in the shower and washes my thighs, my calves, and my feet. He props one of my feet onto his thigh and gently eases the ache caused by the high heels I wore.
“Feel better?” he asks, still kneeling.
I delve my fingers into his wet hair, mussing it. “Let me wash you now.”
He casts his eyes up the line of my body but then stands and lets me wash him. He must bend way down for me to reach his hair, and then I also take my time washing him carefully with the soap. His shoulders are impossibly wide, and they make a beautiful sight as you move from their width to the tightly muscled curve of his waist.
Damn, he’s beautiful.
In suits, he’s devastating, but like this…he is nothing but destruction. I can’t stop touching him, even if I wanted to.
“Angel,” he whispers.
I look up from where I’d been running my fingers along the indents at his hips. “Hmm…?”
“I don’t think I have it in me to be gentle tonight. But I know that’s what you need.”
His hands are shaking as he wraps both of mine around the hard tip of his cock. It juts up between us, solid and hot.
“Help me, so I can be gentle with you afterward.”
I notch my chin higher. “What if I don’t want you to be gentle?”
He curses under his breath and backs me straight into the shower wall. His tall hard body presses tight into me. “I’m not playing games. When I say you can’t handle it tonight, then trust me.” He nips my bottom lip with his teeth hard enough to sting. “There will be other nights to exercise my control, but tonight isn’t one of them. Nod, Angel, so I know you understand.”
I nod, my breathing sounding loud to me, even with the spray of the water bouncing off the tiles around us.
He eases his feet back enough to give me room to work him while his upper body and face stay aligned with mine. It can’t be a comfortable position, but I don’t say anything and do as he asks.
I trust him.
Watching his face for his reactions, I move my hands up and down his length. I remember helping him do this before, but it seems more difficult on my own. He stands above me, watching my eyes, my lips, and then back up again.
I tighten my grip until he hisses out a breath, and then I work him faster. When his hips twitch forward in time with my movements, like he’s thrusting into them, a hot molten core opens inside me. I’m burning from the inside out, and he’s the only one who can quench the flame.
“Finish it, Angel,” he grits out. “Harder.”
I again follow his direction and pump him harder, faster, always watching his eyes. At first, he didn’t appear to b
e reacting at all. But now, staring into his eyes, I see it. Not just the sensation of my hands on his body, but how much he wants me. How much he can’t wait to make me scream his name. How hard he’s going to take me despite his desire to go slowly with me.
I don’t care. I want him more than anything right now. My strokes are shallowing out as my arms grow tired. He wraps his hands around me again and offers his own strength to mine. Together, we slick up his length and pump him faster. He’s pressing more into me now, almost pumping himself against my belly.
And then a warm jet of cum hits my skin first, right under my breast. Then over a nipple. On my lip.
He never, not for one second, takes his eyes off me. When he eases himself down and carefully unpeels my fingers from his now semi-hard length, I realize my heart is hammering in my chest so hard I can hear it in my ears and feel it in my entire body. I’m throbbing with need for him.
He reaches out and swipes the drop of his semen off my lips, then gently shoves it into my mouth so I can lick it off. I wrap my tongue around his finger, lapping it all and then sucking deep so he knows what else I want to do to him.
“Still testing my control, I see. Let’s go to bed so I can take care of you.”
He flips off the water, steps out of the shower, and grabs a fluffy white towel. When I move to take it, he smacks my hand gently and then uses it himself to dry me from head to toe. Afterward, he grabs the product I use in my hair. I’m about to protest, but he gives me a look that freezes my bones where I stand. Message received. He wants to take care of me in every way. Not just the sex parts.
After he finishes and dries my hair again, he scoops me into his arms and carries me to the bed. He’d given himself a brisk wipe with the towel, and water droplets still cling to his skin in places. When he climbs onto the bed beside me, I turn and lick one off the curve of his shoulder.
