ENRAPTURED: A Dark Billionaire Romance (The Devil & His Dove Book 2)

by Jax Hart

  I’ve never been so turned on. It’s been weeks since a man’s touched deep inside me where I need.

  “Change your mind, little dove?”

  “Never.”

  He closes his eyes, pumping faster and faster into his hand, “Jessie!” He groans coming on himself. My knees tremble. He’s never said my name when he comes. I’ve never watched anyone like this. It’s decadent, wrong…so hot. He continues to pump into his hands, but his eyes are open now and trained on me. His gaze travels from my breasts down my stomach to the triangle of curls I refuse to do more than trim. There’s ownership in his eyes as he lingers on me before one last spasm has him falling back against a pillow. One arm crosses over his forehead. “Theos, that was good. You always make it good, whether I’m in you or not.”

  He gets up and walks into the bathroom to clean himself up. I take that moment to pull my T-shirt back on. The cotton rubs against my bare nipples making me moan. I need to come. But I can’t stand his hands on me, hurting my heart while taking the ache between my thighs away.

  He gets back into bed, opens the cover and pats the spot next to him. I shake my head. “Suit yourself,” he yawns, sated by his visceral release.

  My thumb hangs from my mouth as I pace, chewing my nail. I’m worked up, horny as hell and I’m angry. He’s seducing me again, using different tactics but the end result is the same. I want him. Badly. Between my legs, making me scream.

  But I can’t give him the satisfaction of my surrender. Holding out is the only hope I have. He fakes a snore. My face heats, seeing red. I want to jump on the bed, pummel him with my fists, slap his face until my palm stings. Then I want to ride him. Up and down while he presses my clit hard.

  I settle for slamming the bathroom door behind me as I turn the shower on, riffle through his drawers finding the vibrator still in its plastic case, never opened. That asshole had it here since the first day I woke up. It taunted me, that he knew I’d need it. Many nights, after he pet me, I was tempted to sneak out of bed and finish myself off.

  I tear it open, then throw the thing at the marble wall. It turns on. The steady buzz echoing. Fuck this. I can’t sleep.

  Stepping into the shower, I take the removable head down holding the jet against my aching core.

  It’s not enough.

  Hanging my head, my palm slaps the wall.

  He’s beat me.

  Again.

  I open the glass door, pick-up the vibrator and hold the thrumming machine against my clit. Just as I start to feel the wave, I stick it in deep, feeling the gyrating head hit my G-Spot. “Christos!” I moan coming hard, collapsing on the floor in shame as the water pours over me.

  Sighing, I slip from the covers and face another crisp autumn day, wondering when I’ll be free again. I didn’t dare climb in bed with him after I made myself come. I was so angry, I found my way to the kitchen, had a cutting knife in my hand and was halfway up the stairs before I realized what I was doing. I dropped it like a hot coal. My anger and shame at who he’s turned me into is making me unstable. I lost all rational thought as I held the knife, fantasizing about how I’d use it. Instead, I found an empty bedroom, riffled through the medicine cabinet and took a few sleeping pills. He probably used them on someone else at some other time. But I didn’t care as I swallowed them down using tap water. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits me as I slowly open the door and quietly enter the hallway.

  My parents must be worried sick. I was supposed to return home to San Diego by now. Andre and Yaya must know he has me. Surely, they all are searching the world trying to bring me back home. I hesitate at the door to the room I’ve been staying in. I slowly crack it open, using one eye to peek in. He’s gone.

  The air is chilly as I slip on a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater and pick-up a pair of boots I found in the tack room of the barn. I’ve come here everyday since I knew it was here.

  My only friends have four legs. Their affection isn’t faked with pills or part of a twisted game to break me down and take something from me.

  My hand twists the knob. Even though it’s been unlocked since I arrived, I still expect him to change his mind without notice.

  On light feet, I tip-toe down the back set of stairs the staff uses and slip out the back door.

  The cold, wet air of early morning greets me. Mist spirals up from the dew-covered grass. My feet sink easily into the worn leather boots. I jog through the white mist to my refuge, the barn. As far as I know, Christos never comes in here. Probably because the smell of dung and hay is too much for his aristocratic ass.

  “Hello love.” I call out, hearing the answering snicker from the light brown mare in the last stall. Her name is Simone. An elegant name for an elegant creature.

  I take the apple I slipped from the kitchen yesterday out of my pocket, holding it out to her soft nose.

  She takes it gingerly from my hand. I smile, feeling the familiar small body twining around my legs. “Did you think I forgot you?” Ollie, the barn cat, blinks his green eyes at me. I reach in my other pocket for the piece of smoked salmon Christos likes on his bagels and hold it out for the cat.

  Maybe I’m the one buying friends. Earning affection anyway I can.

  I slink down to the floor, resting my back against the open stall door. Simone knows she has it made here and there’s only a piece of velvet rope clipped across her door.

  Ollie climbs in my lap.

  And I let the tears fall.

  Simone nuzzles my hair, snickering softly. Each of them sensing my sadness, my despair, that my life is once again not mine to live.

  I weep where only they can hear me. Shoulders shuddering with shame. I wanted him to touch me last night. Wanted his hands to stroke between my thighs. Freya was right, I’ll never be the same after what they all did to me. But I also crave the pleasure, miss the ecstasy, the high of the carnal delights of the dark world he brought me into. I hate him but crave his touch. His dark love does set me free. I lose every rational thought when I’m in his arms. But I can’t ever forget what he did. How far he went to destroy the love growing between us.

  Fiona.

  That bitch’s face as he entered her from behind. How she smirked as I cried, every thrust of Christos’s hips was a dagger to my chest.

  I can’t let him win.

  I won’t let him back into my world like that. I hang my head in shame remembering what we did in the dark hours earlier. How I watched him pleasure himself with hungry eyes and what I did to myself afterwards.

  But how do you beat the devil at his own game?

  CHRISTOS

  SHE’S IN THE BARN AGAIN. Crying to the ponies.

  It’s too early for a stiff drink so I settle for a fresh cigar.

  It’s all gone. Every last feeling that tried to linger. I tore five companies apart last week; a new personal record of destruction. I’m at my breaking point with Jessie. My body needs release. I could drive to London, to the clubs Alex and I used to haunt. But I want my dove back.

  I know she feigns sleep when I slip under the sheets, molding her body to mine deep in the night. She sighs softly and bites her lip to hold back her moan as my hands roam over her still golden skin. But last night she was awake every minute I touched her. I can’t hold back much longer. I’ve never been a man to go without sex. Especially since it’s the only pleasure I get out of this life.

  I won’t force her. But last night, goddamn it, I wanted to. She wants me, despite her denials. She needs our sweet chaos just as much as I do.

  My aching cock wanted to nestle against her curves. But I held him back.

  I know the prize between her thighs will be worth the wait. This time when she succumbs to my seduction, it won’t be because of drugs or edging. It will simply be because she knows our sick love will never be over.

  I’ll never fuck another woman as long as my dove draws breath. But I needed to show her; teach her I wouldn’t tolerate her tantrums or demands. I am the one in control and she will n
ever forget that ever again. Although I’ve lost my fleeting ability to feel, I haven’t lost my cunning. If anything, it’s sharper than ever. My slow seduction of my dove will be sweeter than her submission the first time. Last night was new to me as well.

  My cock pulses in my pants. Hungry and hard, needing her now. But he can wait. The pleasure of riding her bare, coming in her tight glove of heaven will be worth any pain today.

  My hand moves to adjust myself.

  Moving to my desk, I take a look at the few post cards I have left. But these will never be mailed. I hired a professional hand writer, using samples of Jessie’s writing that I took from her initial application to be a deckhand on my yacht, and had the professional pen a half dozen while she worked on Yaya’s goodbye letter. Jin mailed just a few from tiny towns between Capri, Greece, and finally from the coast of France. The one from France will be the last her parents ever hear from her.

  Jessie’s parents think little Jessie was busy, seeing the world like she set out to. I suppose it gave them comfort when they received the news. Whistling like a wolf, I place the postcards back in my desk and walk to the windows.

  Soon Jessie will be busy in my bed.

  Day and night.

  I’ll give her no respite from me. She won’t be able to walk straight for a week. I’ve respected her wish. I haven’t used forced consent. But my patience is running thin.

  I’m going to take more than before, give nothing back. My finger traces the small monitor zoomed in on her face. My fist clenches. The memory of how she felt moving under me is too strong to fight. If she doesn’t bend soon, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hold out. I knew she needed rest, and to gain her strength back, otherwise I’d have her naked and chained up again.

  My cock jerks, remembering how good my dove broke for me last time. Theos, I can’t get any work done stiff as a board and frustrated all the time. With one last, lingering look at my broken bird crying on the stable floor, I close my laptop, turn off the monitor, and pick up my wallet and keys.

  Now that I know she’s in my grasp, I need to clear my head and focus. Before I do the one thing to her I swore I’d never do. It’ll always be a yes. And this time I’ll wait for it. But I need to leave before I take her; breaking my own promise. I might be a monster, a devil with no soul, but I still know right from wrong, choosing which rules to follow or break.

  Locking the door to my study behind me, I find Mrs. Fitz in the kitchen. “I was just bringing your coffee, sir.”

  “Leave it. I’m going to London.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I’m not sure. Make sure she eats. Call me or Jin if you need anything. She’s smart, don’t let her crying jags in the barn fool you—if she thinks she has a chance to escape, she’ll use it.”

  “She won’t get past me.”

  “She better not. Your son’s life depends on it. But just in case, I’ll call Jin back from America early to keep an eye on her.”

  “You don’t have to remind me. Is she allowed on the grounds?”

  “She can do anything but burn this house or escape.”

  Mrs. Fitz nods her head, continuing to prep breakfast for Jessie. I make my way to the garage, put the fob key to my new Range Rover in my pocket while hoping a week away will be enough time to regain control of my libido and for her to stew in my absence. Burn hot for me, so we can go off like a firework upon my return.

  With every mile the car swallows, taking me further away from her; my mind travels back, staying with the object of my obsession.

  Will I ever be free of her?

  My hands clench the wheel, remembering the brief glimpse of love and hope that filled the dark hole in me. For one moment in time, I was content. Whole.

  I could have that feeling back again but knowing it’s precarious; that it could all end at any second, has me steadfast in my reasoning. I won’t be turning back. But she must find a way to move forward. Because I want her fiery passion in my bed and I won’t accept anything less than her giving it all back to me.

  I try not to, but I’m unable to stop myself. My fingers tap the apps on my phone, until I find the tracker app connected to the device implanted under her wrist. She’s still in the barn? I’ve lost all ability to keep her out of my head. I swipe finding the app to the remote cameras I installed. She hasn’t found them yet, but they’re there, hidden in corners, under books, in the crease of a curtain…all recording her every move. Now, I stare at my phone as I connect to the camera in the barn, tucked under a beam across from the stall where she sits for hours on the concrete floor everyday.

  Theos, she’s still too thin. I couldn’t miss how her ribs showed, how her breasts were smaller when I commanded her to strip last night. My hand jerks the wheel, pebbles spray up from my squealing tires as I hook the Rover around, pressing down hard on the gas. I’ve had enough of her self-pity party. She belongs to me; with me and it’s about time she gets over it.

  I wipe my tears on the back of my sleeve just as the barn doors slide open. My spine stiffens but gradually eases as Mrs. Fitz carries a clattering tray inside.

  “You didn’t have to bring this here. I was about to come inside.”

  She frowns, squinting in the dim inside light. “I have my orders.”

  “And you carry them out so well. What a natural sub you are,” I mutter under my breath.

  She stoops, placing the tray on the floor, eyes blazing. She hates me. Possibly more than I hate being here.

  “Why do you loathe me so much?”

  “You’re not good enough for him.”

  “Excuse me?” My head jerks back.

  “Mr. Devillo treats you like fine china. He’s an honorable man. Any woman would kill to trade places with you and all you do is pout, crying like a petulant child, and turning him away.”

  “You know nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are nothing but a brutish old hag. Tell me, are you drugging my supper? Stirring a sedative in my tea?”

  “No, my dear,” she smirks, “and isn’t the truth something you don’t want to hear? Your response to him is of your own accord.”

  “Who are you?”

  “He didn’t mention it?”

  I wait for her to go on.

  “I was his nanny, albeit a young one. I was eighteen when his mother hired me. He was about ten. I’ve served him ever since. I know all about his condition. There was nothing more heartbreaking than a lost little boy walking over these very grounds, talking to himself because he had no friends to converse with. He was labeled a freak of nature. The villagers thought he was cursed. But you know who he was…who he is…a man who needs more love than most. And by god, you better pick yourself up and give it to him. Because for some reason, it’s you. Only you can help him.”

  “I can’t help him. I tried.”

  “Did you? Did you try? Or did you fold the first-time things got hard. I bet you fancy yourself a strong independent woman…but it’s a façade. You’re weak. Too weak for him. A strong woman would’ve stood by him, helped him when he needed it; even as he self-destructed.”

  “You don’t know a damn thing!” I spring to my feet, get in her face and push the plump middle-aged woman against the opposite stall. “He did unspeakable things to me. Treated me like a bug, that he had no problem squashing under his heel. I hate him. I want to go home!”

  “Aww, does the poor little poppet want her mommy?” The bitch taunts me as I felt myself tumbling, my emotions that I held so tightly locked since that night, gushes out like a tidal wave. I slap her stupid face hard.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Christos stands with his feet apart, fists in his pockets as he glares at the two of us.

  “Nothing, my lord. I was just serving Miss Jessie her breakfast.”

  “Bullshit! Fire her Christos. I can’t stand her.”

  “You are in no position to make demands my pet. But how refreshing it is to see you have your temper back.”

  “Fuck you!�
� I spit, kicking the tray, uncaring the food and hot tea spills everywhere. I grab a pitchfork, swinging it around. “Don’t come any closer. I swear I’ll kill you this time. I hesitated during the storm, I could’ve pushed harder.”

  “But you didn’t, sweet dove. Go ahead, stab me with it. Kill me, pierce my black heart and wait to see if it even bleeds.” He holds his arms wide, stepping forward. “But you still won’t be free of me agápe. I’ll haunt you. My ghost will slide over your body, peppering you with phantom touches you can’t fight. My ghost will take you and you’ll call out my name as you cry, frustrated I’m not there in the flesh making you mine.”

  “Gah, I hate you!” I scream racing forward. But I can’t do it. The pitchfork clanks as it falls. He grabs me, spins me around, pinning my wrists above my head. We don’t speak as our mouths and tongues duel.

  His powerful hips surge forward, pressing me back against the wall. “Feel how much I want you, Jessie.”

  I pry my mouth from his. “As much as you wanted her?” I drip with sarcasm, but my eyes speak to his, wanting to know.

  “I never loved her. You know your destruction was my high, not her body.”

  “Did you even love me? Or was that just another part of your sick game?”

  He lowers his eyes, releases my hands as he plants both his hands on the stall door on either side of my head. “I did love you. For a second I loved you.” His eyes raise, burning with sincerity as he gazes at me five inches away.

  “What happened? Why? Please, I need to know why you did that to me?” My voice cracks, “After everything…how close we were…,” I choke out.

  He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. And I’ll never lose control like that again. I swear.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Never.”

  “Why?”