Val chuckled again and leaned forward.
“You are allowed to cum now, Serena,” Val said. “Be my little slut and cum for me, show me what a little whore you are.”
Serena came hard and fast, thrashing underneath Val’s strong grip and merciless tongue. Her heartbeat seemed to stop and her mind went numb, and all of her existence was trapped in the earthquake of an orgasm that Val pulled her into.
The last thing she remembered was the world floating away from her as she passed out.
*****
Serena woke up with fluttering eyes against the bright morning sun. She groaned and shielded them with her arm, rolling over and burying her face into a pile of pillows. Today felt glorious. She never remembered her bed feeling this deliciously warm or soft or silky or….
Wait, silk? What? She didn’t have silk sheets.
Serena shot up out of bed and looked around her, bewildered. She was in a strange room full of sumptuous furniture—there was a carafe of amber liquid on a table in the corner, and a leather belt hanging on the bedside, and cufflinks on the dresser to the side of her….
She suddenly felt a strong ache between her legs and looked down, the memories from last night flooding back to her. Oh God, it really happened, didn’t it? It wasn’t just a filthy dream of hers?
Serena clutched a pillow to her chest, biting her lip again. She tasted blood and grimaced. Apparently the lip biting had started to get out of hand. Yet another thing she might have to keep in check, lest some discipline come her way.
She rubbed her eyes and attempted to step out of bed, but her legs were Jell-O and there was no way she could walk. She fell back down onto the bed, groaning at her own ridiculousness. How could she have gotten into this?
Harry. Harry was how, of course. And she had to keep going, because Harry needed her.
Though deep inside, she had to admit to herself, there was something else there, wasn’t there? Had Val been right when he told her there was something nice and twisted inside her? She squeezed her eyes shut, the memories of last night flooding back and threatening to drown her. Oh God, she was horrified by them, by how she had acted. Had she really said some of those things? Had she really wanted him to spank her with a belt and beg him to let her cum?
Panicking, she leapt out of bed, grabbing one of the bedposts for support. She hobbled on wobbly legs to the dresser, pulling it open and snatching the first she saw—her abandoned black dress from last night, haphazardly shoved into it. She slipped it on, her heartbeat picking up as more memories came back to her. God, she would die of embarrassment, she knew it. She had to get out of here. What if Val came back? How could she face him after she had acted like that last night?
There really was something dark and twisted inside her, she realized. And that terrified her. She didn’t want to face it.
She didn’t bother trying to find the heels, she hated them anyway. She slipped out of the bedroom, taking the discrete passageway that Jacques had described to her last night, finding her way out the back of the mansion.
For a moment, just before she opened the back door, she hesitated. Was this really what she wanted? To leave? She imagined Val’s face when he came back and realized she was gone and had left him forever. Could she really do that to him?
Serena shook her head, shooing away those thoughts. She couldn’t handle them right now. All she could do was go back to her tiny apartment, where she wasn’t constantly reminded of Val or the things that he could do to her. But most importantly, she wouldn’t be reminded of the things that were inside her, the things she wasn’t willing to face.
Serena slipped out the back, vowing never to return.
*****
“Back so soon, Serena?”
Serena hung up her coat on the rack near her apartment’s door, glancing over her shoulder to smile at her neighbor, Mrs. Cole. She stood in the hallway, wiping her flour-dusted hands on a kitchen towel and smiling inquisitively.
“I know, I know,” Serena said with a shrug. “I didn’t think I’d be back so early either.”
“I thought you got a job though, sweetie? Didn’t you say you’d be gone for a while?”
“I … well, I thought I got it. It turned out we—I mean the job and me—we weren’t a good fit for each other.” She shrugged again, keeping her lips squeezed shut tight, afraid to say anything more.
“Oh, honey,” sighed Mrs. Cole, leaning against her doorframe. She watched Serena unpack her purse, smiling sadly for her and the lost job.
“Well, at least you have a new boyfriend,” Mrs. Cole teased.
“What?” Serena froze.
“Your boyfriend, honey. He stopped by earlier. Said that you two just started dating. He said something else about dropping off something for you, not sure what.”
“He was here?” Serena said numbly.
“I thought you knew, sweetie. He came over this morning, asking for directions to your apartment. We had a lovely conversation, he’s a very sweet boy. He had a key to your apartment, so I assumed you had told him to come.”
Boyfriend? Here? Serena clutched her key tight in her fist, wishing she could run away and never come back.
“Anyway, I don’t think he’s left yet, either. You might check the bedroom,” she said with a wink. Serena nodded, still numb. Boyfriend. Here. Bedroom. Okay.
Serena closed her door with a click and leaned back against it. What was she going to do? Was Val really here? How would she explain to him that she couldn’t keep doing this?
She walked into her kitchen and was shocked at who she saw sitting at the table. Especially because it wasn’t Val.
“Jacques?” Serena cried.
Jacques sat sprawled at one of her kitchen chairs, inspecting her salt shaker as if it held a mysterious puzzle. He was dressed casually, but a leather briefcase sat on the table, full of papers and what looked like a brown package. Serena walked in in a daze, dropping her purse on the counter. The sound made Jacques turn, and he gave her a dazzling smile.
“Good morning, Screamer.”
Serena crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Val asked me to stop by. Imagine his surprise when he stops by the bedroom to bring you breakfast and his bed is empty.” Jacques gave her an exaggerated pout. “That wasn’t very nice, Screamer. Especially considering he’s your master.”
“So he thought he’d send over a buddy to corral me back?”
Jacques shrugged. “Not to intrude in your private life, but he’s your master. It’s in the contract.”
Serena began to say something but stopped herself.
“What?” asked Jacques.
Serena sighed. “I don’t think he’s going to be my master much longer. And I don’t think I’m going to be doing much slaving,” she said, taking a seat next to him. The chair creaked, reminding her of how pitiful her small apartment was compared to the massive mansion that Val owned. For a fleeting moment, she missed it, but shook that thought from her mind. She had decided, there was no going back.
“What’s wrong?” Jacques asked, cocking his head.
“I don’t think I can do this, Jacques,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s not for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It scares me.”
“The … erm, bondage?”
“No.” She pursed her lips. “The way I react to it.”
Jacques was silent for a moment, and then he laughed out loud. Serena frowned.
“What?” she said.
“You, Screamer.” He stretched, watching her with a lazy smile. “You pretend to be such a good girl, you run as far away as you can from anything dark. But if you admit it to yourself, you want it. I can already tell you’re going to go back. Val was right.”
“Val talked about me?”
Jacques just shrugged. “Val talks about a lot of things. And he does appreciate you, Serena. Especially with the Harlow deal coming up—” Jacques immediately cut himself
off, as if he had realized he had said something he shouldn’t have.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, Jacques, seriously, what?”
Jacques paused, looking Serena up and down. He tapped his chin for a few moments, considering something.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, “if you tell me why you chose this job. I’ve been wondering about you, Screamer, I’ll be honest, and I think you deserve to know about this even if Val doesn’t want you to. This has to remain completely between us, though. Deal?”
Serena considered it. She hated breaking someone’s confidence, but if she was really going to be Val’s slave, she deserved to at least know this. Especially if Jacques seemed to consider it something important enough to tell her.
“Deal.”
Jacques nodded, then sat back and appraised her. “So what’s the real reason you’re doing this? I know it isn’t the money. You’re not that kind of person, I don’t think. And I know it’s not the sex, though I can tell you are that kind of person, even if you won’t admit it.” Serena rolled her eyes, and Jacques grinned. “So what is it? Why are you doing this?”
Serena pursed her lips. “My brother.”
“Honey, you’re kinkier than I give you credit for.”
Serena gagged. “Please. Not like that.”
“So like what?”
Serena sighed. “Like he made a bad decision and he’s in trouble. He’s not a bad kid, but he’s an idiot. He took a job with a business that turned out to be a gang, and when he lost one of the bags they were smuggling—God knows what it was, I think it was coke—they took him. And the only way to get him back is to scratch together five hundred grand by the end of the year.” She rubbed her temples. “Hell knows how I’m going to do it since I’ve given up this job. But I have to.”
“Go on.”
“No, you go on,” Serena answered, not wanting to keep talking about Harry and be reminded of how much in danger he was. “Quid pro quo. I want to know what the Harlow thing is.”
Jacques smiled. “Anybody ever tell you you’d do good in business, Screamer? I think I’m seeing why Val likes you.”
Jacques leaned forward, pulling out a paper from his briefcase. He handed it to Serena, who read the top line:
HARLOW GROUP TO MR. VALENTINE MARQUETTE.—CONCERNING BELLADONNA.
“Belladonna?”
“Yes, Belladonna. And yes, Harlow Group.”
He studied her expression, as if he was looking for something. She stared at him blankly, obviously not getting it. He smirked and leaned back, apparently figuring out that she really had no idea.
“And why is this so important? And secret?” she said.
“Because the Harlow Group isn’t as legitimate as it sounds, and the Belladonna deal is definitely, definitely not legal. And because Fuck knows why Val’s getting himself into this, because he’s smarter than that. There’s something going on here, I know it.”
“But what’s the Harlow Group?”
Jacques wrestled with a decision in his mind, but then nodded to himself. “I suppose I can tell you, you’ll find out anyway. It’s the ‘group’—though ‘gang’ would be more appropriate—let by Ian Harlow.”
“Val’s old business partner?”
Jacques paused, his suspicious look back again.
“How do you know that?”
“Google. I did my research before signing onto this.”
Jacques grinned again. “Of course you did. And so of course you’ll know about Harlow’s fall due to Val’s exposing his criminal empire to the police. And you’ll know that Harlow would like nothing more than to see Val gutted and hung dead in the public square. Point is, Harlow recently got out of prison, and word is he’s gunning for Val.”
“I had figured as much. But what’s Belladonna?”
Jacques’ cautious expression came back. “You don’t need to know about that. If Val hasn’t told you already, you really don’t need to know. Can’t say anything more than that, and you need to keep it a secret that I even let you know the name, alright? You’d do best to forget it completely.”
Serena stared at him. “You’re going to hang this in front of my face and then refuse to say what it is?”
Jacques laughed. “True. But if Val hasn’t told you about it already, you don’t need to know. And you don’t need to tell him I told you.”
“What if I do?” she asked, a dangerous note in her voice. “If you won’t tell me, maybe Val will….”
Jacques glared at her for a moment, his expression suddenly dangerous. But then he thought about it and shrugged. “You could, but he’d send you away in an instant.”
“What?”
“If Val doesn’t want you to know, he really doesn’t want you to know. The second he found out you knew, you’d be gone in an instant. No money, no chance to see him ever again. That would be it. I’m not just saying you should forget it for my sake, I’m saying it’s for your sake too. If you value your relationship with Val, you need to forget about it all.”
“He’d leave me forever?” she repeated. The idea of that did something strange to her, made her go cold in the deepest, most private part of her. It scared her like nothing else.
Jacques grinned at her.
“What?” she said.
“You. Look at how terrified you are by that. You run away like you never want to see him again. But when you actually think of never seeing him again, you hate the idea of it.” He shook his head. “I’m telling you, Serena. You two are far more into each other than either of you admit.”
Serena frowned, uncomfortable. “Whatever. Are you sure there’s nothing more you can tell me?”
“About Harlow and the Belladonna thing? No. You need to forget it. And I’m not just saying that—everything you know about them is going to put you in danger, and I mean that. But Val did say I should tell you about this.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out the brown paper package that Serena had seen earlier. It wasn’t very large, but it was well wrapped in string, and Serena began burning with curiosity.
“This is from Val,” he said, placing it on the table and pushing it over. “He wants to read it after I’m gone.”
“He’s not going to come over?”
Jacques shrugged. “I think he knows this is an argument you have with yourself, not him.”
Serena took the package, feeling how light and pliable it was, wondering what it held inside it.
“He said it’ll tell you everything you need to know,” said Jacques. “When you’re ready, he’ll be waiting back at the mansion. And, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere.”
Jacques stood and began gathering his papers and suitcase. Serena continued to examine the package.
“Jacques?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think I should trust Val?”
Jacques smiled.
“I’ve always trusted him, just like he always trusts me. What I think you need to figure out is if you trust yourself.”
Jacques winked at her and walked out the door.
Serena ran a hand down the package, trying to discern its contents from feeling. She slipped a finger under the string that held it together, snapping it against the paper. Did she really want to open it and see what Val had sent her? She swallowed hard. On the one hand, last night had scared her. No, she had scared herself with the way she had loved it. But on the other, there was something irresistible about Val, something that drew her to him even when she resisted with all her will.
Serena took a deep breath, then reached for a knife and began cutting away at the string.
She unwrapped the first layer of paper, but underneath it was only another layer. She carefully peeled that one away, only to find another layer underneath it. Frustrated, Serena began tearing away the layers of crumpled paper, searching for something, anything. But she found nothing. By the time she was done, her table top was covered in a mess of brown paper and cut string, with nothin
g to show for it.
Serena groaned, throwing down the last bit of paper in annoyance. It sent a gust of wind, and something crisp and white fluttered off the table to the floor. Serena paused. She hadn’t seen that when she was unwrapping the package.
Serena pushed her chair out and reached down for it. It was a small note, folded carefully and taped shut. Serena peeled away the tape and unfolded it, smoothing it out across the table top. Written in perfect fountain pen calligraphy in Val’s perfect handwriting were five words:
You know you want to.
For a moment, Serena was breathless.
Those words. Oh God, those words. ‘You know you want to.’ Serena leaned against the wall, weak. Her head slipped to the table, and she threw her arms over her to block out the light, totally worn out. She remembered the first time she had seen the ad in the newspaper, the first time she had read those words and felt something move in her.
Did she want to? She remembered the passionate night with Val, the way he had seduced and inflamed her. And then she remembered the embarrassing morning after, running away like a scared child, ashamed of the way she had acted the night before. So did she really?
She felt the sane voice in her mined scream no.
But something dark inside her hissed yes.
*****
“So you came back.”
Serena’s breath caught as she turned around from her seat in the waiting room. Ellen, the head maid, a motherly red-headed woman in a black dress, had directed her. Don’t worry, I’ll fetch Mr. Marquette … he’s been waiting for you, she had said with a wink. Serena hadn’t been sure she wanted her to, but at the same time, she knew she’d never really be able to get away. Everything about Valentine Marquette consumed her.
Val walked into the room, pulling his sleeves up. Serena stood immediately; it was almost an instinctual action now, like it had always been a part of her to be with Val. She lowered her gaze as he approached her, ashamed of having run out in the morning without any warning. She knew how childish it must have seemed. She felt heat rise to her cheeks and lowered her head further, hoping her hair would cover it.
Temptation: a billionaire erotic romance Page 4
