by Maisey Yates
“I asked.”
“Cover yourself,” he said, his voice rough.
“Why?”
“Because I...I can’t think with you standing there like that.” With his past bleeding into his present. The darkness covering all the beautiful light Leah had given him last night.
“Maybe you don’t need to think.”
She took a step toward him and he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Did you hear nothing of what I just told you? Of who I am?”
“The son of a violent horrible criminal. And maybe if I hadn’t known you for most of my life, maybe it would affect me. But I have seen your actions, Ajax, for years. I watched you work your way from the doing grounds work, to being an assistant to my father. Then, a trusted advisor before you were eighteen. I saw how my father believed in you, sent you to school, brought you on as an intern at Holt. I saw his faith in you, and I saw you never disappoint that faith. And my sister...you never laid a hand on her. Never hurt her. You wanted to honor her with marriage vows. And me. A silly kid who followed you around and talked about candy...you listened to me. No, Ajax, when I look at you I don’t see a monster.”
“You’ve never seen me without my plan. My control.”
“Sure I have. Our wedding day.”
She leaned in, her lips brushing his, and he leaned back. “Not now.” He could tell her. He could tell her what it looked like when he really lost control. Or he could show her.
He was tempted. To lay her down in the sand and claim her, hard, fast, taking and satisfying the never-ending hunger in him. To try to fill the blackness with her light.
But he would not. Because if he let it go, even for a moment, with her, he might never get it back. Might never be able to subdue it, subdue himself, again.
“Don’t,” he bit out.
“Why?”
For one moment, his mind was moving too fast, his blood flowing too hot to formulate an answer. And then she reached out and put her palm flat on his chest, the heat and fire that assaulted him nearly too much to endure.
And he was pulling her against him, breasts crushed against his chest, his mouth crushed against hers. And he needed. Blind need, deeper, more all-consuming than anything had ever been.
Like the craving for a drug. Altering, impossible to resist. It pushed him to the edge, held him there, threatening to send him over. Into the abyss. He wanted to jump. Wanted to follow this desire straight to hell and drag her with him if he had to, so long as he could get what he needed.
So long as he could get his fix.
He pulled back, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. He started to speak but he couldn’t form any words. So he just turned and left her there, on the beach, in nothing but her bikini bottoms.
And for the first time in his memory, he had no plan.
CHAPTER TEN
AJAX SAT AT the foot of the bed, a scarf stretched between his fists. He’d been thinking, all afternoon and until the sun went down, about what he would do with Leah. What he could do with her. She was his wife—there was no getting around that. A wife he’d promised to make a marriage with...but when she touched him it all went blank.
He couldn’t see the path up ahead anymore. All he could see was those whiskey-colored eyes. Eyes that had tested him years ago. Had enticed him into something he hadn’t identified. Something he’d forced himself to turn away from. And now, he was bewitched by them again. And couldn’t hold on to his control. He could only see her.
The problems really started when she touched him. It had to stop.
If he could just keep some of the control. If he could take the variables away and have all the power. All the power and Leah’s naked body, spread out before him. To take pleasure in, to give pleasure to.
One time with her and he was on his way to obsession.
She’d asked him if he would have shared Rachel’s bed. He was pretty certain he’d lied. That he would have shared Rachel’s bed because it was something a husband did with a wife.
And because Rachel wouldn’t have challenged his control in the same way that Leah did. He had always known that.
Leah walked in the front door of the villa, dressed in her swimsuit and cover-up, and the truth hit him full on. He had always known it would be like this. That Leah was the one who would wake up the monster.
She tugged at the flowing fabric on the cover-up, stretching it over her breasts. He’d been half hoping she would come through wearing nothing but bikini bottoms but he was disappointed on that front.
Was he disappointed? Yes. No point in pretending he didn’t want her. He did. More than he could remember wanting anything or anyone. The acquisition of Holt seemed like nothing now, not compared to the need to join his body to Leah’s.
She kept comparing his celibacy to her innocence. As if it united them somehow. As if they shared something. But she did not share in his darkness.
They were nothing alike. And she didn’t know what she was tempting.
And if he had his way, she never would.
He wrapped the scarf around his fist and tugged it so that it was taut, watching her through the curtain as she approached the bed, her hips swaying gently, each step she took tightening the desire in his stomach further.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“And you care why?”
“I’m your husband,” he said, the words scraping his throat raw.
“Oh, really. Well, you can’t just be my husband when it suits you, Ajax. You can’t shove me away on the beach and walk away then expect that you get to know the details of my whereabouts.”
“If something had happened to you?”
“I lived the first twenty-three years of my life without you in my pocket, I’m pretty sure I can handle the next twenty-three without you there, too.”
“Tell me, Leah, knowing everything you know about me—” he wrapped the scarf around his fist again, drawing his hands more tightly together “—do you still want me?”
She lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“Tell me,” he said, “exactly what you want from me.”
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again,” he said. “Restate your terms.” He had to know. He had to hear it again.
“You. In my bed. Children,” she said, adding more now, “support of my business. The expansion of Leah’s Lollies should be a priority.”
He pulled his fists as far from each other as he could, the fabric straining between them. “Done.”
“And what has this deal cost me? My soul?”
“I don’t want your soul, darling girl, I want your body.”
“I offered it. Freely.”
“On my terms.”
“And what,” she asked, her voice breathy, “are your terms?”
“You can’t touch me during sex.”
“That’s impossible,” she said.
“No, it’s not. When you touch me, when you push me too far too fast, I start to lose control, and that is unacceptable.”
“And you have a solution?”
“You said you could handle my darkness.” He stood from his position on the bed, the scarf still wrapped around his hands.
Her eyes fell to the scarf and shock flickered in the golden depths. Then, she raised her gaze to meet his, her tongue darting out slowly to moisten her lips. “Are you offering to show me the darkness?”
“No,” he said, his voice rough, “I aim to protect you from it.”
“How?”
“I need control.”
“How much?”
“All of it. Can you give me that? In bed, I need all of the control.”
Leah’s heart thundered in her head, her hands shaking, her entire body shaking, from the insid
e out. She felt like she might really be in over her head. Like she might have miscalculated. For the first time, when she looked at Ajax, she felt like she was looking at a stranger.
“Tell me what you want to do,” she said, knowing instinctively what it was he wanted. What he needed.
“I want to tie your hands.”
“And then what?”
“I’m going to pleasure you until you can’t think straight. Until you can’t string together a sentence. And then...and then I want to part your legs and lose myself in you.”
He was a stranger now. This raw, sexual part of him was something she’d never seen before. And it hit her, on the heels of the first thought, that this raw, sexual part of him was probably something no one but her had ever seen.
That it was probably something he’d never experienced, not when what he’d spoken of had been inexperienced couplings with prostitutes.
And she’d caused it to emerge.
Ajax was her dearest fantasy, her longest-held desire. He’d broken her heart, piece by piece for most of her life. With his obliviousness to her as a woman. The attention he gave to her sister. His engagement to her sister. His staunch refusal to show her any affection, any romance in their marriage.
And so right now, the need to have all of his attention focused on her, to be at his mercy, to be the subject of his dominance, was an answer to a fantasy that she couldn’t say no to.
Because in that moment, she saw it clearly. His need for the ties was a concession to her power. To her ability to shake his control.
She recognized the power in his need for her to submit.
No, Ajax would never love her. The disconnect between the man he was and the man she’d imagined him to be was a chasm so wide there was no bridge that could cross it.
But she could have this. Enjoy this. Why not? Why not at least get something out of this stupid obsession? These feelings that had done so much to define her life.
It felt like he owed her. In so many ways.
If she couldn’t have it all, if he couldn’t be the man she wanted, then maybe she could have this. She would have this. She would let him have total control, total command of her body, of her pleasure. She would have to stop protecting herself so much. Because there was no way to take everything he was giving if she was hiding behind a wall.
The reality that he couldn’t love her. That she shouldn’t love him...it should be protection enough.
She would take the pleasure he gave and she would keep it for herself.
She held her hands out in front of her. “Take me,” she said.
A dark light, like a black flame, flared in his eyes. He unwound the length of silk from his fists, slowly, achingly so. Then he started wrapping it around her wrists. Slow. Sensual. He made it tight, made it so she couldn’t move her hands. But she wanted the game. She didn’t need freedom. Didn’t want it. Not when captivity meant this.
“Tell me again,” he said, his hands moving, strong and sure, securing the knot.
“Take me.”
“Because?”
“Because I want you.” She knew he needed to hear that, even if she didn’t know why.
“On the bed,” he bit out.
She obeyed, sitting on the edge, her bound hands in her lap. He stroked her face with the back of his hand, along her jaw, slow, sweet. Possessive.
He moved his hands to the knot of her bikini top, and untied it in one deft motion before removing her bathing suit wrap, letting it fall to her waist, along with the top of her swimsuit.
She was bare to him again, but instead of looking shocked, he looked hungry.
“Do you want to see the sort of thing a man who hasn’t had sex in eighteen years is capable of?” he asked, his voice rough. “Do you want to see all that innocence you thought I had?”
And she knew he was going to make her pay for her comments on the beach. Make her pay in the best possible way. He lowered his head and drew her nipple deep into his mouth, sucking hard, and just like that, she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
She wanted to close her eyes, to sink into oblivion where there was only this, this pleasure, this feeling that ran deep and hot. But she forced her eyes to stay open, forced herself to look at him. To see Ajax, her dearest, most long-held fantasy, pleasuring her like this.
But he wasn’t done. He abandoned her breasts and tugged her bathing suit cover down her thighs, getting onto his knees before her. Then he took her bikini bottoms and undid the ties, sending the scrap of fabric to join her wrap on the floor.
“Open your legs,” he said.
And she was powerless to do anything but obey.
He settled between her thighs, pressing a kiss to her sensitive skin. The first touch of his tongue was like fire, white heat licking along her veins, a gasp catching in her throat.
“Lie back,” he said, commanding, “and put your hands over your head.”
She followed his orders, putting her hands over her head, her legs dangling over the bed. Then he gripped her legs and hooked them over his shoulders, pulling her against his mouth. The onslaught of sensation, of pleasure ripped through her. She was desperate to touch him, but she couldn’t, her hands held captive, just as he held her soul captive.
Everything in her was poised on the brink, waiting for release, sobbing for it, desperate for it.
He shifted and started to pleasure her with his hands as well as his lips and tongue, sliding a finger inside her, sending a shock wave through her. She was close, so close. And every time she would get ready to go over the edge, he would pull back, just enough, before starting again, pushing her higher each time.
“Ajax...I can’t. I can’t...”
“Yes, you can,” he said, sliding the flat of his tongue against her in time with the thrust of his fingers.
She rocked against him, trying to get herself the rest of the way there.
Then he moved away from her, leaving her buzzing and unsatisfied. “Not yet,” he said, his hands going to the buckle on his pants.
She was dying. She needed to touch him, to taste him. And she knew he wouldn’t let her.
He worked the belt through the loops slowly, then the button on the slacks, and the zipper. He tugged his shirt off over his head before shoving his slacks and underwear down lean hips, leaving him completely naked for her enjoyment.
Except she couldn’t touch him. Dammit. She was desperate, and she had a feeling he was enjoying it.
So much for feeling powerful. But, while she didn’t feel like she was in control, she definitely felt turned on. A good-enough quality of turned on, with the promise of a big-enough release that she was okay with feeling out of control.
In fact, part of her, a part of her she hadn’t known existed, relished it.
“Do you approve?” he asked.
“More than,” she said, sounding all breathless and shaky.
“Are you ready?”
“Not yet. I want to...I want to taste you,” she said, her eyes on his erection.
“No. Sorry, agape. That’s against the rules.”
“I want to break the rules,” she said.
“You will follow the rules, or I won’t allow you to come,” he said, his tone hard.
Her breath caught. “Oh.”
“Will you be good?”
“Yes,” she said, swallowing hard, her stomach tightening.
She noticed his hands didn’t shake quite so much as they had last time when he joined her on the bed. His fingertips grazed her cheekbones, the gesture surprisingly gentle considering the game they were playing.
He pulled her up all the way onto the bed, strong arms locked around her, holding her tight. She inhaled deeply. She was surrounded by Ajax, and she had never felt so at peace. Everything from before, th
e bindings on her wrists, melted away for one fleeting moment.
And then he was poised over her, her arms above her head, thrusting her breasts toward his lips. And he made the most of it, pleasure arrowing from her nipples down to the apex of her thighs.
“Now,” she said.
“No,” he said, “that’s not how this works.” He pressed his length against her slick folds, sliding it back and forth. She gasped, arching into him.
“Please.”
“That’s better.” He thrust his hips against her, the contact on her clitoris just right.
“Please,” she said again, knowing that if she made a command, he would only deny her again.
He pressed the head of his erection against the entrance to her body and pushed inside her slowly. Tears stung her eyes, tears of relief. She needed him. Needed the release.
And then she was caught up completely, drowning in his kisses, in the rhythm of his body moving against hers. Her blood was roaring in her ears, pleasure building in her, so much, too much. She didn’t think she could survive it.
“Please,” she whispered again, the word barely making a sound on her lips.
He thrust into her one last time, stiffening above her, his arousal pulsing inside of her as he spent himself, his orgasm taking him over at the same moment hers broke through her and dragged her under.
When she came back to herself, her hands were still over her head, her arms starting to fall asleep. And so was she.
“Would you?” she asked, lifting her bound hands.
He sat up quickly, untied her, then he stood. He looked...she couldn’t even quite put a word to it. Haunted maybe. Scared.
“I have work to do,” he said, an echo of last night. “I’ll join you when I’m finished.”
Leah lay back down, rubbing her wrists, watching him walk naked down into the living area. He sat on the couch that way, his forearms resting on his legs.
