by J. L. Beck
My only answer to that is a snort. He’s harmed me plenty since I got here. I have a cascade of bruises all down my backside, and I can’t say I regret a single one of them. Especially with the memory of his heavy weight on top of me so fresh in my mind.
I wiggle on the desk in the hope it will urge him on.
He swats my ass, and I shudder as the sting of his palm sinks into my skin. “I’ll give you my cock when I’m ready. Until then, be fucking patient.”
My breath creates a semi-circle of dampness in front of my mouth. I focus on breathing and watching it grow farther and farther with each exhale. It’s the only reason I don’t jump out of my skin when his finger prods the tight circle of my ass.
I suck in a gasp and peer at him over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
The glare he returns is full of heat and dark promise. It sets my legs quivering and my heart beating hard. I swallow heavily but maintain eye contact.
“You’re tight, and I want to be as gentle as possible with you. I need to loosen you up before we do this.”
It takes me a couple of tries to get the words out. “But my ass? You want to fuck my ass?”
His devastatingly devious smile tells me I should have realized that the moment he volunteered to divest me of my virginity. “You want someone to fuck you, so I’ll fuck you. But since you’ve been misbehaving so badly, I’m not going to give you the pleasure of fucking your cunt, yet.” His gaze hardens. “And just so we’re on the same page. If I see you throwing yourself at Soo or Lucas again, I will strip you naked and dump you with my guards. They’ll more than make sure every single one of your holes are filled. Are we clear on that?”
I nod quickly, still watching him. He drops his gaze down my body, and then a stream of liquid follows. Oil, or lube, I think, since I can’t see the bottle, coats the seam of my ass, down my thighs, and even the top of my back as he rubs it into my skin.
I’m shaking, shivering. This is not what I wanted, not like this. The idea of him nudging me open with his cock and sliding it back there—I shudder again. It shouldn’t fill me with warm, sticky heat.
“You’re shaking. Is it because I threatened you?” he says from behind me.
He’s rimming that tight little pucker with his thumb, slowly working it inside with each pass. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m still scared. I’m not sure what I expected. Whatever hole he uses, it’s going to be the first time.
He lays his body over the top of my back, his face almost against my ear. When he takes my earlobe between his teeth, I jump against him, and he moans at the contact. “You brought this upon yourself, stellina. You acted like a little slut, throwing yourself at my brother. Now I’m going to treat you like one.”
A thrill settles in my nerves, an adrenaline rush with an oh so needy chaser as my body betrays me. I want him. Despite everything, I want him to touch me. I want my captor, and I think that’s the worst part of all of this. That I want someone who only sees me as revenge.
“I’ll make you feel so good,” he assures me. His breath is hot down the shell of my ear and onto my neck. “I’ll make you scream my name before the end. I promise you.”
Pleasure, I want, but I won’t scream his name, no matter how good it feels. I force myself to stay so still my muscles clench tight with sheer control.
“You have doubts,” he proclaims. I can hear the smile in his voice and glance up to meet his eyes. It’s nothing more than a wry twist of his lips, but still devastating.
He shoves upward, his focus already shifted to my ass again. I whimper as he inserts his thumb, carefully working the slick digit against my muscles. It still doesn’t hurt, and a slow curling heat is building in my core again. Damn, I hate when he’s right. I hate it all, hate how much a part of me craves him, how every nerve in my body reacts when he touches me. He makes me feel alive, more alive than I have ever felt before.
After a few moments of me regulating my breathing and trying not to whimper underneath him, he carefully adds a second finger to his probing. I exhale a gust of air onto the desk, and it clouds around my face in a halo.
“Doing okay, stellina?” he asks, seemingly from far away.
“Yes,” I croak out. Adding a nod in case he can’t hear me.
His dark chuckle tells me he did. He slides his free hand around my front, shoving my legs wider to delve his fingers into my pussy. A hiss escapes him against the center of my spine. “You’re soaked. So fucking wet, it’s dripping down my fingers.”
He renews his attention to my ass, this time adding a third finger. When I flinch away, he soothes his hand down my ribs. “Relax, just relax into it, and it won’t hurt. There you go. Let me prepare you so you can take my cock.”
I settle back down on my feet and again try to regulate my breathing. Trying to relax is impossible with the incessant throb of my clit with every brush of his dick between my thighs.
“Please,” I whisper, hating myself even as I beg for it.
He gives me another tight squeeze of my ass cheeks. “You’re almost there. Then I’ll give you what you want. Can you already feel me inside? I can. I’ll try to be gentle, but I can’t guarantee anything once I fight the tight clasp of your asshole around my cock. You make me fucking crazy.”
I jolt in surprise at his admission. He’s always been either completely indifferent around me or using my body to get his own pleasure. The idea that someone like me could drive this man, this monster, to distraction leaves me full of pride. This must be how Stockholm syndrome starts. But it can’t be; I’m not unreasonably convinced he’s a good, perfect man. Nicolo is nothing more than a monster. I guess I’m just the type of girl who needs a monster to make her feel like this.
I don’t know if it will be worth it in the end, but for now, with my knees knocking against the desk and his hot, soothing body against mine, it feels too good to stop.
He removes his fingers from my ass, and I follow him backward until he stops me. “Let me lube us both up a little more, and then I’ll give you everything.”
The word everything from his lips sounds like a promise. One he’ll keep, no matter the cost.
I wiggle in answer, pressing up onto my tiptoes. We have a height difference, but he tosses me around like I weigh nothing. I want him to lift me up, like he did the other day, and pound into me until I have bruises on my hip bones.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers.
I don’t know if I was supposed to hear it, but for the second time, I’m clenching my pussy in anticipation, and it’s not even the part of me getting all the attention.
The broad head of his cock sliding along my ass drags me from my thoughts. He gently nudges the head of his cock into my puckered hole, and I try to remain still and calm. Inside I’m thrashing, and outside everything is tight and coiled.
He runs a hand down my spine, almost soothingly. “Settle down, or I’m going to come before I’m even all the way inside you. You’re squeezing me so tight.”
I whimper and dig my fingers into the desk. I can’t resist anymore and slide one hand under my hips to catch my clit with my fingers.
Just as I make contact, he grabs my hand in a bruising grip and removes it. “No, I told you I’d make you feel good. If you need me to touch your clit then tell me, and I will.”
“Please.” It comes out harsh, but it is all I can manage.
He drops my wrist on top of the desk and angles me so he can guide his cock inside my body with one hand and cup my pussy with the other. I’m almost completely off the desk and against him now.
I wriggle back into him and enjoy the curse he spits out. It hurts as he makes progress, too slowly, but it hurts the way it did when he fucked my face, and the way it did when he came on my belly. It hurts, but I want more, need more.
His finger makes a lazy swirl over my clit, and I sink into the sensation. The assault and the coaxing, the edge of pain, and the slow lazy sparks of pleasure washing through me.
When h
is hips meet my backside, I can’t stay still. I feel stuffed full of him, his hard body around mine, inside me, over me. It’s too much, and I realize I’m panting, little wet puddles onto the desk in front of my lips.
“You feel so good,” he groans.
He pulls out, as achingly slow as he entered. But I don’t want slow. I can’t take slow. I need more.
“Please, just fuck me,” I plead, my face burning in a wash of shame. I’m absolutely begging, and I can’t bring myself to care now.
He increases his pace, pulling almost all the way out, and then nudging back inside my tight ass. I clench around him, moving, thrusting, doing anything I can to gather up the sensations and shove them deeper, feel him deeper.
“I liked when you were greedy for my cock in your mouth. I like it even more as you squirm for my cock in your ass. I wonder what you’d do if I put it in your tight little cunt. Would you beg then too?”
I moan at the thought of him fucking my pussy next.
He picks up his pace, both in the maddening swirl of his fingers on my clit and the slide of his cock into my asshole. Each pass is achingly gentle, and I hate every single one, even as I chase him for the next. He’s toying with me, punishing me, like he promised.
This time when he pulls almost all the way out of me, he’s so focused on where we join, I shove back into him, almost taking all of him inside me in one smooth toe-numbing stroke.
He barks out a strangled sound, his hands bracing on the desk beside my hips to still us both. “You’re playing with fire, princess,” he growls.
If fire feels this good, then it can burn me to ash.
I settle my hand on my clit again and glance at him over my shoulder. “Just do it! The way I know you want to. I can feel you holding back. Just fuck me, please, Nicolo.”
It’s me saying his name that’s his undoing.
He grabs my hips, one hand on either side, and lifts me so high my feet hang above the ground. Then, even though he’s mostly already inside me, he shoves deeper, so deep it feels like he’s reached the end of me.
Then he pulls out and sets a brutal pace. I rub my clit harder and faster with each thrust, whimpering, groaning, struggling in his hold. None of it matters as my orgasm sparks inside me, my clit tightening against my finger as I move faster, always faster, and harder.
He keeps going, slamming into my ass hard and deep. I can feel his balls at the back of my thighs and the coarse hair above his cock against my skin. He’s imprinted on my body, maybe even joined me in my skin.
With each thrust, he grunts until his own breath is shuttling in and out of him in heavy heaving gasps. “Come for me, stellina. Now.”
Somehow my body obeys, and I shatter into a thousand brittle shards, my hand slowing on my slit until I can’t even see or think straight. Pleasure zings through me, followed by a soft groan from him. I don’t understand the things I’m feeling. Why does his deep voice sound so good when he makes those noises?
He thrusts harder still, slamming into me until he freezes with a loud grunt. His fingers dig into my skin with bruising force as he comes, and his thighs shake as he holds himself into my body.
Carefully, almost reverently, he settles me on my feet, holding me tight against him, as he ensures my knees will hold up. I’m not convinced, but he is, and when he lets go, I flop belly first onto the desk.
At some point, I feel a warm towel against my skin, but then it goes hazy. I think I’m lifted and carried somewhere. I drift into darkness, only to wake up a moment later when I’m placed on something soft.
On instinct, I curl up, reveling in the fresh linen scent and silky fabric against my heated skin. Something warm and hard presses against my body, and that’s the last thing I notice before sleep drags me under completely.
24
Nic
I wake up with a tingle in my arm, letting me know the limb is stiff and blood flow sparse. Looking down at the sleeping form curled into my side, I find Celia. Her soft, pink lips are parted, and her angelic features are softened in the early morning light. Right now, she isn’t afraid, isn’t tense, or trying to fight me. She is an angel, and how mocking is it that I’m the devil?
An inky darkness cloaks me as a dull ache spreads through my chest with one glance. My heart thunders against my ribs, amplifying the pain, and I can’t ever remember a time when it beat this hard before. So soft, fragile, and trusting. That’s how she appears, like a sleeping lamb in the pasture while the big bad wolf lurks at the edge of the woods. If only I was a better man, a man that wasn’t so dead set on revenge. Maybe things could be different?
I have to squish the thought before it builds into something more. Today her entire world will change, and I suppose, given all these fucking thoughts coursing through me at the sight of her, so will mine. I don’t allow myself to dwell on things that can’t be changed, and I ignore the pain slicing through my chest.
I shift my legs against hers and realize the blankets are wound between her bare legs. When she fell asleep on top of my desk, I carried her back to my bed, even though I knew I should have tucked her into hers. For one night, I wanted the scent of her hair on my pillows, to fall asleep intertwined with my knee shoved between her thighs.
I gently climb out of bed and study her. She flays herself out when she sleeps like the entire bed is hers. In the middle of the night, she curled up on my chest like a small animal seeking shelter and warmth, and I didn’t stop her. Instead, I kissed her forehead and watched her sleep. Watched as she took comfort in my presence instead of wanting to stab me with something or back talk me. It often takes hours for me to fall asleep, and even when I do, it’s only for a few hours at a time. With her in my arms, I slept more than I have in years. I don’t want to think that it’s her that helped me, but it’s hard to deny.
With one final glance at her peacefully sleeping body, I leave her in my bed and go to the bathroom to get ready for the day. One steaming hot shower later, and I feel revitalized. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step into the bedroom to grab clean clothes and find that she’s rotated onto her side, the blankets curled up underneath her, one thigh spread over the top lump like she wants to open her thighs around a lover’s legs. Fuck. Her shapely thighs wrapped around my head as I eat her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner play out in my mind. It takes all my carefully cultivated discipline to walk out of my bedroom to head into my office.
It still smells of sex, and I’ll never be able to look at my desk again without seeing her on top of it. I don’t look at where I fucked her last night, but I open the windows to let the chilly morning air refresh the room before Sarah stops in with my breakfast.
I focus on the paperwork and the plan Soo must have left on my desk during the night. It’s a stack of papers as thick as my thumb. Each page shows the men and women who are attending tonight’s auction. Also, where their allegiances lie and how to sweet talk them. I’ve never been the sweet-talking type, but I’ve learned in order to finish this mission.
The thought of revenge, finally, after so many years, seems like a hazed dream. Something I’ve wished for over and over is finally within my grasp. And I can’t let whatever I feel for Celia jeopardize it. I’m a big enough man to accept I have feelings. How can I not when she’s everything I want in a woman? So giving of herself, even to a monster like me. It doesn’t matter though, she’s going up for sale, and then I’ll come down on her family and tear it apart—blood for blood. There’s no other way. In the end, at least I’ll have spared her an untimely death. At least with putting her up for auction, I’ll have saved her. I don’t know what the future holds for her, but maybe she will escape her new owner?
She’s stubborn enough to succeed. That’s if her mouth doesn’t get her killed. The mere thought of her dead, of her flesh bruised, and her eyes vacant of life sends me into a mental tailspin. Red hot rage bubbles in my veins. I want to kill anyone who ever harms her, even if I have no right to.
I can’t think of it. Can’
t think of what’s going to happen to her. When she is gone, she’ll be gone from my mind as well. It’s the way it has to be.
As if she knows that I’m thinking about her, she comes tiptoeing into my office wearing one of my shirts, an impish grin on her face. She is the image of beauty, sultry and intoxicating. Her dark curls hang down past her breasts, her hard nipples poke under the fabric, leaving little to the imagination. I want to suck one of the hard peaks into my mouth and finish what I couldn’t earlier by sinking my cock deep inside her. No! Conflict rages inside me like a battle scorn country caught between good and evil.
One thing is certain though, the second she walked into this room, I could feel her. Like she’d straddled my lap and left me panting in her wake.
Once the image enters my mind, I wave my hand at her to approach. “Come here, stellina. I want to touch you.”
She crosses the room with her chin tucked, as if she isn’t sure how to act today. I draw her into me and lift her over my legs, so her thighs rest on either side of mine.
“Good morning,” she whispers.
I cup her ass and drag her into me, wishing her naked skin slid across mine in this position. “Go get some breakfast and then go back to bed. You’ll need your rest. I rode you hard yesterday.”
A flash of pink washes into her cheeks, and I can’t help but see it in my mind, all the way to her belly button.
“Are we going to do it again?” There’s a note of hope in her tone that I don’t have it in me to squash.
“Not right now. I have to get some work done. Busy day today.”
She wiggles in my lap suggestively, and I still her hips in my hands. “Are you sure? We could go back to bed right now? I’ll—”
“As much as I would enjoy spending the morning in bed with you, I can’t.” I try to keep my tone gentle. Knowing that the moment she realizes I’m still selling her, she’ll start hating me again. I’ll deal with it, but it doesn’t mean I want to hasten the moment.
