by L. Steele
"Say it." He scowls, "I want to hear you.""
"You. Only you," I gasp. My insides twist and my core aches, even as moisture laces my cunt. "I need you."
Not like this.
Not like this.
"Like this," he hisses. "You want me on this stage. You want me to take you in front of everyone. You’re an exhibitionist.
I freeze. How did he guess that
"You want to be taken and broken, until you are set free. You want me to paint your insides with my cum, to rub my name into every pore of your body, say it…"
Yes.
Yes.
"You pushed me until I crossed the line, until there was no going back." His features twist. The blue in his eyes deepens until they seem almost black. "Say you want me to punish you, you want me to fuck your past right out of you," he snarls.
Goddam him for laying my soul bare in front of the world. My chin wobbles. My scalp itches. Why is this happening? Why did it have to turn out like this? I’m only doing what is needed to save myself and my friend… So why can’t he get on with it?
"Do it."
My voice emerges as if from far away. I wrap my legs around his waist, thrust my hips up.
11
Saint
* * *
Her wet heat sears up my shaft; my groin hardens and my spine tingles. My thighs flex, grow rigid. "Jesus, fuck." The growl rips out of me. I balance my weight on my elbows, peer into her eyes.
Angry green sears through me. Emerald, jade and all the fucking precious jewels in the world couldn’t compare to the brilliance in her eyes... And now what? I am waxing poetic?
"What are you waiting for?" Tears glitter in her eyes.
For me? For her? My heart squeezes. The hell? Why do I want to find out what’s making her come onto me, haunt my every step, force herself on me.? Almost as if she is under duress. I stiffen, my shoulder muscles tensing. Is that what this is? Is she trying to trap me somehow? But why? It doesn’t make any sense.
"This is what you want, right?" she seethes, her features a hard mask. "Me at your disposal. Well, here I am, so why don’t you take what I am offering and be done with it? Why don’t you—?"
I shake my head.
She blinks.
"Not like this." I pull back, everything in my body protesting. My pelvis jerks—wanting, needing to be inside of her. Not yet.
Her mouth opens and closes. "Wh…what are you doing?"
I lock my muscles, push up and off of her. "You can’t top from the bottom, sweetheart."
She scowls, then glances away.
I pinch her chin. She peers up at me from under her eyelashes.
"Guess what the masochist told the sadist?" I scan her features.
"What?" She swallows.
"Hurt me."
Her pupils dilate and her breathing grows ragged.
I peel back my lips, "And what did the sadist reply with?" I ask.
She tilts her head, "I…I don’t know."
"Exactly."
She frowns.
"He said 'No,' Sweetheart."
She pales.
"To everyone else, you may be a fragile beauty, but your façade doesn't fool me."
She swallows, then tosses her head, "I have no idea what you mean."
"I can see the cracks in your perfection, the need that eats away at you."
Her breath hitches, "You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Don’t you?" I allow my lips to curl, "I plan to break you, and when I am done with you, you’ll regret ever having caught my interest."
Her lips part, and the scent of her—lilies with a dash of pepper—teases my nostrils. My dick twitches. My fingers tremble. They fucking tremble. I let go of her and she sags back.
I thrust out my chest, then tuck myself in my pants. "We do this my way." I say.
"What’s that?"
"Thirty days Victoria. If you can survive for thirty days without breaking, I’ll take you as my sub."
She frowns. "That’s…too long," she splutters.
"Twenty-four seven."
"What?" Her cheeks pale. She sits up. Her breasts jiggle and her nipples perking up to salute me… So does my dick. Fuck.
"You’ll work with me and warm my bed…but you can’t give in to me."
"The hell? Do you have any idea how twisted that sounds? It’s impossible. How the hell am I supposed to put up with your arrogance?"
"Your choice. Take it or leave it."
She twists her fingers in front of her, "Saint."
"You don’t get to call me that."
"But—"
"You don’t question me either."
"How?"
I make a zipping motion with my fingers over my mouth.
She squeezes her lips shut.
Thank fuck. Another word from her and I’d have tossed that stupid fucking agreement that I pulled out of my ass into the horseshit pile where it belongs.
"Yes or no?"
Footsteps head toward us and shouts slice through the fog in my head, "Saint."
I shove the noise away, focus on her. Her face pales, then she jerks her chin. I slide up to my feet. Rake a last glance across those creamy breasts, her concave stomach, the slit between her pussy lips. My cock jerks and my balls thrum. I squeeze my fists at my sides. Walk away, walk away before you do something you regret.
A new voice calls out, "Saint!"
I jerk my chin up. Weston glowers at me. Behind him, three other men—the bouncers from the club— stand shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall between him and the crowd that’s busy turning the place upside down. Too fucking bad.
We own the joint. We can do what we want with it, and that includes the possessions in it… Except her… She belongs to me. Mine to do with as I chose.
I glance down and she opens her mouth.
"Nod for yes, shake your head for no."
She stares.
"You can do that, hmm?"
She glowers. I smirk.
"Well?"
I angle my body to leave and she brings her fingers to her mouth, bites her nails. Huh? Who’d have thought the perfectly turned out Victoria would turn out to be, not only an accomplished stripper—but also has the gross-as-fuck habit of biting her nails? She’s nervous. Good. Time things fall into the form I prefer them to be.
I tilt my head.
She nods, a jerk of her chin. My muscles relax. Thank fuck. No, I hadn’t been tense, or on edge… Of course, she was going to a accept my proposal. She had to. She’d dogged my footsteps, crawled into my gut… Time I show her who is the master of her. There can be only one man who commands her every waking moment, her every second at night, her dreams, her nightmares, her innermost fears, her deepest desires… All of it belongs to me… Temporarily. It buys me time to take her apart, piece by piece.
To figure out what the hell she wants from me…and why? And if I use that time to coax her into my model of a willing sub… Well, that is my prerogative. She tips up her head so her gaze collides with mine. I shrug out of my shirt, hand it to her. "Get dressed." I turn to leave.
"Wait," she calls out.
I glare at her over my shoulder.
She pales, then shrugs into my shirt, which hits her mid-thigh. The sleeves cover her arms completely. I frown. She darts her fingers to the front and begins to thread the buttons through the holes. Good. She gets me. Finally.
"When…" she swallows. "...when do we start?"
"You’ll find out soon enough." I turn back, take another step toward Weston. A man behind him breaks through the chain of bodyguards.
He barrels forward, tries to brush past me, his gaze set on Victoria.
I swing and my fist connects with his jaw. He crumples to the ground. Silence descends. The mob behind stills.
I scan their faces, "Anyone, else?"
12
What did the baseball glove say to the ball?
Answer: Catch you later
* * *
Victoria
> * * *
"Why hasn't he called yet?" I chew on my fingernails. I haven’t heard from the asshole in an entire seven days.
Well, except for the call from one of his assistants—not Meredith—directing me to a private clinic in Hampstead Heath. The doctor—a woman—had given me a complete physical and drawn enough blood for a series of blood tests. Jesus, the brute is thorough. He’s probably having me tested for every STD under the sun.
The doc had wanted to administer the contraceptive injection, but I'd opted for birth control pills. I'd been surprised when she hadn't insisted otherwise.
The acrid taste of nail polish laces my tongue. I hold up my fingers and groan. Every one of my finger nails is bitten down to the quick. Ugh. This definitely doesn't go along with the sophisticated image I try to portray. I fist my fingers at my sides, glance around the tiny flat. Amelie had invited me to move in with her and I had agreed.
Truthfully, it had been a weight off my shoulders. No way, could I afford the rent at a studio. Hotels or long-term rentals were out of the question… Besides, I’m not planning on being broke that long. Just for a few days, until I get my feet under me. Until I manage to lure in one gazillionaire with the worst attitude ever. I have to get him to... what…fall in love with me?
Get me pregnant with his child? I shake my head. Not that, much as I want one. This is not the right time to bring a baby into this world. Really, I just need to get him to trust me enough so I can get close to him
I’d been stupid to think my charms, such as they are, would work…
I’d danced at that club, hoping to catch his attention. At least, it had worked. Maybe too well…? There had been a strange light in his eyes when he’d directed me on how exactly he wanted me to speak to him... Which is to say, hold my silence. A thrill tickles my spine… It had been hot. The way he’d taken charge, even as everything inside of me had insisted that I stand up to him—not give in, not yet. I had held my own…and that…had seemed to seal the deal… It had been a risk to coerce him to lose control. He'd taken the bait, come for me, and I'd been sure he was going to fuck me right there. The fact that it had taken place before the entire assembled audience… That had only turned me on even more. Damn him, but I'd wanted him to claim me then. Couldn't resist the strength of his body which had covered me, held me down, helpless in his hold.
I’d known he wouldn’t let anything hurt me… No, he is saving that pleasure for himself. I thrust my forefinger into my mouth, chew on my fingernail… My teeth dig into the soft pad of my finger… "Ow." I shake it out.
"Have you tried coating your fingertips with salt?" Amelie flounces into the room… "Or better still, chilies." She holds a tray with two cups of steaming tea. In between them is a green chili.
I stare at it, then fold my arms behind my back. "No way, am I rubbing that on my fingertips. Knowing my luck, I’d probably touch it to my eyes instead."
She places the tray on the center table, then sinks into a sofa. "So…the plan didn’t work?"
I purse my lips, shift my weight between my feet.
"It did work?"
"I… I’m not sure."
She frowns. "Explain."
I twist my fingers together in front of myself, "He, uh, asked me to wait for his message."
She sits up, ”That’s good, right?"
"He hasn’t called."
"He will." She leans forward and picks up her Kindle.
"You sound sure," I huff.
She shoots me a glance. "You don’t sound convinced."
I raise my shoulders.
She holds up her Kindle. "Trust me, I have firsthand knowledge of how to play a man and reel him in."
"Huh?"
"Romance novels, baby.’
"Oh." I blink. "You…you’re joking right?"
Her eyes gleam. "Haven’t you read Fifty Shades of Grey?"
I shake my head.
Her mouth drops open. "No way."
I walk over, sink into the overstuffed armchair next to her.
"You could have fooled me." She studies me from toe to head.
"What?"
She waves her hand in the air, "You’re so graceful... You practically ooze sex appeal."
"I do not." I fold my arms around my waist.
"Sure do. In fact," she scowls, "every movement of yours seems to be choreographed. Even wearing this outfit."
I glance down at my simple knee length sweaterdress; I'd bought it at a charity shop to keep me warm in the London weather.
"You’re so well put together." She says.
I bite my lips. "My ma loved black and white movies from old Hollywood. I watched them all with her. I loved the old-world glamour, how beautiful and powerful the heroines seemed. I guess I internalized their mannerisms—how they walked, talked…flirted," I lower my gaze, "seduced."
"Ah, now that makes sense."
"It does?"
"You have an old-world allure about you." She places her Kindle on the settee next to her. "An air that suggests you are a challenge."
"Does it now?"
"Bet that’s why Saint can’t help but be intrigued."
"Enough to keep me waiting, huh?"
"He likes to play games… All the Seven do."
"And you know them well?"
"I’ve only met them a couple of times, thanks to Summer, but they are all men at the top of their game, and you’ve set your sights on the most intriguing of them."
I bite my lips. "Saint confuses me."
"How?"
"He saw me dancing, came barreling down from where he was. He marched up to me, and I swear, I thought he was going to go all caveman and drag me out of there."
"But he didn’t?"
I shake my head, pull my feet up under me. "He seemed to change his mind, and decided to humiliate me right there…."
"Then?"
I swipe my hair back from my face. "Then he stepped back, almost as if he was recalibrating his strategy. He accepted my offer."
She blinks, then whoops, "So that's good right?"
"Maybe." I shift around in the chair, "I may have overdone things. He seemed to get all jealous. So much so that he beat up a man who charged up to me."
She sits up straight, "He did?"
I nod. "It was…"
"Dramatic?" She asks.
"A surprise." I shiver. "Guess I simply knew what to say to intrigue him."
She tilts her head, "He has a hidden side, huh?"
"I researched him before approaching him."
"You did?"
I nod, "There are enough pictures of him leaving well-known BDSM clubs."
"Are you worried that you're out of your depth?" She purses her lips. "You think you'll be able to handle the lifestyle?"
I shuffle my feet… "Um," I glance at her, then away. Shit, I revealed too much.
How many times does a person lie, before the lie becomes the truth?
Too many.
And now I am asking riddles and answering them, as if I learned the technique at the feet of the alphahole himself. Shit. Get a grip.
"I’ve, uh, always been drawn to it." I tip up my chin, "I’ve never practiced it before… I hadn’t seriously thought of dipping my toes into it, until Saint." That much is true, at least.
"So, you chose him because you were curious? I mean, he’s not the only one of the Seven who has a hankering for that stuff, you know?"
I twist a strand of hair around my fingers, "I chose him because..."
"Because?" She asks.
It’s so tempting to spill my plan…the part that really matters. If I could get it off my chest to even one person, it would help me feel lighter… I open my mouth, then shake my head. I can’t. This part of my plan? It’s the part that counts. It’s also the one thing I dare not speak openly about. Call me superstitious, but I don’t want to spoil my chances by revealing too much…too soon… "Doesn’t matter," I cut the air with my hand.
Her lips draw down, "Aww, and it w
as getting interesting, too."
"I’ll let you know when there’s something to talk about."
"Promise?"
"On the existence of a fifth Beatle." I hold up my hand.
She scowls. "There wasn’t one."
"I know." A smile twists my lip.
"Not fair, V."
I chuckle, "Let’s say, if he doesn’t call me, I am—"
My phone pings. I glance at it and freeze. Amelie jumps to her feet, crosses the floor to me. "It’s him, isn’t it?"
I show her the text.
* * *
Alphahole: Come down.
* * *
Jesus, is there a shortage of words in his vocabulary, or what?
"Alphahole?" She chuckles. "Quite complimentary of you to call him that."
"Not me," I choke out. "That’s the rat’s ass of a jerk keying his phone and ID into my phone."
"He did that?"
I throw up my hands. "I know, stalkerish much?"
A horn sounds from below and she darts to the window. "There’s a car there…all dark and shiny… OMG." She turns. "He’s here, waiting by the car for you." Her voice is breathless, "This is exciting. This is what you wanted, right?"
My fingers tremble. I swallow. Is it? Is this what I’d been hoping for? He’s opened the door. I only have to step through now. I firm my lips, look up at her, "I never keyed in his name…" I purse my lips.
The only time my purse had been out of my sight was when I had fallen asleep in his office. Had he hacked into it then? I wouldn't put it past him. He's infringed on my privacy… Which, is a positive sign, right? It means he is interested. I force my fingers to un-clutch from around the phone.
Walking to the center table, I pick up my mug of tea, then sink into my arm chair. My phone pings again. I glance down.
* * *
Alphahole: Don’t keep me waiting.
* * *
I set my jaw. The arrogance of the man. Of course, I’d had an inkling he’d want to get his own way, but this… Expecting me to drop everything and jump to his demands? No way.
