Midnight Storm (Amour Toxique Book 2)

by Dori Lavelle

  The seconds tick by. I debate what to do. I wish I could get out of bed and escape through the large windows, but even with the shutters open, I could never get out that way. There are thin bars on the other side of the glass.

  The occasional shuffling outside the door reminds me that Adrian is still out in the hall. Since I wasn’t blindfolded this time, when I entered the room, I noticed a tiny video screen next to the door. I’m guessing there are cameras all over this room as well, and if I do something stupid, Adrian will alert Damien.

  What I need more than anything is to get away from him, even for a second. I feel like I haven’t breathed since the moment he told me I’d be sharing a bed with him.

  Desperate to stretch my cramped muscles, I push back the covers and slide out from underneath his arm. One of my feet touches the ground before a hand grips my wrist.

  “Where are you going?” His voice is thick with sleep and a hint of danger.

  I turn to gaze at his silhouette. His head is a few inches off the pillow.

  “I… I need the bathroom.” He can’t deny me that.

  He releases his grip and tucks his hands behind his head. “Go on, then.” I feel him watching me in the dark.

  Relieved to have a few minutes away from him, I almost race to the bathroom. But even in there, I’m not alone. The bathroom is separated from the bedroom only by a partition of glass. He can see everything I’m doing. At least I can breathe a little here.

  I push down my panties and position myself on the toilet seat. The idea that I’m being watched makes it hard to relieve myself. I rest my head on my knees and stay like that for a long while, killing time.

  He calls my name after a few minutes. “What are you doing in there so long? It’s late. Come back to bed.”

  After counting to twenty, I do as I’m told.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My eyes are closed, though I’ve been awake for hours.

  I hear Damien moving around in the room. A few minutes later, the moving stops, and I feel his eyes on my face. It’s a struggle to keep my eyeballs from moving behind the lids. The commotion starts again.

  A few seconds later, the shower is running. I resist the urge to open my eyes immediately. What if it’s a trick and he’s still in the room? No way. If he were in front of me, I would feel it. His presence is too strong for me not to notice.

  My eyes are heavy as I open them. I barely got any sleep last night, so that’s not a surprise. I’ll have a few moments to myself before he returns to the room—time enough for me to gather the courage to ask for more freedom. If he lets me out of the room, out into the garden, I might be able to find a way to escape.

  There’s no way he’ll let me out on the grounds alone, or to roam around his mansion unaccompanied. Adrian would probably remain a few steps away from me. But what if Adrian was distracted by something else? No one can stay focused every single second. Minds wander all the time. I’ll worry about how to distract him later. The first step is to get through the thickest wall of all, through the devil himself.

  He’s humming a tune. A chill trickles down the back of my neck when I recognize it: Here comes the bride. He’s in some kind of wedded bliss. Last night was as close to a honeymoon as he could get. When the water stops running and I see him reach for a towel, I shift my weight and turn to face the other side of the bed, eyes closed. He’d love it if I saw him naked again. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.

  He enters the room. I hear every muted step on the wood and then the carpet. The hairs at the nape of my neck bristle. His eyes are on me again.

  A door opens. Apart from the door to the hallway, there’s one leading to the walk-in wardrobe. He’s still humming the tune under his breath as he slides drawers in and out.

  The rustle of clothes, the clink of a belt buckle, the snap of a watch being closed: These are the sounds I rely on to tell me at what stage of dressing he is. He returns to the room and sinks down on my side of the bed, right next to me. His cologne curls around me, a blend of roasted coffee and citrus.

  “I know you’re awake.” His words are unable to conceal his smile. “Aren’t you going to wish your husband a good morning?”

  I purse my lips and open my eyes. No use in pretending. Thank God he’s dressed.

  The tie is still hanging down his chest, waiting to be tied, and a pair of square cuff links with black enamel inserts and polished brass frames remain unfastened. His body is fully clothed. He greets me with a smile that looks so real, so loving, it would fool anyone but me. But my heart still bleeds when I think about what could have been.

  What if all this had never happened? What if he had been released from prison as a truly innocent person, and we entered into a real relationship? Would we have stayed together for the long haul, overcome any obstacles? Would we have married and had kids? Would he have held our babies the way he had held Leon in the garden?

  Sadness tears at my heart when I think of Leon. I miss him, but I have to forget him. He did what he came to do: offer me something to hold on to in my personal storm. Now he’s gone, and I have to use the strength he gave me to focus on what’s most important.

  “Good morning, Damien.” I force a smile. In order to make a connection, I have to stop fighting him. I have to create trust. There’s no way he’ll let me out of this room otherwise. For the first time since my kidnapping, it dawns on me that the ball really is in my court. “Did you sleep well?”

  Damien hesitates before responding. “I... Yes, the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.” He reaches for my hand. I resist the urge to pull away.

  “Good.” My voice comes out choked. Left with nothing else to say, I stare at our hands, his fingers woven through mine.

  “How about you?” he asks.

  “Me too. I slept well.” This lie comes easy.

  He leans forward, kisses my forehead. “That makes me glad. I look forward to many more nights with you.”

  Not if I have something to do with it.

  Silence falls and crackles between us as he puts on his cuff links.

  “Have you heard anything about Leon?”

  He looks up, a line etched between his eyebrows. “I called to check up on him yesterday. From what I hear, he’s settling in well with the new family.” He pauses. “You don’t have to worry about him.”

  “I miss him.” Talking about Leon is a step toward putting us on the same wavelength. His eyes tell me he also bonded with the baby.

  “I do too.” He starts tying his tie, eyes fixed on the window. “Would you have wanted to keep him?”

  “I… no…”

  “I got the impression that you fell in love with him. You were pretty upset when he left.”

  Beads of sweat pop up on my nose. “Yes, yes. Sure, I was upset. But I’m not ready to be a mom.” This conversation has to die immediately. Throwing Leon into the mix again will complicate my escape plans.

  He chuckles. “No need to panic. You were an exceptional substitute mom, but I agree with you. We should enjoy married life a little first before starting a family.”

  That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I’m relieved nevertheless. I give him a nod and swipe my nose with the back of my hand. I have to make him believe I want to go along with his sick plans.

  He rises to his feet. “We’ll both be ready in a year or two. That’s more than enough time to wait, don’t you think?”

  “Yes.” The simple word is like a poisonous pill on my tongue.

  “Perfect.” He disappears back into the wardrobe and exits with a charcoal suit jacket over his arm.

  I sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to my neck to cover my semi-nakedness. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m meeting with some business partners.” He walks over to the bed and kisses me on the lips. “I’m sorry we can’t have breakfast together. But I’ll be back before dinner.”

  “Damien.” I bite my lip. “Do you mind if I go out into the garden for some air?”
/>   A cloud settles over his features. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t have you leaving the room when I’m not here.”

  “I’ve been having headaches, and I know some fresh air will help.”

  He glances at the door and then at the windows. “I have a better idea.” He walks over to the windows, pulls a key from his pocket, and inserts it into a keyhole. He extracts it and slides the windows open. The stream of fresh air that drifts in is intoxicating, but it’s not enough to satisfy me.

  I hold my breath, waiting for him to open the bars as well. My heart falls when he turns around and pushes the key back into his pocket. “There, plenty of fresh air. I’ll have Hanna bring up a painkiller with your breakfast.”

  I deflate back against the pillows. “Thanks.” I’m seething inside, but I can’t rock the boat. My earlier resistance got me nowhere.

  “See you later, my angel.” He places a fluffy bathrobe on the bed for me and kisses me on the lips once more. Then he leaves me with nothing but a long, empty day ahead filled with shattered plans.

  The first thing I do after breakfast is run my hands along the bars at the windows to see if there’s some way they can be opened.

  “Can I be of assistance, Mrs. Steel?” A voice interrupts me. “Is there a problem?”

  I jump away from the windows. “No, Adrian, everything’s fine.”

  Damn cameras. I forgot about them.

  I’m about to sit down on the bed when I change my mind and head to the door. I lean my body against it. I could try and reach out to Adrian again, pull him into a conversation.

  But that might backfire. For one, like last time, he might not take the bait out of loyalty to his boss. Plus, the cameras are still running. It’s too easy for Damien to find out what I’ve been up to. And that could destroy the tiny bit of progress I’ve made, burn the fragile bridge between us. Things would definitely get worse after that.

  I have to come up with another plan. No matter what it takes, I’m getting out of this damn prison.

  An hour later, an idea sneaks into my mind—something so twisted I want to throw up. There’s one way to get him to let his guard down and trust me. I’ll give him what he wants, and in return, I hope to get what I want.

  The price of freedom had never been so high.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I spend the whole of dinner silent, moving my food around the plate. Hunger is far from my mind as I think of what lies ahead.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Are you all right?” Damien asks. I almost laugh at the question, but I catch myself and simply nod.

  Once we’re back in the bedroom, he hands me the lingerie I’m expected to wear for the night.

  As usual, he strips off his clothes and climbs into bed naked. I pick up the wine-red crotchless lace bodysuit and head to the bathroom to change, thinking about my plans for the night.

  I stand by the double glass bowl sinks, turned away from the glass wall through which Damien is watching my every move. My gaze falls upon the stretchy material in my hands.

  My stomach is churning, but I can’t back out of my plan. I gather a few shuddering breaths and walk back into the bedroom, the body suit hanging from a finger.

  “You didn’t change.” The statement carries a concealed warning.

  “No,” I whisper, and drop the piece of fragile lingerie to the floor. It falls on my bare right foot. I take a few shaky steps toward the bed, trying hard to ignore the small voice inside my head that mocks me.

  What the hell do you know about seducing a man?

  I’m about to agree with the voice. After all, I was a virgin not long ago. Then I remember the day I had sex with him. My body surprised me then, doing things I never knew it was capable of, even without experience. I only hope that tonight it won’t let me down.

  I unclench my fists and lift my hands, taking my time removing the strapless mermaid chiffon dress I wore to dinner. My breath catches when it sweeps over the curves of my body and pools at my feet.

  I lift my closed lids to look at Damien. He’s no longer lying against the pillows, but is propped up on an elbow, eyes hooded.

  I block all thoughts from my mind and step out of my underwear. I’m standing naked in front of him. I start to lift the sheets but change my mind. Instead, I spread myself on top of the covers. I feel like a prostitute. Maybe I am—I’m about to trade my body for something I want.

  He clears his throat. “You’re sleeping naked?”

  “If you don’t mind.” Although I’m lying on my side with the front of my body turned toward him, I avert my gaze. I’m afraid to be burned by the fire in his eyes.

  “I didn’t ask you to…” His voice is a rumble inside his throat.

  “I know.”

  “What are you doing?”

  My blood pressure shoots up. “I thought—”

  “That I might want to fuck you?” He reaches out his right hand and places it on my naked waist. His touch scalds me.

  “Yes.” Please don’t let him see through me.

  “Look at me,” he orders, and I do as told. As I expected, his eyes are boiling with desire. “Is this what you want—what you really want? Are you ready?”

  He’s giving you a way out. Take it or leave it.

  “Yes.” I chew the inside of my cheek. “I want you, Damien.”

  “Good answer.” Before I can say anything else, he’s turned me onto my back and his mouth is covering mine, his tongue prying my lips apart. I unclench my teeth and let him in.

  His naked body stretches out over mine, and he places a knee between my legs. A sudden wave of disgust at what I’m doing causes me to clench up.

  He stops kissing me. “Are you okay?” His expression is tight. “Don’t play games with me, Ivy. Tell me you want to do this.”

  Tears prick my eyes as I nod. I close them tight and unclench my muscles. It’s going to be fine. As disturbing as this is, I still do find his body attractive. I’ve felt him inside me before, and I loved every moment of it then.

  “Relax, rosebud.” He kisses the side of my neck. “Let me remind you how good we are together.” He kisses his way down my body until he reaches my breasts. My left nipple hardens when he sucks it into his warm mouth. He sucks and nips my bud just enough to make me gasp and almost scream out with longing.

  When he lifts his head a fraction, my nipple slides out of his mouth. “Did you like that, Ivy? Do you want me to own you completely?”

  “Yes.” The word feels true on my tongue, and for a brief moment I’m ashamed with myself.

  “Be a good girl and say the words. Say you want me to own you.”

  “I want… I want you to own me.” I’m selling my soul to the devil, and there’s no guarantee I’ll get anything in exchange. But I’ve already crossed a line and my body refuses to let me turn back.

  He rolls off me, a smile spreading across his face. “Get on your hands and knees.”

  The idea of being taken from behind makes me wet. But before I obey his command, my eyes meet his. “Do you have—”

  “Hands and knees now!” He gets off the bed, approaches an ornate dresser, and pulls out a drawer.

  Once I see the string of condoms and hear him tearing one off, I roll to my stomach and pull myself up until I’m on all fours, my ass up in the air. My senses are spinning out of control as I wait.

  It doesn’t take him long to return to the bed. I crane my head once and see his hard shaft—he’s wearing a condom.

  He positions himself behind me and places a hand on the nape of my neck. Before I can brace myself for what’s to come, he parts my ass cheeks and pushes inside me.

  The sudden thrust is so deep that it sends a bolt of pain into the walls of my belly. My gasp scratches my throat. I grasp the sheets, clutching on to them for support.

  As he fills me and pounds into me with deep strokes, I feel like a virgin all over again. It’s as though the first time he fucked me, he was holding back, and now he’s giving me his all.


  It takes a few thrusts for my muscles to relax, to adjust to his thick shaft and allow him smooth entry. With each thrust, he lets out a throaty, animalistic groan that splits the electric air around us and collides with my moans.

  He slides one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, while the other finds my clit and pinches it, eliciting a cry. I hate what he’s doing and love it at the same time. Maybe I love it more than I hate it, but I’m not ready to admit that to myself.

  “You’re mine now,” he murmurs into my hair. “You belong to me, every inch of you.” He doesn’t stop moving in and out of me as he cups my pussy hard. “This part of you is my favorite.”

  An incoherent sound escapes my mouth as tears fill my eyes. My body jolts forward as his pace increases. An unwanted thread of pleasure twirls from my pussy to my abdomen. Closing my eyes tight, I pray he’ll let me come this time. I try to keep my strangled cries low so he doesn’t know how near to orgasm I am. I don’t want him to withdraw at the last second again.

  “It’s okay, my angel. Come for me. Say my name.” One of his hands is around my neck now, exerting pressure on my throat. Fear courses through me. Will he strangle me? Will he kill me now that he’s gotten what he wants? I can’t breathe!

  I lift a hand and try to pry his fingers away, but I’m unable to. Before I fall forward with only one arm to support me, I give up. I force myself to relax.

  My mind calms enough for me to realize it’s not the pressure of his hand around my neck that’s cutting off my air supply, but my fear of death. His hand isn’t tight enough to hurt me. I squeeze my watery eyes tight and give in to him completely. He tears through me without mercy, his balls slapping my skin.

  Pushed to the limits of desire, my muscles clench around his dick. With a groan, he lets go of my neck and both his hands find my hips. He drives into me harder and faster than before. An orgasm hits my body like a cannon ball and shoots through the entire length of my body. It’s a hurricane, ripping through me, robbing me of strength.