by Skylar West
Then, when the trigger hit, she'd wanted to run; that was always her reaction. I should have presented my offer differently. I should have told her I wanted her to move in so I could chain her to my bed and have my way with her all-day long.
She would have laughed and gotten turned on, and our night would have turned out differently. I was not on my game. With a submissive in training, I would never have missed the signals. But she wasn't a woman to be trained. She was to be encouraged, loved, and built up. My emotions were running the show now, not my head. She was not meant to be released into the world as a newly trained submissive, she was meant to be the omega to my alpha.
I set down my glass and checking on Katarina. I cracked the door open to the guest room to make sure she was okay. She was sound asleep and lightly snoring. I headed to my room and got ready for bed. I had just turned out the light when I heard something.
Not a big something, but enough to make me get out of bed to find the source of the noise. I snuck through my room and peeked out the bathroom door, as the angle offered me the best vantage point of seeing the living space and front door without me being seen.
There it was again, a jingling from the front door. I had two guys on that door, one at the elevator and one downstairs monitoring everyone who came and went from this floor.
It had to be one of my security guys, checking to make sure the door was locked. Then I heard the noise again, the scraping of a lock pick. The hair on the back of my neck went up; this wasn't right. I silently moved back to my room and looked for the gun I always carried with me and phoned Al, the head of my security team.
No answer, damn it; that wasn't a good sign. I heard the door open, so I snuck back to the bathroom door and my vantage point in time to see the door swing open and silently shut behind the person who had entered. It was dark, but as the door had opened, the hall light had shone on the intruder.
A white male, about my height, powerfully built, and he was packing. I watched as he tried my bedroom door. When he saw no one in the bed, he moved toward the second bedroom. As he opened the door, I snuck up behind him and brought a marble centerpiece down on the back of his head. He dropped to the floor. I grabbed his gun and tucked it into the waistband of my pajama pants then grabbed some ties from my closet and tied him up. I called down to the front desk requesting that they send their security to check on my men, as no one was picking up.
Then I called Devon. "Are you checked in?"
"Just arrived, why?"
"I have a gunman unconscious and bound on my floor. I would go check on my four-man security team, but I can't leave Katarina alone. Come to my suite as soon as you can."
I hung up and waited. Five minutes later, there was a knock on my door. Devon had arrived.
"Did you have more than two men on this floor?" he asked, entering the suite.
""Yes, two at the door, one at the elevator, and one in the security room who was supposed to be watching activity coming and going from this floor."
"I don't know where your elevator guy is, or your IT guy, but I'm assuming the two dead bodies in the stairwell are probably your door guards. I'm going to assume the other two were in on it and have disappeared." "
Devon stopped over the unconscious body of the intruder. He pulled something out of his pocket and waved it under the unconscious man's nose. He came to suddenly, coughing and sputtering. I hauled him to his feet and dragged him to one of the chairs. After securing him to it, I let Devon take over. This was his specialty, interrogation. Scotland Yard kept him on retainer, but he was also a freelance gun for hire, so to speak. The intruder was in a silent staring contest with me until Devon punched him in the face. Then he righted himself and spat blood on my carpet.
His grin spoke volumes, as did the tattoos on his fingers—the Russian mafia.
Devon asked, "Who sent you?"
When the intruder didn't answer, Devon repeated the question in Russian. The man's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but his only response was to grin.
Devon reached over and snapped one of the intruder's fingers so quickly, it took a moment for the shock to wear off and the pain from his broken phalange to kick in. It was the very suddenness that gave Devon his edge. He was so fast, the poor bastard didn't have time to scream.
Within seconds, all the fingers on his left hand were broken, and the shock was wearing off. The intruder's eyes bulged and sweat broke out on his forehead. He swore under his breath but still said nothing.
"I'll do your other hand and make sure you never hold a gun again. Then what good will you be to your employer? I suggest you tell us who sent you."
For the first time since gaining consciousness, the man looked unsure of himself. Devon reached for his right hand, and the man began to speak in broken English. His employer was unknown to him as he was still in the infant stages with the mafia, only recently having gotten out of prison.
The man in charge of the project was Vladimir Rechenko; he headed up the Russian mob in the States. As to who had hired them, he had no idea.
"Do you directly communicate with Rechenko, or someone else?"
He answered, "No, we had brotherhood, and the leader of this mission is Yusuf Petrov."
That caught my attention. Yusuf—he had to be the same one who'd been in Greece with us. He'd penetrated my security twice now. That wouldn't happen again. I signaled for Devon to follow me out of earshot.
"You know that's the man in Greece who almost killed Kate."
Devon nodded. "Yes, and they have managed to get past security twice by eliciting help from your personal team, King. Something weird is going on. Does Kate's father have issues with you? If he is responsible, how is he penetrating your security? Weren't they all hand-picked by you?"
"They were, but in Greece, I hired a few more to ensure a safe passage to the airport and here to the hotel. The IT guy and the elevator security were recent hires."
"Well, whoever is responsible, they are certainly determined. What do you want me to do with the guy bleeding on your rug?"
"Get rid of him," I answered.
We moved back into the living room to find our intruder dead; he must have had a cyanide capsule hidden in his mouth. He would no longer have to worry about being killed by us or his overlords; he'd taken the matter of his life into his own hands.
"Now, what?"
Devon got on the phone, and in less than ten minutes, two men showed up—professional cleaners, and they were done and out in half an hour. Devon left to go down to the security room to see what he could gather from the footage, if anything. After watching it for any clues, he would destroy it. I would wake up in the morning and claim that my security must have gone missing during the night.
Their dead bodies would be found and the police notified. Nothing would alert the media, keeping Katarina's father in the dark a while longer. He would know, of course, that the mission had failed, assuming, of course, that he had ordered his daughter to be taken out.
But he wouldn't know that I knew the names of the perpetrators. That was a small consolation. By the time I got to bed, it was four am. Katarina had been sleeping for four hours, blissfully unaware that her life had been in danger again.
I cautioned Devon, before he left, to let on nothing at lunch the next day, regarding what had happened, unless a reason presented itself over lunch. We still didn't have proof that her father was involved, and there was no point in stressing her out over something she had no control over.
I'd also come to a decision. Devon was staying with me, and he could hand choose who he wanted on his team to protect Katarina. I needed a reason for his presence. So, I would tell her I needed his expert advice on some security issues back in California with the club.
I climbed into bed, exhaustion claiming me before my head hit the pillow. A few hours later, I felt a warm body snuggled in behind me—Kate. I sighed and went back to sleep, waking at eleven to the sound of the shower.
I got up and joined the little minx in the shower. As
I stood behind her, I lathered her up, running my index finger down the crack of her ass. She arched her ass toward me, and I played with her little anal bud, running my soapy finger just inside the rim and back out.
She gasped in pleasure and placed her hands on the shower wall to steady herself. I parted her legs and ran my finger in and out of her ass at a rapid pace. My other hand reached between her legs and rhythmically slapped her mons, eliciting gasps, moans, and mild shrieks, depending on the intensity of the smacks landing on her sensitive nether region. I pulled my finger out of her ass and began to pepper her ass with hard slaps. She let out little shrieks when I got a particularly sensitive area. I pulled my other hand away from her mons and reached up, grabbing the bath brush.
I began to pepper her backside with the oak bath brush, increasing the intensity to her sit spot. I delighted in the idea of her sore and squirming during our lunch date. I placed my foot on the built-in seat and pulled her up and over my thigh, so her feet were hanging off the tiled shower floor. With nowhere for her to go, I began spanking in earnest.
The water beaded and splatted, bouncing off her backside, her porcelain skin becoming hot pink under my ministrations. It didn't take long before she started to howl in protest, but I continued to wale down blows to her wiggling backside. I kept one hand on her lower back and brought down the bath brush harshly. Finally, giving in to her punishment, Kate let go, and sobbing, she hung limply over my thigh.
Her ass was a beautiful shade of dark red, particularly in the area of the sit spot on both cheeks. Where the center was turning blue, she would have two identical bruises at the base of each cheek. I stood her up and pulled her in tightly.
She hung limply in my arms. When she'd calmed down, I sat her down on the shower seat. She hissed at the contact and tried to stand up. I pushed her back down and said, "Stay." I quickly washed my hair and turned off the water.
I stepped out and then reached in for her and drew her out, wrapping her in a big, white, fluffy hotel towel. I wrapped an identical one around my waist. She followed me into the main bedroom and stood in a sunbeam shining brightly through a crack in the drapes.
"How are you feeling today, Katarina?"
"You mean, other than my ass? Better than I should expect, considering what I drank last night."
I laughed and replied, "Yes, you really tied one on, didn't you?"
She gazed at me from under her wet bangs. "Yes, I did. Are you angry with me?"
"Honestly, I was, but I'm fine now. I was going to suggest some bar hopping and dancing, but I never got the chance. Care to share what happened that made you think you had to leave?"
She tried sitting down and quickly stood up. "Nothing happened, Kingsley." She sighed heavily in frustration. "What I mean to say is you didn't do anything wrong. It was me and my triggers. I had a reaction and was unable to control it. When I came out of the bathroom at Petite Boucherie, the two guards were in the kitchen eating. I felt an opportunity to be free from my shackles was being offered, and I accepted it."
The guards weren't guarding her at all. Figures, they were the two douchebags who had disappeared after the break-in. "Your reaction, to what exactly? Was I being unfair?"
She sighed, "No, as I already said, it wasn't you. It was the pressure, the security, the running and hiding. I hate it, and it reminds me of my father."
I perked up; maybe a clue? "How does this remind you of your father, Katarina?"
"When I used to get paraded out for parties, there was always a lot of security. I still don't get it. I mean, he's wealthy. My mother has half, and therefore, she is wealthy. But, as for me, I live off their good graces. Until September, that is, then I get access to my two-billion-dollar trust fund."
This was beginning to make more sense; the attacks must be about the money.
"Katarina, if something happened to you, who would receive the trust fund? Does it revert back to your parents?"
"I have no idea, Kingsley, why do you ask?"
"Beyond looking for motivation, none at all. I'm still unclear as to what is going on and who is responsible for it. But right now, we must get ready for lunch with Devon. Are you prepared to meet an English lord?"
She laughed. "I already have, silly. Aren't you an English lord?"
My turn to laugh as I pulled her in and squeezed her ass cheeks. She squeaked and rose onto her toes, trying to escape my rough handling of her sensitive backside.
"Yes, I am, your lord, and don't you forget it." She giggled and leaned down to kiss me.
"You got it, King."
Her last word got lost in our mouths colliding. This woman made me so hot, I felt my hard-on pressing against my towel as our tongues tangled in a desperate sword play. I wondered, again, how I'd fallen so hard for one woman after all my years of playing.
I never expected to fall in love. I didn't think I was capable. Compartmentalizing women had made my life easier, fewer entanglements, but had removed the romance and the deep cacophony of emotions that come with a relationship.
My parents would be thrilled until they realized she was new money, then it would be worse than being single. At least, then they had hope that I would fall prey to one of their conniving plots to get me an English wife of title.
I slid my hand between her thighs and felt how wet she was. I plunged four digits inside of her. Her mewl in my mouth turned me on, making me longer and harder if that were possible.
I turned her around and sat her on my hard cock. As I hung on to her hips, I pressed deep inside.
"Ah, Kingsley, yes, yes… Oh, please don't stop!"
I obliged, not stopping until we'd both exploded.
Chapter 15
Kate
We were escorted to a table and joined a man who stood to greet us. He was gorgeous, like Kingsley in height and skin tone. In every other way, they were opposites. In countenance, Kingsley was dark, and his whole vibe was like the dark knight.
Devon was all light, his vibe playful and mischievous. I found myself smiling uncontrollably, at both Devon and his gentle poking at his much more reserved cousin. I liked him, even before our hands shook in greeting. Danica would love this guy. I made a mental note to get Kingsley to invite him back to Los Angeles with us, so I could do some couple scheming.
"Ms. Wallington, charmed," he said as he lifted my hand to kiss the back of it.
I grinned back. "Charmed, indeed, Mr. Rutherford."
He grinned and pulled out my chair for me a second before Kingsley, earning a glare from his cousin. "So, Kate, how is this lug treating you anyway?" he asked, no doubt noticing the wince that crossed my face when my ass and my chair connected.
"Really, you have to ask? He's a beast, of course, but then you already knew that."
"Oh, you are a plucky one," Devon said, a wide grin lighting his face.
Kingsley kept his eyes on mine as he said, "She is that, Devon, and so very much more."
"Touché, cousin," Devon said, raising his glass in a toast.
We joined in the toast, our crystal wine glasses making the most beautiful resonant ring.
We ordered and then went on to discuss mundane topics interspersed with childhood stories of Kingsley. Devon had me laughing for the better part of lunch. His imitations of Kingsley as a young man were hilarious, and I was beginning to wonder how someone so funny could be a highly sought out private investigator.
As we neared the end of lunch, I asked Devon if he had a significant other, being as none of his stories included a woman. "I don't have a lot of time to dedicate to a relationship, as I travel a great deal for work. Most women I know want a man who stays put for the most part."
A sly grin played on my face as I said, "I know the perfect woman for you. She also travels and doesn't need a significant other to be with her all the time. In fact, she likes her alone time, and her professional career takes her on the road as well. Next time you're in L.A., I'd love to introduce you to her if you don't mind?"
"Oh, oh,
King, I'm in trouble. You may end up seeing more of me than you'd like."
Kingsley smiled. "Would that be a bad thing, cousin?"
"Depends on who you ask," Devon replied with a laugh. "I may be led astray from my family obligations." We all broke out in laughter at that.
"Katarina, I have asked Devon to come with us to L.A. and head up the investigation to find out what's going on, so he will be around for a while."
Kingsley gave Devon a look, and he took over the conversation. He sat up straighter and took a drink of water. "Kate, I know King has asked you to move into his baby mansion." He smirked when he said baby mansion, and Kingsley playfully punched him in the arm.
"And I want you to know, I think it's a good idea. Would you be open to the possibility?"
I crossed my arms, immediately on the defensive. "Really, Kingsley, you have to get your cousin to ask me what you have already asked and had answered?"
Kingsley's eyes went dark, but he didn't speak while Devon continued. "Honestly, Kate, I asked him, and he told me he'd already thought of that and you'd declined. It's harder to control security in an apartment, any apartment, that is why I am asking."
I uncrossed my arms but still declined to answer the question.
"I have a home close to King's that I could put you up in if that makes you feel more comfortable."
I looked at Kingsley. His eyes were black, daring me to accept. I started to laugh as an image of me, being snuggled in comfort at Devon's house, floated unbidden into my thoughts. Devon was smiling in amusement, while Kingsley looked positively peeved.
I finally got hold of myself and wiped a tear of amusement from my eye. "Sorry, I had a vision I found amusing. Um, here's the thing, why? We had one incident in Greece, and we don't know anything, and since then, nothing else has happened, so why so cloak and dagger?"
Devon glanced at Kingsley, who, in turn, nodded his head.
"There has been another incident, Kate. Last night, while you slept, two of Kingsley's bodyguards were killed, and the perpetrator entered the hotel room. King was still awake and knocked him out. We have dealt with it quietly so as not to alert anyone. We know the man was Russian, and we know who is giving the orders. We don't know why yet, or the end game. That is why Kingsley is desperate to have you in an environment where we can contain this situation. It's not just the bad guys, but the press, and any other involved parties whom we don't know about. Do you understand now?"
