Yasmeen tried to wake up enough to sit up. She was dying to ask what the hell he was talking about. Couldn’t. She was too far gone. She faded then came back. Maybe she was dreaming.
“…taking so long…amateur in comparison…one Baikov every two hours…interested in harming…to his memory…kill them.”
Not a dream, she corrected before slipping away completely. A nightmare.
NINE
The next morning, following instructions found on a handwritten note propped on the bathroom mirror, Yasmeen made her way to the first level of the castle to meet Lucian for breakfast. She had on a pretty pajama set she assumed he’d spread across the foot of the bed before leaving her—his pillow had an indent, proving he’d slept beside her. The nightie and robe left her feeling naked even though she was covered from shoulder to mid-thigh, though, because there’d been no underwear in sight, she was feeling breezy between the legs. She’d been instructed to leave her feet bare.
Because the sun was shining through every window she passed, she was able to take her time and enjoy the walk. She entered a small dining room that had huge windows and gold walls to brighten the dark furnishings and deep red accents.
Lucian turned from surveying the grounds, and she paused, unsure of the protocol. Should she go over and kiss him, hug him, weave in and around his ankles? “Good morning.”
He didn’t return the greeting but did come forward. When he reached her, he slipped a finger into the tie at her waist and pulled it so the sides of her robe fell open. Cleavage and lace were revealed.
“Do not hide in my presence,” he said as he kissed both her cheeks. He brought her to the table that had eight chairs surrounding it. Her stomach rumbled quietly when the smell of the food hit her nostrils. He turned one of the chairs sideways. “Sit.”
Did he have to act as if they barely knew each other? She looked at him, hoping he might meet her eyes so she could at least pretend he felt connected to her. He didn’t even give her that.
She sat and watched as he pulled another chair out. He snugged up until their knees almost touched. Then he went sexy man and spread his legs so they surrounded—trapped—hers. She would like to have felt comfortable enough to run her hands up and down his thighs, but no. He was once more wearing black dress pants and a black shirt that had to have been created for his body alone. As usual, he smelled like heaven.
“Would you prefer eggs or oatmeal?”
“I’d prefer the Starbucks on the corner of College Point and Roosevelt. The guy behind the counter knows me only as a regular customer and he’s usually friendlier than you’re being right now.”
He paused in his observation of the glass-covered dishes. “The sound of your hunger reached my ears. Tell me which you would prefer.” No sign of life.
She didn’t usually eat much for breakfast, but she couldn’t deny she was hungry this morning, which was the only reason she gave in. “Eggs, please.”
With her preference voiced, instead of making and handing over a plate, he prepared a small amount of the fluffy scrambled eggs and placed it in front of himself. Was he going to eat while she watched? Tease her? Could he be so cruel? And insane?
He picked up a fork that appeared to weight five pounds and speared the eggs. Then he scooted his chair even closer to hers and brought the food over to hold it in front of her mouth.
She pulled her head back. “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.
“Feeding my pet.”
She felt her lips flatten. Were they starting that already? “Lucian…”
“Shh. You did not stir last night even when I brought you to bed. I was pleased. Do not ruin that by causing a fuss. Open. Allow me to take care of you.”
“Take care of me? I’m sorry, but why would you want to take care of someone you don’t like?”
He raised a brow and swept a low-lidded look down her body.
“Being attracted to and liking someone is two different things. If you liked or respected me at all, we wouldn’t be here. I wish I’d gotten to know you better the last time we were together; then maybe I’d be able to recognize if this behavior is out of character for you. Or are you just a natural dic—tator?” She flashed a quick smile.
“Open, draga.”
Wow. The man was a pro at evasion. Did he really think if they didn’t discuss it, his cold shoulder didn’t exist? “What does that mean?”
He put the fork down and slid his chair back a little. “Do you recall me telling you how much I dislike having to repeat myself?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then there will be no need for me to explain why I am putting you over my lap.” He took her hand and drew her up. She resisted when he pulled her in.
A treacherous rush of excitement billowed from her core. “Over your lap? You mean you want me to sit on your lap.”
“No.”
Oh, God.
“The longer you make me wait, the higher the tally. You are currently at next to nothing, but I count by threes.”
For some insane reason, she paused only a moment longer. When he pulled on her fingers, she didn’t protest, and he easily draped her over his legs. Good fucking morning, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut and waited to experience something she’d wondered about for years. She fought a shiver when he flattened his palm and dragged it and her nightgown up over her ass. His work area was totally exposed.
Why was she allowing this? She should be protesting. Vehemently. Freaking out.
“Your breathing is labored, pet. Are you frightened about receiving punishment?”
She gripped his pant leg and shook her head as she anticipated, her body letting her know she wasn’t anywhere near repulsed by what was about to happen. Her mind, on the other hand, was hiding, mortified over her easy, almost eager acceptance.
“Are you comfortable? If not, you may adjust your position.”
So that she was straddling him? Preferably with his pants open. She doubted it. It took only one little shimmy to snug up to his abs. He was hard, she realized with some relief when she felt his long cock press into her hip. Just like that, knowing they were sharing the excitement, she was all in.
“In this position, your ass is shaped like a heart.” His hand came down, and the sound of it connecting with her skin cracked through the room. And stung like a bitch.
Shock stole her breath but she had no time to process before he delivered more with his goddamn huge hand. Three on each cheek.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”
She waited for more, feeling in no way demeaned. The act merely cemented Lucian’s authority over her, which was something she’d already known was there. But in a good way. From the moment they’d met, his dominance over everything around him had drawn her like a fragile moth to a crackling blaze.
One more landed and she jumped. Flames cooked her ass and she ground her teeth together, forcing herself not to pull away from the scorch because she instinctively knew that wouldn’t go over well. By the time he sent his hand between her legs and speared deep into her welcoming pussy with two fingers, she got why she’d always been curious. Deep down, she’d somehow known she’d respond to this form of play.
“No resistance at all because you’re soaking wet, my pet,” he murmured, unnecessarily stating the obvious. “It appears this was not the punishment it was meant to be.”
She shook her head and moaned as he slowly and deliberately thrust a few times, delivering brief strikes of pleasure that mingled and confused the pain. It was a shock when he pulled out and landed two more swats before taking her arm and helping her to stand on shaky legs. Nine. He’d given her nine spanks on her bare ass for making him repeat himself.
“Or maybe it will work in a different way. Now that you are aroused, you will sit here with your pink ass and dripping pussy, and we will do nothing more than eat our breakfast. That might not be so pleasant for you, hmm?” He pulled his chair up and took her by
the hips to lower her back into hers.
He made her vision quiver when he licked his glistening fingers. He shook his head and said something in his own language as he wiped them dry on a napkin. As if nothing unusual had gone down, he lifted the fork again.
“Deschide, draga.”
Her mind crowded with images of him laying her on the table and eating her for breakfast. Of her falling to her knees and eating him. Of being thrown against the wall so he could fuck the pussy he’d just primed for sex it wouldn’t be having.
She forced her hammering heart to slow and tried to show him how accustomed she was to being spanked before she had her morning coffee. “You never told me what that means.” She sat forward so her ass wasn’t pressing so hard into the seat.
“It means use your jaw muscles to part your lips,” he said with no expression. “I know you are hungry, and I wish to feed you.”
She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile because she was pretty sure that wasn’t allowed at his table. “I meant the other word. You keep calling me that. Does it mean whore?”
She watched his pupils expand and a hardness come over his face. “No. Too late, yesterday, I realized I should have chosen a less derogatory term. I will never refer to you in such a way again. Not in any language. My apologies. Now open.”
“But isn’t that the role you want me to play?” She knew she was goading him, but she couldn’t help it. He was starting their day out playing the pompous ass—while spanking hers—and she didn’t like it. His attitude, not the spanking. When he acted like this, she had a hard time remembering why she was so eager to help him.
“If I wanted you as my whore, you would already be set up in a condo overlooking Central Park. When in town, I would drop by twice a week, fill your body with come, and leave a pair of earrings on the nightstand. Sorin would never have spoken to you, my staff would never have seen you, and you sure as hell would not have been welcome at Markus’s service. If you were my whore, you would know your place and your mouth would either be shut or full of my cock.” He entered her private space, as he liked to do. “That must mean I like and respect you.”
Certain aspects of being his whore sounded kind of exciting. “Have you ever kept a woman that way?” she asked even though she knew she wouldn’t like the answer if it was—
“Yes.”
Fuck. Something dark and possessive weaved its way around her heart. “Really.”
“Yes. A few. At the time, an arrangement like that was convenient, but that was long ago.”
“How long ago?”
“More proof that I like my pet; I do not make her sit in the corner as punishment for layering these tiresome questions on me.”
She laid her palm on his thigh. “Will you really make me sit in the corner if I make you mad?”
“Probably not. Though I have imagined you staring at a wall as you wait for me in a submissive pose, your ravishing feet peeking out from beneath your bare ass, mouth quiet. I would bind you before bringing you to bed. Or simply have you right there. We may play that out today. And it has been over four years since I had a mistress.”
Her brain was tripping to keep up. Submissive pose, naked, bound, fucked on the floor. Four years since he’d kept a woman. Why did that hurt to think about? “Have you had a girlfriend in that time?”
“When did you last have a boyfriend, Yasmeen?”
“A couple of years ago.”
“How long were you together?”
“Five months.”
“Were you in love?”
“No.”
“Was he?”
“Not really.”
“In other words, yes. Did he end it or did you?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
That’s where her willingness to answer his questions ended. “I answered you, now you answer me. Have you had a girlfriend in the past few years?”
“No. Why did you end the relationship?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“He was unfaithful.”
“No! He was the nicest guy I’ve ever known.” She defended Chris, a musician she’d dated in college, without thought. “He wouldn’t have messed around on me.”
He sat back slightly. “You were unfaithful.”
Her face burned with shame.
“That is unexpected. And disappointing.”
“I didn’t cheat on him,” she muttered. “I broke up with him before it happened.”
“Before what happened?”
What was she doing? She’d never even told Miranda this story. Had been too humiliated and embarrassed. But she didn’t want Lucian thinking she was a disloyal tramp. A tramp maybe. But not a disloyal one. Ugh.
“There was a professor during my last semester at school. He was handsome and charming, but a dick. His class was overcapacity because of an enrollment error and he called me into his office to tell me I had been one of the last to enroll so I had to go.” She shifted in her seat as the sick feeling she’d gotten sitting in his office came back to her. Her ass cheeks were pulsing with a heat that felt almost good. “He asked why I looked so upset, and told me I could take the next class offered, but that would have kept me in school for another semester, and I couldn’t afford the one I was currently in. As it was, I was there on grants and a scholarship. I needed to finish and get my ass into a job that paid more than peanuts. I had student loans that were already past due and rent and student fees and living expenses.” She shut that down when it sounded as if she was making excuses for herself.
“To make a long story short, after I told him that, he made me an offer. He would backdate my enrollment, and they’d kick someone else out. After I did what he wanted, I’d have secured my place in the class, and I could graduate in a few months as planned.” She pressed her knuckles against her thighs and cracked each one. “I broke up with Chris that afternoon and visited my professor in his office over the next five nights.”
She blinked when Lucian pushed his chair back and got up. She watched him walk out—
A blast of shock smacked her silly when she saw Sorin standing just outside the door. How long had he been there? Had he witnessed her spanking? Oh, fucking hell. Had he heard her share the lowest, most disgraceful moment of her life? She came back around and wished she could melt through the floor. What if Lucian sent her home? What if her behavior disgusted him the way it disgusted her? What if he started treating her like a real whore because she’d just revealed she was willing to be one to get what she wanted?
Rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, she cleared her throat and would have killed to be able to pour herself some juice from the carafe, but she didn’t feel comfortable making herself so at home. She wasn’t really a guest here, she was a pet, and pets weren’t allowed to touch what was on the table. Right?
Shit. You’re starting to role play, idiot. She brought her fingertips up to rub at her eyes.
The sound of footsteps preceded Lucian returning. He took up his position again. “You have had few men since then.” In that way of his, he spoke as if there’d been no interruption.
She dropped her hands to her lap without trying to figure him out. “It took me some time to get over what I’d done.”
“You were ashamed.”
Conscious of Sorin less than twenty feet away, she lowered her voice and answered honestly. “Some of the girls I grew up with became prostitutes, and I was always proud of the fact that I didn’t give up and go that route to make a buck. But then I did, only it wasn’t to make money but to save it.” She shrugged. “It’s sad what you’ll do when you feel you have no other choice. It wasn’t until later that I realized I did have other choices. I could have gone deeper into debt, completely destroyed my credit rating, dropped out and tried again when and if I was ever in a position to afford tuition. I was just too tired to do any of it.”
Looking around the room, she wondered if he was ashamed of anything he’d done in his past. “I had en
ough pride not to have actual sex with him; even when he guaranteed me an A if I did.” Her lip curled. “Such an asshole. I wish I’d known someone like you back then,” she said, forcing a smile to try to lighten the somber atmosphere. “Maybe I could have borrowed one of your goons and they could have slapped him around until he promised never to do that to another girl.”
“You didn’t report him.”
It was funny how he wasn’t asking questions, but making statements as if he already knew the answers. But he couldn’t have because there was no one who knew about this except her and her professor.
“No. I didn’t. I knew there was no point. And, like I said, I was too tired at that point to withstand what would have come with filing a complaint. As a female growing up where I did, you get to know pretty early on that not many people side with our type. A poor girl with no support system, no family, no stable home, attending a school like NYU on grants and a full scholarship. If I’d ratted out an esteemed professor?” She snorted. “Please. They’d have pulled my funding and laughed me off campus before I could blink.”
He placed a hand on her knee and squeezed until she met his eyes. He held that look, feeding her need for the connection she craved. “I, too, wish you had known me back then. I would have gladly taken care of him the same way I took care of that nobody at Markus’s service. Fighting her battles; yet another sign I like my pet.” He leaned in and rubbed his nose against her cheek. His next words didn’t match the affectionate gesture. “Now, we are going to try this again. You will open this beautiful mouth of yours and take what I am offering you in the way of sustenance. Before I stand and feed something into it that has no nutritional value whatsoever.”
Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) Page 10
