by Katee Robert
I am worse off with Jafar than I was with my father.
Chapter 6
Jafar
“Explain to me again how you lost Ali for the second time.”
Seth winces and looks like he wants to be anywhere but standing in front of me, delivering this particular bit of bad news. “We underestimated him. After he escaped the coup, we tracked him to his apartment. But when we broke in to collect him, he slipped away.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
I keep my expression cold, letting none of the frustration through. Seth might have fucked this up, but he’s still one of my best men. “Find him.” The longer Ali remains free—remains alive—the greater the risk to Jasmine. If he was going to blow out of town, he would have done it by now.
No, he’s looking to reverse the coup.
And he needs Jasmine to do it.
“Yes, sir.” He ducks his head. For such a big man, he manages to occupy a small space in this moment. “I already have my men searching him out. He won’t be able to evade us for long.”
“Don’t fail me.” I wait for him to bob a nod. “Go.”
“Yes, sir.” He hurries from the room, leaving only Jeremiah.
My second shakes his head. “This isn’t ideal.”
“I know.” I wait for him to point out that if we’d kept with the original timeline, none of this would be an issue. Five years of working my way close to Balthazar, close enough to strike, close enough to actually accomplish what I set out to when I came to Carver City, and I let my fury get the best of me when it mattered most.
Jeremiah doesn’t say anything.
Of course he doesn’t. He knows there’s nothing he can say that I haven’t already said to myself. I endangered my ambition because the thought of Ali getting his hands on Jasmine—of what he might do to her—made me lose my fucking mind. She’s mine. She’s been mine since I laid eyes on her.
I wouldn’t do anything different.
“Find him, Jeremiah. I want you on this separately from Seth. He botched the grab the first two times. If he does it a third time, I don’t want you to worry about extraction. Put a fucking bullet between his eyes.”
“I’m on it.”
There’s nothing more I can do for the time being. At least on Balthazar’s side of things, I have everything locked down. Most of his men were only too happy to jump sides. He made the cardinal mistake of not taking care of his own people, of looking to his wealth first and theirs not at all. It’s why I chose him when I came to Carver City. There are other players that move just out of sight of the everyday world, some of them with more territory and more power than Balthazar, but he was the only one prime for the picking.
The fact that I laid eyes on his daughter and wanted her for mine barely came into the decision.
I check my watch. Jasmine’s appointment with Tink should be long since wrapped up. The blonde is a pain in the ass, but she’s the best in the business and discrete enough when it comes right down to it. She might go toe to toe with every single person she comes across, but she doesn’t talk about clients with other people.
I have no intention of keeping Jasmine a secret. What’s the point of possessing a rare desert flower if no one knows it exists? After tonight, no one worth mentioning will doubt that she’s a prize worthy of burning cities to the ground over—or that she’s already been claimed.
It doesn’t take long to make it back to my building. I prefer to keep my operations as close as possible to the center of Balthazar’s territory to stay on top of things. My territory now. It’s important to keep one’s thumb on the pulse of a place, and the only way to do that is to be neck deep in it. If Balthazar would have done that instead of living off in his mansion, he might have given me more of a challenge.
Possibly.
One of my men, Luke, meets me in the parking garage. “She’s in the pool.”
I nod my acknowledgement and head up. By now, she should be getting ready for our night, and her continued rebellion, though small, has my entire body going tight in anticipation. Jasmine is nothing if not a challenge, and that won’t change anytime soon. The problem is striking the right balance of challenge and obedience. That, we haven’t accomplished yet. That will take time.
Time we don’t have.
Not with Ali circling.
The man should have been the least of my opponents. He’s new enough to be shiny, all brash smiles and bold statements he has no way of backing up. It should have been simple to remove him and clear the path forward. And yet he’s the most dangerous enemy I have currently. If Ali won’t take the defeat lying down …
Jeremiah will deal with it.
Should he fail—something he’s never done to date—then I’ll handle it personally.
I head into the pool area and stop just inside the door. The pool is meant more for recreation than for exercise, but Jasmine cuts through the water with the determination of an Olympic swimmer. I lean against the wall, enjoying this quiet moment of just watching. Jasmine and I have interacted countless times over the last five years, but they were always barbed comments that felt like a particular kind of inside joke. I was never able to just … be in her presence. There was always someone watching, always some enemy skirting too close to the truth.
In most cases, the enemy was me, but that changes nothing.
I want this new normal. She’s going to fight me until the day we die, but tonight will shift things into my favor. Jasmine fights because that’s all she knows how to do—dig in her heels and make moving her more trouble than it’s worth. I need to demonstrate the benefits of bending to my will. I relish the fight, yes, but she has to bend.
She finally registers that she’s no longer alone and stops, treading water. “Jafar.”
“Jasmine.” I relish the wariness in her eyes. She’s always looked at me like that, as if she sees beneath the carefully cultivated exterior to the man beneath. As if she knows exactly how dangerous I am, but she’s not going to let that stop her from going a round or two with me. That look is what drew me to her in the first place. Beautiful women exist all over the world, but one who truly sees me? Priceless.
I slip my hands into my pockets. “It would be a shame if we’re late.”
She shivers, obviously registering the threat beneath the mild words. “Do you honestly expect me to walk around naked when I’m not wearing one of those dresses?”
“I happen to prefer you naked.”
Her dark eyes flash. “Is that so? I’m sure your men prefer the same.” She swims to the shallow end, never breaking eye contact, and walks up the steps toward me.
Fuck, but she looks like a siren sent solely to torment me. As she rises out of the water, it cascades down her light brown skin, tracing a path I fully intend to follow with my mouth. In time. Her brown nipples are peaked and goosebumps rise over her skin as the water reaches her hips, her thighs, and finally she’s standing before me, defiant to the very end.
“My men know better.” Despite my best efforts, my voice deepens, giving away my reaction.
Jasmine wrings out her hair and flips it over her shoulder. “Maybe at first. But normalcy breeds complacency. Eventually, they’ll start looking. They won’t be able to help themselves.” She reaches up and tugs on my tie, straightening it. “Eventually they’ll be tempted to touch.”
She’s baiting me.
Even knowing that, possessive feelings rise to the fore. “It’ll be their life in payment for that touch.”
“So dramatic.” She tsks and moves away, giving me view of her generous ass. An ass that could send a man to his knees in order to worship it properly. I shake my head, pushing away my desire. Attempting to. Jasmine scoops up a white towel and starts drying her hair. “There’s an easy solution, Jafar. Give me clothes. Then you don’t have to worry about your men staring at my pussy every time I bend over.” She gives me an innocent look, all large eyes and pouting lips. “I bend over a lot. It’s distracting them.”
She blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You bend over a lot, Jasmine? Seems to me that you like tormenting men simply trying to do their job.” I force myself still, force myself to wait to see what she’ll do.
Jasmine drops the towel. “Oops.” She turns and bends at the waist to pick it up, moving slow, her legs parted just enough that, yes, I get an excellent view of her pussy.
“Don’t move.”
She freezes, her hand on the towel. “If I had clothes, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
I push off the wall and move toward her slowly. “If you think that, you don’t know much about men at all.”
“Well, I was a virgin until like twenty-four hours ago, so …”
Something like guilt rises in the wake of her words. Virginity might be nothing but a social construct, but her inexperience combined with my fucking her on the floor like we’re animals? I press a hand to the small of her back. “Are you sore?”
She draws in a sharp breath like she’s about to rip me a new one, and then curses softly. “I’m fine. Your cock is impressive, but not that impressive.”
I smile, knowing she can’t see the reaction. “Spread your legs wider. If you’re going to give me a show, do it properly.”
“You’re so freaking bossy, Jafar. I should start calling you Daddy.”
My cock goes so hard, I have to pause to keep from freeing it and driving into her right here and now. “You should.” I palm her pussy, laughing hoarsely to find her drenched. Of course she is. Jasmine loves these games as much as I do, even if she fights me every step of the way.
Because she fights me every step of the way.
I scoop her up, ignoring her protests, and stride to the elevator. A few minutes later, I haul her into her bathroom. “Stay.”
“Bossy,” she mutters.
I turn on the water, test the temperature, and then strip. Even with the time constraints in mind, I slow down, enjoying the way Jasmine’s eyes go wide with every piece of clothing I take off. When I’m finally naked, I bracket her wrist and pull her into the shower. There’s a tiled bench along one side of it, and that’s my goal. I guide her down and crouch between her spread thighs. “Did you like Tink?”
She blinks. “Is that a trick question?”
I run my hands from her ankles up to her bruised knees and touch them gently. A quick kiss to each of them has her shaking in response. “It’s a question requiring an answer.”
Jasmine licks her bottom lip and allows me to arrange her on the very edge of the bench. “Tink is like one of those tiny, vicious dogs. She’s short, but she might be the meanest person I’ve ever met.”
“Mmm.” I squeeze her thighs, urging them wider. “And did you like her?”
“Yes … Daddy.” She says the word as if trying it out. Jasmine makes a face. “Why is that so sexy?”
“That’s an answer you have to figure out for yourself.” I mold my hands against her hips and up her waist to her full breasts. By now, she’s shaking with need. I’d like an entire night to acquaint myself with her body, her reactions, her.
We don’t have a night.
We have less than an hour.
I run my hands over her arms, noting the bruises on her elbows. I smooth a hand down the center of her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, parting my fingers to drag along either side of her pussy. “Are you going to be good tonight?”
She holds herself perfectly still, barely seeming to breathe. “I don’t know. I kind of enjoy being bad.”
“I’m aware.” I part her and idly run my thumb over her clit. “Nothing wrong with enjoying the fight, but the importance of obedience cannot be overstated.” I finally meet her gaze. “You think you can control things by pushing and snapping and drawing the reaction you want. You can’t. You want something? Ask for it. When I feel like you’ve earned it, it will be my pleasure to give it to you.”
She wets her lips again. “Okay, fine. I’ll play. Lick my pussy. Please.”
Got you.
I dip down and give her a long lick up the center. Fuck, but she tastes divine. I should end it there, should prove my point, but I allow myself to suck her clit, to explore her with my mouth the same way I have with my hands. Her thighs quiver on either side of my head and fuck if I don’t love how she’s trying to be good and hold still, not wanting this to end any more than I do.
Unfortunately, we’re on a time limit.
I give her pussy one last thorough kiss. Enough to pull her to the edge but nowhere near enough to push her over. Then I raise my head. “Be a good girl tonight and I’ll reward you.”
“You are such a bastard,” she whispers.
I push to my feet and pull her up to join me. It’s quick work to soap her up and then wash her hair. Another thing I’d enjoy taking more time with. Another thing I have to put to the side for tonight. For once, Jasmine doesn’t fight me. She just stands there and passively follows orders. It won’t last, but if I wanted a passive submissive, I could have found one long before now.
I shut the shower off. “Get dressed and meet me at the front door in forty-five minutes.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She uses the term as a weapon, sugary sweet with a venomous center.
That’s my girl.
I scoop up my clothes and stalk out of the room, leaving her staring after me. The temptation to turn around, to drag her to bed and play out a new kind of game, is almost too much to resist. I have to maintain control, though. Tonight is too important.
The Underworld is a sex club, but it’s so much more complex than that. Sex is one of its main attractions, yes, but power eclipses all else. Every major player in Carver City has a membership there, and it’s where we conduct deals over drinks and occasionally a blowjob. No violence is allowed, on threat of expulsion and being eighty-sixed for all time. All stand equal before the owner, Hades, and though the only territory he rules is The Underworld itself, he’s arguably the most powerful person in the city.
Bringing Jasmine there sends a clear message to everyone who matters. Balthazar is out. I’m the new ruler of his territory. It also should cut Ali off from anyone looking to ally themselves with him.
It’s more than that, though. I want to use our new standing to solidify power, yes, but I also want to see what Jasmine thinks of the club. Even watching her reactions as we drove through the city was a revelation. I can’t wait to see the way her eyes go wide, to see what gets her hot, to explore with her.
I stop in the middle of pulling on a clean pair of pants.
Yes, I can enjoy myself tonight, but I can’t afford to take my eyes from the prize. Getting lost in Jasmine, as appealing as it sounds, is not the endgame. In fact, it may just distract from the endgame.
I can’t afford to be distracted.
Even by her.
Especially by her.
Chapter 7
Jasmine
In between leaving me in my room to get ready and meeting me at the door, something changes with Jafar. He barely looks at me in my scandalous red dress before he whisks me down to the car and we’re driving into the night.
I put it from my mind. A chance to be free of the penthouse is too important to worry about where his head has gone. It’s not as if he’ll confide in me. I’m a pet to be taken care of. Something occasionally entertaining, but nowhere near a full partner.
A full partner.
The thought seems ludicrous. Nowhere in the world I move in is there a chance for people to see me as anything but a possession. I hate that. Just because I have a vagina doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be as good a ruler as my father—better than my father. Instead, I am a pawn to be moved about on someone else’s chessboard. My father ensured that before. Jafar ensures that now. He might as well slap a collar around my throat and attach a leash.
The thought sends a shiver through me. I wish with all my heart I could say it’s unpleasant, but the truth is far more complicated. I crave things I don’t
understand. Crave things I shouldn’t.
Oh, I understand kink, at least in theory. I’ve read far and wide, and the books I invariable gravitate towards are hot enough to melt my e-reader. They spin fantasies that had me reaching into my drawer for a vibrator more times than I can count.
This is different. This isn’t a story with a happily ever after waiting at the end.
Real life has no such guarantees.
Real life is messy and complicated and dangerous in ways that have nothing to do with my bodily health and everything to do with my soul.
“What’s got you thinking so hard over there that you’re not watching the city around us?”
I jump. I can’t help it.
Jafar seems to melt out of the darkness on the other side of the town car. He’s dressed to kill tonight, his black suit expensive and expertly tailored, his dove gray shirt beneath it pressed within an inch of its life. The clothing should dampen his dangerous aura, but somehow it only brings it into sharp focus. This man is a predator. No one with half a brain who looks at him will believe anything else.
He waits for me to answer, and I spend a useless moment waffling between truth and fiction. In the end, I know he’ll accept nothing less than the former. “What is tonight supposed to accomplish?”
“I’m taking you to a sex club. It’s going to accomplish you orgasming half a dozen times.”
“Liar.”
He arches his brows. “That’s quite a tone you’ve taken.” Mild. So mild as he issues his non-threats. If I keep pushing him, keep lashing out, will he punish me? Perhaps he’ll put me over his knee right here in the back seat, shove my dress up and …
Focus, Jasmine.
I clear my throat, fighting for control. Fighting to appear just as calm and collected as he is despite the fact my heart wants to thunder right out of my chest. “You are perfectly capable of bringing me to orgasm half a dozen times in the penthouse. You have an agenda for tonight, and I would like to know what it is since I’m taking part in your plans.”
