by BJ Bentley
“Greedy for my attentions this morning, pixie?” he teased.
In answer, I spread my legs and lifted my pelvis so my pussy rubbed over his abs. He growled at my brazenness, flipped me over, and hoisted my ass into the air. When I tried to turn to look at him, he gave my ass a light slap.
“Stay still. If you move, I will punish you.”
I gulped at the threat at the same time my nipples hardened painfully at the promise. I felt him move away from me, and then I felt his tongue at the back of one knee. He flicked his tongue from the back of my knee up to the curve of my buttcheek. Then he repeated the process on the other leg. His fingers fluttered up the front of my thighs as he curled his body over me to lay soft, wet kisses across my back. He took his time paying attention to each part of my body except where I wanted him the most. He drew his hands across my ass until he held a cheek in each hand.
“I’m going to take you now, pixie,” he growled.
“Finally,” I sassed with frustration.
He chuckled and slipped two fingers inside me, pulling them back out and spreading my wetness backward toward my… Oh, no.
“Jensen, I don’t think…” I shook my head as I tried to pull away.
“Stay still, pixie. I won’t warn you again,” he declared roughly.
“Jensen,” I tried again, but he interrupted me.
“Pixie, you must learn that you belong to me. All of you. I know what I walked in on that night, and I’m claiming it for myself,” he declared.
With that, he continued to lube me with my own juices, and then I felt a finger, maybe a thumb, breach my hole. I tried to shut out the flashback I had of Keith violating me that way, but I tensed up.
“Relax, pixie. I will make it good for you,” he cooed.
I pushed back against him, thinking if he just got it over with, I wouldn’t have time to freak out. He nipped one cheek with his teeth, and it sent a shiver coursing through me. He must have decided I was sufficiently lubed and stretched because the next thing I knew, he was pushing his cock into me.
“Ow!”
He paused. “You have to relax, sweetheart.”
“Relax?! Your giant cock is in my asshole!” I yelled.
“That’s right, pixie, my huge, thick cock is in your tight little asshole, and I’m going to fuck your tight little asshole, and your pussy is going to cream,” he finished on what almost sounded like a purr.
His dirty talk did exactly what it was designed to do. Make me beg.
“Please fuck me now, Jensen,” I whimpered.
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed as he began to stroke in and out.
He was right when he said he owned me. He worked my body over with the same finesse I used when cracking a sophisticated safe. Every touch the perfect amount of pressure, every movement made at just the right angle. When he reached around to circle my clit with one finger, I exploded, and I knew my pieces would never fit back together the same way again.
The next several weeks passed in much the same way. When Jensen wasn’t working, we were in bed. Or on the dining room table. Up against the wall. In the pool. One time, he even took me bent over the kitchen island when Sarah was out picking up groceries. I made sure to sanitize the countertop before she came home. I had broached the subject of a possible pregnancy with Jensen, since we weren’t exactly being safe, when he informed me that he had taken it upon himself to have his personal physician give me a birth control shot when I first got here. The shot that I had assumed was pain medication or something else related to the concussion I had at the time. Presumptuous bastard. But then he gave me another orgasm, and I forgave him. I was so easy.
The only other blip in those blissful weeks was the evening that Aleksander and Rafael showed up at the house. They had heard about Jensen’s accident through the grapevine and showed up demanding to know why they hadn’t heard about it from him. I shamelessly eavesdropped from the doorway, unobserved, as Jensen explained to the men what happened. They seemed more surprised about the fact that Jensen seemed to be invested in me than they were about the accident or the fact that Keith had been a raging psychopath hell bent on betrayal. Not wanting either of the two visitors to spot me, I turned to leave, but I must have somehow alerted Jensen to my presence because he called my name.
“Charlotte, you remember Aleksander and Rafael?” Jensen asked.
Noticing my obvious discomfort, the lighter haired one of bunch, Aleksander, stepped forward with a genuine smile and said, “Charlotte. It’s nice to officially meet you. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
I realized with a scowl that he was referencing what I went through with Keith but not at all sorry for what happened the last time the four of us were in a room together. Jensen obviously caught on to my train of thought.
“I’ve informed Charlotte that what happened before would not happen again,” he announced.
Rafael looked to Jensen with surprise. “You’ve claimed her?” he asked.
“I have. Every inch of her,” he added, making my face flush scarlet.
“Was that really necessary, you Neanderthal?” I demanded to know, exasperated.
He grinned and planted a quick kiss on my temple.
Both Aleksander and Rafael looked on with shocked, but amused, expressions.
As uncomfortable as that interaction was for me, it was thankfully short lived, as the two men said their goodbyes and were gone. That was a little over a month ago, and now Chace and I were lounging by the pool behind the extravagant mansion Jensen called a home. I had to be very careful. A girl could get used to this.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Chace asked, staring off across the property.
“Who?”
“Sokolov. Do you think he’s looking for us?”
“I don’t know.” I had wondered that as well a time or two. “I was kind of hoping he’d forget about us,” I said, even though I knew it was stupid.
“Come on, Char. Men like Sokolov don’t just forget about the people who try to steal from them. Or the people who are stolen out from under them, for that matter,” Chace said, swirling the rapidly melting ice in his iced tea. “They hunt them down, torture them mercilessly, and then kill them slowly.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I sighed. “Maybe he knows we’re under Jensen’s protection. Or maybe he doesn’t even know where we are,” I said hopefully.
“I’d be willing to bet he knows exactly where we are. Men like Sokolov, hell, men like Jensen, have well-paid eyes and ears all over this city,” Chace said.
I nodded because Chace was not wrong. Men like Sokolov and Jensen were rich and powerful, and money talked. Especially in a place like Las Vegas.
“I’m going for a swim,” I said as I shed my cover-up and dove into the deep end. Maybe some laps would clear my mind.
“I’m leaving.”
“You can’t be serious, Chace! You’re going to get yourself killed! You said yourself that Sokolov doesn’t let these things go. He’ll hunt you down, and then I will be without my brother! My best friend!”
I was freaking out. Chace got it in his head that he wanted to take another job, but this time he would be working alone, because I was here. With Jensen.
“How did you even hear about this job?” I asked. “You’ve been holed up in Jensen’s penthouse for the most part, and I know when you do go out, it’s with an armed guard.”
“I’ve still got contacts, Char. It wasn’t hard to keep my finger on things, even when I was on lockdown,” he said with a shrug.
“I’ll tell Jensen that I’m going with you,” I decided.
Chace started laughing uncontrollably. “Right, Char. Wait, I’ll go with you when you tell him. I want to see his reaction for myself,” he said as he wiped a fake tear away with one finger.
Chace ended up being correct, of course. Jensen’s response to my request was a resounding “FUCK NO.” I really hadn’t expected anything less, but I had to try.
Chapter
15
Jensen
When I was seven, I witnessed my first murder. Two, actually. One of my father’s men had been fucking one of the housekeepers in the pantry. I stumbled upon them when I wandered downstairs for a late night snack. I didn’t understand what fucking was at that age, but I was fascinated by the act that I witnessed, so I hid in the shadows and watched the man wrap a hand around the housekeeper’s throat and squeezed. She struggled, but I didn’t understand that it wasn’t part of their game until her lips turned blue and she went limp in his arms.
When my father’s man realized I was lurking in the shadows, he dragged me in front of my father and demanded my father teach me about minding my own business. My father asked me what it was that I found so interesting that I felt the need to spy. When I told him what I saw, he didn’t miss a beat as he pulled out his gun and shot his man dead. My father didn’t take kindly to one of his subordinates questioning his authority or his parenting skills, but he especially didn’t condone violence against someone who was under his protection.
By the time I was twelve, I already knew how to handle a gun. By sixteen, I was proficient in both jiu-jitsu and Muay Thai. Growing up in my father’s world and following in his footsteps required that I know how to defend myself. I earned enemies at an early age, based solely on who my father was. As I got older, I earned my own enemies due to my own actions, some knowingly and some unknowingly.
Alaric Holm was powerful in his own right, in his own time. Like me, he had both legitimate and illegitimate businesses. But compared to me, his wealth and his power were small time. He was king of Las Vegas. King of Nevada, even. But me? I’m king of the entirety of the southern United States and half of Latin America.
I don’t remember much of my mother growing up. My father seemed to be under the impression that she got pregnant with me on purpose in order to trap him. She lived here with us for awhile, but once it became apparent she had more interest in spending my father’s money than she had in actually raising her son, my father kicked her out. I saw her once or twice as an adult, and last I heard she was married to some schmuck who was dumb enough to try to give her everything she wanted. They lived in Sarasota according to the last Christmas card I got from her. Six years ago.
The point is, I’ve lived this life for a long time. I was literally born to it. I knew how men like me think, and I knew how men like Dmetri Sokolov think. And Charlotte must have been out of her Goddamn mind if she thought, for even a second, I was going to let her go off on some half-baked job with her brother. Absolutelyfuckingnot.
So, in order to get Charlotte’s focus off her brother, and back on me, where it belonged, I proposed a night out on the town. With an armed escort, of course. I would keep our activities to my own properties for the sake of convenience. My employees all knew me on sight, and the security at my properties was the very best that money could buy. She would be safe there.
“Get dressed, pixie, we’re going out tonight.”
“Where are we going?” she asked over her shoulder.
We were laying in my, now our, bed where I had just finished fucking some sense into her. My chest swelled with some sort of male satisfaction at the sight of my come running down her thigh. Her body was limp and sated next to me, her skin glistening with a slight sheen of our mixed sweat.
“It’s a surprise. But dress casually.”
“Casually? So, we’re not going to the casino?” she asked.
“Not this time, pixie. Come on, up,” I commanded with a smack to her ass.
We pulled into the parking lot of L'Ecrevisse, the Cajun seafood restaurant I owned.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said before running in to grab the dinner I had called ahead to order while Charlotte was getting ready earlier.
Back in the car, with the food, we drove to the same high rise apartment building where I’d been housing Chace. I typically use the penthouse apartment for visiting friends and/or business associates, but since Chace has decided to tempt fate by going off on his own, unprotected, it’s sitting empty.
Inside, I ushered Charlotte to the wall comprised of floor to ceiling windows. I tossed a few blankets and pillows into a pile on the floor and urged her to sit. We divided up the food and enjoyed our meal on the floor while taking in the bright lights of Las Vegas below. There weren’t any flowers or soft music, but it was about as romantic as a guy like me could get.
“This is really nice,” Charlotte said softly.
“I’m sorry it’s not roses and candlelight,” I apologized.
“No, no. This really is nice. Simple. I like it,” she said shyly. “The view is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed, but I wasn’t looking at the city below. I was looking at the blonde haired, green eyed dynamo next to me. The one with the petite body and the lush curves. The one with the smart mouth and the feisty attitude. The one that made my dick hard. The one I’d kill for. The one who, I then realized, could break my fucking heart.
By the time we finished our seafood platters of shrimp, catfish, and crab, I had decided it was time to show Charlotte a little bit more of what made me Jensen Holm. She wasn’t exactly dressed properly for what I had in mind, but I figured I could get around it. Charlotte went to wash up, and I made a call to Rafael.
Chapter 16
Charlotte
I stood in the bathroom, gazing at myself in the mirror while I washed the scent of seafood off my hands. Who knew that a simple meal in a simple setting with a complicated man could have made me feel all girly inside? Jensen had the potential to make me fall in love with him, and that was dangerous. I dried my hands and tried to steel my heart as I walked back out into the living area of the penthouse.
“Are we leaving already?” I asked when I saw Jensen talking to one of his men by the door.
“Yes. I have something I want to show you,” he replied.
Thirty minutes later, we were hustled into the back entrance of a building I never thought I’d find myself in.
“What is this place?” I asked, shocked but curious.
“It’s called Bound. It’s Rafael’s,” he said.
We were escorted into a private room, and I was thankful for two reasons. One, I was way under dressed for a place with this much class, and two, I was a bit uncomfortable with the few looks I got on the way in. Even though there was no explicit activities taking place in my line of vision, I wasn’t completely naive. We were in a sex club. A sex club owned by Rafael, apparently.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked nervously. The room were in had both a bed and a love seat that faced a wall of glass that looked into a similarly designed room next door.
“Relax, pixie. We’re just here to observe,” he nodded toward the wall of glass. “It’s a two way mirror. We can see them,” he indicated the couple entering the adjacent room, “but they can’t see us.”
“Do you come here often?” I said, cringing when I realized it sounded like a cheesy pick up line.
Jensen shrugged. “I used to, yes. I like to watch, and sometimes to be watched.” He must have read my mind, because he continued, “But I will not let anyone else see you, pixie. You are mine and mine alone.” He gently chucked me under the chin with one finger.
Movement in the next room caught my attention. I watched as a man and a woman slowly stripped the clothes off of one another to the soundtrack of The Weeknd’s “Feel it Coming.” The song was a perfect fit for the sensual display. I watched in fascination as they caressed and fondled each other. It wasn’t overtly sexual or explicit, but rather sweet and loving.
“Are they a real couple?” I asked.
“Yes. Max and Carrie are members here. Exhibitionism is only one of their proclivities.”
“I could tell. That they’re a couple, I mean. They seem very ...attuned to one another, I guess.”
“They are. Not every pairing in the club carries over outside the club, however. A lot of single people come here only looking
for a partner for the evening. Someone to act out a scene with and then they part ways,” he explained.
I made a noncommittal sound as I continued to watch the couple who was now kissing. Surprisingly, I felt myself getting aroused. Who knew I had an inner voyeur? Max and Carrie continued to kiss and stroke each other in various places. A touch on the cheek, a caress on the waist. The more I watched, the more aroused I became.
Jensen stepped behind me and slowly wrapped his arms around my waist until he could grab the hem of my shirt. He pulled it up over my head and tossed it aside. He ran his hands over my shoulders, unclasped and discarded my bra, and then continued his journey down my back. His lips were at my temple, placing soft, sweet kisses there. His hands circled my waist again, this time going for the button of my jeans. Slowly peeling them down my legs, he urged me to step out of them, losing my shoes in the process. I stood there in only my panties, when Jensen came around to kneel in front of me.
