by B. B. Hamel
“I won’t, I promise. So long as you promise to be my maid of honor.”
She practically glowed as a smile split her face in half. “You’re really doing it? He said something about that. I thought it was a joke.”
“I don’t have much choice.” I looked at my lap and shrugged. “I figure, if it’s happening, I’d like you there.”
“Then I’ll be right next to you the whole time.” Penny walked over and took my hand. “It’ll be okay. Darren’s all bark.”
“I think your brother has more bite than you realize.”
Her face clouded as she squeezed my fingers, but she didn’t argue. She walked to the door and waved before leaving.
It shut gently behind her and I collapsed back onto the bed.
My head spun with my story, with my mother’s suffering and the bad years that followed, and with the revelation about Roman.
I couldn’t sit on this. I couldn’t just stew.
I hopped up, walked into the hall, and went in search of Darren.
16
Winter
I found Darren in his office poring over documents. He looked tired, haggard almost, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the top button of his black dress shirt left open. He barely glanced up as I stepped into the room.
“Close the door.”
I hesitated, but did as instructed. He still didn’t look over. I drifted to a chair near the fire and felt a strange chill, despite the heat that rolled out from the flames.
“I assumed you’d be hiding in your room for the next week.”
I looked at him. He leaned back in his chair, a glass of something brown in his hand.
“I planned on it until I spoke with Penny.”
He frowned slightly. “I thought we had an agreement.”
“That was before you said we were getting married. Now I think all our previous contracts are null and void.”
He laughed at that. I liked his laugh—low and throaty and genuine. “That’s fair enough. I suppose I can’t keep you from my family if you’re going to be my wife.”
“No, you really can’t.”
“What did my youngest sister have to say for herself?”
“She told me about Anthony.”
His demeanor changed in an instant. His fingers gripped the glass tighter as his face crumbled into a scowl. He didn’t move for a long moment, but his stare said so much more than words ever could. He radiated anger and hurt and betrayal like the fireplace radiated warmth. I wrapped my arms around myself, but forced myself not to look away.
I stepped right into danger, but I had no other choice.
There were too many secrets, and I was intent on peeling one away tonight.
“What exactly did she tell you?” His tone was short and clipped.
“About your mother and Roman’s father.”
He looked away finally. It was as if I’d punched him in the stomach. He threw back the whiskey and sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You were going to find out sooner or later. But I wish Penny had spoken to me about it first.”
“I don’t think she planned on saying anything, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t.” He stood and walked to the side table. He poured more liquor and held up the decanter. “Whiskey?”
I shook my head. He poured me a drink anyway and brought it over.
I accepted more to have something to do with my hands than to drink. I sipped the liquor and let the burn slowly fall down my throat.
He paced away, seething.
“I can’t imagine what you think of my mother.”
“That’s what you’re upset about? My opinion of your mom?”
“Family matters to me more than anything else in this world. Liv—”
“Why do you always bring her up? It’s like she’s constantly in the room, but nobody wants to actually say anything about her.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’ll tell you about her another day. I think one family secret is enough for tonight.” I accepted that wordlessly. He kept pacing. “Family is everything to me, especially since Liv passed. I can see how fragile it all is, and I’ll do anything to hold it together. Reputation may not matter much to you, but it means more than anything to my mother, and she’d die if her secret was released to the world.”
My mouth fell open and I covered my sudden shock by sipping my whiskey.
I had power over them.
His mother’s feelings mattered to Darren. He didn’t want her reputation to suffer over this little secret—and that might work in my favor.
But could I really use it against them? And how would I even do that? Threaten to release it into the world. Somehow get a message out to Cassie.
Ruin poor Charleigh in the process. The woman wasn’t exactly nice, but she hadn’t directly done anything to me.
Only went along with her insane son’s plan to kidnap and marry me.
Which, incidentally, so did Penny, and she was the one that spilled the secret to begin with.
Revealing that information about Anthony wouldn’t only hurt Charleigh. It would impact Darren and Penny and probably Erin. The whole family would suffer.
Could I do that to Penny? To the sweet girl that cried when I told her my sad story?
I think I could. Given the right situation.
Her brother did kidnap me, after all.
For now, I’d stay quiet and wait. There might be another way out of this mess without hurting Penny.
“I understand feeling some sort of way about your mother having an affair with Roman’s father, but why do you hate Roman?” I tapped my finger against the whiskey glass.
Darren stared darkly at the midnight black window. Lights from a nearby town sparkled in the distance.
“At first, we had no issue. I knew Roman was Anthony’s half-brother, but it didn’t seem to matter. My mother gave birth to Anthony and he was just our brother. But when I turned twenty, and Anthony was ten, Roman did something that I’ll never forgive.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“What happened?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Roman tried to kill Anthony. Shot him in the shoulder and barely missed his heart.”
I took a step backwards. “You’re lying.”
“I’m sure Anthony would show you the scar.” Darren smiled ruefully and watched me closely. “Do you think Roman is a good man? Are you so convinced that he’s decent just because he loves your friend?”
“I think you’re all monsters.”
“Damn right we are. But at least I protect the people I love.” Darren threw back the second drink then slammed the glass down onto his desk. He walked toward me, radiating rage and animal lust. I nearly backed into the fire and only just stopped myself in time.
He reached forward and grabbed my waist, pulling me against him. I let out a surprised yelp as he crushed his lips against my neck then shoved me down into a chair. I hit hard and would’ve fallen backwards if he didn’t put a foot down on the seat and kept it steady.
My heart lurched and hammered as he knelt down in front of me.
“We were at a party. Back then, we mingled in the same circle. We’re around the same age. I had no clue Roman was going to try something that night, but he convinced me to bring Anthony out with us, then lured my stupid little brother off alone. Roman pulled a gun and squeezed the trigger. One shot was all he got off. Luckily, I was already on my way to find them when I heard it. I tackled Roman, broke his nose, shattered his wrist, and would’ve killed him if it weren’t for security. The poor bastard’s house we were at was livid that Roman nearly killed a ten-year-old on his property, but at that point, I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought.”
He went silent. I stared into his face and tried to imagine going through that. They were friends once, a long time ago—or at least close enough to friends. Then one night, Roman tried to murder a little kid.
I couldn’t begin to imagine doing something like that.
And yet I knew Dar
ren wasn’t lying. I saw the fresh rage and sorrow in his face, how it bubbled up from inside of him, impossibly thick and dangerous. His hands gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me and I was trapped in his memories, in his suffering. His chin tilted up and he stared into my eyes.
“He tried to kill a ten-year-old boy. What sort of psychopath does something like that?”
“There had to have been a reason.”
“I don’t give a damn if he was the best reason in the world. He tried to murder a child.” His knuckles turned white. “If I hadn’t been there, I would’ve lost my brother.”
I touched his chin. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” He leaned into my touch. “But now you know why we hate each other. Ever since then, I’ve worked to try to destroy him, and he’s worked to try to do the same. I don’t know why he did what he did, and I don’t care what his reasons were. Roman is a monster, and any Oligarch that would back him is just as bad.”
“And you’re not?”
He flinched at the question. His face softened. “No, but I don’t blame you for thinking I am.”
“You kidnapped me. You want to force me to marry you. All for this vendetta.” I dug my fingers into his cheek. “An admittedly good vendetta, but still. How long ago was that? Over a decade now?”
“This is about justice.”
“It’s about a personal war. Does Anthony want this?”
He frowned as if he’d never considered it. “Of course.”
“You should ask him sometime.”
He pushed my hand away suddenly and sat up, leaning over me. I stared as he moved inches away from my face, his lips soft and inviting, hanging open, his body tense and hard like an animal ready to spring. I realized how much danger I was in, and somehow that only made the pulse between my legs beat faster.
“You think you know me and my family, but you have no clue. Your petty little life’s been meaningless before me. I’m offering you a chance to make a mark on the world, and you’re still so small that you can’t see it.”
“Go to hell.” My anger flared hot. I tried to shove him away, but he didn’t move.
“Good, get angry. I love it when you’re angry. I don’t want to think about Roman anymore. I don’t want to think about Anthony, or my mother, or any of them. I want you to hate me with everything you have, because that’ll drown this fucked-up darkness I have simmering inside of me, drown it with your beautiful disgust.”
He buried his lips against mine. I struggled weakly—I didn’t want him to move, didn’t want him to get away—as his tongue slipped between my teeth. He bit me, his fingers dug into my hips, and I was swept off my feet, sent somewhere wild and stupid and heady.
But he wasn’t satisfied with a kiss. His hands tugged at my jeans, unbuttoned them, pulled them off. I pawed at him weakly, stupidly, pretending to want him to stop but not putting up any real resistance at all. I liked the fake struggle, and my dignity demanded that I pretend to want this to stop—but god, dignity, who the hell cared about dignity? I had beautiful trouble between my legs. I couldn’t bother with dignity anymore.
He shoved my knees apart, ripped my shirt up over my heaving breasts shaking with every rough breath, and kissed my stomach down to my pussy.
My black panties were stained dark where my juices soaked through.
He let out a growl of pleasure as he licked me all around my panties, ruining them, sucking my taste out before ripping them forward. He tore them and tossed them aside, worthless and dripping, a pile on the rug. His eyes sparkled with dark desires as he rolled his fingers along my wet slit.
“You know what I love the most about you, Winter?” His voice was a velvet rope around my throat.
“What?” I tried not to moan and that only made the pleasure so much better.
“You can’t pretend, but you try anyway. I like that. You walk around here as if you hate me, as if you’re better than me, but as soon as I come close, your knees start shaking and your pussy’s dripping and you’re practically down on all fours begging me to fuck your slick cunt. I can see right through your bullshit, love.”
He teased me, riding a fingertip along my lips. I needed him to plunge inside of me.
“It’s not bullshit.” I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. He grunted and grinned wickedly, throat bobbing. The stubble on his neck was gorgeous and a light brown tinged with some red. “I do hate you, Darren. You’re a selfish bastard that thinks he knows what’s good for everyone around him.”
“You’re damn right I do.” He slipped one finger inside of me. I gasped and whimpered. God, I wanted that so badly. I wanted so much more. “You live in a tiny, isolated little world and you have no clue the sort of beasts that lurk in the shadows. You’ve been protected, love. But you’re in the pit now.”
Another finger. Fuck, it was incredible. My head swam. My fingers tensed in his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt. I wanted to rip out a chunk and make him scream.
“I’m in the pit because you brought me here.”
“And I’ll keep you.” He fucked me slowly with his fingers and rubbed his thumb against my clit. I gasped and moaned as pleasure rocked down my spine and I felt an orgasm already sitting on the tip of my tongue. He must’ve realized, because he pulled back, and I let out a soft, shocked groan of anger.
He laughed and shoved my legs open wider, my pussy glistening in the firelight, and he lapped me up with his tongue, top to bottom.
Pleasure bloomed like a gunshot. I threw back my head as his lips and tongue and mouth did things I’d never dreamed of before. My back arched and every muscle tensed as pleasure rode along that edge between perfect and too much, keeping me right in that zone where I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or beg or cry.
Until his fingers began to fuck me again while his tongue and lips sucked me, and I knew I was finished. “Darren,” I whispered, moving my hips to his rhythm. “Darren, oh, god, I want you to taste me.”
I came so hard the edges of my vision turned blurry and black. I said his name in one long, gasping moan, but he didn’t stop. His tongue kept licking, sliding down to suck me clean, lapping me up and taking every drop as I slowly came back down from the stratosphere, my legs shaking, a stupid smile on my lips.
He leaned back to stare at me, and there was love in his expression.
I’d never seen that before from him, but it was there. Real, genuine adoration, like I was his masterpiece and he couldn’t get enough of me. I felt a blush turn my skin a deep red as I looked away. My shirt was up over my bra-covered breasts and my lower body was bare, and I felt so exposed.
I went to cover myself, but he stopped me. “Don’t move.”
I bit my lip. He unbuckled his belt. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t move,” he said again and pulled down his slacks. I stared as he reached into his boxer briefs and slowly stroked himself. He stared at my breasts and I adjusted myself slightly—pulling my shirt up higher. His face contorted in conflicted pleasure and a sudden urge rocked through my body. The way he looked at me, his hard cock, the way he touched himself—it made me mindless with sudden arousal.
I reached behind me and unhooked my bra. It fell forward and I pulled it up as he leaned forward to take a nipple between his lips. He licked it, sucked it, and growled with a deep animalistic frenzy. He stroked himself faster and reached up to pull my hair back. I gasped in surprise and felt the tingling between my legs intensify.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, staring into my eyes. “Say the words.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
He pulled me from the chair and turned me around. I put my knees up on the seat as he grabbed my hips, pressed his tip against my soaked entrance, then plunged himself inside.
I gasped as he filled me to the brim.
I’d never felt something like it before. His cock was massive and bottomed out against my cervix, pressing to my very deepest ends. I threw my head
back as he gripped my hips then wrapped a hand around my throat. He kissed me, tilting my chin back, and slowly fucked me with his wildly hard cock.
“I dreamed about this since the moment I met you,” he whispered. “You got under my skin that first day in your apartment. I thought you were nothing, just another bit player in a larger game, but you stuck with me, love. I kept dreaming about your taste, your pussy, your lips. I imagined how you’d feel from the inside, but this, oh, god, love, this is so much better than I pictured.”
He moved faster, slick cock sliding in and out. I worked my hips, bucking against him, breasts shaking. I took off my shirt and let my bra fall off. I was naked and didn’t care, didn’t give a damn as he slammed into me faster, gripping my ass, slapping it hard.
I moaned his name. I didn’t think I could come again, but god, he proved me wrong. His cock took me, stretched me, and wrecked me, and he showed no signs of slowing down. His hands reached around my hips to rub my clit and I screamed in pleasure as my back arched and sweat dripped off my body. I breathed hard, exhausted, mindless, insane with need and so close, god, so close to that release.
He went faster, bit my shoulder, spanked my ass harder. I’d have bruises, red marks. I didn’t care. I wanted the wounds, all of them. I wanted him to leave me battered and moaning and broken.
Only to build me back up and shatter me all over again.
“You drive me wild, Winter. Your mouth, your hips. Do you know how hard I am right now? Your tight cunt wrapped around my cock makes me want to walk away from my life and spend the rest of my days giving you pleasure. This is why I want to make you my wife. I need this every day, your obedience, your body, your lips and moans and screams. I want you to come for me then lick me clean and swallow every drop. I need you, Winter.”
He grabbed my hair and as he pulled, the orgasm ripped down my spine. I lost control for one blissful second as the pain of his hand against my scalp and the overwhelming pleasure of his cock slammed together and drove me over the edge into some new abyss I hadn’t known existed. I think I said his name, or begged him to keep going, or made some kind of sound, but for several seconds, I lost all connection with the physical world, and there was only pleasure.
