by M. Robinson
He gave it to me. Four fingers right to his knuckles, twisting and thrusting, twisting and thrusting. I could hear how wet I was as I took him.
This wasn’t being fucked by his fingers, not anymore. I wanted more than that now, and he wanted to give me more, every single time. He wanted me to take his fist and not his fingers. He wanted me to take it as brutally as he wanted to give it, making me his whore of a wife every time.
“Remember how you moaned for me, when you really shouldn’t have?” he growled, and I nodded.
“Yeah, I remember. I always will.”
“I could tear this dress right off you. Make you walk through our family ball like a dirty little slut for everyone to see.”
“Would be a shame to ruin the gown, don’t you think?” I laughed, wriggling harder. “I wouldn’t want to wreck the chance of having this effect on you again.”
I wasn’t expecting it when he pulled his fingers out of me and twisted me around. My breasts hit the wall and it made me moan, my face turned to the side, cheek pressed against the tiles.
He tugged my panties off, dropping them at my feet with his hand still on my back, holding me in position.
I knew it was going to be a rough one when he didn’t spit on his fingers.
“Spread your ass for me,” he told me. “Show me that dirty little hole.”
I did as I was told, taking a breath as I steadied myself.
It was even rougher than I expected, three fingers slamming inside.
“Fuck…”
“Yeah,” he said. “You want to play the game, to tease me, you can live in the memories too.”
The memories were there in me, as strongly as they must be in him. The fear, and the forbidden. The being in a place I shouldn’t be, taking what I shouldn’t be, from the man I shouldn’t be with. My family nemesis whose venom wanted to destroy me, long and slow.
Only now that man was my family. That man had given me a family. That man held my soul.
“This is going to hurt,” he grunted and unzipped his pants.
Yes. I hoped so. I needed it. I needed to feel his force, and aggression and his power. I needed to feel him consume me and take me right back to the beginning, when I’d known he was the most powerful man in the world. The safety in that knowledge was a light in my heart.
He took my ass in one thrust, his dick slamming deep, right to the balls. Yes… I whimpered, shuffling because it hurt, but he didn’t hold back. I cried out when he forced a finger in alongside his cock, but he used his other hand to cover my mouth, biting at my shoulder as he did it.
“Fucking take it,” he said, and I whimpered. I’d take it.
I tried to hold back the muffled cries, but I couldn’t. Not as he forced a second finger in my ass, leaving it deep as he fucked me. It hurt. It really hurt. Hearing his breaths quicken made me glow. Fuck, he loved taking me like that. Fuck, how I loved pleasing him.
I pushed back against him, matching his thrusts, but he hissed at me to stop.
“Don’t you dare try to speed this up,” he snarled. “You stay fucking still now.”
I did as I was told, bracing myself for the fucking that would follow. His hips were a beast as they took me. He slammed like the monster of a man I loved. I was grateful when he took his hand from my mouth and slipped it down to my clit. He found it in a heartbeat and circled in a perfect rhythm, knowing my body even better than I did.
“I’m going to put another baby inside you nice and soon,” he said. “But not tonight. Tonight it’s all about your beautiful asshole.”
God, words like that set me on fire. I wanted him to make me pregnant again. I wanted to feel his baby grow in my belly.
We were caught in the moment, not holding back despite hearing people milling around outside the bathroom. I didn’t care who heard the whispers or the grunts, or who knew it was my husband pounding me above the toilet. They’d be insane to challenge us. We were gods on the mountain of Olympus.
“Jesus Christ, you’re such a good slut,” Lucian snarled, and I adored the praise.
“Harder, please,” I whispered, and he gave it harder, slamming me with all of his might. Jesus, I’d be hurting for days.
“I love it when you make me come,” he said, and I glowed again at the praise. He fulfilled so much I’d dreamed of. Being good enough. Being wanted. Being loved and protected and adored.
I knew he was close, but he got me there first. My clit sparked and sent me over the edge. The waves rushed through me and I tipped my head back, closing my eyes. Grunts and whimpers and thrusts and shudders.
“Good girl,” he said, and I felt like one. I was his good girl.
The sensations were still roaring in me when he neared his peak. He was rampant, pounding me like a savage.
“Fuck, yes…” he said, and he was ready. Yes, he was ready.
Until the noise of my cell sounded out from my clutch on the floor.
Surely not. No. It couldn’t be.
He paused, gasping, feeling the fear too.
I couldn’t make it to my cell in time before his sounded out to match.
His cock was still in my ass as he took it from his pocket. I turned my head as far as I could, far enough to see the worry in his eyes.
I was too breathless to make a sound as he pulled himself from me, my dress dropping back down my thighs.
“Ella?”
I couldn’t hear the other side of the call, but I didn’t need to. He pulled up his zipper and gestured to my clutch on the floor and I knew it. We were leaving.
“We’ll be there soon. Call in extra security.” His face was ashen when he put his cell back in his pocket.
“What is it?” I asked him, my heart pounding. I expected a call because Arlo couldn’t sleep. Or because he had a tummy ache. Not something scary. “Lucian, what is it?”
“Someone is in the grounds,” he told me. “Security saw them moving on the cameras. They called for backup, but they haven’t found the guy yet.”
We were out of there in seconds, still flushed and panting but desperate to leave. He took my hand before we left the bathroom.
“Composure,” he said. “We don’t want the world to see our battle. It will only encourage them.”
I nodded, already struggling. I let him lead me through the ball, token little smiles on our way as my heart thumped like crazy. Our little boy… our beautiful little boy. I did everything I could to stop it consuming me, but it was pointless. The fear took over me the moment we were in the back of the limo, tears beginning to fall.
“Drive,” Lucian said. “Fast.”
The limo charged off, and I gripped Lucian’s hand like a vice.
“Do you think they’re there for him?” I whispered. “Do you think they’re coming after Arlo?”
“They’d have to be seriously fucking crazy,” he snarled.
I sank into him, letting the power in him reassure me all that it could.
It was only minutes to cross Bishop’s Landing and back to our home, but hell, it felt like hours.
Chapter Three
Lucian
I let the monster inside eat me up, filling me with rage. Rage was better than fear. Rage puts you back in control.
“Faster,” I snarled at the driver and he obeyed me, just like the rest of the world.
The tires screeched as we reached our driveway. The limo had barely stopped before I charged out of there and scouted around us. No sign of anyone. Not security, not invaders, nothing.
It was only then that I pulled Elaine up and out of there.
Ella was already standing on the doorstep, waiting for us.
“Arlo is in bed,” she said. “I’ve been around the house. A member of the security team is up there with him. I came down to wait for you.”
“Inside,” I said to Elaine. “Go to our baby.”
She didn’t need telling again. She was moving like the fierce, loving mother she was, desperate to reach him. I was too, but I had the protecto
r raging inside me. I wanted to hunt the piece of shit who’d dared to enter our grounds and make him suffer.
Kyle from the security team was breathless as he reached me.
“We’re still searching,” he said. “I’ve called for backup.”
I walked alongside him. “Who is he? Any ideas?”
He shook his head. “He was holding something and looking up at the windows.”
Looking for our son.
“I’ve secured the house,” Kyle said. “Zach is stationed outside the child’s room.”
We were still heading off the driveway when another car pulled up. Scott and Trevor. Two more from the team. My heart eased a little at the reassurance of more security.
We’d take the sonofabitch down at any cost.
I stayed with Kyle, even though he tried to urge me inside. Fuck that. I wanted to be at the front.
Thank holy fuck for the guy that it was Scott and Trevor who found him before I did. I heard the yell from the other side of the house as they collared him. Kyle and I went charging over there at lightning speed. I was still in my tuxedo with my heart in my fucking throat.
I was expecting a brute, but the guy they’d taken hold of looked like a skinny bastard. Hardly the monster from some underground operation. They were dragging him by the elbows between them, his eyes huge and his expression nothing but terror.
Scott held up a camera. “He had this. No gun. No knife.”
“Right,” I said, and tried to calm my racing pulse.
“I’m a journalist!” he said, sounding shaky. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get pictures.”
I had no doubt I had evil written right across my face. “Pictures of who?” I snarled. “My baby boy?”
He shook his head. “No! Not really. Pictures of anything. Pictures of you, or Elaine, or the Morelli home. I needed it. For my goddamn gossip blog. They pay well. I needed the money. I got laid off eighteen months ago. My wife’s expecting. And no one’s hiring a mediocre journalist.”
There was a desperation in him, and it was more than a desperation for his life. It was a strange thing, how I recognized it. Empathized with it in what limited way empathy ever hit me.
The guy was trying to provide for his family.
“Drop him,” I said to Scott and Trevor, and they did as they were told. “Leave us,” I said after, and they looked surprised, but stepped away.
“I’ll stay out front,” Kyle said, but I shot him a glare.
“You’ll get the fuck out of here,” I told him. “And you’ll take Zach with you. You’re fired.”
“What?” he asked, surprised.
“I said, get the fuck out of here, you incompetent pieces of shit.” I gestured to the dropped figure of the guy on the grass. “You let a journalist onto our grounds, close enough to get a photograph of my son?”
“But we were… we did what we could…”
I shoved him by his shoulder. “You didn’t do enough then, did you? You’re lucky it’s Christmas, or I’d fuck you over for risking my boy.”
I was telling the truth, too. He really was lucky it was Christmas. And so was the journalist on the floor.
He didn’t move as Kyle scurried away, just stayed in a huddle, not daring to look me in the eye.
I put my foot on his back and lit up a cigarette. “You’re lucky it’s fucking Christmas, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please. I’d have never done anything to hurt your son.”
I walked away enough to take a proper look at him. He can’t have been more than thirty years old.
“Get up,” I told him. “Don’t be any more pathetic than you need to be.”
He got to his feet slowly, and I got a better look at him in the glow of the manor lights. Yes, he couldn’t be older than thirty.
“How many kids do you have?”
“One. A girl. This will be our second.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jason Wise.”
I offered him a cigarette. “Not quite so wise, it seems.”
He took it with a relieved smile. “Thank you. No, seems not.” He paused, and there was something about him I liked, even though he’d just broken into my premises. That rarely happened for me. I rarely liked anyone. He managed a faint little laugh. “At least I don’t need to ask you what your name is. The whole world knows your name, hence I’m here trying to get pictures of you.”
“The Morelli family Christmas, the insider edition. Is that what you were planning on writing?”
“Something like that,” he said and accepted a light from me. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? Not now you’re probably planning on ruining me anyway.”
“I’d do a lot worse than ruin you if I wanted to.”
“Maybe I’ll be lucky and you’ll shoot me in the head. Merry Christmas, at least.”
Yes. The guy had a streak of audacity in him I liked. A flare of personality and drive I wanted to see in people but rarely did.
“How did you get in here?” I asked him.
He pointed to the edge of the lawn. “Over the wall. I saw a statue I could climb down and hoped I wouldn’t break a leg.”
“You must have scouted it out to do that.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been scouting it out for days, seeing when security were coming and going.”
“Interesting,” I said, because it was. His persistence and observational skills were very interesting.
The guy called Jason Wise took a drag of his cigarette. “Are you going to kill me then?”
I tipped my head. “I’m not sure yet. Still thinking on it.”
I couldn’t hold back a sly smile as he nodded. He was resigned to his fate, even though he was a cheeky journalist shit who’d been desperate for a step up in his career. Seems he’d known what he’d be risking and cared enough about his family enough to chance it.
“I’ve got journalists calling me,” I told him. “An interview with me to talk about what’s next for Morelli Holdings. Along with as much of my personal life as they can get from me.”
“They must be desperate to get here.”
“Yes,” I replied. “Only somehow I think you’d do a better job than them, and would be considerably more desperate for it, since you’ve just risked your life for the opportunity.”
His eyes widened. “Are you being serious? You might want me to do the interview?”
I was being deadly serious.
I rewarded determination and dedication and courage, even when the people attempting it were being utter fools. Perhaps I had gone soft as a married man, a father, but it heartened me to see a man try to provide for his family, even in the face of hardship.
“Three days,” I told him. “Noon. Make sure you’re on time.”
“Holy shit!” he said, not quite believing it. “Wow, thank you. Just, wow.”
“Take your camera,” I gestured, and he was still stumbling as he leaned down for it. “Just make sure you never try to cross me again. I won’t be so lenient next time, I promise you.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Oh my God. Thank you.”
“It’s sir,” I told him. “From now on you’ll call me sir.”
“Thank you, sir,” he repeated, and I watched him walk away, casting glances over his shoulder at me with every single step.
Peace on Earth, goodwill to all men.
Goodwill towards foolish, desperate fathers, it seemed.
I put out my cigarette and stepped up the stone steps and into our manor house. The rooms were bright with a Christmas glow, shining out into the night, warm with the bliss of my family being safe and well.
I was more alive than ever before as I made my way upstairs.
Chapter Four
Elaine
I was sitting on Arlo’s bed with him, heart still flooded with the knowledge that they’d secured the guy and our boy was safe again. Kyle had told me before he left with Zach, both of them fired, just as I knew they would be. They were lucky Lucian had
n’t killed them instead.
I would have climbed into bed, but he was still pressed tight to my chest, crying after waking up from a nightmare. I guessed atmospheres around us can be strong enough to infiltrate dreams.
“It’s okay, little guy,” I whispered, rocking him in my arms. “Mommy’s here now. Mommy’s here.”
“So’s Daddy,” Lucian’s voice sounded from the doorway, and my heart soared, seeing my love standing there, tall and strong.
He joined me on the bed and there was a fire about him that ate me up. He took our baby from my arms and held him tight, rocking him along with me, the three of us together.
He was my husband and he was in place as he should be, soothing us both with his might.
“I saw monsters, Daddy. Not Santa!” Arlo cried, rubbing his face into Lucian’s shirt.
“Santa’s coming, son,” Lucian said. “Don’t you worry. You never need to worry, baby boy, because no monsters will ever be able to hurt you. You have your daddy to make sure of that. Daddy can chase any monster away.”
Lucian stole my heart all over again. He tipped my baby’s face up to his with a look of love and pride in his eyes. Daddy told the truth. He chased every monster away.
* * *
Thank you for reading AWAY IN A MANGER! If you haven’t read Lucian and Elaine’s story, find out now in the breathtaking dark romance HEARTLESS.
In a single moment, she becomes my obsession…
Elaine Constantine will be mine. And her destruction is only my beginning.
I’ve known all my life that the Constantines deserved to be wiped from the face of the earth, only a smoking crater left where their mansion once stood. That’s my plan until I see her, the woman in gold with the sinful curves and the blonde curls. My will to dominate her runs as deep as the hate I have for her last name.
No matter how beautifully she bends beneath my hands, I’ll leave her shattered, a broken toy for her cruel family.
ONE CLICK HEARTLESS NOW >
All I Want for Christmas Is You
M. Robinson
Jax
