Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  When she stops crying, I dry her tears with my palms. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

  She blinks. She’s confused. Hell, so am I. Spanking her makes me hot. Holding her makes me forget why I spanked her in the first place. With her arms wrapped around my neck and her ass cushioning my dick, I can’t think straight. All I know, is that I can’t lose her. “From now on, I want Quincy to train you with Bruno.” She lifts her head to look at me.

  “You’re not allowed outside if he’s loose, unless you give me a demonstration that proves you can handle him.”

  “He won’t attack me.”

  “He’s bitten a trespasser before. Fuck, Valentina.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Not even Magda risks it out unless he’s closed in the back.”

  “Why do you keep a dog if he’s so dangerous, even to your own family?”

  “Protection. People who want to break in badly enough will eventually find a way.”

  “Bad people will also poison a dog.”

  “He’s trained not to take food from anyone but Quincy.” I study her tear-streaked eyes.

  “What did you do to him? How did you get him to heel?”

  “I removed a thorn from his paw.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s not hard at all. You just have to show him who has the authority. You can’t be frightened. Animals sense fear.”

  It sounds a lot like me. No surprises there. I’m an animal, at best. I brush my lips over her hair, inhaling her sweet, raspberry scent. “Was my lesson clear enough for you, or will you need a repeat?”

  “No,” she says quickly. “I get it.”

  “Do you fear me?”

  “Why? Do you sense it?”

  “Yes,” I say gravely. I do, and I’ll encourage it, even if it’s only to use her fear like a leash, holding her close to me.

  I lift her to her feet. “I’ll tell Quincy to set aside some time later today.” She brushes her hair behind her ear.

  “Do you need a moment?’

  She gives a grateful nod. “Please.”

  I give her the privacy she needs to gather herself. After arranging for dog training with

  Quincy, I distract myself by catching up on business, and then I access the financial records Anton emailed me. Valentina earned a salary from Rocky Street Veterinary Clinic. When she said she was an assistant, I assumed it was the secretarial type. That explains the white tunic the first night in Napoli’s. Debit orders went off from her account for water and electricity, which she stopped yesterday. Her credit card statements show the usual expenses for food and essentials. Other than that, Valentina isn’t a spender. Not that she had the means. There are no luxuries, nothing of the things women like, not even a tube of lipstick. Every month, she withdraws a substantial amount of cash, and it’s always the same amount, to the last cent.

  I call my private banker and arrange for twenty grand to be transferred to her account. Next, I get the agent on the line and offer him a five grand commission to transfer the Berea property to my name. He’s happy to oblige. Firstly, he knows who I am. Secondly, he knows he’ll otherwise not get a cent for the flat. I arrange for the necessary transfer of ownership documents to be delivered. For Valentina’s sake, the sale must look authentic.

  With the finances in place, I call the club manager at Napoli’s. I’d like to have a word with Valentina’s ex-neighbor about the burglary, and Jerry hasn’t been home since we took her and her brother. The manager assures me Jerry hasn’t been back, so I put word out that I’m looking for him. Whoever wrecked Valentina’s flat will pay. I leave the most unpleasant task for last, dialing Lambert Roos. The phone rings for a long time without going onto voicemail. Looks like I’ll have to pay Lambert a visit.

  It’s only when I grow more settled again and reflect on this afternoon’s episode that I recall the lunch Valentina never finished. On strict order from Magda, Marie won’t serve the food she prepares to the staff. Is Valentina eating our leftovers? Goddamn. An uncomfortable emotion lances into my heart. The pinch in my chest won’t let up. I pull our grocery order records. Valentina is living on Granny Smith apples and cheap Chinese noodles. I feel too many things to distinguish one from the other. There are pity, concern, and anger at myself for not discovering the truth earlier. She’s starving right under my nose.

  This won’t do. I need her healthy. I adjust the order and send Marie a note. From now on, Valentina will eat what I decide.

  * * *

  Valentina

  There’s a box with my name on it in the kitchen when I come in from washing the patio.

  “That’s for you,” Marie says, drying her hands on a dishcloth.

  “For me?” I lift the flaps to peer inside.

  There are meat, cheese, eggs, veggies, fruit, bottled water, and juice. In a smaller box, I find a variety of delicatessens, including olives, nuts, cold pressed cooking oil, and dark chocolate. There must be a mistake.

  “I didn’t order these.”

  “It’s from Mr. Louw.” She scrutinizes me. “Whatever you did, it made him very happy.”

  I shouldn’t feel guilty, but a flush warms my cheeks. I’m ashamed of my poverty. Always have been. Gabriel’s gesture only reminds me of the gap between us. The kindness makes me irrationally sad and inexplicably angry. I’m nobody’s charity case. I’ll return everything, but for now I unpack it in the fridge to prevent the expensive food from spoiling.

  When Gabriel comes to my room, I fight the orgasm he forces on me, doing everything in my power not to come, but it’s a losing battle. Eventually, the pleasure takes over. My body gives in and delivers what he wants. His power over the physical part of me is complete. He stripped me of my defenses. I can’t allow him to strip me of my pride.

  Afterward, he pulls me into his arms. His voice is gentle, but stern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The harder you fight me, the harder I’ll push.”

  I lower my eyes. “The food… I don’t appreciate the gesture.”

  “Ah.” He says it as if he suddenly understands everything that’s going on in my head.

  “Look at me.”

  I oblige. Grudgingly.

  “What are you to me, Valentina?” “An investment,” I bit out.

  “What do I do with my investments?”

  “Take care of them.”

  He brushes a thumb over my cheek. “I like to take care of you. Is that so bad?”

  Yes, dammit. I want to be more than someone’s investment. “You can’t force food on me.”

  “Yes, I can. You can eat what I tell you or be force-fed. It’s your choice, but it’ll please me if you accept it without arguing.”

  It shocks me how badly I want to please him. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Whatever you need,” he continues, “I want you to tell me.”

  I can only stare at him, not sure what is changing between us, but the balance is shifting.

  He runs a forefinger over my lips. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me now?” The air of anticipation that hangs around him makes him seem vulnerable, as if he has more to lose than me in this strange game playing off between us.

  “No,” I croak, not sure what he wants from me.

  As I expected, my answer disappoints him, but he doesn’t pursue the matter. He simply kisses me until my desire spikes again before he gets to his feet and unbuckles his belt.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  What did I expect from Valentina? To open up to me? Why is it important to me that she tells me about her studies out of her own, free will? I don’t have an answer. I only know I want to hear it from her. Until she admits it, I won’t tell her I discovered the truth.

  Besides keeping an eye on Valentina’s eating habits, worry about Carly’s date dominates the rest of my week. On Friday night, I have men placed around the movie theatre. Discreetly, of course. Still, I don’t relax until my daughter is home safe and sound, bubblier
than ever. If Sebastian put as much as a finger on her, my men would’ve acted, and I’m glad it didn’t come to that. Carly comes to my study to say goodnight. She surprises me with an uncharacteristic kiss on my cheek and a hug.

  When the house is quiet, I make my way to Valentina’s room. It’s a routine I look forward to, a fix to which I’m already addicted. My steps fall unevenly on the kitchen floor. My limp is heavier, tonight. There’s rain in the air. The humidity makes my joints ache.

  My breath catches when I open her door. She’s spread out on the bed, naked. Her golden skin is flawless, except for the tiny beauty spot under her left breast. The small mark of imperfection only adds to her allure. In her sleep, she looks more vulnerable and innocent than when she watches me with her big, frightened eyes. Her folds already glisten with the arousal I conditioned her to have. Walking to the bed, I stare down at her. Usually, my presence is enough to wake her, but she’s been tired, lately. Too tired. It doesn’t help that I steal an hour of her sleep time, but I have very little control where Valentina is concerned. I take another moment to study her body. I like looking at her when she’s sleeping. The voyeuristic act is invasive, but it turns me on and feeds a dark part of me.

  After a few seconds, she starts to stir. Her eyelids flutter, and her lashes lift. I read her expression as she rises from her sleep. First, there’s recognition and then desire. There’s no more fear or resistance. She’s ready for the next step.

  Keeping my clothes on, I stretch out next to her on the bed, lifting myself up on my elbow. Immediately, she spreads her legs. The submissive act makes me dizzy with desire. If I’d remained standing, she would’ve sat up on her knees for me, legs wide, just like I taught her. I reward her with a soft kiss, my tongue spearing through her lips and stroking hers while I’m playing with her breasts. I can get drunk on her moans. I want to drown in her arousal, but I have other plans for her pussy tonight.

  I run my hand down her stomach to her sex. I stroke the pad of my middle finger up and down her slit, working moisture to her clit. When she’s drenched in her own wetness, I clamp my mouth over hers and drive the first digit of my finger into her soaked channel. She’s soft like velvet and so fucking wet. So hot. Her eyes fly open, and she gasps into my mouth. I eat the sound like an addict, greedily swallowing the whimpers that follow when I twist my finger a few times. When Engelbrecht examined her he told me there’s no membrane––not an uncommon occurrence with virgins––so there shouldn’t be any bleeding, but goddammit she’s tight. Sucking her lips into my mouth, I drive home, burying my finger all the way inside, and then hold still while I stretch her. This time, she moans loudly into my mouth. I don’t mind if she screams. Her room is too far for anyone in the house to hear, but I want to eat her sounds of pleasure like I eat her orgasms. I want to swallow her essence in every sensory way possible to carry it inside of me. I want her to be a part of me in the most literal sense.

  She’s panting in my mouth, sucking the oxygen from my lungs, and fueling me with rapid breaths of ecstasy. I take as much as I give, drinking her air like a vampire. It becomes a battle of breaths, a sucking and exhaling, a give and take. Putting my free hand on her forehead, I smooth back her hair in a soothing caress, preparing her for what’s to come. As she starts breathing more easily from my mouth, accepting only the air I choose to give her, I pull out my finger and push back in. Her internal walls quiver around me. I drive in and out, finding a rhythm that matches the rise and fall of her chest. My thumb finds her clit, pressing down while I curl the finger inside to caress the soft spot under her pubic bone. Her hips lift toward me, chasing my touch, so I give her more, a bit harder, a bit faster.

  Her lower body trembles. I want to make her fly so fucking high. The thought has my balls climb up into my body. When the first flutter of a spasm strokes my finger, I glide my palm from her forehead over her eyes to pinch her nose shut with my thumb and forefinger. Before she has time to register my intention, I start fucking her with my finger in all earnest, slapping her pussy hard enough with the heel of my palm to turn her clit pink.

  I suck the life from her body with my mouth while I give back with my hand. Her legs scissor. Her ass lifts off the bed, and her toes curl inward. Then she begins to fight. She tries to twist her head in my hold while shoving at my shoulders. Realizing she’s no match for my strength, she scratches. My skin burns deliciously hot where her nails leave long gashes in my neck. She bites my tongue. The metallic taste of blood coats my lips and drives me wild. One more second and her body jerks as if she’s taken a thousand volts. I can own her life for several more seconds before she’ll pass out, but I don’t want it to go that far. I only want her to have the pleasure. Two more seconds and she falls limp, taking the relentless fucking of my finger in and on her pussy without fighting it any longer. She does nothing but ride the pleasure I force out of her, allowing me to control her breathing.

  Total surrender.

  I ease my hold on her nose and mouth, keeping our lips a hairbreadth apart. She sucks in the cool night air with a hoarse gasp, her neck arching from the intensity of the action.

  Shockwaves ripple through her abdomen, dissipating in her pussy. I keep her pussy in the vice of my middle finger, which is still inside her, and my thumb, which is pressing on her clit, until the tremors pass. Her vagina feels plump and ripe from my workout. I kiss her lips one last time, tracing my tongue over a spot where she bit herself during the struggling, and move down her body until my tongue finds her folds.

  She shivers when I push inside to taste her climax. It’s uniquely Valentina. She tastes raw and well loved, and I have a shocking desire to taste her with my cum in her body. I’m beyond myself with need. She protests with a meek whimper when I shove her thighs wide and push my hands under her ass, digging my fingers into the fleshy globes to pull her open. I stare at her cunt. She’s more than a treat. She’s the food I need to survive. I bury my head between her legs and devour her flesh. I eat her like I need her, with no excuses and no mercy.

  “Gabriel, no more. Please.”

  I ignore her begging. The business about finding her a man, a pretty man, to take her virginity has me on edge. I’ll give her a handsome man only this once, even if it feels like carving my heart out with a blunt knife, but fuck it, I own her. I need to show us both after all that will happen, she’ll still be mine. Her pleasure is mine. Getting her off is my addiction.

  I make her come once more with my mouth and twice with my hand. When I’m done, she’s boneless. I’m not even sure she’s conscious. I settle down beside her and drag her against my body. Folding my arms around her, I hold her until I drift into a haunted sleep.

  * * *

  Valentina

  I wake up with a weight on my stomach and chest. Gabriel is draped around me, fully dressed, except for his shoes. It’s the first time he stayed after making me come. A full-body flush heats my skin when I remember what he did last night. My breasts grow heavy, and my clit starts to throb. It was carnal. Deadly. Somewhere between the last orgasm and Gabriel petting me, I passed out, too tired to lift an eye. Careful not to move, I revel in the comfort of being in his warm arms. The sun is barely up, tainting the curtains with a golden glow. I don’t have to face the reality yet, that he’s the man who holds the power over my life. Charlie’s life. I bite my lip as I acknowledged the painful truth. I liked what he did. Very much. Once I got over my initial panic, I gave over to him, trusting him to keep me safe, and he did.

  Gabriel moves, his hold on me tightening. His breathing doesn’t change, but he drags his chin over my jaw and kisses my ear. His beard grates my skin, making me aware of his masculinity in a rough, pleasant way.

  “Morning, beautiful.” He nibbles on my earlobe and sweeps his palm over the goose bumps that break out on my skin. “Coffee?”

  Gabriel is offering me coffee? I turn to face him, trying to read his expression, but his face is blank.

  Without waiting for a reply, he swings his legs of
f the bed and gets to his feet. I don’t miss the flinch he tries to hide as he puts his weight on his damaged leg. His white shirt is crumpled, and his black hair sleep-messy. He looks gorgeous. I want to tell him how grateful I am that he didn’t leave me last night, how much I needed his arms around me after the intense way he treated my body, but he limps to the door and disappears before I can formulate the words.

  I have another ten minutes before my alarm goes. Cuddling under the covers, I feel replete and strangely happy. A short while later, Gabriel returns with a cup of steaming coffee, the welcome aroma filling my room.

  I prop myself up on the pillows to take it from him. “Thank you.” I’m not sure what else to say. It’s such an unexpected act.

  “Milk, two sugars,” he says.

  He knows how I drink my coffee? I blink at him, not sure if I should ask, but he doesn’t give me a chance. He wipes a thumb over my bottom lip, over the mark where I bit myself, and drags his heated eyes up to mine. From the way his cock hardens, he’s thinking about last night.

  He checks his watch and angles his head away from me. “I’ll be out tonight. Don’t leave tomorrow without saying goodbye.”