Covetous

by Natalie Bennett

  "Seth Borgia wants to marry his daughter?" I questioned slowly, ignoring the fact that Caleb was bleeding all over the fucking place.

  "Not his daughter. Please, help me," Caleb begged.

  "What aren't you telling me?"

  This was the last chance I was giving him to spill his guts before I did , in a much different fashion. I shouldn't technically have been here doing this. There were plenty of men, and some women, far beneath me that were meant to handle shit like this. But I liked doing my own dirty work. It helped me sleep at night.

  "This isn't going to bring back your precious Michelle." Caleb grinned up at me, his eyes glassy. He knew he wasn't getting out of here alive, and that was the perfect thing to say to make his demise that much quicker. I ignored Enrique telling me to wait and dug my shears into Caleb's throat.

  I cut the engine and looked up at my house. I'd showered before coming home because I didn't want Willow to see me covered in blood.

  The smell of hot pizza filled the cabin of my car. She liked pizza; I'd seen her eat it a million times. And milkshakes. She loved some caramel peanut butter bullshit. I went out of my way to get her one. I could give her one night of normalcy, just one. One last time.

  Enrique burned Caleb's body and promised to email me everything I needed by in the morning. Jax checked in, saying Abigail was just as much of a mess as when he'd first taken her. That translated into letting me know he was enjoying himself.

  Sighing, I grabbed the pizza and shake and climbed out of the car. If circumstances were different, I'd be walking into the door to a willing woman, not a kidnapped one.

  Keying in the door code, I walked into the house. Willow's head popped up from over the couch. Her hair was down, and she wasn't wearing anything but a sleep shirt that said No Pants Are The Best Pants.

  I don't think I'd ever seen anyone as sexy as she was without any effort. The movie Psycho was playing on the flat screen, and I couldn't help but raise my brows at her.

  Willow glanced at the television and then back at me, with a sly smile on her face. It melted away and was replaced by a look of confusion as she took in the pizza box and shake in my hands.

  "You got pizza?" She cocked her head and looked at me.

  " I know how much you like it. I also know you hate cake." I turned and kicked the door shut with my shoe. When I looked back at her, she was staring at me as if I'd grown two heads.

  "You're a really shitty kidnapper. All you give me is cock and food."

  I grinned, allowing myself to laugh at her serious expression.

  "We need to eat before it gets cold." I walked away from Willow, purposely ignoring the expression on her face.

  Sometimes, I wondered what she thought of me. She'd never asked me why I took my father's heart, or what I did when I left the house. I felt guilty about a lot of things in my life, but killing my dad wasn't one of them. The irony wasn't lost on me, that the man whose heart I kept in the freezer would soon be me if I stayed on the track I was on.

  Which was why a good man would have let Willow go; he wouldn't have taken her in the first place. I couldn't be that man. I wanted her, even if it meant trapping her in Hell right beside me. It was an executive decision. At thirty-three, I'd made plenty of those.

  I knew she wasn't Michelle; no one was. My fiancée had been the light of my life. Losing her catapulted me even further down a path of darkness. I didn’t want another copy of her.

  Willow was perfect in every way imaginable. She had the heart of a lion and the beauty of a goddess. Smart and full of life, even her smart-ass mouth had grown on me. Though, I preferred when it was wrapped around my cock.

  I sat the pizza and plates on the glass dining table. Willow followed behind me, suddenly quiet as a mouse. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. It would be so easy to force some of the answers to what I wanted to know out of her.

  She claimed I didn't act like a kidnapper. Well, she didn't exactly act like a kidnapped girl was supposed to. Fuck, she didn't act like anyone her age did.

  "Pierce?" Her small hand touched my back, concern evident in her voice. I could smell the lavender body wash she used on her skin, the peach shampoo in her hair. When her hand went from my back to my arm, something in me snapped.

  Shoving the plates to the floor, I spun and grabbed hold of her arms. She gasped, clearly surprised. I sat her on the edge of the table and caged her in on either side. She stared up at me, her chocolate eyes wide, her perfect pink lips slightly parted.

  She was supposed to have a bullet in her head. I was going to snap her neck. I wanted to cut her heart out and send it to her father with a pretty little bow around it. She wasn't supposed to get under my skin like infectious cancer and bleed into my thoughts.

  "Why aren't you fighting me anymore? Why are you so calm?" I kept my voice level, but even I could hear the harshness in it.

  Half of me wanted to spill my fucking guts, tell her everything I'd ever done and everything I was about to put her through. Killing my father was just the tip of the iceberg. If she truly knew the man I was, she wouldn't look at me the way she did, and for once, I was a coward, because I refused to tell her. One day I would, but not today.

  "I don't want to fight you. Is that what you want? Me to fight you?" She looked at me questioningly. If I said yes, I knew she would.

  "Why?" Of all the things running through my head, that's the only question I could ask her.

  "I like you. I've always liked you. And I know you're a bit different, but so am I. You don't think I'm weird, and that makes me happy." Her honest words tumbled from her mouth and caught me off guard.

  "I choked you to get you here, Willow.."

  Pausing to get myself under control, I ran a hand down my face. She cast her gaze downward, suddenly unable to look me in the eyes.

  "I liked it," she mumbled into her chest. My dick turned to a slab of granite.

  "I want to hurt you, Willow. Make you cry, and hear you beg."

  "So, do it." She lifted her head and challenged me.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My emotions were spiraling out of control.

  I had nothing to bargain with except myself. I had myself. As soon as the words "Do it," left my lips, Pierce's mouth hit mine, hard. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands went to my thighs.

  My mouth opened for him, happily letting his tongue inside to meet my own. All too soon, he broke away from me.

  He pulled me by the legs so my ass was right on the edge of his table.

  "I should have done this the first night you were here," he murmured, kissing up my bare leg to my right thigh. Slowly, he began to trace over my scars with the tip of his tongue, moving closer and closer to my pussy.

  I groaned, taking hold of his shoulders, spreading my legs even more for him.

  His lips ghosted over my thong, his warm breath on my center, and then his mouth was moving up my other leg, doing a repeat. His tongue like a paintbrush, my scars the canvas.

  My body was my own worst enemy. It came alive for him. He followed the ugly rugged pattern imprinted on my skin with slow, smooth strokes. This time, he moved his lips to the outside of my thigh.

  Taking hold of my thong with his teeth, he began to remove it, dragging it down my legs without lifting a finger.

  "Take your shirt off," he instructed me, discarding his own clothes. I quickly shoved the shirt over my head and sat watching him, naked. I drank in the masterpiece that emerged from beneath his suit. He had to have a vigorous workout routine; his body was mouth watering. The muscles, his abs, even the fucking crimson dragon tattoo on his back.

  "No." I stopped him from going back to his knees once he was all the way nude. Fuck foreplay, I wanted him inside of me. I tried to pull him toward me, but he just pushed my hands away.

  "Not yet, Rebel. I wanna play." He moved down and put his mouth where it always seemed to be, pushing two fingers into me at the same time. He took his time, driving me insane with need.

&
nbsp; "Pierce...please," I begged, pulling on his hair.

  "Please, what?" He rolled my clit with his tongue, eliciting another soft moan from my mouth.

  "Get up and fuck me.”

  Pierce chuckled, his warm breath blowing onto my pussy. He rose up like the Sex God he was and positioned me how he wanted, legs were bent, my feet balanced on the edge of the glass table. It reminded me of origami. He ran the head of his cock up and down my lips, smearing his precum onto my labia.

  "Mmm, don't make me beg." I held his arms and pleaded.

  "You already are." he smirked at me, pushing inside me in with one solid thrust. He gave me no time to adjust; he never did. I loved that he didn’t fuck me slow and sweet.

  His thrusts were hard, each one pushing him deeper and deeper into my pussy.

  My position allowed him to go in as far as he wanted. It was the perfect amount of pain and pleasure.

  "God!" I dug my nails into him as hard as I could.

  Pierce," he corrected me arrogantly.

  "Don't you dare come," he growled, feeling my pussy tighten around him.

  "I can't hold it."

  "You don't have a choice." He slowed, beginning to thrust in and out of me agonizingly slow.

  "Fucking asshole," I breathed out, glaring at him.

  "We're just getting started, Rebel." he pulled all the way out and flipped me around, pushing into me on my next breath. My breasts smashed into the cold glass, and the end of the table bit into my stomach.

  He grabbed hold of my hands and pinned them above my head.

  It was heavenly torture. He fucked me to the brink of orgasm, and then pulled back. Over and over again.

  "Pierce," I nearly sobbed, feeling my control slip.

  His thrusts increased. How it was even possible for him to fuck me harder than he already was blew my mind.

  "Come, Rebel." He pushed into me one last time, finishing with me. My loud scream drowned out his groan. He ran his hands down my sweaty back, over my sides, and rested them on my ass.

  After a minute, he peeled me away from his table, lifting me into his arms. With my head cradled on his shoulder, he carried me to his room, through his ridiculously large closet, and into his bathroom.

  We showered in comfortable silence. Pierce massaged my scalp and every inch of my body. Afterward, we ended up on his bed with the warmed up pizza between us.

  "You don't talk dirty," I stated, biting into my second slice. Pierce cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a paper towel, ever put together. I'd been using my robe.

  "Do I really need to announce how tight and wet your pussy is?" he inquired.

  Seeing the puzzled look on his face, I began to giggle.

  "Or would you rather I ask how much you like my cock as I'm fucking you? Though, I think we both know you love it," he shrugged and bit into his own slice. I looked him over, taking in his naked torso and gray sweatpants, hiding a grin when I saw his large print.

  "So, why am I here?" I couldn't help but ask. Nothing had changed since the first night I got there. He was still the same demanding, sexy, asshole Pierce.

  "Do you really want to talk about this?" He sighed, shifting on the bed.

  "Will you tell me the truth?"

  "Only what I think you should know, " he openly admitted. I nodded, waiting for him to do just that.

  "I was going to kill you, but everything changed." He looked at me, his face set back in its usual impassive mask.

  "What changed?" I swallowed my last bite of pizza, which now felt like a heavy rock.

  "Everything when it came to you, Rebel. You're exactly what I wanted, at exactly the wrong time. But I couldn't wait." He looked at me, his honest answer momentarily leaving me speechless.

  "B...but, what are you going to do with me? You said you wanted to break me." Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around my middle and looked at him.

  "I am breaking you. It just isn't apparent to you how yet." He shut the pizza box and moved it to the floor.

  "You can't keep me like this forever, Pierce." I looked down, wondering if he was right. Did I really want to have this conversation? I knew we needed to; I couldn't keep living in a dream world. A world where we were an ordinary couple and everything was fine.

  He reached out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I can keep you forever, Rebel, and I intend to."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Can't keep her forever? Who was going to stop me? I could tell by the look on her face she wouldn't ever just go along with that. That was alright with me - I liked the fight in her.

  "My turn." Readjusting myself on the bed, I opened my arms and after a slight hesitation, Willow crawled into them.

  "Tell me about your scars." She stiffened, looking up at me in alarm.

  "The dragon tattoo on my back? It covers mine."

  Hey eyes widened as what I confessed sunk in. Fighting the urge to force her answer from her, I started to run my hands up and down her back, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

  She sighed, took a breath, and laid her head on my chest. Every word that spilled from her mouth caused my gut to twist.

  "My stepdad used to come into my room at night. It started on my tenth birthday. At first, it was just touching. Then, it was kissing. He used to make me...suck," she choked up.

  I kept quiet, pulling her a little closer, holding her a little tighter, pretending to be a 'good guy.'

  "On my eleventh birthday, he started using his pocket knife to carve his...intitals. Told me if I screamed or told anybody, he'd hurt my mom." She went silent.

  I glanced down and saw she was staring at the wall, a dark look on her face."The ironic thing is that my mom never gave a shit about me, and I wanted to protect her anyways." She struggled to hold back her tears.

  "You don't have to say anything else." I didn't need to hear, knowing the details were far worse than what she was divulging. Already knowing Richard Miller used to stick his dick just far enough into her ass to make it hurt, how he'd jack off and make her swallow.

  She was just a little girl that no one stood up for, that no one cared about. I wanted to take her pain away, but then, because of who she was I wanted to choke her with it. I think It was time to end this little masquerade.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The sound of running water let me know Pierce was home for a change. My body was sore, but in a good way. I don't think we separated at all the night before. By the time my head finally hit a pillow, I was spent.

  I looked over at the digital clock as I rolled out of bed. The last time I'd slept till noon was after a night of binge-watching Charmed. After getting myself together in the bathroom, I left the room.

  When I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I froze. There were eight vases of golden lilies sat around the house.

  "Do you like them?" Pierce's voice came from behind me. It's just flowers, I told myself, seconds away from losing my shit. Glancing back at him, he cocked his head and studied me.

  "Well?"

  "They're beautiful," I lied through my teeth. The flowers were lovely, but I hated them. Someone had left a single bloody lily on my sister's chest.

  "Why lilies?"

  "Why?" He circled around me, making his way towards the table we'd spent a good chunk of time on.

  "You got lilies. Most people get roses." Pierce stopped walking and looked back at me, a cold smile on his face. I furrowed my brows, wondering what I missed.

  What happened between us from the time we went to sleep until now.

  "Roses mean love, and I don't love you, Rebel. I just own you," he shrugged and continued walking. I think it was then my heart shattered in my chest and hit the ground. The worst part was that I didn't know I loved him until it did. Struggling to understand what was going on, I stared at his back.

  He was dressed as immaculately as ever in a crisp black suit. His words were delivered coldly, without emotion. It was a harsh reminder of who I was dealing with.

&nb
sp; "You can't own a human being, Pierce."

  "Come sit down, Willow. We need to talk." Willow. Not Rebel. Feeling much like a scolded child about to be dealt a punishment, I made my way to the table, taking a seat at the farthest end, away from him.

  "Have you ever killed anyone, Willow?" He tapped his fingers on the back of a chair, watching me carefully.

  "What? No–"

  "Have you ever wanted to?"

  "What kind of question is that? No." I didn't know what he was playing at, but I'd never killed anyone before. I wasn't sure I could. Unless it was Richard. I'd drag his ass straight to hell.

  "What about the time you didn't put enough heroin in the needle?" He glowered at me. His blue eyes were void of color, so dark they looked empty. The temperature in the room dropped to freezing. How did he know about that? My stomach twisted, and my heart rate shot up.

  "I didn't mean to…I changed my mind. I would never hurt–"

  "Hurt her? Well, you did. She cried about it for a week." He cut me off, his voice hard as ice.

  I shook my head back and forth still trying to figure out how did he would know any of this. Unless…

  No. No. No.

  "You're...Nick?" My voice cracked. I was too overwhelmed to try and stop it. Too many emotions were attacking me at once.

  "Pierce Nikolai Serban, or as Michelle liked to call me, Nick. Sometimes Nicky." His smile was cruel, but his words were laced with venom. I felt the poisonous effects of them leaking into my soul, slowly siphoning away every defense I had left.

  Nothing could have prepared me for this. Not once did I think Pierce was Nick. God, I hadn't even thought of Nick in years. Michelle. Cassie had preferred being called by her middle name too. I hated it. That was our mother’s name.

  "It was safer for us to use my middle name until we were married," Pierce continued, ignoring my obvious distress.

  My clothes were suddenly too tight, the walls were closing in on me, and I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. Ignoring Pierce's yell for me to stop, I shot out of my chair and ran through his house.