She nodded her head. “And… and if I wear your gift, you won't hurt my mom?” she asked, anxiety lacing her voice.
Fuck. He had played this hand a little too well. He’d wanted to make her more biddable, he hadn’t wanted her to worry that he was about to murder her mother at any moment. But it was too late for him to reassure her. He pulled her to her feet, careful to watch for signs that she might attack him again. She merely stood stiffly, watching him warily.
He strode toward the window and dropped the black, velvet curtain back into place. She didn’t need the distraction. The next little while would be about them. “If you do as I say, then Mrs. Bancroft will be fine.”
Panic flashed across her beautiful face and her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Fuck, Soloman. I’m just not so good at listening. What if… what if I accidentally piss you off? Will you… oh god?” Tears filled her eyes and she stared at him helplessly.
He chuckled darkly. “I’m well aware of your ability to piss me off. How about you do your best to listen to me and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”
She nodded, her eyes still wide and wet with worry. She chewed on her full lower lip. He had the urge to shove his thumb into her mouth while ravaging her pussy with his cock. His body responded quickly to the thought and he nearly groaned out loud. Running a hand down his face, he said, “Why don't we start with the choker? Bring it here.”
She picked up the expensive piece of jewelry and approached him, trepidation in each step she took. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him now that she’d seen exactly what kind of ruthless machinations he was capable of. Not that she wanted anything to do with him before, but there had been some flirting. Now he saw only fear in her beautiful velvet eyes. He was going to have to distract her. Refocus her terror and train her body so it responded to him, despite what her brain screamed at her.
He took the choker from her cold fingers and, placing a hand on her delicate shoulder, turned her so she faced away from him. Reaching around her, he slipped the necklace around the base of her long, beautiful neck and latched it at the back. He turned her around and looked down at it, possession blazing sharply in his dark, almost black eyes.
He took her hand and pulled her to the mirror next to his bar. He stood her in front of it and forced her to look at herself wearing his property. It was a black and silver entwined choker with a black diamond encrusted ’S’ in the front surrounded by silver vines. It was very beautiful and very pagan. The flowing lines gave it a fluidity, but the letter with his initial made it feel barbaric.
Bending, he whispered in her ear, “I believe I told you to wear something appropriate with it.”
“What?” she said, her confused gaze clashing with his in the mirror.
His hands went to the waistband of her sweatpants and bit into the flesh of her hips. “Since you chose not to dress appropriately for the occasion, then you can wear the next best thing with your new necklace.”
Riley’s breath caught in her throat and she stared at him. His fingers slid further into her waistband, caressing her hipbones and pressing further into her flesh as if testing the resiliency. His thumbs pressed into the generous flesh of her ass as his hands spanned her from front to back.
“Wh-what do you want me to wear?” she asked, finally managing to find her voice.
“Nothing.”
CHAPTER TEN
He was sitting behind his desk, watching her as she slowly stripped her T-shirt over her head. She had already kicked off her Sketchers. Riley closed her eyes, trying to block him out. How had life gotten so fucked up and out of control that she was doing a striptease for the most dangerous mafia boss in town, right in the office of his underground casino? She could feel the heat of his eyes on her and knew he was tracing every inch of creamy flesh she revealed. Her mind frantically scrambled over the problem of which piece of clothing to take off next.
“The sweats,” his deep voice instructed, reading her mind.
Her eyes flew open to meet his. When she saw amusement written on his face in the curl of his lip and glint in his eye, she wanted nothing more than to stalk over to his bar and start hurling expensive liquor bottles at his arrogant head. She would have done it too, if her mom weren't right downstairs within easy reach of a dozen knee-breakers.
Narrowing her eyes, Riley reached for the waistband of her oldest pair of grey sweatpants and shoved them as un-sexily as she could down her legs. She kicked them off and then turned to glare at him, her temper rising with each lost item of clothing. Next, she reached behind her and unsnapped the hooks on her C-cup bra. She shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor, while simultaneously bringing her arms up to cover her breasts from his view.
Soloman stood, his hot, demanding gaze sweeping over her. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it, tossing it over the back of his chair. Then he removed his cufflinks and dropped them onto his desk. A quick glimpse showed her that they were silver with a black diamond S on them. Her heart jumped as she realized he had marked her with the same jewelry he wore. Her wary gaze remained glued to his every movement. He rolled up the sleeves of his fine white dress shirt, pulled his tie off and unbuttoned the top few buttons. The tattoo on the back of his hand showed stark on his skin. Others flowed up arms to the edge of his shirt and then continued on his chest and neck.
The scar on his lip looked more sinister than ever when he turned to look at her. His cold dark eyes, touching her exposed skin, made her feel both hot and cold. She shivered under the onslaught of emotion. “Drop your hands, Riley. I want to see what’s mine.”
A whimper broke free from her lips. She raised her chin and glared at him, but thrust her hands down to her side, exposing her breasts. She forced herself to watch him as his gaze roved over her pale, full, pink-tipped breasts. She wondered what he thought of the quote tattoo scrawled along her ribcage just under her left breast: “Life ain’t always beautiful, but it’s a beautiful ride.” It was something her dad used to say. She’d gotten the tattoo done shortly after his death.
Soloman stepped forward, reaching for her. Riley stumbled back, but he took hold of her and forced her to stand still. He brought his other hand up and brushed it across the tip of her breast, causing the nipple to stand even stiffer. She gasped and tried to jerk back, but his fingers tightened in warning. She bit her lip and looked up at him, begging him with her eyes. She wasn’t prepared for this, she couldn’t do this!
She saw no mercy in his eyes. She saw nothing but raw lust and blazing possession. He had no intention of letting her leave until he was done exacting whatever he had brought her there for.
“Now the rest,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers cascading down her spine.
She tilted her head back and whispered with every ounce of loathing she felt for him, “I hate you.”
He nodded his head and replied, “It doesn't matter. Take it off.” He removed his hand so she could take her underwear off, but he didn’t step away from her, forcing her to bend over with him in her space.
Glaring up at him, she hooked her fingers into the edge of her soft, blue cotton panties and dragged them down her legs. Her face came within inches of his incredibly hard cock as she bent over. She felt his body stiffen as her breath fanned across his crotch. She could almost feel the fight within him to not grab her by the neck and shove her to the floor. She wondered why he fought his baser instincts. She was just another pussy to a guy like this, right? Even through her loathing, she could recognize the rare delicacy in which he treated her. Fuck, anyone that pulled a quarter of the shit she had done or said with this man would be in pieces at the bottom of the ocean.
She straightened, totally nude except for the choker he had placed around her neck with his initial on it. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her throat over top of the expensive necklace. He dragged her forward into his fully clothed body. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, telling her exactly how much she affected him.
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��I am going to bend you over this desk and punish you for your constant defiance. Then I’m going to make you come, because you need to see how much your body can crave what I can give you, Riley. After that I will mark you as mine before I send you home.”
She stiffened against him and opened her mouth to protest. He squeezed her throat, biting the precious metal of the necklace into her tender skin just enough to quiet her. “Do not forget what I am capable of, little girl.”
Her mouth closed as she was reminded sharply that her mother was at that very moment counting cards in his casino. He nodded his head, his thumb shifting to caress the delicate skin above the choker. “I am describing what I intend to do to you so you will understand that you can always trust what I say to you.”
She stared up at him with wide eyes. He meant that she could trust what he said, whether it was good or bad. He would always tell her the truth. Which meant, when he said he intended to take her and keep her, he wasn’t lying. He meant every word. Suddenly, her future seemed much more uncertain than it did just a few hours ago.
“Bend over my desk.”
She shook her head, refusing to move. It wasn’t like she planned on defying him. She just couldn’t do it. She simply couldn't force her feet to move. She didn’t want to be punished. She’d never been punished before. Not this way. She didn't know what to expect, but considering Soloman’s reputation, it probably wasn’t going to be good. Although the punishment wasn't the worst part. Her problem was his second promise. He said he was going to make her come. What the fuck was up with that? Not fucking possible. She was way too scared to be even a little aroused right now.
He didn't take her minor defiance badly. Instead, he took her arm and turned her to face the desk. Then he gently applied pressure to her lower back. At first, she didn’t move, too petrified to obey. He moved up behind her and shoved his knee into hers, sending her forward into the desk. When she automatically bent forward, he pressed a large hand between her shoulder blades until she was laying completely flat on his desk. Her breath came out in panicked gasps. She lay her head down on the hard surface and stared at the contents of his tidy desk with unseeing eyes.
He leaned across her, pressing his broad, muscular chest into her back and whispered, “You need to relax, Riley, or this will hurt.”
“No!” she gasped and tried to rear up.
He held her down as she struggled against him. He took a fistful of her hair and pressed the side of her face against the desk. She flailed out until he was forced to grab her wrists and hold them pinned against the small of her back. After a minute, she realized fighting was useless and likely to just get her and her mom hurt. She relaxed against the desk with a whimper.
“You done?” he growled, finally sounding like he was losing patience.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Fuck, you try my patience,” he said coldly, leaning back. He still held her wrists tightly in one hand. “I’m done with this shit, Riley. You've really earned this.”
She didn't get a chance to ask what she earned before his hand came down on her ass in a sharp slap. She cried out in pain as the blow rocked her against the desk. Her brain barely managed to register the slap before another blow landed on her other ass cheek, and then another and another. He beat her relentlessly, without mercy until her ass felt as though it were on fire. She barely had time to process the pain and the aftermath of each hit when another landed.
Finally, after several long moments, the beating ended. She panted and moaned helplessly against his desk. Her ass was on fire. She flinched when his hand touched her again, this time curving over the heated skin and rubbing. She tried to move her hips to get away from him, but his hand tightened on her wrists, threatening pain if she protested.
He moved his hand back and forth across her ass cheeks, exploring them, soothing the heat and gently kneading. After his rough treatment, the tender touch felt amplified, tingles of pleasure skittering down her legs and up her back. He used his foot to pull her leg apart, opening her up to his exploration. She cried out in protest as his hand dipped down between her ass cheeks, circling her tight anus for just a second before moving down to her wet pussy.
She jerked her hips forward to get away from his long fingers as he touched her plump pussy lips, dragging his fingers through the soaked folds, before thrusting two of them into her tight passage without warning. She cried out and arched her back up to relieve the pressure. He released her hands to push her back down with a hand between her shoulder blades. He spread his hand over the angel tattoo on her back and shoved her sprawling across his desk, just the way he’d imagined her, and fucked her from behind with his fingers until she was mewling underneath him.
She bucked her hips and screamed out in pleasure as she soaked his fingers, reaching for the orgasm he knew he could give her. He fucked his fingers in and out of her while strumming his thumb across her clit, causing her to buck and bow beneath him uncontrollably. Her reaction beautiful and completely unsimulated. He leaned across her, still holding her down and driving her toward an explosive orgasm she never wanted to experience with a man like him.
“You still hate me, Riley?” he growled in her ear, pressing his thumb against her clit while thrusting his fingers hard against her g-spot. She came with a long wail, soaking his hand and filling his head with her sweet music.
Before she could completely come down from the sweet high of her orgasm he lifted her limp body off the desk and allowed her to collapse at his feet. He took a fistful of her soft, gorgeous hair in one large hand and unzipped his pants with the other. Taking his hard, veined cock out, he watched the half-confused dreamy look on her face and the jiggle of her perfect, bare breasts as she fought to get her breath back. He imagined her insanely gorgeous lips wrapped around his thick cock while he fucked her mouth and throat.
He had been so wound up from the first moment he laid eyes on this woman that it took him minutes to finish jacking off. The dark, greedy bastard in him enjoyed the look of surprise on her face as his hot semen hit her lips, chin and breasts, marking her as his.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Riley was pretty sure Soloman wasn’t planning on letting her go home that night, despite his assurance that he meant everything he said. Except someone set fire to his car. The wild look in his eyes as he stared down at her freaked her out. No one had ever wanted to possess her the way this man did. Sure, she had been lusted after, but this guy took the whole ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ thing to a new level.
He was in the process of reaching for her when someone had banged on his door, yelling that there was a fire in the parking lot. With a growl of frustration, he told her to get dressed and wait for him, then stalked out of his office. Riley didn’t need to be told twice. She’d run immediately toward the private washroom in his office to clean herself up.
“Fuck,” she whispered, taking in the vulnerable look on her face as she wet his hand towel and used it to clean the evidence of his release from her skin. Her heart thundered in painful reminder of the erotic scene that had played out moments before. Of how close she had come to begging him to fuck her on the floor of his office.
With a moan of distress, she tossed the towel down and frantically began pulling on her clothes. Knowing he would be back any moment to check on her, she shoved her bra into her purse and flew to the door, praying she hadn’t been locked inside. It opened easily, swinging inward. Without a second thought for how furious Soloman was going to be to find his prize toy gone, she flew down the stairs and made a beeline for Cilia.
Clearly, most of the bouncers were busy with whatever was happening in the parking lot, because no one stopped her from getting near one of the medium stakes poker tables. She slapped her hand down on the table in front of Cilia and snapped, “Time to go.”
Cilia’s head jerked up in surprise. Her honey blond hair was piled in a chic twist at the back of her head with curls framing her high cheekbones. Her wide, plump lips, similar to her daughte
rs, formed an ‘oh’ as she took in Riley’s sudden appearance. Several others at the table, including the dealer were also eyeing Riley.
“You aren’t wearing a bra, Riley. I can see your nipples outlined clear as day in this lighting. A girl with your assets should really always wear a bra in public,” Cilia announced, carefully placing her cards facedown on the table.
Riley blushed and crossed her arms over her chest as interested gazes began to check out the truth of Cilia’s statement. “It’s in my purse. Now, let’s go,” she growled.
Cilia raised an eyebrow and gave Riley a disappointed once over. “Well I guess that’s better than nothing, although your entire ensemble isn’t really appropriate. If I had known you were going to join me, I would have sent something over for you to wear.”
Riley shook her head and glared at her mother. She leaned over and spoke in Cilia’s ear, “Mr. Hart knows your secret, mother. It’s time for us to leave before he comes back.”
Cilia sat back in her chair and looked up at her daughter. Though she resented Riley’s interference in her life, she did trust the girl implicitly. Reaching for her chips, she gave the table a gracious smile and stood. “I suppose I will have to concede this game to you gentlemen. I must go and help my daughter dress more appropriately.”
Geez, what was up with everyone hating on her outfit?
With chin held high, Cilia headed for the front door. Riley grabbed her arm and swung her around toward the side exit Roman had dragged her through earlier. She had been way too angry at the burly bodyguard to notice her mother gambling a few yards away. Cilia nearly tripped over her long, black velvet skirt as Riley rushed her through the thankfully unguarded door and into the parking lot.
The two women took a brief moment to gape in awe at the inferno created by Soloman’s Audi S7 turned into a fireball. Cilia looked at her daughter, awe and respect reflected on her face. “Did you set a fire just to get me out of there?”
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