Decadence After Dark: The Complete Collection (Dark Romance box set) : Owned, Claimed, Ruined, Lie With Me, Elicit (Decadence After Dark )

by M Never

  Protecting and caring about her? “Are you both fucking her?” I spit.

  Jett rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You are misinterpreting what caring and protecting means.”

  “Then why don’t you clarify,” I seethe. “Because I’m having a difficult time trying to understand.” How could he do this? Betray me? Betray that girl? He’s done nothing but preach about freedom of choice, yet here he is conspiring with Kayne.

  Everything I feel for him is suddenly in question.

  Who is Jett, really? What is his endgame?

  Jett expels a deep, unsettled breath before pressing his forehead to mine. I know he sees the doubt swirling in my eyes.

  “Do you trust me, London?” he asks simply.

  “I did up until five minutes ago,” I profess.

  “I’m asking you to not give up on that trust. To have everything we’ve been through the last few months outweigh the last few minutes. I need your trust now more than ever. Now more than I ever will,” he actually pleads.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking me.” I fight to keep my voice resilient.

  “Yes, I do. I know exactly what I’m asking you. I’m asking you to be there for me the same way I am for you, and when the time is right, I’ll tell you everything. If what we’ve been through matters at all. If I matter at all, you’ll do this. You’ll trust me with no questions asked.”

  “You’re asking me to go on blind faith?” Does he have any idea who he’s talking to?

  “Blind faith.” He captures my face sternly. Severely. Almost alarmingly.

  What Kayne and Jett are doing goes against everything I fled from. Escaped from. He must know that. He must know what he’s asking me to do is nearly impossible.

  “London, please.” Jett kisses me zealously. Passionately. Downright desperately. “I don’t want to lose you over this. We’ve come too far, and there’s too much at stake to turn back now.” Jett continues to kiss me urgently, over and over again. It’s a plea I can’t resist. Or deny. I grab his wrists and kiss him back, our tongues dueling as my head and my heart engage in an epic battle.

  “Don’t make me regret this.” I sink my nails into his skin. “Don’t make me fucking regret trusting you, Jett.”

  “Little bird.” He presses his entire body against mine. “When this is all over, regret will no longer exist in your vocabulary. I’m going to give you everything you never knew you needed, and all the things you’ve been too afraid to wish for.”

  I soften under his formidable hold and righteous vow. The man could melt an icicle in the dead of winter with just his fiery words.

  “Trust me,” he hums, hypnotizing me. “Sometimes things are not always what they seem.”

  “That’s what scares me.”

  “You have nothing to be afraid of as long as you’re with me,” he promises righteously.

  I hope so. I have put my extremely fragile life in his hands. An infancy life I have only owned for a few short days.

  “Can I meet her?” I request boldly.

  Jett frowns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kayne wants her isolated.”

  “She’s going to go crazy all alone,” I press.

  “She not alone. She has me. And Kayne. Between the two of us, we keep her busy.”

  I raise a dubious eyebrow as I inspect the closed door opposite us. “What’s she like?”

  “Feisty. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He winks.

  I stare forlornly at the door. Too many bad memories to count rush back. Endless hours locked away, objectified by the person who was supposed to love me, a sex pawn to utilize for favors and bribes. Years and years of emotional torment.

  “How is she handling Kayne?”

  Jett gazes up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “They’re still getting acquainted.”

  “Acquainted?”

  “She had a hard time submitting at first, but I think she’s finally coming around. She’s. . . .” He blows out some hot air. “Important to him. As crazy as that must sound right now.”

  Important to him? Then why the fuck is he holding her captive? I try to wrap my head around the obscure information.

  “Crazy doesn’t begin to cover it.” I twist my lips disapprovingly.

  “So . . . are we all on the same crazy train?” Jett asks delicately.

  I nod tentatively. I may not like it, but I’ll get on board. Blind faith, right? Whoever would have thought me of all people would buy into such a thing? The eternal pessimist.

  “Good. And just to err on the side of caution, let’s keep this conversation to ourselves. The less people who know the better, okay?”

  “Yes, Jett.” I press my lips together condescendingly.

  He narrows those reflective eyes. “Brat.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I like when you’re bratty. It means I get to spank you.”

  “How often does Kayne’s pet get spanked?” I despise using the word pet.

  “She’s his kitten,” he corrects. “And enough. And, if you’re not careful, I’ll bend you over my knee right here, right now, and show you how your owner handles it when you misbehave.”

  “You’re my owner now?” I coquettishly challenge.

  “I’ve always been your owner. From the very first moment you walked into this house.”

  If any other person professed that, I’d shrink away. But when Jett says it, I feel empowered. I feel wanted. I feel protected. I experience all these foreign elations even under the grimmest circumstances. If that’s not true ownership, I don’t know what is.

  “Now go on. Get out of here.” He gestures with his blond head. “Go misbehave so I can take care of you later,” he orders, his words dripping with sexual innuendo.

  I glance at the door one last time.

  “Don’t worry, robin. I’ll take care of her, too. And everyone else in this house.”

  I lock eyes with Jett. “I’m holding you to that.”

  He smiles confidently, his pearly white incisors visible. “When will you learn? I-run-shit.”

  I mirror his expression. “Maybe tonight, when you show me exactly what happens when I misbehave.”

  His gaze darkens. “I can’t fucking wait for that.”

  Me neither.

  MY MASTERLY CRAFTED UNIVERSE IS falling apart piece by fragile piece, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  I stand silently in London’s doorway as she once again nurses Jenna after another brutal night with Javier. I may barely be able to hear her whispers, but I can feel her consoling tone ripple through the room. It blankets it like a warm mist chasing away the cold.

  With a deep breath, I stride across the threshold and hand her the topical ointment we needed to treat the lacerations. That fucking lowlife took sexual sadism to a whole nother level tonight. A level above and beyond anything Jenna is used to.

  London takes the little yellow tube robotically and applies the clear cream gently all over Jenna’s broken skin. He whipped her so severely she can’t lay on her back. If a client had pulled this shit, they would be carried out of the house unconscious and unrecognizable. But because it was Javier, we have to turn a blind eye. We have to suck it up and let it slide because we are so close to El Rey, Kayne and I can both taste it. Years of work and millions of dollars have brought us to this point. There’s so many layers, so much at stake, we need to push on as much as it hurts. And it does fucking hurt. Seeing Jenna suffer is killing me. Seeing the look in London’s eyes is absolutely destroying me.

  Once Jenna’s back is covered and she is calm, London slips off the bed and disappears into the bathroom without so much as an audible breath. The silence is frightening. I follow right behind her, hot on her heels.

  I stand behind her as she washes her hands in the scalloped sink, that vacant stare haunting us both. She’s lost, someplace dark, someplace distant, in a nightmare that will follow her forever. A nightmare where she’s powerless, and I’m helpless to aid in her escape.

>   London dries her hands, flustered as I curl my fingers around her lean hips. As soon as my palms connect with her waist she spins defensively on her heel. “How can you let this happen?” Her hiss is more deadly than a cobra’s. “Where are all your promises of choice and safety? Where are they right now?” Hot tears pool in London’s eyes and my heart weeps for her.

  “I know you’re upset—”

  “I’m not upset! I’m pissed off!” Her tears tumble. “I’m pissed at you and Kayne and Javier and myself! I’m pissed at Jenna because she thinks she has something to prove. I’m pissed off about this whole fucked up situation!” London explodes, crying a torrential downpour of angry tears.

  “I know you are.” I attempt to hug her, comfort her, but she pushes me away. “Do you know who’s lying in that bed right now? Not just Jenna. Me. She’s exactly where I was, traveling the exact same path. And we are just watching it happen. Why?” For the first time in a long time I have no answer. London searches my face with so much anguish it causes another bout of destruction in my soul. “I have endured all kinds of punishments, Jett, but the worst kind of torture is seeing someone you care about suffer.”

  No truer words have ever been spoken. I’m sharing in her affliction right this moment.

  I try to pull her to me once more.

  “No,” she fights. She fights until there’s no more fight left. I push until she finally allows me to tug her into my arms.

  “I know you’re hurting.” London sags against me. “I know Jenna is hurting, but I need you to be strong,” I implore. “For the other girls, for Kayne, for Ellie . . . and for me. I need you to be my support.” I cradle her face. “There are things going on. Things as critical as life and death. I promised I would tell you everything when the time is right. And I will keep that promise, but right now, right this second, I need you. I need you and your blind faith.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it.” She whimpers. “I don’t know how much longer I can last.” London drops her head on my shoulder and releases another river a tears. “I’m so tired.”

  “I know you are, baby.” I support us both by leaning against the lip of the marbled vanity. “But I also know you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You are a fighter, and that’s who I need in my corner right now. Can you be my heavyweight?”

  London sighs exhausted. “Featherweight, maybe.”

  I chuckle lightly. “Featherweights can still throw a deadly punch.”

  “I’d like to punch Javier,” London muses menacingly.

  “Me too, little bird. Me too.” I’d like to do way more than punch him. So would Kayne.

  “Will you stay with us until we fall asleep?” London requests.

  “Are you actually going to sleep?”

  “No,” she hums. “But I can pretend.”

  I TRY TO DO AS Jett asks and stay strong for everyone, even if I don’t fully understand what’s happening. Everything is changing at a drastic pace, and I’m just trying to keep up.

  Jett has given me my life back, so at the very least I can afford him with my trust—with my blind faith, even if it is a brand new concept to explore. It’s been three weeks since my universe exploded. Since I killed my father in an outburst of rage and found out the man I once called Master was unassumingly living under the same roof as me.

  Jett has been the one who’s helped me through it all. Who’s protected me, supported me, comforted me. Loved me. That word is strange to use. No one has ever loved me. They’ve tolerated me, taken care of me because they were paid to, but never truly cared.

  I want to be a person who cares, who utilizes their emotions even if it hurts. I understand what pain is, and I know I can survive it. I don’t want to be empty. I don’t want to be no one. Nothing.

  With Jett, I feel like I’m someone, and that is an empowering thing.

  Within that empowerment, I search for my strength.

  I find it for Jenna and Ellie and Jett and myself.

  Jenna is bouncing back, but I can see the light dimming in her eyes. Her innocence is fading, and in its place, a jaded woman is emerging. The thing I’m most fearful of.

  I don’t want her to become the miserable person I once was. She’s too happy, too sweet. A breath of fresh air amongst the smog.

  Despite my worries, the show must go on. Jett is adamant that Mansion runs as smoothly as possible, which means we all keep up with our clients’ needs. And my regular is here expecting what he pays an obscene amount of money for. Me.

  I walk into the client bedroom dressed in a lacy pink baby doll with leather trim and sky-high heels. My long red hair is blown out pin straight and my eyes are rimmed in black. Seduction made to order.

  Marcus is already prowling the room, white dress shirt unbuttoned and a shot of whisky straight up in his hand. He’s younger than many of the clients who frequent Mansion and extremely good looking. Sessions with him are easy to swallow.

  “There’s my girl.” He smiles as I saunter toward him. I’m Jett’s girl.

  Marcus kisses my neck once I’m within reach. I play into his hands, reacting the way he wants. The way he expects. Moaning as he runs the tip of his tongue along my collarbone.

  “You look good enough to eat.” I catch a whiff of whiskey on his breath as he moves up my neck. He does love his booze.

  “Thank you. Are you ready to indulge?” I entice him, touching my index finger to his lip.

  “I am. Where’s Spice? I requested a duo.”

  My stomach sinks. “She’s under the weather. I think Jett is sending someone in her place.” And as if on cue, Nadia floats into the room.

  She’s a tall, curvy, bubbly brunette who loves sparkles. She’s always decked out in some kind of rhinestone ensemble.

  “The party can start now.” Nadia wastes no time cozying up to me and Marcus.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” He grabs the back of my head and urges Nadia and I to kiss. We put on a show, exaggerating the embrace to amp up his excitement. It works like a charm, because within a few seconds, he’s moaning and grabbing himself.

  Marcus steps back as Nadia and I continue to kiss and touch and seduce. He downs his drink then drops the glass on the small wet bar against the far wall.

  “Strip,” he orders as he unfastens his cuff links. Nadia and I comply like the naughty little vixens we are, pulling at each other’s delicate spaghetti straps and peeling the clingy material off one another’s body. Marcus keens approvingly as we stand before him, completely naked, ready and waiting.

  “Sugar, lay on the bed.” He creeps toward us, dropping his navy blue dress pants. “I want you coming while my cock is in your mouth.”

  I shift backwards onto the mattress. There’s no real bedding, just pink satin sheets and two puffy pillows.

  I lay on my back as Marcus grabs one of my wrists and secures it to a cuff attached to the frame of the bed. “I was in the mood for a little kink today,” he clues me in as he squeezes my breast. Kinky isn’t usually his style, but I guess we all need to mix it up every now and again. Marcus secures my other wrist as Nadia cuffs my ankles. Lust shines in his bright green eyes as I lay there tethered, naked, and spread wide.

  “Fuck, you’re somthin’ else.” He slides down his white boxer briefs, exposing his erection. His small erection. For as tall and muscled and built as he is, Marcus is not well endowed. He was blessed with good looks and smarts, but that’s about it. I’ve faked it with him every single time, and today, I’m sure, will be no different.

  “Make her come,” Marcus tosses back to Nadia as he straddles my head. “I want to feel you moan all around me.” He shoves his short, stocky cock in my mouth, and it barely stretches past my molars. Sucking him off is like giving a toy action figure head.

  I do genuinely moan when Nadia licks me, though. That I enjoy. Women just do it for me. Her soft tongue and plump lips grazing against my clit is heavenly. I concentrate more on her than Marcus as he pumps his pudgy cock in and out. “Tha
t mouth is so fucking good. Take it, bitch. Take all of it.”

  I clamp my jaw, battling the urge to laugh. Does he know how much of an asshole he sounds like? There’s nothing to take!

  As bad as it might be, I close my eyes and pretend I’m sucking off Jett. I smell him, I taste him, envisioning those two devious little balls that tease and pleasure and tickle. Naughty thoughts of Jett and the feel of Nadia’s probing tongue brighten a burning in my core. I pull on the restraints about to come when Nadia let’s up for a fraction of a second. My orgasm deflates as I pop open my eyes, catching movement in my peripheral vision.

  Surprisingly, I see Kayne stalk through the room with his pet on a leash. It’s my first good look at the woman he keeps behind the door. I don’t have much time to assess as Nadia picks up where she left off, recharging my climax. I fight against the restraints as my body responds to the persistent flattening of her tongue over my pussy. Oh shit. I breathe laboriously through my nose as the sensations cycle through me. As my inner walls contract and my sweltering flesh throbs. I release a muffled cry as I come, sucking crazily on Marcus’s baby cock.

  “So damn good.” Marcus withdraws his swollen length from between my dry lips as I pant on the bed. He wasn’t even close to a climax. The man has better stamina than a long distance runner, I’ll give him that.

  “You aren’t done yet,” he promises darkly as he unlocks my wrists. Once my ankles are free, I sit up, stealing a clear look at Kayne and the slave kneeling between his legs. She looks so tiny engulfed possessively against his broad body. But she’s beautiful, submissive, and clearly well-trained. She doesn’t move a muscle as he holds her by her rhinestone collar. The two of them watching us intently. Her big green eyes make my stomach flutter.

  I move in a daze as Marcus gives us direction on the bed. Nadia lays flat on her stomach as we secure her in the cuffs.

  “I want to watch her eat you out.” He grabs for a condom in the mirrored nightstand as I slide my wet flesh underneath her face. Marcus sheaths his sad little erection and plows into Nadia, who barely detects him inside her. We share a communicative look, and I again have to keep from laughing.