by Taylor Lee
Bai reached for his shirt and his boots. He put them on, then took his cigarette case out of the shirt pocket, removed a cigarette, and took his time lighting it. He smoked quietly, his face impassive, watching the man on the floor try to gain some semblance of control.
Finally, his face wracked with pain, Alex looked up at Bai and shook his head with a mixture of chagrin and disbelief.
“I thought ghost fighters died off five hundred years ago after Zhao Ming died,” he muttered in a raspy voice.
Bai shrugged. “I studied his journals.”
Alex stared at him. He knew that the journals of the ancient Shaolin monks were guarded like the emperor’s jewels. Moreover, they were written in a classic Chinese dialect no one had spoken or written for centuries. He shook his head again, unable to grasp what Bai was saying. After several minutes, he began to get his breath back. He glanced up to see Bai watching him, as if judging the extent of his injuries.
Alex shrugged aside the concern in Bai’s eyes and groaned, looking down in amazement at the marks emerging on his body.
“What the hell was that you were doing to me on the floor? Christ, I have never seen anything like that in my life.”
“Something I learned as a kid in the streets of Paris getting the shit kicked out of me. It’s called savate, essentially French kickboxing. After you’ve healed up, maybe I’ll give you a lesson or two.”
Alex nodded, then gagged again spitting a fresh mouthful of blood in the towel.
Bai looked at him without speaking for a moment, then said, “Alex, Elena is your sister and she loves you. She will always love you. But kid, she is my woman, soon to be my wife. She belongs to me now. She is mine. Elena loves me more than anything in the world, as I do her. Nothing you can do or say will change that.”
Alex flushed and looked down, refusing to meet Bai’s eyes.
Bai stepped closer. With the toe of his boot, he raised Alex’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.
“Look at me, Alex. Hear me well. Stay the hell out of my way.”
Bai took a deep drag off his cigarette and turned to walk toward the door. He hesitated for a moment in the doorway, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
“One more thing, Alex. Just so you know. When I get someone down on the floor and turn it loose -- they don’t get up. The only reason you did is because you are Elena’s brother, Wyatt’s son, and Wan’s grandson.”
~~~
Alex sat against the wall, unable to move for long moments after Bai left the dojo. Every part of his body ached, throbbed with pain. He knew his ribs were broken, likely the reason he kept spitting up blood. He should go to the infirmary and make sure he didn’t have serious internal injuries, but he was too embarrassed. He didn’t want anyone, especially his sister or his father, to know how badly Bai had beaten him. He knew they would say that he let his anger compromise his skill, turning him into a novice. But it was more than that. He couldn’t figure it out. He was a highly trained kung fu master. God damnit! Even angry, he knew how to fight. But he hadn’t put a single mark on Bai. Christ, to be honest, he never touched him.
As he sat on the floor, his head thrown back against the wall, trying to get a grip on what happened, he saw Bai’s eyes and the expression on his face when he warned Alex to stay out of his way. It was the Frenchman, the man, not the myth. The reality was more frightening than the lore. Alex shuddered, knowing for the first time in his life he saw a human incarnation of an animal in the wild. A poised predatory animal primed to take down its prey. With a tremor that shook him to his core, Alex acknowledged that this was the man his beloved sister would marry.
~~
Chapter 7
Elena sat at her dressing table, taking the jeweled pins from her hair, reliving the evening. She shook out her hair and let it fall down to the middle of her back in a luminous cloud of fire red curls. She smiled at the reflection of her flushed cheeks in the mirror, remembering how Bai freed her hair as they danced. He tucked the pins in his pocket as if they were his to take, as if she was his to take. It was such an intimate thing to do that she blushed thinking about it. She wasn’t surprised that people were shocked at the way they danced. From the first throbbing beat of the music to the last whispery wail of the horn, her body responded in aroused sensual movements to Bai’s erotic solicitations. She thought with a guilty little grin, it was as though they were making love to one another in front of two hundred people.
That is what he did to her, what he had always done. Just looking at her with that wicked smile made her pulse race and shivery sensations flood over her. Even now, she could feel him on her body, tweaking her nipples, trailing his lips up the length of her leg, running his hands over her thighs, her hips, pinching her bottom. She saw his teasing smile, heard his throaty whispers telling her what he intended to do to her. How he would suck her, bite her, how he would spank her ass bright red. A hard tremor shook her groin at the memory. She gripped the edge of the table, a rush of moisture pooling between her thighs.
God, it was a wonder he hadn’t laid her on the floor and flat out fucked her. She giggled at the thought. She would have loved to see the reaction of those self important biddies with their put on airs and disapproving whispers. They would be apoplectic. But then they would have been the first to grovel for an invitation to the next party. To preen and simper for any acknowledgement from the handsome rogue they fluttered around. To fight over the crumbs of recognition he flicked their way.
Bai was a sensation. Elena knew it and she reveled in it. Better than anyone, she understood his powerful pull. His sinful good looks and sheer animal magnetism sheathed in a barely respectable veneer attracted and frightened both men and women. Privileged people who in every other circumstance considered themselves the “cock of the walk.”
Dear God, she loved him. More than she had thought it possible to love a man. She remembered his entrance to the ballroom and how a hush fell over the crowd. She wasn’t surprised. That’s how she felt every time she saw him. Mesmerized – and then breathless with excitement.
She knew he would be angry that the men at the party had been ogling her, lusting after her. She saw the look on his face when he came in. She had seen that look before. She knew it well and knew what it meant. A groin clenching shiver of fear fraught with desire rushed over her at the thought of his promised reprisal.
Damn, she thought with a flippant smile, what did he expect? It wasn’t her fault. She was beautiful. How many times and in how many ways did he tell her that? Though she enjoyed the attention from other men, she didn’t openly seek it. Men had always looked at her like that; like they would eat her alive if they could.
She stood up and slipped off her dress and threw it over the back of the chair. She tried to decide if she should leave on her sexy underwear, knowing how much Bai enjoyed undressing her. She had begun wearing outrageous silky lacy ensembles when she and Bai became lovers. Lei had introduced her to the ass hugging drawers and lacy camisoles that Bai lusted over. She blushed as she stripped off her lacy garters, hearing Bai’s chuckle when she dared to kick up her leg, knowing that every man and woman in the room had seen her bare legs covered only by the sheerest silk stockings available. She felt a tremor of excitement, remembering him calling her his naughty little whore and threatening to paddle her ass.
Bai was meeting with her father and grandfather after the party and she wasn’t sure when he would return, but decided she had time to bathe. Reveling in the warm water laced with rose petals and honeysuckle, Elena ran her hands and probing fingers over her body, imagining Bai’s sinful touch. After long, languorous moments of soaking in the fragrant water, she stood by the side of the enormous tub and let the water rivulets run over her naked body. She smiled at herself in the wall length mirror, as the water dripped over her full breasts. It clung to the tips of her rosy upturned nipples, then trickled down to her bare mons. Bai insisted that she use a special sugar wax on the soft fleshy mound so that he h
ad an unobstructed view of her most private parts. She had been startled at his request and, even now, she blushed at the sight of her intimate folds, unprotected, open. With a soft cotton towel, she rubbed the moisture off her taut belly, long slender legs, and curvy ass. She loved the way her skin warmed and flushed from the rough friction. With one last appreciative look over her shoulder at her lush body, she slipped on one of the sheer nightgowns and robes that Bai loved and went back to the bedroom to wait for him.
She was sitting at her dressing table brushing her gleaming hair when the door opened and Bai walked in. She jumped up and started toward him, a glorious smile lighting her face. She hesitated, surprised to see he was dressed in the fitted gi pants he wore when he sparred and a white silk shirt. He gave her a curt nod. Striding over to the liquor cabinet, he poured himself a shot glass of bourbon. He threw it back in one swallow and poured himself another. Leaning back against the elaborately carved parson’s table, resting his ass against the edge, he glared at her.
Elena frowned when she saw the hard grimace on his face and inched toward him. He shook his head and held up his hand stopping her.
“Not now, Elena,” he said and turned to refill his glass.
Elena looked at him surprised, unable to hide her hurt.
“What’s wrong, Bai?”
He shook his head and scowled at her.
Elena had seen that level of hard anger on his face before and knew it masked an undercurrent of rage. She didn’t know why he had arrived so late at the party, but suspected that something bad had happened. She had felt the tension in his body and had seen the serious expressions on both her father and grandfather’s faces when they went to Bai’s office after the dance. She assumed Bai would tell her about it when they were alone.
She stepped back, knowing from experience that it was better not to push him. But when he didn’t speak, instead just glared at her from under hooded eyes, she took a deep breath and said quietly, “Where have you been, Bai?”
He took a large swallow of the potent liquor, emptying the glass, and quickly poured another. He toed off his boots and kicked them against the wall. He rose up on his toes and flexed his bare feet, the way he did before he fought. He raked his eyes insolently over her body. She resisted the protective urge to cover her taut nipples and the vee at the apex of her thighs, clearly visible through her sheer gown. He leaned back against the table, resting on his hands, a move that emphasized his hard muscular thighs and equally hard erection. His eyes narrowed and a sneer curled his lips when he saw her eyes dart to the prominent bulge in his trousers.
Ignoring her open gaze, he answered her question with a dismissive nod.
“Where have I been? Beating the shit out of your brother, why?”
Elena was startled, then stammered, “Bai…uh…I…Really?”
“Yes, really. And don’t tell me the little fucker didn’t deserve it,” he said glaring at her.
“Bai, he’s jealous and he’s worried about me.”
“Yes, and he’s a little spoiled prick. Like someone else I know. He deserved to have his ass kicked.”
Elena turned away, hiding her concern for Alex, trying to decide how to respond to Bai’s anger. She waited for a moment.“Bai, Alex is just trying to protect me.”
“Yes, and if he wasn’t your brother, he’d probably be trying to fuck you like every other goddamn man was tonight,” Bai said, his voice shaking with a quiet fury.
Elena shuddered, knowing he was taunting her, purposely exacerbating their argument, but she couldn’t hold back a sharp retort.
“Bai, stop! You know that isn’t what this is about.”
“Ah, what is it about, Elena? What’s it about? I come to our party tonight and see my fiancée -- the woman I’m going to marry three days from now -- surrounded by what would you say, maybe thirty men? Is that about right, Elena? Or were there more? Too many for me to count? What was it? Forty? Fifty?”
He shook his head in disgust, his face tight with anger.
He added with a snarl, “And then I have to listen to your goddamn brother complaining about how I make a living…”
Elena broke in, “Bai, I’m not going to listen to this. You obviously need to be alone. I’m going to go to another room for the night.”
She turned and started toward the door.
Bai laughed, a ruthless taunting laugh. He stepped in front of her.
“Like fuck you are. You’re not going anywhere except right here.”
He moved toward her with a menacing growl.
Elena kept her voice as calm as she could and said in a harsh whisper, “Don’t touch me, Bai. I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”
She turned away from him and ran out to the side garden, slamming the French doors behind her.
~~~
Bai growled a low primitive sound. Tossing his glass against the wall, he shoved through the doors and chased after her. She was fast, but her long gown and robe hampered her escape. Within seconds, he was on top of her, grabbing her, holding her struggling body against his rigid chest.
Breathing hard he rasped in her ear, “Damn you, Elena. I told you to stay.”
She twisted fiercely, trying to break his hold.
“I am not a goddamned dog, Bai. No one tells me to ‘stay.’”
He laughed a harsh ugly sound.
“Hmm. No one except me, oui, mon amour?”
They struggled for a minute and Elena almost escaped his hold. Bai tightened his grip pinning both of her arms behind her back with one strong hand. With his other arm tight around her chest, he hauled her over to a nearby stone bench and bent her over the back. She shrieked and tried to break free, but he held her firm, pressing her stomach against the rough stone. He muttered to her to hold still, then jerked her gown up over her hips and pressed his groin against her bare bottom.
She strained against his aroused cock grinding against her ass and hissed furiously, “Bai, for God’s sake, what are you doing?”
“What am I doing? I will tell you what I’m doing, bebe. First, I’m going to bend you over like this and then I’m going to rip this goddamn nightgown off of you and when you are naked, I’m going to fuck you! Any other questions?”
“Bai, let me go. Someone will see us. Damn you! We can’t do this here!”
“We can’t, Elena? Why not? I told you to stay. But no, you wanted to run outside--to the garden. I think you like the idea of an audience, don’t you, cherie? You want to drive all those men crazy? Taunt them? Tease them? You might be right, ma putain méchante petite, my naughty little whore. Rather than putting a brand on your ass, perhaps I need to fuck you in front of the world. That may be the best way to claim you. Make it clear that you are mine!”
She twisted hard and managed to roll away from him. She stood up to run, but her feet tangled in the hem of her gown and she stumbled. He reached out for her and caught the back of her robe. The sound of tearing fabric mixed with angry grunts filled the air as he trapped her. He threw her to the ground, bracing her body with his, breaking her fall.
With a quick motion, he flipped her over to her back and with both hands tore the flimsy robe and gown down the middle. Shoving the tattered fabric aside, he bared her naked body. Grunting, he ripped open the placket on his trousers and freed his engorged prick. With a deft twist of his hips, he shoved his pants past his knees and kicked them off. He shrugged out of his shirt and loomed up over her, his bare torso straining with hard delineated muscle. His raging cock pressed up against his gut, the swollen head flaring, purple and swollen.
Ignoring the angry look on her face when he thrust his frenzied naked body over her, he grabbed both her hands in one of his strong hands and held them above her head. She writhed and twisted under him, but with his other hand he forced her knees apart and rose up above her, wedging his knees between her legs.
Elena’s face was flushed with fury. The more he held her down, the angrier she became.
“Damn you, Bai! Damn yo
u. Get off me, now. I mean it! I’m angry!”
She tossed her head from side to side, panting, groaning, struggling to free herself, but his grip was too strong, his hold too fierce.
He looked down at her naked body shining in the moonlight and his already hard cock throbbed painfully, semen leaking from its engorged head. He was beside himself with lust. Her skin glowed like alabaster and he wanted to take her, crush her, but first he had to taste her. She arched up, trying to push him away, but only succeeded in pressing her breasts higher, closer to his hungry mouth.
“Ah, oui, cherie. You want me to taste you? To suck on you? Is that why you are pushing those beautiful breasts up, trying to reach my lips? You want my tongue on your nipples? Like this?”
He dragged the rough edge of his tongue across the tip of one nipple and grinned when it puckered and hardened. With agonizing slowness, he licked between her breasts, then grazed her other nipple with the hard rough edge of his practiced tongue. He blew against the hardened tips and smiled when she pushed her breasts up and cried out, begging for his mouth. He laughed and put his hand on her chest pressing her back down against the ground.
“Ah, non, non, cherie. You want me to give you pleasure? Vous combler de plaisir? To lick you, bite you? Suck on these luscious breasts that make me weep with their beauty? Is that what you want, mon amie? To make you scream with desire?”
“Please, Bai. Yes, please!” she moaned and thrust up against him. Her face was flushed now. Need had replaced anger.
“Ah, but ma petite putain, what about your vagin? You want me to suck on your nipples and ignore your sweet little pussy?”