“I did nothing wrong,” she said back, dropping her hand, suddenly wanting away from him.
But he wasn’t ready to let her go—he had never been ready to let her go.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You haven’t asked for permis—”
“Is that really the game you want to play?” Kit asked, his voice gone low.
Maybe that should have scared her, the way his voice changed, but fear was the last thing she felt.
His words were a challenge, goading her to deny him what he wanted.
But even as every part of her screamed to do just that, Luna couldn’t force the words past her lips. It wasn’t just about denying him—it would be denying herself.
“Then punish me if that’s what you want,” she said, using that same tone of his. “Do whatever you want.”
For the briefest of moments, she thought he would just drag her over to the bed, force her across his lap, and spank her ass until he was satisfied, but she knew in the next heartbeat that it wouldn’t be that simple.
He didn’t intend to make this easy on her at all.
His gaze seemed to seize on the gold encircling her throat.
Hooking his finger through the loop dangling from it, he pulled her forward and away from the door where she stood.
There was no ignoring the shift in his demeanor, the way he seemed to shift right before her eyes. She didn’t dare move, could hardly breathe as he took out a knife, spinning it between his fingers, light glinting off the metal.
That quickly, he had her attention.
She didn’t fear he would hurt her, not in that way, but something about the look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.
The smart thing would have been to be afraid, but she only felt excitement.
Those cold, gray eyes of his never left her face as he came closer, letting the tip of the wickedly sharp blade in his hand drift down the column of her throat then over the swell of her breasts before reaching the deep V.
Realizing his intention, she shook her head. “I actually like this dress.”
Kit had smirked a moment before he slipped the blade beneath the fabric, pulling it away from her before yanking, slicing through the dress in seconds.
The knife clattered to the floor as he brought his hands up the torn sides and jerked, splitting it down the middle with ridiculous ease.
A rush of desire hit her, making the ache she was already feeling spiral higher.
It had never been a question of whether she wanted him. Her body didn’t seem to care what her head was thinking—but when she would give in.
His fingers fell on her thigh, venturing higher until his touch was just teasing her hip, then sliding across to the other.
“Are you afraid?” he asked. “You’re trembling.”
No, she wasn’t afraid, but she wouldn’t tell him that she was turned on, that she was craving his touch more than anything in the world.
That would be giving in to what he wanted, and she wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
“Not afraid then,” he said when she didn’t answer.
Without hesitation, he moved his hand from her hip to her thighs then beneath the lacy panties she wore.
A shuddering breath left her at the feel of his heated touch.
“Is this mine?” he asked as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her clit. “Or do I need to remind you?”
Even as what he was doing was making her toes curl and her teeth sink into her bottom lips, she was feeling reckless. “Remind me.”
In an instant, his touch was gone, and she was being spun around, the massive bed looming ahead of her before she was pushed down onto it.
She barely had a second to get her bearings before Kit was on her, and she heard him pulling off his tie.
“Give me your hands,” Kit ordered, his voice flat and unaffected.
That fact shouldn’t have filled with such dark anticipation for what he planned, but just the thought of what he was about to do to her.
Searing pain dragged her from her inner musings as she jerked from the pain, knowing that if he’d hit any harder, she’d have a five finger palm print on her ass.
“I won’t ask a second time.”
As she crossed her arms behind her back and his fingers skimmed over them before gripping her wrists, a thrill shot down her spine.
Unable to see him, she had to settle for the feel of the soft fabric rubbing over her skin as he looped and knotted the material, leaving her bound and unable to move her arms.
There wasn’t any give—no chance of freedom—as he finished. Not when she could just rotate her wrists, but nothing more.
One moment he was there, and the next, he was gone, cool air kissing her skin in his absence.
By the end of this night, he was going to make her regret ever agreeing to go anywhere with Agustín, and she couldn’t wait.
His mind had blanked over when he learned about her meeting, that she willingly offered herself up. He had wanted nothing more than to drag her out of there, and had Agustín intervened, Kit had been prepared to say fuck the job and tear the man apart.
But he’d done neither, letting his anger fester and stew until punishing her was the only thing he could think of—punish her for making him jealous, for taking away every shred of focus he possessed until he couldn’t think of anything but her.
He knew better than to come here, to risk the carefully orchestrated plan that had been in the works for weeks, but she was worth it. Because even now, with his tie binding her wrists and her panting breaths sounding like music to his ears, it wasn’t enough.
A fire still raged inside him.
“Don’t speak,” he ordered, tracing her spine with a fingertip, almost smiling at the way she shuddered.
It had been far too long since he’d last had her like this, and he wanted to make it count.
“Don’t even move unless I give you permission,” he said, finishing the order with a sharp crack of his hand against her ass.
Drifting his fingers back up, he smoothed the silky, dark strands of her hair over her shoulder to glimpse the gold choker encircling her throat.
How quickly a mere piece of metal brought him peace but also sparked darker urges inside him—urges he wouldn’t deny.
“Breathe,” he said, the only warning she got before he had her hair wrapped around his fist and pulled, forcing her up, a gasp spilling out of her.
Turning her head, he pressed his lips against hers, kissed the fight and resistance right out of her as she turned to putty in his arms. She moaned into his mouth, the sound breathless and wanting, but he wasn’t going to give her what she desperately wanted.
By the time he finished with her, she was going to fucking beg, but her begging to come, or her begging him to fuck her was anyone’s guess—even he wasn’t sure what his body wanted.
Because despite how furious he was with her, lust rode him hard.
Keeping her there, he got his hand back between her legs, thrumming her clit until she was rocking her hips into his touch.
He couldn’t ignore that little hitch in her voice that told him she was close to coming for him.
But as much as he wanted to give it to her, he stopped completely. “What do you say?”
“Oh, fuck you, Kit,” she said breathlessly, her arms straining, but she wasn’t getting anywhere.
“Wrong answer.”
“Please,” she forced out between gritted teeth.
And just because she managed that, he gave her a taste of what he would do if she would just stop being so fucking stubborn.
“Is it good, Luna?” he asked, liking the way she responded. “Then ask nicely.”
“God, please, Kit.”
Good enough.
He didn’t hold back any longer, rubbing hard until her breath exploded from her lungs and incoherent words tripped over one another.
“Come all over my fingers,�
�� he whispered, “Show me how bad you want it.”
He loved to see her like this, coming apart at the seams, breathless and free.
And that was when his control snapped.
Flipping the button of his trousers, he yanked at his zipper next, shoving them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, his erection springing free.
His mind was so seized on getting inside of her that he didn’t give a shit about getting unclothed completely.
She rocked back against him, but while the action made him smile, he still landed a measured slap to her ass. “Be still. You take what I give you.”
Her response was a broken moan, the sound making him push his fingers in deeper, twisting his fingers just so to reach the spot inside her that had his name falling from her lips.
Luna wasn’t a timid little thing, rather she arched her back a little deeper, spread her legs a little farther, and practically challenged him to see how he would respond.
His hand wrapped tight around his cock, he moved his fist up and back, needing to take the edge off because while he had her exactly where he wanted her, he wasn’t far behind.
With his free hand cradling the side of her head, he pushed her cheek down against the soft sheets. Holding her there, he lined his cock up with her slit rubbing himself through her wetness and liberally coating his cock until he was satisfied.
“Say it,” he commanded, not recognizing his own voice and the need that curled around those words.
Kit felt the tension in her, but that didn’t stop her from rubbing back against him—from panting his name as she tried to force him inside her.
When she still refused to speak, he fisted her hair, yanking her up until she was flush against him and his lips were at her ear.
“D’you want my cock?” he whispered, gently biting down on the shell of her ear before giving the same treatment to the delicate column of her throat.
A sudden urge to mark her came over him, and before he could quell the impulse, he was leaving a purpling bruise where his teeth had once been.
It wasn’t enough.
Wasn’t nearly fucking enough.
She nodded, and he didn’t give a shit that she hadn’t spoken the words—he was too far gone.
He meant to check himself, to ease his way inside her pussy, but the second he was there, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
That first slide, as wet, tight heat enveloped him, made him grit his teeth, his hips flexing as he tried to gain another inch.
There was no other place Kit would kill to be than right there inside her.
And if he needed to fuck her until she passed out to remind her of that fact, he would.
One jagged thrust, sinking in as deep as he could go, then pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside her, and back again, Kit couldn’t stop.
This was what he had missed for so long.
This was what he needed.
Harsh laughter left him as he heard her speaking, the words barely above a whisper as she told him how good he felt, how she needed more and more and more.
He slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her screams as she grew wetter in a rush, making him curse louder as he fucked her relentlessly.
“This is what you want, hmm?” he asked, voice low and harsh. “You don’t want to give it—you want me to take it.”
Luna wasn’t a fragile bird he needed to take his time with anymore.
She was strong and breakable, and fuck, he was going to break her in the best way possible.
“Say it’s mine,” he ordered, moving his hand from her mouth to her throat.
Her answer was immediate, breathless, and exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“I-I’m s-sorry,” she tripped over the apology as her pussy clamped down around him tight enough to make him see stars.
And when he could catch his breath again, he slapped the bare mound of her pussy and said, “Now give me what I want.”
“I love you,” she practically screamed, the words coming a second before she broke, the orgasm making her tremble and shake, repeating herself over and over again.
“I love you,” she said, with her voice and her body.
“I love you,” he said in return, losing himself inside her.
Chapter Eight
She was beautiful when she slept, her face soft and relaxed. Nothing in her dreams upset her, or at least not since Kit had known her. He liked watching her sleep, watching the varying emotions flit across her face as she slumbered. He found peace in it.
But tonight, despite how long he’d lain beside her, stroking her hair once she had finally passed out, he couldn’t find his peace.
It wasn’t just because of her, but because of everything he hadn’t said.
He hadn’t told her the truth.
He would have, Kit reasoned, had she asked for it, but since she didn’t, he felt no need to confide it.
Like how, exactly, he’d known she was with Agustín Contreras.
And without a doubt, he knew she wouldn’t like his answer.
Several hours ago …
“If you’re so intent on annoying me, feel free to leave,” Kit said, glaring over at Aidra who had yet to stop laughing at the lame joke she had just made.
“Sensitive today, Nix?”
Dropping his pen on the temporary desk until he could get back to his own in New York, Kit turned in the chair to face the one woman he’d been able to stand being around for as long as he had.
Aidra didn’t fear him nor did she have any interest in having sex with him, which made her the best person for her job.
Even if she could be bloody annoying at times.
“Was there something that you wanted? I’m sure Fang is free. Why not go spend time with him?”
“Because I’m enjoying my time with you. Besides, I’d told you before that it wouldn’t be smart to send a girl flowers a month after she tells you to stay away, hadn’t I?” She plucked an invisible piece of lint off the pencil skirt she wore, looking far too satisfied with herself for his taste. “But you see what happens when you stop following your own pig-headed advice and follow mine? Look at the progress we’ve made.”
It had been Aidra’s suggestion that Kit take Luna to marriage counseling. At first, he’d balked at the suggestion, not liking the idea of anyone, even Donna Marie, who was privy to many of his secrets, knowing about his personal life.
For many reasons, Luna was off-limits.
And before the session, he had been sure he would find a solution to the problem without anyone’s aid. It was what he was good at.
At least until Luna showed him that he wasn’t.
Even Kit cringed at the memory of the flowers he’d sent with a little note that said, ‘Forgive me.’ He’d wanted to get her attention, to get her to react—anything but the silent treatment that was threatening to do his head in.
But he hadn’t stopped at flowers, not even close.
If he tried to call, she had her number changed.
If he sought her out in person, she moved.
It was a vicious cycle he’d willingly succumbed to because … well, what had been the alternative? Let her walk away?
Watch as she slowly erased him from every part of her life until he no longer mattered to her?
Even the thought made his hand twitch.
By the end, Kit had been running low on options.
Until New York.
Until she had walked into his restaurant with all the bravado in the world and sat across from him to ask a favor.
One kiss was all it had taken to prove that all hadn’t been lost.
And despite what he thought he knew, Kit ultimately agreed to Aidra’s suggestion. It had taken a mere week to set it up, and less than a week to get Luna to agree to attend, albeit grudgingly.
In all of his years, that had been the single best decision he had ever made—besides marrying her, of course.
Aidra didn
’t want him to forget it.
“I’m just saying,” Aidra went on, oblivious to his souring mood—or just not caring. “I deserve a raise.”
“Fine,” Kit agreed.
Even if he weren’t currently trying to get her to stop speaking, he wouldn’t ever say she wasn’t worth what he paid her, or more.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, I’m taking your advice and going to see Fang. See to it that you don’t get into too much trouble while I’m away.”
Kit leveled her with a flat stare. “I’ll try my best.”
Gathering her things, Aidra came over to kiss his cheek before disappearing out of the penthouse apartment.
He was sitting, staring out the floor-length windows when he heard the elevator beep once more.
Without looking back, he asked, “Forget something?”
“On the contrary.”
Kit didn’t think anyone had a voice that made him want to commit murder more than Ariana Rivera.
Well, maybe her mother, once he thought about it.
All the same, he had to swallow his disgust as he turned, watching her walk toward him wearing a tan trench coat belted too tight.
The sight of her like that made his stomach turn. Once, during an assignment in Milan, Luna had surprised him wearing something similar and nothing beneath it.
Kit prayed Aidra was actually wearing clothes.
“I don’t recall giving you a key,” Kit said politely, keeping careful control of his temper—a constant job since he’d been forced to be around her.
“You didn’t, but I have a few friends of my own, you know.”
Then someone was asking to die—painfully.
“What d’you want, Ariana? I’m not in the mood for you.”
No one would dare talk to her like that without fear of repercussions, but Kit didn’t know such fear. And for whatever reason, this didn’t deter her from continuously seeking him out.
Like a fucking bloodsucking gnat.
“Aw,” she pouted, resting her hip against the edge of his desk. “I’m always in the mood for you, Nix. Will you ever tell me your real name?”
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