“Let’s sit down in the living room for this conversation,” I say, guiding her into the room. I sit on the coffee table facing her as she takes a seat on the couch in front of me.
“You’re kinda freaking me out, Félix,” Olivia whispers.
“What I’m about to tell you, you’re not gonna like . . . but it goes hand in hand with something you said earlier about the power of being a DeLancy. We all have responsibilities to the family name. Mine as head of the family is protecting everyone else and handling things you all cannot,” I pause and make sure she’s understanding where I’m coming from. When she nods, I continue, “This morning, I met with Finn Brisbane. You know who he is. Anyway, our families have a truce between the two. Finn found something and brought it to my attention. Our fathers had a contract that stated if Finn doesn’t marry one of the DeLancy daughters within a year of his father’s death, everything will then go to Ashton.”
Olivia’s eyes widen before narrowing in on me. “I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“Because Finn has chosen you to be his bride,” I grumble, still hating the fact my baby sister will be marrying him. I know there’s nothing that can be done, but it doesn’t mean I have to like what will eventually happen.
“What?” she screeches. “Finn is ten years older than me and I don’t even know anything about him! I can’t marry a man I don’t know. Please, Félix, don’t make me do this. Please find a way to fix this, a way to work around it,” she begs, tears welling in her eyes.
“Liv, there’s nothing we can do about this. If you don’t, a war will break out between our families and I for one don’t want to see that happen. But if Ashton takes the seat from Finn, then that’s what will happen. We don’t have any other choice. This backs us into a corner, and I’ll have you know it’s a corner I don’t like,” I growl.
“But why can’t he choose to be with one of the others,” she whines.
“I don’t know, but you’re the one he wants. I’m allowing this and I know he’ll take care of you,” I say, softly. “I will see if Finn is willing to give you a period of time to get to know him. Either way, he and I both want this to happen sooner rather than later. Ashton cannot take Finn’s seat. Will you please do this and not fight me on it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“I don’t have much of a choice . . .” she murmurs, lowering her head in defeat.
“Thank you, Olivia. He’ll be here next weekend, you can spend time with him then,” I state and stand from the coffee table.
I feel like shit for making my sister do this but it’s the right thing to do. There are few things I kept from her before our father’s death and one of the many things is the alliances our family has. I won’t start a war unless I have to.
The only thing I have left to do now in regards to my sister is let the bodyguard go. She won’t be needing him once she becomes Finn’s. He’ll have his own people watching over her, that is if he isn’t doing it himself.
I leave the living room and head for the stairs. Now that I’ve spoken with Olivia, I need to now go do the same with Madelaine. It’s time I explain the reasons why I’m keeping her here. She’s not a prisoner and I’m not trying to treat her as one.
I don’t bother with knocking as I open the door to her room. I step inside quietly in case she could be asleep. Only I don’t find her asleep or anywhere in her room, however I do find her window wide open.
Shit.
She wanted to get away from me so badly she climbed down three stories. “Fuck!” I snarl, slamming my fist into the wall by the door. I need to find her before it’s too late. Those other fuckers are looking for her and I know exactly what will happen if she ends up in the hands of one in particular.
I pull out my phone and call Malcolm, when he answers, I tell him to get men out there and find my woman. I also tell him to pick up Charles Rosseau and take him to the holding cell at the office. I’ll deal with him after I find Madelaine. He better pray she’s okay when I find her, otherwise I’m going to make his death even more painful than I already have planned.
I’m livid and want Charles’ blood for allowing this shit to happen in the first place. If it wasn’t for his fuckin’ ass, I wouldn’t have to worry about her out there. You could say I’m furious about the shit I discovered he allowed to happen to her as a child, and I’m done. The tears in her eyes earlier were enough to sign his death warrant and I’ll be the one to pull the trigger.
I storm down the stairs intending to go out there and look for her myself when my phone rings. I glance at the name and curse. “Not a good time, Rémy. I know you want to bitch at me too for the fuckin’ way I spoke to Madelaine and Olivia. But right now I need to go find—”
“Madelaine,” he says, interrupting me.
“Yeah, she’s gone,” I mutter.
“I know, she’s sitting in the car with me. We’re heading home now. I’ll explain when we get there,” my brother states and hangs up on me.
I let out a relieved breath and toss my phone on the table near the door. This is my fuckin’ fault. If I’d told her the truth about why I was keeping her with me from the get-go, she wouldn’t have needed to run. Knowing the fire in her, Madelaine would’ve gotten an attitude with me and snapped back rather than run from the room.
Dammit, I need to set things straight with her. Tell her with me she has nothing to fear. I would never harm her.
The door opens and I turn on my heel and find Madelaine stepping back into the house with Rémy guiding her.
Without a word I storm over to Madelaine, pull her into my arms, and hold her against me. Then I slide my hands up her sides until I’m cupping both sides of her face and capture her mouth with mine.
Madelaine gasps and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth, sealing our mouths together. I release the sides of her face and lift her into my arms. I’ll speak to my brother in a bit, first I need to show my woman how entrapped I am with her.
Chapter Fifteen
Madelaine
He’s lifted me up into his arms like I weigh nothing. While I’m not a thick woman, I’m not skinny. I have curves, and my butt is a bit thick. The only thing that balances me out is my big butt and well-endowed breasts. He doesn’t just lift me up and act like it’s nothing. The man took me up two flights of stairs to the third floor and didn’t set me back on the floor until we were at the door of the bedroom directly across from mine, which is his from the looks of it.
He opens the door and the first thing I see is a leather couch, the color of a Jersey cow’s hide. I only know that breed of cow because when I was a kid my dad made sure we spent some time in Oklahoma after my mom died. Looking back now, I’m sure he probably left to get away from people he owed money to.
Félix motions with his hand for me to venture forward, so I do. I walk into his bedroom and he shuts the door firmly behind us, turning the deadbolt so we’re both locked inside. He walks to the opposite side of the room while I take this in.
The ceiling of his bedroom is a chocolate brown and crown molding adorns the top of the walls. It’s a lovely contrast between the dark and the light, considering his floors are a honey brown and the walls are an off-cream color. There’s a TV in front of the couch with a plush rug underneath it, and there’s another rug underneath the bed. It kinda reminds me of those fancy looking ones at Home Depot, though I doubt he even shops there.
“Care for a drink?” Félix’s voice pulls me out of my head and I turn to face him, spotting the mini bar he has on the opposite wall with a built-in wine fridge, though I don’t see wine there. Instead I see various other liquors through the glass door.
“Tequila would be great.”
“Bourbon it is,” he jokes, opening the door to show me he only has bourbon and brandy from the looks of it.
“Bourbon is great,” I reply, running my hand along the back of the couch, still completely caught off guard he kissed me. I don’t know what I was expecting fro
m him, but it wasn’t that. He’s kissed me once on the cheek, but what was that for? Is what his brother said really true? Is Félix the type who doesn’t get infatuated with women often?
“Here’s your drink,” Félix’s voice causes me to turn around and I take the glass from his hand. “I propose a toast, to new beginnings, especially for those who didn’t start off on the right foot.” He stares deep into my eyes and for the first time since knowing him, I believe what he’s saying, I hear the sincerity in his voice.
We both toast and take a sip, though I don’t mistake the smirk he’s trying to hide behind his glass. The fact our glasses met for the toast shows I’m open to this now, that I’m letting my guard down and I’m certain it’s what he’s wanted . . . but like everything in life the situation between us is complicated at best.
My father traded me to wipe away his debt with Félix, yet the man has made it known I’m the equivalent of his wife. If it weren’t for his brother, I might not ever realize the way Félix is protecting me, and if I don’t ask him right now, I might never know why.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done to protect me, but I don’t understand why you’re doing it,” I speak up, putting myself out there.
He draws his brows together and sets his glass down on the table next to the couch. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Madelaine, when I see something I like, I go after it.”
For some reason his words cause my stomach to flip flop, something I haven’t felt since I was a young girl and I had a crush on Dominic Areli in my class. “And somehow I’m different than the rest?” I question, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, but you knew that already.” He chuckles lightly as he picks up his glass of bourbon and walks around the couch to take a seat. His eyes follow me as I too take a seat and he speaks up again, “I don’t know if it was the way Malcolm was carrying you in my office, or if it might’ve been that flaming red hair of yours. Maybe it was the tattoos, or the simplicity of the woman I knew was underneath that dress. It could’ve even been the fact your father is a sick man and I knew he was taking advantage of you. You see, my father was a man who did nefarious things like what your father did, bringing you to me and trading you for his sins . . . I don’t know what it was, Madelaine. But I do know I wanted you from that moment onward, and here I am right now, sitting in a room and telling you all this. In case you can’t tell, I’m not fond of sharing my feelings.”
“Not many men are.” I laugh, but then speak again, “How’d you know I was simplistic?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “A hunch I guess,” and takes another sip of his bourbon. Meanwhile, I bring the glass back to my mouth and take a good chug of it. Back in the day I was a huge partier, so I’ll take the liquor.
“Funny thing is, I was wearing a KISS tank top and a pair of shorts when I met him for dinner that night. I’m as simplistic as a woman can get, I think.”
He smirks and nods, and while his eyes linger on me, I can tell he’s agreeing with my statement. “I have a feeling you are.” He clears his throat and tears his eyes away from mine, stands up and finishes his glass. “Allow me to apologize for my actions. It was never my intention to make you feel like a prisoner here, even if I acted poorly. Locking you in that room wasn’t something I wanted to do, Madelaine. It was because I heard of two slumlords who ordered your death, two men who I know would’ve gone to any costs to make sure the only way your father paid them back was with your blood. So, you see, maybe I was wrong in not telling you about the dangers . . . I didn’t want to scare you.”
“So, instead you wanted me to hate you?” I question, turning to look at Félix, who’s pouring himself another glass. He sets the bottle of bourbon back down and hands me the glass, then grabs my glass and fills it back up, though this time I notice the liquor is almost at the rim.
Normally drinking after a man would make me a bit nervous, but I’ve been to raves here in New Orleans. There isn’t any sort of germ that could kill me, not after the little blue pills I’ve taken at the bottom of purses at those parties. Thank goodness I’m no longer in that stage of life.
I chug down the rest of my bourbon, allowing it to burn down my throat and settle deep in my stomach. Félix shakes his head and laughs loudly. “I didn’t want you to hate me, bombe.”
Narrowing my eyes in on his, I speak up, “What is that word, bomb-e-uh?” I try to pronounce it, though I shouldn’t have. I’m not fluent in French and it’s obvious to me Félix is.
“Bombe, it means bomb. I call you it because you’re explosive, Madelaine. You’re so fucking explosive,” Félix mutters with a deep, masculine voice. It’s a bit gritty, enough to cause my core to completely shatter. He finishes off his drink and sets it down on the table beside the couch, and I set my glass there as well.
His blue eyes stare down at me and my heart begins beating rapidly in my chest. I don’t know why he’s evoking such a physical reaction from me, but he is, and I like it. It feels dangerous and my body’s curious . . . needing to know what it would feel like to be entrapped around this man.
“Don’t keep looking at me, bombe, otherwise I won’t be able to hold myself back,” he warns through gritted teeth, tearing his eyes away from mine, he faces the wall and I know he’s adjusting his manhood. I rise from the couch and kick off my shoes, walk to him, and graze my hand over his trousers.
They’re soft, yet sturdy . . . giving me an inclination at the cost. Though, I’m not paying much attention to the way his pants feel, instead I’m paying close attention to what’s throbbing below it. Félix groans as I make myself comfortable, teasing and taunting him. I try to close my hand around his shaft, and he moans in pleasure before turning around and grabbing my hands firmly. “If you don’t want me to fuck you, you need to stop now,” he snarls, his tone a warning of what’s to come.
Félix releases my hands and I hook my thumbs under my shirt, toss it onto the floor, and unclasp my bra. Slowly I remove it, then throw it over where my shirt is and look up into his eyes. He licks his bottom lip hastily. “I want you to fuck me, Félix, and I want to fuck you.” Desire spills out from my voice and I put my hand over his cock again, rubbing my palm against his shaft through the fabric of his jeans.
“Fucking hell, you’ll be the death of me,” Félix grits, kicking off his own shoes he then goes for his pants and unbuckles his belt, shoves them down, and I help him make quick work of his dress shirt. What lies underneath is astonishing. Not only the fact he’s tattooed as well, but his physique is . . . panty melting.
His cock pops out the slit in his boxers and I do a double take. He’s fucking pierced, and with a pleased smile I look up at him. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea, bombe, no fucking idea,” he grits, grabbing me by my throat, he backs me up against the wall and licks his lips. “Take those shorts off.”
His tone is authoritative and I do as he says, unbuttoning the top, I unzip my fly and shimmy out of them, taking the thong off with it. Félix dips his fingers through my center, smearing my wetness around and brings his mouth to my ear, just as he pinches my clit he whispers, “It’s taking everything in me not to defile your pussy right now.” He pulls his face back in front of mine, looking right at me.
I look up into his eyes, more confident than I’ve ever been in his presence. “I don’t want you to defile me, Félix. I want you to degrade me.”
A smile pulls at his lips. “So, you want to be my little cumslut, bombe?”
I grab onto his cock and begin tightening my grip around his shaft. “I think you have your answer, Félix, so degrade me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Félix
Waking up with a warm feminine body is something I’ve never experienced, and I find I enjoy having Madelaine’s naked body pressed up against mine. I glance at the clock on the nightstand to find it’s well past the time I’ve been getting up lately. And ironically, I slept better than I have in a long damn time.
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I run the tips of my fingers along the spine of Madelaine’s back, her head is resting on my chest as she continues to sleep. I have my free arm bent with my hand under my head. Somehow, I’d been able to scoot up just enough to rest my head against my padded headboard.
My thoughts run through my head as I debate about how I’m going to handle things with Madelaine and her father. I don’t want to upset her or be the cause of her hurting over a man who has no compassion for her or concern for her well-being. Who has been nothing but a nuisance in her life. He needs to be dealt with and I’m going to put him down like the dog he is. I’m not going to tell Madelaine about it and my decision is final where that’s concerned. I want her to think I’m going to help him. If she thinks I’ve offered him help and got him into a facility that specializes in different types of addiction, then he disappears, she can wash her hands of him.
“If you keep doing that, I’m never letting you get up,” Madelaine rasps, her voice seductive as hell and it goes straight to my cock.
“Who says I want to get up, bombe?” I chuckle. “I should rephrase, who says I’m not already up,” I say, emphasizing my cock tenting the sheet resting over my waist.
Madelaine lifts her head off my chest and meets my gaze with her mischievous smirk. I groan when I feel the warmth of her hand wrap around my shaft and begin stroking slowly. Fuck, it reminds me of last night. I’ve never met a woman who could keep up with me, let alone tire me out. I slide my fingers up to her head entwining my fingers in her hair. My woman presses her lips to my chest and lowers herself down until she’s eye level with my cock.
“Suck my cock, bombe. I want you to be the cumslut we both know you are and take every last drop,” I command, wanting to feel her lips wrapped around me. I want nothing more than to have her tongue skirting around the head of my cock, and her wet mouth bobbing up and down, taking me to the back of her throat. The day I looked up her OneEye account I saw one of her videos where she took a dildo and was able to take it to the back of her throat. I’m sure if she could take that, Madelaine can take all of me.
Degrade: A Dark Mafia Romance (DeLancy Crime Family Book 1) Page 7