by Penelope Sky
Fingers rubbed against my clit, and I felt my knees fall away because it felt so good. I hadn’t been touched like that in forever. Bones just shoved himself inside me harshly, only taking pleasure and never giving it. I must be touching myself without realizing it, but I was aware of my hands on the mattress. I could feel the cool satin underneath my skin.
Alarm shot through me when I realized this wasn’t a dream. This was real. My eyes opened, and I saw Crow’s face pressed to mine as he continued kissing me. He was naked on top of me, his hard cock pressed into my stomach.
“Get off.” I shoved him harshly in the chest.
He recoiled back, but his fingers stayed between my legs. “You liked it a second ago.”
“Because I was asleep, you idiot.” I slapped his hand away.
“Yeah?” He leaned back on the balls of his feet, his glorious body looking just as good as I remembered. His thick cock hung out, proud and hard. “And who were you dreaming about?”
Did he know? That wasn’t possible. He might be able to read my expressions, but he couldn’t read my mind. “I wasn’t dreaming about anyone. And that doesn’t matter. Don’t touch me.”
His lips fell in a slight smile, like I just challenged him. He moved back on top of me and pinned both of my arms up with a single hand. He kept my wrists bound together and returned his body to mine.
I struggled against him, but he was too heavy. He was all muscle and strength, twice my size and a million times stronger.
“Fight me, and I’ll hurt you.” He squeezed my wrists tightly together, warning me.
“I’ll fight you until you kill me.”
Now he smiled completely, loving that response. “Baby, you’re sexy.”
“You’re into some sick shit.” I bucked my hips against him.
“Right now, I’m just into you.” He leaned down and kissed the skin of my neck. His tongue ran along the area where my artery was located, and he nipped me gently, just enough pressure to make it tingle but not make it bleed. His lips traveled to my ear, and he kissed the shell gently, breathing into my canal. His arousal was heightened in his breathing, and I could hear the distant growl.
His free hand moved to my chest and palmed one tit, squeezing and massaging. He released a quiet moan into my ear. “Beautiful tits.”
I lay there helplessly, unable to do anything but let him take me. My nipples hardened at his touch, and I felt my breath hitch. I didn’t feel scared like last time. My heart didn’t drum like it was life or death. My body was oddly relaxed, oddly charged.
Crow kissed my collarbone before he gently bit it between his teeth. Then his mouth moved to my other tit, and he sucked it hard, making me wince in pain. He nibbled it gently before he sucked again, his back tightening in arousal.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop him this time. If I said no, he would just keep going. If I tried to fight, I would get slapped across the face—probably worse.
He licked the valley between my breasts then kissed my stomach, kissing every inch of me while his cock lay against my belly. It oozed with pre-come, ready to be inside me.
He moved back up to my face then returned his fingers against my clit. He rubbed the nub in a circular motion, hitting it with the right pressure and the right speed like he’d done it a million times.
It felt good.
And I hated that. I hated the way my knees naturally parted to accommodate him. I hated the fact I wanted him to suck my nipples again. I hated the fact his kiss felt so incredible.
He looked into my eyes and watched my expression, his face darkening with sexual need. His fingers worked me aggressively, firing off arousal to the rest of my body.
“Stop.”
Two fingers moved to my entrance while his thumb stayed behind.
“No.” I locked my knees so he couldn’t get inside me. I didn’t want him to feel. I didn’t want him to know what lay between my legs.
He jerked my knees open with his thigh then inserted two fingers.
No.
The instant he was inside me, he froze in place. He felt the moisture that accumulated there. He felt just how wet I was—how soaked I was.
Shame slammed through me in waves, and I was mortified. My body betrayed me, and I was embarrassed by how easily it gave me away. I was wetter than I’d been in a long time. My body woke up from its hibernation, and it was desperate for relief.
Crow wore a victorious expression. His arrogance increased tenfold. His fingers moved inside me while his thumb massaged my clitoris. He curved his fingers so he could hit the sensitive tissue, eliciting waves of pleasure that made my tits harden further. “You’re soaked.”
“From my dream...” I fumbled for an explanation, not wanting him to assume he was responsible for what happened.
“You were dreaming about me.” He said it with pure conviction, like there was no possibility for an alternative answer. “You said my name.”
Goddammit.
He continued to slide his fingers in and out, working my clitoris at the same time. He pressed harder and moved faster, making my body betray me even more by pushing me toward an orgasm.
I didn’t think I could even have one.
He slowly pulled his fingers out then inserted them into his mouth. He sucked my juice off before he grabbed the base of his cock and pointed at my entrance. “No need for you to suck me off when you’re this wet.” He pressed his head against my entrance.
My arousal died when I realized what was about to happen. Maybe I was attracted to him and maybe he did turn me on, but I still didn’t want to be raped. I still didn’t want to be a prisoner. I wanted my life back. “No, stop. Please.”
He pushed his head inside slightly, stretching me apart.
“Stop. Please. I’ll do anything.” Tears fell from my eyes in waves. I hated crying because it was weak, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was tired of being used over and over again. I was tired of not having a voice. I was tired of everything. “Crow, please.”
The sound of his name broke through the sexual fog in his mind. He heard my plea and looked into my face, the head of his dick still partially inside me. The fight raged on behind his eyes. He wanted to keep going because his dick wanted to get wet, but my tears meant something to him.
“Please...” I pulled my hands away from their hold, relieved I had the freedom to move. I pressed them against his chest and ran my palms up and down, feeling the hard muscles of his body. I was coaxing him into cooperating, appealing to his good nature. He wasn’t evil like his brother. He had some good in him. “Don’t do this to me.”
The fog lifted completely, and he pulled his cock away from my entrance.
Gratitude washed over me in waves. I’d never been so grateful for anything in my life. I had some control over my destiny. I had some control over what happened to me. My pussy got wet for him, as embarrassing as that was, but he still didn’t do it. He could justify it by saying I wanted it, but he didn’t.
He moved off of me and sat at the edge of the bed. His sweat pants and boxers were on the ground, and he scooped them into his hands. His defined back was chiseled, obvious even in the limited light of the bedroom.
I shouldn’t feel anything good for this man, but I did. I didn’t see him in the same way I saw the others. He may be rough around the edges, but he was honorable underneath all of that callousness.
I moved to his side of the bed and cupped his face. His five o’clock shadow rubbed against my fingertips as I felt him. I loved the feel of his stern jaw. It was rigid and strong, directly counteracting the soft beauty of his eyes.
He turned his face toward mine, watching every move I made. His wide chest expanded with the quiet breaths he took. He glanced at my lips before he returned his gaze to my eyes.
Without thinking, I leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. I kissed the corner of his mouth before I felt his upper lip. His thin lips were delicious against my tongue, and I loved the feel of his mouth. I never thought I c
ould enjoy kissing anyone after what I’d been through.
But I loved kissing him.
The area between my legs was still wet, and his cock was still hard. I didn’t want to invite him back to bed, so I ended the embrace before I changed his mind. When he looked at me with those intense eyes, I dropped my gaze. “Thank you...” He could do whatever he wanted to me, and I had no say in the matter. But he let me go. He listened to me. He treated me more like a person than anyone else. The night could have gone quite differently. But he gave me a choice. He gave me freedom.
He gave me a voice.
Chapter Nineteen
Crow
The fire roared in my office even though it was a warm day. I liked the sound of the crackling flames inside the hearth. It was my form of music, the natural sound of dancing fire.
I kept my mind fixated on work, but that brunette kept weaving her way into my thoughts. Last night, I had her underneath me. She was naked. I was naked. My cock was harder than it’d ever been, and I wanted to ram myself inside her slick pussy.
She liked my kisses. She liked my touch. Her soaked pussy said she liked the way my fingers rubbed her clit. It liked the way I sucked her nipples until they were raw. It liked the way I clenched my teeth against her collarbone, bringing her a little pain in the midst of pleasure.
There was no mistaking her body language—she loved everything.
But she still said no.
I should have kept going. I shouldn’t let this tiny woman tell me what to do. But when she pleaded with me, begged me to stop, I automatically obeyed.
I couldn’t believe it. I actually obeyed someone.
I wanted to cause her pain because it got me so hard. But I wanted her to want to be in pain. I wanted her to like it. And the despair she showed me last night wasn’t what I craved. It was different. I couldn’t explain how.
A knock sounded on my door. I recognized it because I heard it so many times. All my life, I’d been listening to those rattling knuckles.
“Come in.”
Lars walked inside with a black folder under his arm. “A man dropped this off for you. He said you would know what it was about.” He placed it on the end of my desk. “Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”
“Yes. How is she?”
There was only one other person in the house I could be referring to. “I haven’t seen her, sir. She had breakfast and left her tray outside.”
She ate something. That was all I needed to know. “Thank you, Lars.”
He nodded before he walked out.
I opened the folder the moment the door was shut. I hired a guy to get intel on my houseguest. I wanted to know everything about her without asking any questions. I wanted her to know I was God—and I knew everything.
I flipped through the pages and discovered her name.
Pearl.
I loved it. I loved how pure it was. I loved how beautiful it was.
I skimmed more information and found out how she’d become trafficked. She was in St. Thomas when it happened, accompanied by her boyfriend. The idea of her being with someone before me, voluntarily, sent me into a rage of jealousy. I continued reading on so the ferocity would disintegrate. I just got to a piece of information that made it even worse. I reread the words because I couldn’t believe what I saw. My hands shook I was so angry. My hatred nearly matched what I felt for Bones for mutilating my sister—almost.
A knock sounded on the door, interrupting my rampage. It wasn’t Lars, I knew that much. And that meant it was only one other person—Pearl.
She opened the door without being invited and stood there awkwardly, waiting for permission that she wouldn’t get.
I closed the folder and left it on my desk. She caught me at a bad time. If she were anyone else, they would take off as quickly as possible. Even Lars would leave, understanding my rage better than most people.
She entered my office and eyed the fireplace against the opposite wall. She wore one of the Tuscan dresses Lars picked out for her. It looked perfect on her, like she was born and raised on the beautiful hillside. “Are you busy?”
Her beauty wasn’t enough to distract me. “I’m always busy.”
Her eyes showed her disappointment, expecting the same gentle man she saw the night before. He wasn’t constant. He came and went—gone more often than present. “I was hoping we could talk. It can wait until later if that’s more convenient for you.”
“Or we could not talk at all. That’s the most convenient option.” I hated myself for going soft on her. I hated myself for being anything but ruthless. I had revenge to plot, and I was dropping the ball.
She stared at me in bewilderment, having no idea what triggered this anger. “Did I do something?”
“You’re talking. That’s what you did.”
Her eyes fell in sadness, the fight inside her gone. “I just wanted to say thank you for—”
“You already did. Now go.” I just wanted her out of my office so I could soak in my rage peacefully—and alone.
“You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for. I just want you to know that.”
“Don’t care.” Just leave.
Her fire roared to life when she became fed up with my hostility. “What’s your problem? I’m in here giving you a compliment and respect, and you’re being a bitch-ass.”
Both of my eyebrows rose when I heard what she said. “Bitch-ass?”
“Yes. That’s exactly how you’re acting.”
When she told me off, it just made me hard. I wanted her to slap me across the face then kiss me on the lips. I rose to my feet and walked around the desk, feeling anger course through my veins—a different kind of anger than I felt before.
She didn’t flinch at my approach, assuming she was safe with me after last night.
I grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back aggressively, exposing her lips for my mouth to take. I kissed her hard, practically bruising her lips. My arm circled her waist, and I pulled her flush against me, wanting her to understand just how much my cock wanted to fuck her small cunt.
Her lips were unresponsive at first, but she kissed me back a moment later, moving her lips with the same aggression and hostility. Our teeth rubbed together by mistake, but I liked it. She did too. Her arm hooked around my neck, and she dragged her nails into my skin.
My hand gave her ass a firm squeeze before I pulled away. “Talk to me like that again, and see what happens.”
“I don’t get you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I came in here to tell you—”
“You came in here to manipulate me. You think I’m wrapped around your finger because I won’t strike you or rape you. You’ve completely misinterpreted me. I’m the kind of man who will still bury you in my fields. I’m the kind of man who will kill innocent people just because they’re standing in my way. You can’t come in here dressed up and expect me to fall to your knees. The only person who will be falling to your knees is you.” My hands moved to her waist, and I squeezed her so tightly she tried to pull away. “I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever. The only escape you’ll find from this place is when I kill you. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes lacked any fear. She stared at me in disbelief, not believing a word I said. She shoved my hands off her body, fighting for dominion over the argument. “You won’t hurt me. You won’t kill me.”
“You’re stupid, you know that?” I hated it when she stood up to me. But I fucking loved it at the same time.
“When Cane comes by and demands you put a bullet in my head, you won’t do it. When he wants to pull the trigger himself, you’ll take the bullet for me. You aren’t fooling anyone, Crow. You’re a good person—”
I slapped her across the face. I didn’t use much force because the collision of my hand against her cheek would be enough to shut her the fuck up. “Don’t talk about me like you know me. You don’t know anything about me. I will strangle you with my ba
re hands and watch the light leave your eyes. Stop rewriting my story. Stop trying to change who I am.”
She turned with the hit and cupped her cheek, feeling the sting of the slap long after the collision ended. She kept her back to me, recovering from the shock of what I just did.
“I’ll do it again.” And I meant that.
She turned around, her hand still on her cheek. Instead of tears in her eyes, there was just surprise. She truly didn’t expect me to lay a hand on her, like a goddamn idiot. With the speed of a viper, she slapped her hand across my face—as hard as she could.
My face turned with her hand, and I felt the redness flush my cheeks. It didn’t hurt, not in a painful way. It set my nerves on fire, bringing forth the beast deep inside me. My cock was hard in my trousers, and my mouth ached for hers. I wanted to twist her nipples until she screamed.
I turned back to her, my nostrils flaring. I wanted to bend her over my desk and fuck her right then and there. No woman had ever slapped me before—unless I commanded her to. This woman had a razor-sharp edge I wanted to cut myself on. She had a spine harder than most of my men. She had a fierceness that rivaled my own. I’d never been so fucking hard in my life.
She pointed her finger in my face. “Touch me like that again, and see what happens.”
Now she was just baiting me. “If you don’t want to be spanked and fucked against my desk, you better walk out right now.” My shoulders were tense, and my hand started to shake. The beast inside me was tearing through my restraints. My blood screamed for hers.
She turned around and headed to the door—making a wise decision. But she stopped when she noticed the paintings on my wall. There were at least twenty in the room, all made by the same hand. Some were more unique than others, created mostly out of buttons.
Like she forgot about our argument altogether, she stared at them. Her eyes focused on one in particular. The hills of the valley were in the distance, painted with watercolors. The vineyards receded into the background, and each row was created from an array of buttons. The art was unusual but beautiful with its originality.
She turned back to me, her lips parted to ask about the paintings on the wall. But when she saw the livid look on my face, the desire for blood still in my eyes, she thought better of it. She walked out the door without a backward glance, saving herself from a rough fuck that would leave her so sore she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.