by Penelope Sky
“Five. The number is non-negotiable.”
I knew ten was a steep push. Flogging her cost twenty buttons, and it would be ludicrous to charge ten just for having dinner with her. “I have a few questions.”
“I’m listening.”
“What do you get out of that?” She spent plenty of time with me. In fact, we had dinner together nearly every night. Then I fucked her into the mattress every night. Her lips were always kissed with my mouth. Why waste money on this?
“I get a lot of out of it, actually.”
I still didn’t see the benefit. Then it hit me right in the face. “You want me to take you to a city so you can run.” I was stupid for not reaching that conclusion right off the bat. “Not gonna work.”
“I’m not going to run.”
“Really? I thought we didn’t lie to each other.”
She leaned over the table, staring me down. “There’s no point in me running. I have no money and no papers to get on an international flight. The only way I can ever go home is if you help me.”
I couldn’t argue with that reasoning. “You could go to the embassy.”
“I have no idea where it is. And I don’t want to take my chances searching for it when Bones could spot me. I would much rather stay here with you than return to that psycho.”
My suspicion faded away. “I still don’t understand.”
“You’re my only friend, Crow. I like being with you even when we aren’t fucking. I just want more from you. I need affection. I need attention. I need something.”
Since she was a woman, I tried to understand her needs. She’d been cooped up in the house for months. Our conversations were minimal. We spent most of our time screwing. There wasn’t much more to it.
“And the reason doesn’t matter. I still don’t completely understand why you enjoy hurting me so much. Why your cock is so thick inside me after you whip me. But I don’t ask because it doesn’t make a difference. This is what I want. Take my buttons and give it to me. Or don’t.”
When she laid it on thick like that, I couldn’t object. She was right. Whatever her reason was, it didn’t matter. I either wanted her buttons or I didn’t. “I agree to your terms.”
“Thank you.”
The more buttons I took from her, the less she would have.
And she would be mine forever.
***
Lars greeted me at the entrance. “Sir, do you have any preferences for dinner tonight?”
“No. I’m going out.”
“Out?” I was a well-known recluse that preferred solitude. It was very rare for me to eat dinner outside the house. And Lars couldn’t hide his surprise at the statement.
“Yeah. Button and I are going out.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” He gave me a quick nod before he returned to the kitchen, probably to tell the cooks they had the evening off.
I walked to her bedroom on the second floor and tapped my knuckles against the door.
“Come in.”
No matter how many times I knocked, I never got used to it. I wanted to barge in because I owned her. But she would give me hell if I did. I stepped inside still wearing my suit.
She stood at the window, looking across the fields.
I knew she loved the view because the window was always open. Whenever the alarm was set for the night, I had to disregard that window. I could never tell her to shut it. She would give her two cents on the matter. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
She finally turned her gaze on me, her interest non-existent. “Sure.”
I should have phrased my question better. “Would you like to have dinner with me in Tuscany? I thought we could go wine tasting afterward.”
Her eyes immediately filled with light, her excitement undeniable. She abandoned the window and gave me her full attention. That joy in her eyes was something I’d never seen before. She never looked at me like that. The only expressions I received from her were disdain and lust—with the exception of when she cried in vigilance of my sorrow.
I tried to block it out.
“I would love to.” She placed her hands tightly together in front of her chest. “When?”
“As soon as you get ready.”
“I’ll need twenty minutes.”
I extended my palm, my fingers stretched outward.
When she eyed it, the happiness in her eyes dulled. She retrieved the five buttons from the jar and dropped them onto my extended hand. Then she crossed her arms and waited for me to leave.
I pocketed them and walked out, knowing I’d fucked up the mood.
She met me at foyer half an hour later. She came down the stairs in a skin-tight black dress. It was simple, hugging her hips and waist and showing a good amount of cleavage. A golden necklace hung from her throat, something Lars picked out for her.
I eyed her as she made her entrance and noted the soft curls of her hair. It was pulled over one shoulder and long, trailing past her chest. Her makeup was heavier than she normally wore. Her eyes were dark, sexy.
She looked fuckable.
She watched my reaction as she approached me. She tried to read my expression like she always did. She hated the fact I understood her so well but she didn’t truly understand me.
But she didn’t need to bother. I gave her answers when she didn’t ask—sometimes. “Button, you’re perfect.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to my side, loving the feel of her perfect tits against my chest. When we finished our evening, I would fuck her hard into the mattress and come all over those gorgeous tits.
“Thanks. You look handsome too.” She ran her hand up my chest, feeling my gray collared shirt. The top button was open and her fingers touched my bare skin at the gap.
Maybe I would fuck her in the car.
“Let’s go.” The sooner we got this over with, the sooner we would be home. And I would be between her legs, moving through her slickness, just where I belonged.
***
I drove my special edition Audi through the hills as we headed to town. I preferred the glorious landscapes with the wide open spaces. I loved the smell of the olive trees. Summer or winter, Tuscany was beautiful. I’d traveled to many different places but nothing was as remarkable as this country.
Her eyes were focused out the window as I drove, treasuring the false feeling of freedom. She’d been locked up in two different houses since she’d been kidnapped. This was the most alive she must have felt for a long time.
I knew she wouldn’t run. The thought didn’t enter my mind after we discussed it. I didn’t bother bringing my gun because I wasn’t concerned. There was always a pistol in the car but it wasn’t loaded.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful place...” Her eyes followed the hills as we moved.
“Because you haven’t.”
She turned back to me, her eyes pretty. Her lashes were long and extended, and her lipstick was ruby red.
I pictured the color smeared around the base of my cock.
Her hand moved to the gearshift where mind rested, and I immediately grew suspicious of her actions. Was she trying to take over the car? She was a fighter so it wouldn’t surprise me. Instead, she placed her hand on mine.
I eyed it, unsure what she was doing.
She looked out the window again, her hand finding comfort on top of mine.
Normally, I would pull away. I wasn’t an affectionate man. Unless things led to sex, I wasn’t interested. But she told me what she wanted and paid for it. If she could be whipped and spanked, then I could do this.
I could give this to her.
I turned my hand and interlocked our fingers together, holding her like a lover.
She eyed our joined hands but didn’t react. A minute passed before she looked out the window again, her hand still tucked into mine. Soon, her thumb brushed across my knuckles, feeling the hard and calloused skin.
The touch soothed me. But that realization made my body tense
in irritation. Affection was hard for me to give and even harder for me to receive. It burned in my blood and turned me into a hateful person.
But I could do it.
I’d done unspeakable things to her and she played her part. If this what she wanted, if this was her fantasy, I could do it. She needed to be my slave for as long as possible.
And holding her hand would make that happen.
***
She sat across from me at the dinner table and stared at the menu. Her eyes scanned back and forth before she pulled out a folded piece of paper from her clutch. She glanced through it before she turned back to the menu.
I eyed her in interest. “Button, what are you doing?”
“Deciphering the menu. The whole thing is in Italian.”
I gestured for her to put it down.
“No,” she said quickly. “I want to figure it out on my own.” She waved me off and kept using her notes to figure out what she wanted to order. “I really don’t want to end up ordering snails.”
The corner of my lip upturned in a smile. “That’s French, not Italian.”
“Oh...I still don’t want anything like that.” She ran her fingers through her hair absentmindedly, and she had no idea how sexy she looked as she did it. Diamonds flashed in her ears, sparkling by candlelight.
She was the most gorgeous woman in the room, no competition. In fact, she was the most beautiful woman in every room I walked into. When I first laid eyes on her, I didn’t find her impressive. I’d been with a long line of beautiful and exotic women. But I felt differently now. I noticed the small freckles on her cheeks when she didn’t wear makeup. I noticed the way one side of her mouth would lift slightly higher than the opposite side when she smiled. I noticed how long and lean her perfect legs were. Every scar attested to her strength, making her invincible. And even when she cried with blotchy cheeks and red eyes...she looked stunning.
I’d never been more obsessed in my life.
Her spirit attracted me like a moth to a flame. Even when she fell into a depression, she was still stronger than I’d ever been. She looked fear in the eye without blinking. She stood up for herself because she understood no one else would. She made a life for herself, starting with nothing and becoming an independent and powerful woman.
She deserved my respect.
And she had it.
“Okay, I think I know what I want.” She folded up the paper and returned it to her clutch.
I didn’t realize how far my mind had drifted. I sat there for five minutes and pointed out every quality she possessed. My internal thoughts were raging when I normally didn’t think about anything at all. “And what did you decide on?”
“The lasagna.”
My chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle. “It won’t be anything like that American shit you’re used to.”
“Now I can compare.”
“How about wine?” I handed the drink menu across the table.
She brushed it away. “I’m not ashamed to admit I know nothing about wine. You’re the expert.”
I set it on top of the menu. “What do you like? Red or white?”
Her fingers moved to her hair again, pulling a strand free of her ear. “I’m not sure. What we have at the estate is good. Like I said, you’re the expert here.” She never yielded the floor to me. And she never let me make decisions on her behalf.
I’d tamed her, in a way. “Then leave it to me.”
The waitress approached our table and flashed her mocha eyes in my direction. She probably recognized me from the vineyard. I wasn’t a celebrity by any means, but Tuscans knew their wine—and where it came from.
She exchanged a few pleasantries with me in Italian, ignoring my date for a few minutes too long.
I quickly redirected the conversation to the food. In Italian, I ordered for both of us and handed the menus over.
She gave a false smile, hiding the hurt from my rejection.
When we were alone again, I watched Button across the table. A hint of irritation was in her eyes, but she hid most of her unease.
“She was just asking me about my vineyard.”
“I thought we didn’t lie to each other.” Her voice turned ice-cold, putting me right on the spot.
How did she know?
“I can understand a little bit of Italian. And she was coming on to you, assuming I was a stupid American who couldn’t figure out what you were saying. Are all Italians that disrespectful?”
The fire in her voice made my cock come to life in my trousers. Hearing her anger and possessiveness was a turn on—even though it should’ve irritated me. “I’m going home with you tonight. So let it go.”
“Still annoying...” She grabbed a piece of bread from the basket and tore off a few pieces before she popped them into her mouth.
I didn’t go out to dinner very often. The only time I did was when I was seeing someone or I had a meeting. While I loved the food, I preferred the meals Lars prepared—because there was no social interaction required.
“Do you date?” She looked down at her hands and pulled the bread apart.
“Right now?”
“No. Before me.”
I didn’t want to be asked these kinds of questions but I assumed it was part of the agreement. If she didn’t ask anything, there wouldn’t be much to talk about. I was fine with the silence but she wasn’t. “I have relationships...here and there.”
“So, you don’t beat them like you do with me?”
“No, I do.” That was the best part of the relationship. When they trusted me, they allowed me to do the darkest things to them. They came to adore it and wanted more.
“Have you ever been with a woman without resorting to that?”
“A few.” We would hook up a few times, but I was never satisfied. I needed violence to get off and satiate my appetite. “But they don’t last long.”
“Do you ever want to get married? Have children?”
“No.” The answer came out harsh, offended she asked the question at all. In my line of work, I couldn’t care for anyone. I couldn’t have a wife and a family. I would always be a target until the end of my days. If someone wanted to cross me, all they’d have to do is take someone I loved.
And I couldn’t lose anyone else.
Button understood she crossed a line with her question and backed off. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“Then don’t.”
“I was just curious. No ill intention.”
“Do you want to get married someday?”
“No.” She said just as quickly as I did.
That surprised me. Since she wanted to have a date, I assumed she still believed in romance. Maybe I was wrong. “May I ask why?”
“I don’t trust anyone. And I never will again.” She finished the slice of bread then picked up another.
I didn’t touch the basket. I wasn’t a big fan of bread.
“You shouldn’t let him ruin your future.” Not all men would have done something so sadistic. I was a criminal, a murderer, and a thief. But even I wouldn’t have done that. “You will find someone who truly cares for you.”
“Even so, my ability to trust is gone. It’ll never come back.”
“All things come back—in time.”
She shook her head. “When you’ve seen what I’ve seen, that’s not possible. I’ve seen how foul men really are. I’ve seen how their cocks control their every move. I’ve seen the real side to people—and men are all the same.”
I wanted to argue that point but I couldn’t. I was one of the most evil men I’d ever encountered. I may not have raped her but that didn’t make me a good person. I was still accepting a bribe to get her to open her legs. I wasn’t any better. “I’m sorry this experience has made you lose your faith.”
“It hasn’t. It’s only opened my eyes.”
The waitress returned with our meals and placed them between us. She only had eyes for me and ignored Button, probably assuming she was a collea
gue or client, not my sex slave.
Button stared at her hard, silently threatening her.
She poured the wine then disappeared—thankfully.
When she was gone, Button’s sour mood faded.
“You’re the jealous type?”
“I’m not jealous.” She cut into her lasagna. “I don’t like it when people write me off as insignificant.”
“She probably thinks you’re a client.”
“Well, I’m not.” She took a few bites, still tense.
She never wanted to get married and she didn’t trust anyone, but yet, she was jealous. It didn’t add up. But then again, if I saw a man go anywhere near her I’d stab a knife through his chest. It had nothing to do with love. It was all about possession. “Now she’ll know.” I slid my hand across the table and grabbed hers. I interlocked our fingers together and continued eating.
Her fingers immediately responded to mine. They shifted against my skin until they clung to me tightly. She eyed our combined hands, her anger immediately gone when the affection arrived.
***
We sat at a table near the window and enjoyed appetizers and the different wines we sampled. I’d already tried every kind of wine in my vicinity. I knew what I produced and I understand what my competitors made. The experience was anti-climatic.
But Button enjoyed it.
She sampled each wine after she stirred the glass like a professional. “I like this one.”
“It’s one of mine.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“How many kinds of wines do you produce?”
That was a loaded question. “Of the top of my head...at least a hundred.”
“Wow. Have you always been interested in wine?”
“I suppose. But I’ve always been interested in hard liquor as well.”
“Did you start the winery on your own?”
I nodded.
She rested her wrists on the edge of the table, her toned arms sexy. Her hair had fallen to both shoulders because she stopped touching, and it framed her face like she was about to step into a photo shoot. The dress covered the scars on her back and ass but I knew they were there. “How did you accomplish that?”
My mind was pulled from the small scars across her ass. “I’ve been in the weapon business for a long time. I had a falling out with my father and set out to open my own business. I was tired of being bossed around. I was tired of living in his shadow. So I took my cut and opened the winery. Within a few years, it was a success.”