“Get settled in,” he said. “I’m off to work now. No rest for the wicked.”
Kingsley pulled her away from the door, opened it and strolled into the hall whistling a song she thought might have been the French national anthem.
Charlie closed her eyes and imagined fire shooting out of her mouth and burning Kingsley to the ground. She must have actually audibly hissed because Kingsley stopped whistling long enough to call back to her.
“Patience, Charlie. We have all month.”
* * *
Charlotte spent the rest of the afternoon in the bedroom Kingsley had assigned to her, a bedroom nearly as luxurious as his own. His secretary came in and gathered information from her—emergency contacts, food preferences, even allergies.
“Allergies?” Charlotte had asked.
“Yes. Latex, for example?” Kingsley secretary answered with hardly a blink or a blush.
“Oh, God.”
An hour after returning from her apartment with a month’s worth of clothes and supplies, Charlotte tried to get some sleep but her mind wanted to wander down far too many dangerous paths. Kingsley Edge... The one and only Kingsley Edge. She finally worked up the courage to call her younger brother and let him know a little of what was going on.
Simon sighed heavily, so heavily Charlotte nearly laughed aloud.
“You sure about this, Char?” Simon asked.
“I like him.”
“Do you like him because he rich and infamous or because you actually like him?”
Charlotte thought about the question, a perfectly valid one, for a few seconds before answering.
“Yes.”
After getting Simon’s blessing, or at least his promise to not call the police, Charlotte hung up and stared around the room still not quite believing she’d be spending the next month here. What would Kingsley do with her during her stay? Part of her was terrified at the prospect. Another much bigger part of her couldn’t wait to find out.
Charlotte started as an envelope slipped in under her door. She picked it up and found a hand-written invitation.
Charlie—Present yourself at my bedroom door this evening at nine o’clock. Wear your finest. We shall attend a piano recital in the Music Room. Do not be late. The consequences will be both severe and enjoyable if you are.
Charlotte corrected herself. Invitation? No, this was a summons. And although she knew she should bristle at the order to present herself on time or be punished, she almost wanted to be late simply to force Kingsley to make good on his threat.
For a solid hour, Charlotte stood before the bathroom mirror primping for the recital. She did her makeup quickly and spent the rest of the time curling her waist-length hair into thick red waves. The fanciest dress she had was a little black number. Hopefully the effect of her hair would distract Kingsley from the simplicity of the dress.
At nine on the dot, Charlotte stood outside Kingsley’s bedroom door waiting impatiently. She still barely knew the man. The more time that passed from their one long conversation this morning, the more she questioned her decision to stay with him for the month. This was crazy, right? Spending a month with a stranger? No one in her right mind would have agreed to his offer. Why was she doing this?
Kingsley opened the door.
Okay, that was why.
“Wow,” she said when all other words failed her.
He wore a black suit with silver buttons on the black-and-silver embroidered vest. His riding boots had been polished to a near-reflective shine and had she looked down she would have seen her wide-eyed face staring back at her.
“You approve?” Kingsley asked, a slight smile at the corner of his sensual lips.
Charlotte slowly nodded. “Um...yes. You look...damn.”
“And you, ma chérie, look enchanting.” Kingsley took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Utterly exquisite.” Raising her hand over her head, he spun her in a slow circle. “Parfait, Charlie.”
“Merci,” she said and curtsied. “The dress isn’t much. But it’s all I have that’s semiformal.”
Kingsley took her by the arm and they started down the hallway.
“It will look lovely on the floor by my bed.”
Charlotte blushed and laughed.
“Is there any particular reason why you dress like it’s the nineteenth century instead of the twenty-first?”
“There’s only one reason that matters,” he said as he escorted her down to the main level of his home. “Because I can.”
Still on his arm he led her to the Music Room. Kingsley introduced her to his guests. Most of men sat on the chairs and the love seats. But although there was enough room for all, a few of the women sat on the floor at the feet of the men they’d come with. One woman, almost forty and stunningly beautiful, took an imperious seat on a chair and snapped her fingers. Her date, a young man of about thirty, sat at her feet. Charlotte looked down at Kingsley. He had a wicked gleam in his eyes and watched her. She sank to the floor and leaned back against his knee. He ran a hand possessively through her hair. Now she knew why no one asked her who she was or how she’d met Kingsley. All his guests were part of his kinky little community.
Charlotte adjusted herself and found the floor was actually quite comfortable. The carpeting was thick and lush and Kingsley’s fingers in her hair and on her neck felt extraordinary—sensual and seductive and also relaxing. She could stay here all night.
A tall blond man entered to a smattering of applause and sat at the piano. Charlotte’s eyes widened when she saw he was dressed like a priest. A beautiful young woman with black hair followed him and sat on the floor next to the piano bench. Once the applause ceased, the man began to play. Charlotte sat entranced by the breathtakingly handsome pianist and the woman who rested so contentedly at his feet.
Kingsley leaned forward and put his mouth at her ear.
“I know he’s handsome as the devil, Charlie. And you’re welcome to look all you want. But don’t touch. That,” he said, inclining his head toward the piano playing priest and the young woman, “is a love match.”
“A love match?” she asked. “One of yours?”
“Oh, no. Destiny brought those two together. I had nothing to do with it. When destiny fails, that’s when I get called.”
“You should put that on your business cards,” she joked.
Kingsley reached into his pocket and handed her a black business card embossed with silver lettering. “Kingsley Edge, CEO, Edge Enterprises. When destiny fails...” it read.
She covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud as she looked up at Kingsley. He was smiling at her. But it wasn’t a normal smile of mirth or pleasure, but a smile that sent her body temperature shooting up a few degrees.
Charlotte turned away and tried to let the music calm her down. But it was such passionate music played so skillfully that Charlotte felt it wanted to seduce her as much as Kingsley. And both were succeeding. By the time the recital ended Charlotte was so desperate for Kingsley that she pretended to stumble when standing just so she could lean her full weight against him. He pulled her close to him, and she inhaled his scent. He smelled warm and masculine and every nerve in her body sat on edge at his nearness. When he bade his guests a swift goodbye and escorted her back upstairs, she was nearly shaking with eagerness. They stopped at the door to her room.
“So he’s really a priest?” she asked. “The pianist?”
“I told you I had a priest on speed dial. You really should learn to trust me.”
“I’m trying. This is all new.”
Kingsley laid his hand on her neck and rested his thumb at the hollow of her throat. “I will not hurt you, Charlie. Or, at least, I won’t harm you,” he said with a roguish grin. “Do you believe that? We won’t get very far until you know that at the moment you are most afraid of me, it is the moment you have the least reason to be.”
“Okay, I’ll try not be afraid.”
“You can be afraid all you want. Ju
Charlotte inhaled. For whatever reason, she did trust him.
“Good girl,” he said and took her hand. He kissed it slowly and let it go. “Good night, Charlie.”
She stared at him as he strode toward his own bedroom.
Stunned that he’d left her, Charlotte entered her bedroom on feet of lead. Hurt and embarrassed she considered gathering her things and getting out of this madhouse. He’d spent all evening seducing her with every glance, every touch and every smile. And now he just sauntered off to bed, leaving her alone in her room.
She took a deep breath and remembered his words—you really should learn to trust me. Maybe this was a test. Maybe he was seeing if she would get pissed and try to leave.
Charlotte kicked off her shoes and enjoyed the sound of them bouncing hollowly off the wall. She’d give this weird place one more day. But she couldn’t completely talk herself out of her disappointment and frustration. Kingsley knew she was more than ready and willing to go to bed with him. Maybe he got off on being a tease. Maybe when he finally did invite her to his room, she’d kiss his hand and walk off like he had.
In the bathroom she brushed her teeth and glanced at herself in the mirror. Kingsley called her beautiful but she never really thought she was. Pretty maybe, but not beautiful. But tonight with her hair flowing like red wine down her back, she knew she’d never looked better. But that hadn’t been good enough for him. Angry, she strode back into the bedroom.
Charlotte froze when she sensed something behind her. Suddenly she couldn’t move as two incredibly strong arms grabbed her and held her hard and fast in place with a hand covering her mouth. She threw all of her strength into her struggle to get loose but the harder she fought the harder he held her.
“Shh...” Kingsley’s mouth was at her ear again. “It’s only me.”
Knowing it was Kingsley didn’t do anything to calm her fears. She tried to pull away again but still he held her tight against him. She screamed against his hand. Barely a sound came out.
“Charlie, I know you’re afraid right now. You are allowed to be afraid. I want you to be afraid.” His voice was low and intimate. She pushed back against him, hoping to knock him off balance and get away. But he was too tall, too strong. She turned her head trying to scream, but his hand was a vise over her mouth. “In the lifestyle we all have a safe word. It’s the word you say when you want the game to stop. Your safe word is ‘dragon’ since you’re my little redheaded fire-breather. And the second I take my hand away you can say ‘dragon’ and I’ll let you go. Or... Or you can choose to not fear your fear. Vanilla sex is all about trust. Rape is all about fear. In that place between fear and trust is where we live. Trust me, Charlie. Don’t think that the fear means you have to stop.”
Charlotte closed her eyes. She wrenched herself to the side but still she couldn’t get free from him.
“I’m going to move my hand away from your mouth now. Say your safe word if you must. But before you do, ask yourself how you felt when I walked away from you tonight. Ask yourself how you will feel tomorrow if you walk away from me now.”
Charlotte panted against his palm. He slowly took his hand away from her mouth. She started to speak and then swallowed her words.
She heard Kingsley’s smug laugh at her ear. “I have good taste in women, don’t I?”
Charlie opened her mouth to argue but Kingsley pushed her hard and bent her over the bed. He took her arms and yanked them behind her back and held them pinned there. With one hand he held her wrists and with the other he reached underneath her dress. He ran his hand up the back of her thighs and slid it over her hips and into her panties.
“Your clit’s swollen and you’re soaking wet,” he said as he examined her. She clenched her jaw but was too humiliated to say anything. His fingers skimmed across the outside of her body. She flinched as he ripped her flimsy panties off her with a quick tear. Now naked underneath her dress there was nothing between him and her. Kingsley used his knees to push her legs wider apart. His hand came back to her and she groaned as he slid a single finger inside her.
“Since the moment I saw you breathing fire at my club last night,” Kingsley whispered as one finger became two, and two fingers turned to three inside her, “I knew I had to have you...to feel that fire inside you.”
He pulled his hand roughly out of her and she lay scared and panting against the sheets.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. Closing her eyes, she dug her hands into the sheets and tried to breathe through her fears.
“It’s adrenaline,” Kingsley said as he opened a drawer and pulled something out, something that sounded like metal. She gasped as he took her wrists again and yanked them behind her back. “What you’re feeling right now—it isn’t fear. You aren’t afraid of me. You’ve simply never been this excited before.”
“God, you’re arrogant,” Charlotte growled as Kingsley slapped cold metal handcuffs onto each of her wrists.
“I’m not arrogant. I’m French.” Kingsley forced her legs apart again as Charlotte tried to relax into the handcuffs. The weighty cold metal dug into her skin. She felt helpless, and hopeless. One word could get her out of this. All she had to do was say it and Kingsley would let her go. But she couldn’t say it. Even scared and humiliated she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, wanted this so much it scared her more than the handcuffs and the man who had taken possession of her body. “Now, Charlie, I’m going to put my cock in you in two seconds. If you have an objection to that, I would raise it right now.”
Charlotte said nothing as hot tears of shame welled up in her eyes.
“I thought as much,” he said and shoved inside her.
He was so big it almost hurt going in. She strained against the handcuffs and pressed her face into the bed as Kingsley thrust into her with strokes both hard and slow. Reaching around her hips he found her clitoris again. With an expert touch he teased it until Charlotte cried out. As her orgasm peaked and waned, Kingsley roughly turned her onto her back and pushed her legs open again.
Kingsley yanked her dress down and bared her breasts. His mouth dropped to her neck. He rained violent kisses across her chest and shoulders so roughly she knew she’d have bruises from his mouth tomorrow. He took both breasts in his hands and held them as he penetrated her again. She opened her legs wider and took him as deep into her as she could.
Bending over her, he met her eye to eye. “You tilt your hips high. You like deep penetration, don’t you?” Charlotte turned her head and stared at the wall. But Kingsley grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” she said. “I like it deep.”
“Then by all means.” Kingsley grabbed her knees and wrenched them up and over his shoulders. She arched back—each thrust seemed to pound at the base of her stomach.
Charlotte panted as Kingsley continued his assault on her. She hated how good it felt being taken like this, hated herself for liking the brutality so much. He manipulated her body like he owned it, touched her like her body was an open book he’d read and memorized. Turning her head, Charlotte pressed her face to her arm. As Kingsley kneaded her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger she came so hard that tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.
Kingsley lowered her legs off his shoulders and covered her body with his. Instinctively Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to move in her. He bit her neck, her collarbone, kissed the hollow of her throat all while still moving in her.
“You like this,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered as she flinched at a particularly hard thrust.
“Call me ‘sir’ when I’m inside you, Charlie.”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed, wanting to both kiss him and slap him the second her hands were free.
She kept waiting for him to be done with her. But there seemed to be no end to the pleasure he inflicted on her. He pushed and pushed until Charlotte felt her inner muscles start to tighten. Raising her hips, she took him deep into her again. She closed her eyes as another orgasm ripped through her. Finally Kingsley’s movements grew harsher and faster. His fingers dug into the back of her neck. He held her still, forcing her to meet his eyes. With one last brutal thrust he came with his eyes open and locked onto hers.
Still inside her he moved her legs flat on her bed. Her body continued to pulse around his length as his cock pulsed inside her. He dipped his head and for the first time since meeting, kissed her.
She opened her mouth to his and his tongue slipped inside. His kiss—gentle and subtle—was the opposite of the sex. She wanted him to stay in her mouth and her body all night. Kingsley pulled back and smiled down at her.
“Took you long enough to kiss me, sir,” she said, remembering his orders, remembering he was still inside her.
“You’re a fire-breather, Charlie. You can’t blame me for being wary of your mouth.”
She laughed a little but winced as he pulled out of her sore body. She lay on her back, letting her heart slow its frenetic beating as he disappeared into the bathroom. She wondered what she looked like. Kingsley hadn’t raped her but she probably looked like someone had. Her dress was torn and still bunched around her stomach. She could already tell she was covered in bruises from his hands and his mouth. Even inside she felt bruised from his merciless thrusts.
Kingsley emerged and stood by the bed. He looked immaculate in his suit. He’s been fully dressed when he’d taken her. Only his feet were bare and he had abandoned his jacket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuff key and released her. She rolled up and tried to straighten her dress.
“What?” she asked as Kingsley stared at her.
“You look beautiful.”
“I look like a rape victim.” She wiped her eyes and a smudge of eyeliner came off on her fingers.
“You look like a woman who’s been ravished and thoroughly enjoyed it.”
“You scared the shit out of me grabbing me like that.”
Kingsley sat on the bed next to her.
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