Elias pursed his lips and shook his head. "That isn't my position. The point is that a woman should never be above her man. Ambrose is worried that the switch in power between us will bring us to our knees."
"Will it?"
"Who knows?"
"But how am I supposed to take control of something I know little about? Something I'm still not sure I agree with?"
"That's why I've tried to keep you out," he said, with sadness in his whiskey-smooth voice, as he gathered up the folders and slid the pile across the table to me. "It's your decision to make, but unlike the underground, which is really quite ironic if you think about it." He chuckled, proof the little bit of madness he'd said we all have was present in him. "There are consequences for our actions. If Ruby offers you the position and you turn her down with your wisdom bullshit..."
"Hey!"
"I'm just saying." He raised his hands before lowering them to take mine. "Then I can't promise to keep you safe."
"What does she do?" I asked, my voice weak and exposing my fear. "What will she make me do?"
"Supervise. Ruby watches over all of us. She is the judge, jury and executioner. She is the only member of the counsel and all decisions that go above us go directly to her."
"What kinds of decisions?"
"Let me give you an example.” He thought for a second, glancing up at the ceiling, and then he around the restaurant. “Christopher Morris…he worked for Trace. He was the head of his most active and important organisation."
"What does Trace do?" Elias looked at me wide-eyed, wondering if he should reveal my brother's work.
"Human trafficking."
"What?!"
I slammed my hands to the table and struggled to my feet. My legs felt numb, but I couldn't sit down. Instead I paced the three feet of space behind our table with my head in my hands.
"Sit down, Ashford."
"Stop calling me that."
"Sit. The fuck. Down."
He was embarrassed. Proud, noble, evil Elias was embarrassed of the woman hyperventilating in his restaurant.
"I can't. I can't do this."
"He doesn't traffic humans, for fuck's sake. He finds the people who do and he gives them what they deserve."
I froze. That didn't sound so bad. Trace was a good man; I knew he was. I should have known he'd be on the right side of such a disgusting trade. I forced my breathing to return to something that resembled normality, and sat back down.
"Better?" Elias sat back with his arms folded across his wide chest. I nodded. "React like that again and story time ends."
"Fuck you," I spat. "Try and understand how difficult this is for me. This isn't my life, Elias."
"It will be, if you want to keep a life at all." That shut me up, and made Elias smile in menace. "Christopher decided he wanted one of the women in the back of the truck. He forgot his mission, to observe and report back to the teams waiting to infiltrate. He followed them, he parked up at the abandoned housing estate, and he walked into the flat where the girls were being bid on. He used Trace's money, your brother's fucking money, to buy the redhead. He took her back to his car, gagged her, shoved her in the back and he raped her." I shook my head, my heart clenching for my brother who had just been trying to save this woman. "He took her home and kept her locked in his bedroom. Eventually she succumbed to fate and Christopher began bringing her to meetings, flaunting his purchase in front of our family like he had the right to do so. But your brother is a clever man, Ashford. He knew what Christopher had done and he'd set up another task force to rescue Katya and apprehend his friend."
"What happened?" I asked. "No, wait."
Elias frowned when I stood from my chair and rounded the table to slide onto his lap. I needed to comfort him from the guilt I felt suffocating him, and I needed him to comfort me from the pain I felt for my brother. "She'd already escaped when we caught up with them. She'd fled on the back of a lorry with the penknife Trace had given Christopher as a sign of gratitude. She was in the back of a meat truck crossing the city to deliver to Black Ash. When the truck arrived, Katya was found dead in the back, beneath the drips of blood falling from the carcasses."
"What the fuck?"
"She'd killed herself and delivered her body to Trace. She showed him that he'd failed in protecting her."
"When was this?"
He thought for a second, stroking my hair over my shoulder and flattening it down my back.
"About six months ago."
"That's when he started to change."
"He'd accepted his role by that point, as my second and possible partner. He's never forgiven himself for what happened and yes, he did change, but he's focused, Trixie. He wants to continue to try and save these women. He wants to protect them like he failed to do for Katya."
"Where does Ruby fit in?"
"We took Christopher to her. We wanted to kill him for what he'd done, but he'd demanded to see her. Any prisoner who asks to see Ruby is granted their wish. It's a rule."
"Why?"
"It just is. I don't have an explanation for everything." He kissed my cheek to soothe the burn from his harsh words and I snuggled against his chest, the wine warm in my stomach, my pulse pounding as my head ached with all this new information. "We took him to Ruby with our plans and Christopher pled his case. Ruby granted him mercy. Christopher was maimed, he paid for his crimes, but she forbade us from killing him. Instead he was banned from our buildings, left to the underground, and given a day job in the admin office of Scotland Yard."
"Is he still there?"
"Right this minute?"
That wasn't a, 'yes, he still has his job, Trixie'. I searched his eyes, but all I received was a mischievous smile. He wasn’t going to answer me.
"So that's it? I've learnt everything there is to know and now all I do is wait until Ruby asks me to take control...of everything?"
"I don't know."
"Why? How can you not know? How can you tell me all this and then ask me to just sit tight and wait to be summoned?"
I tried to move off his lap, but Elias held me still. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to take my frustration out on him. I wanted to pound my anger into his chest and smack the evil off his face. He felt no shame for the life he lived. He felt no guilt or remorse for the lives he'd taken.
"Because I don't know what happens next." His hand drove into my hair and held me still. Pulling my head back, he pressed his lips to my neck. "Don't turn on me. Don't fight me, because this isn't my choice, either. I told you I wanted you to have no part in this. I told you to stop asking questions. Did you?"
"No," I muttered as his hand slid to my neck and he shifted so my head laid on his shoulder, my back to his front.
"No. You asked for this and you've got it. All you need to do now is enjoy your time on the estate."
"With you?"
"Yes. Are you going to complain about that too?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" His teeth sank into my neck and I squirmed in his hold. His grip was looser, but no less dominant than his father's.
"Maybe," I confessed. "I feel trapped. I feel like I've lost my freedom and I don't want to stay locked on the estate."
"So what do you want?"
What did I want? Now that was a question I'd never been asked before.
What did she want me to do? This was out of my control. I felt helpless, watching her pain and confusion and I would have given anything to not have to do this to her.
I didn't know what Ruby's exact motives were, although I planned to ask her. I only suspected she wanted Trixie to take over because what other interpretation was there?
But I shouldn't have asked her what she wanted, knowing there was very little I could give her. I wished I could take her away, but I couldn't. I wished I could erase everything she knew, but I couldn't do that either. She was all the way in now, and I'd watched it change her over the past few days. I'd watched the light in her eyes shift, from pure and innocent to the
kind of woman who could thrive here. I'd watched her demeanour shift with every orgasm I gave her which only reinforced her power over me. One day I would answer to Trixie Ashford and I didn't want that for her.
"I just want you," she finally answered, gripping onto me like her life depended on it when actually, her life depended on her ability to let go.
"You have me," I replied, loosening my hold on her and kissing the top of her head. "But this is the only way."
"You'll keep me safe, right?"
"Until I take my last breath."
"You'll stop making me feel small?"
"Ashford," I said, my term of endearment for her, although she hated it so I rephrased. "Baby." She preferred that. It made her sigh and snuggle closer. "It's who I am. I'm not trying to make you feel small, I'm trying to make you behave because I love it when you don't."
"So you don't hate me?"
"No." I shook my head. "It feels like I was made for you, and you were made for me."
"Maybe we were, made for each other."
"Perhaps."
"Elias?"
"Yes?"
"Can we go home?" she asked on a yawn.
"Home?"
"Back to the estate. I'm home when I'm with you."
God, she killed me. She switched as quickly as I did, squirming in my hold when I had her by the throat, and now a calm arousal hummed in the vein in her neck, her soul calling to feel something real amongst all the things that felt like a nightmare to her.
I didn't have the balls to tell her the nightmare was only just beginning.
"Yes. The Plough is outside waiting for us, come on."
I stood with her in my arms, scooping her up to snuggle against my chest.
"Elias?"
I loved it when she said my name. She'd slept on the way home, missing out on the chance to watch the city she missed whizz by from the car window. I thought she was still asleep as I carried her up the stairs to her room, but when I looked down at her, wide eyes sparkling like a faraway galaxy were staring back at me and a shy smile made her look young and innocent.
"Yes, baby?"
"Can I stay with you tonight?"
"In my room?"
"In your bed." She yawned and gripped my shoulder. "With you."
It was wrong. It was bad enough I fucked the woman I had fallen madly in love with in the space of a week. Taking her to my chambers, sharing a bed with her and seeing her in the morning before she'd have time to prepare herself for breakfast, was something I'd been taught not to do outside of wedlock.
But I wanted to. Badly. I wanted to wake up to her in the morning after holding her in my arms all night. I'd never done it before, never wanted it; but I did now.
"Okay."
"If you want to."
Her voice was quiet and weak, so unlike the feisty Ashford I had collided with in the loft just last week. I loved this side of her—the side that called to the tenderness I wasn't allowed to express. I stopped down the hall, just outside my room and set Trixie on her feet. She stumbled and edged backwards, pressing her back to the wall and tugging on me to follow. Sleepy lips met mine and I couldn't fight it. Instead I braced my hands on the wall either side of her head and allowed my body to press into hers as mine hardened beneath her charm and her soft curves moulded to me and kept me fixed in her trap. I didn't want to break free; I wanted to drown in all the things she did to me until I no longer knew who I was. Her kiss was aggressive and demanding, but soft and sensual. Her hands slipped into my hair and her hips edged forward to roll her pussy against my stiffening cock.
"Trixie..." I groaned, pulling back and taking her face in my hands.
"Don't force it," she pleaded and tugged on my jacket. "Just let it take us."
"You need to sleep."
"I need you."
She was hurt. She was afraid of my rejection, but that's not what I was doing. I was respecting her. I was conscious of her fragile state, her emotional cravings and the alcohol-fuelled arousal that had been simmering since I'd found her in the parlour with my father.
"You have me," I answered, gripping her hips and pulling her into the bedroom. I edged us back to the bed and sat on it as she stood between my legs. "Let me look after you."
Trixie nodded, the moisture in her eyes glistening in the moonlight. I started with her dress, reaching up to undo the zip and let it pool like an emerald green sea at her feet. Trixie shivered and moved to cover herself, but I held her wrists and placed them by her side. I wanted to ravish her, I couldn't and wouldn't deny the effect she had on me, standing in nothing but the lingerie I'd chosen with the intention of tearing it from her body. I snapped the clips of the suspender belt, smiling when Trixie jumped as the elastic whipped her thighs. I swallowed hard and trailed my hands over her legs and behind her, cupping her ass and reaching for the clasps of the belt. Pressing my lips to her stomach and ghosting kisses over her smooth skin, I undid the belt and let it fall to the floor as I slid the stockings down her legs and encouraged her to step out. I couldn't get enough of her; of her smell, her taste, the softness of her skin that gave me hope for a better life.
"Take your bra off."
I looked up, swirling my tongue around her navel as she reached behind her to free her breasts, rolling her eyes closed when she exposed her nipples to the cool night air. I stood up, towering over her as she tipped her head back and opened her eyes to meet mine. I undid the first three buttons on my shirt and pulled it over my head before placing it over hers. I noted the look of disappointment in her eyes before the cotton slid over them and when I'd done the buttons back up, securing her in my shirt, her eyes were closed, her lips parted on a sigh.
"I love the way you smell," she whispered.
I smiled knowing she couldn't see me. Six words had made me happier than I ever remembered being. Trixie Ashford was mine and I would do everything in my power to keep her.
"In bed, Ashford."
She sighed and shook her head, but crawled beneath the bedsheets when I pulled them back for her. I removed my shoes, socks and trousers, tidied our clothes away and climbed in next to her, pulling her into me as she nuzzled into my neck and inhaled my scent.
I woke up feeling warm hands sliding over my chest, full lips gliding over my stomach heading south. I hummed, took a deep breath, and released a tired groan. I kept my eyes closed and let Trixie take control, resisting the urge to flip her over and have my way with her.
"I woke up wet for you," she whispered against my skin, sending goosebumps erupting over my body.
My cock twitched against the waistband of my boxers, but Trixie soon eased my discomfort when she tugged them down.
"Don't choke me."
"Not even a little bit?"
I felt her look up at me so I gave her a smile and pushed my head back into the pillow when she took me in her hand.
Then her mouth.
God, her mouth was amazing; warm, wet and greedy. She sucked me down, flicked her tongue like she was writing her name on my shaft, and held her breath while she forced my length down her throat. I convulsed when her throat held me in a death grip, the retches that fought their way up, vibrated along my cock and shot the salty precum straight into her. She lapped it up, pulling back and extending her tongue to swirl around the crown.
"Christ, you're good at that."
"I woke up hungry."
I looked down at her as she winked up at me and drew me back in. I almost came right there, watching my cock disappear into her gullet.
"Hey," I said, folding my arms behind my head. "I'm happy to sate your appetite."
The way she slurped on my cock drove me crazy. The way she choked herself on my cock made me thrust my hands into her hair and raise my hips from the bed to fuck her mouth until I exploded into her and watched her swallow it all.
"Good little slut," I teased.
I yanked her up to me, shoved her underwear to the side and sheathed my cock in her hot pussy in one powerful move that made
her throw her head back and growl my name.
I could have sworn I heard someone outside Elias' room the following morning, but I kept my eyes closed and prayed sleep would stay. I was exhausted. Elias was still sleeping next to me and even in slumber, the erection pressing between my legs was impressive, giving me reason enough to open my eyes with the intention of utilising it.
"What do you mean he's still in bed?"
My eyes sprung open and I feared they'd pop out of their sockets when I heard Ambrose Blackwood's voice, and the ensuing commotion outside the bedroom.
A loud bang on the door followed, and I heard Lola tell Ambrose that Elias had asked not to be disturbed.
He didn't care. The door handle twisted, almost in slow motion, and the door swung open. Ambrose's menacing height almost filled the doorway as he locked eyes with me, nostrils flared, teeth bared.
"You!"
Elias jolted next to me, wrapping his arms around me as he sat upright and covered me with the duvet.
"Get out," he seethed, pointing at his father. "You can't even knock?"
"You didn't heed my warning, son," he said. "This is a transition, not a free for all. You." He pointed at me. "Get out."
"Don't move," Elias whispered, tightening his hold on me.
I felt like I was in the middle of madness, torn between Ambrose's anger and Elias' promise to protect me. Ambrose strode towards the bed and gripped a fistful of my hair, pulling me out of his son's hold and onto a crumple on the floor. My scalp smarted as he dragged me across the room and threw me out into the hallway. I was naked and in pain, last night's dream slashed with the reminder that we were not good people. Elias lunged for his father, ramming his shoulder into his stomach and rearing them back to the wall. He held his forearm against his throat and his heavy breathing sent a spray of spit to coat Ambrose's face. I couldn't help but smile—karma for spraying his spit at me last night.
"What is wrong with you?" Elias fumed. "This is not yours to forbid. I am not yours to control and Trixie is not yours to lay a finger on. I warned you last night and here you are again."
Elias (GRIT Sector 1) Page 29