by Dani René
I drop to one knee and push her thighs apart. Looking up at her through my lashes, I grin. “Listen to me, and listen well,” I tell her before my tongue darts out to swipe at the smooth lips that glisten with arousal. Her legs tremble on either side of my face. “You can never top me from the bottom.”
Her lips open into an O when I dip two fingers inside her body before I suck on her clit so hard her nails claw at the mahogany beneath her, but she can’t find purchase.
“I’m in control. Always.” I bite down on her clit, causing her to shake and scream out into the darkness as I devour her juices. “And when you eat, sleep, and breathe, I’ll be the one making sure you do.” I continue my ministrations as my mouth latches onto her smooth pussy lips, the soft hair that trails a teasing line over her mound tickles my nose. “And when this pretty little cunt comes and gushes, it will be for me, by me.”
Adding a third finger, I pump faster and faster. Watching the pleasure break across her pretty face is like an adrenaline rush shooting through me. The power I have to either send her flying over the edge or keep her teetering is intoxicating.
“I wanted to save you,” I admit, hoping she’ll be too far gone to listen. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt by those closest to you, by those who promised to keep you safe, but in the end, only put you in harm's way.”
Her body convulses around my fingers, and for a moment, I slow all movement, keeping her aching, trembling, and gasping for something. Her hips undulate, wanting friction against the nub of pleasure, but I hold her still.
“What are you talking about?” Scarlett breathes, her gaze glassy as she stares down at me. Her thighs still spread lewdly, her cunt dripping all over my palm. “I… Please,” she pleads, realizing just how precarious her position is right now.
“I’m the one who owns you now,” I tell her. “Am I understood?”
Her lips part on a squeal when I crook all three fingers, stroking the spot deep within her that has her toes curling and her fingers digging into the smooth, shiny surface beside her ass.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting.” The warning in my tone is gruff, darkness shrouding me as my vision turns blurry with the need to be inside her.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbles before moving her hips once more to take the pleasure I’m not giving. “Please, just allow me to come.”
In all my life, no other submissive I’ve had kneel for me has ever pleaded so beautifully. Yes, they’ve been on the brink, they’ve begged like good little sluts, but the way Scarlett intones her words has my cock leaking against my sleep pants.
Leaning in, I suck her clit into my mouth while finger-fucking her fast and hard until the cries of her orgasm bounce off the walls of my office, and her sweet, musky essence drenches my tongue and hand. The snug, pulsing walls of her cunt squeeze my fingers, tighter and tighter, and my only thought is how she would feel around my dick.
Through my lashes, I watch her come down from the high, and it’s as if she’s only now realized what I’ve done. Admitted to certain things while keeping her high on the need to come.
I slide my fingers from her body and bring them to my mouth, licking her taste. At the sight of this, her pupils dilate further, and soon, those pretty eyes are black with lust.
“Next time you come into my office without my permission, your punishment will not be so pleasurable, little red,” I tell her before rising to full height, towering over her. I help her into her shorts before I settle in my chair. “Would you like me to tell you a story?”
23
Scarlett
A tale of darkness. That’s what he told me, and it’s been swirling in my mind even hours later as I slide under the bubbles. Warm water engulfs me, swallowing me whole, reminding me that I’m as fragile as a porcelain doll.
I listened to the story Lycan told, of how his father came to Crimson Falls all those years ago but was forced to leave. Everything he said sounded like a fairy tale gone wrong. And even though I can’t imagine a little boy fleeing for his life, I realize my family isn’t as innocent as I always believed.
There are secrets still hidden in Lycan’s deep green eyes, and I know his admission had only been a pinch of salt in a myriad of truths. When I break the surface of the water, I open my eyes and find Lycan leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
“I have a meeting,” he tells me, but his ravenous stare drinks in my naked form. Even though he can’t see much under the multitude of bubbles, my nakedness is obvious.
“Okay.” I don’t know why I feel disappointed in that bit of news, but I am. “I thought you were staying to tell me more.” My voice takes on a tone of sadness, of frustration, which only earns me a chuckle.
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he informs me as he pushes to full height and fills the room with his large frame. “Be a good girl, and I might even reward you tonight.”
“I’m not a submissive,” I throw out quickly, causing his eyes to darken at the thought.
The corner of his mouth quirks. “I beg to differ, but that’s a conversation for another time and place. You’re welcome to explore the house, but don’t go into my office.” The warning is clear. But it only piques my curiosity even more. He must know this. “I’ll know every move you make,” he informs me easily as if reading my mind. I watch as Lycan turns and heads for the door, throwing a look over his suited shoulder before leaving me alone to ponder what I’m going to do today.
One room I will be exploring is the library. After confirming that his father knew my grandmother, I need to uncover more about their tryst, and I’m hoping his father had copies of the same fairy tale. I wonder if there are any more hidden notes or letters which will shed some light on their secret relationship.
Leaning back against the cool porcelain, I replay some of what Lycan told me.
“My father was a year older than your grandmother. At the time, the two names—Shaw and Bardot—were well known in Crimson Falls. They were considered royalty. And even when my dad left, there were still whispers of why and how.”
Lycan’s expression turns dark, and even as I snuggle into his hold, I shiver at the thought of my gran sending a man she loved away. My grandfather was strict in both personality and values, and I wonder briefly if he had forced her into marriage.
“My father loved deeply. I recall coming here when I was about five. My dad brought me here to say goodbye to the house. He told me things didn’t work out but never explained why. He said there were too many ghosts, which didn’t make sense to me at the time, but when I got older, when I learned the truth, I realized the ghosts weren’t dead. They were very much alive.”
“So, he loved my grandmother,” I whisper, wondering if that’s why Lycan chose to save me. “What about my father? Did you know him after your dad sold the house? answers ”
Lycan stiffens under me. “Horatio Bardot was the reason I couldn’t come back to Crimson Falls for a long time. But when he walked into my club in New York, he didn’t recognize me. Only later did he learn the truth, but by then, it was too late. I knew too much about him for him to ever walk away.”
“But my grandmother knows you, and she knows I’m here. Isn’t she angry you’ve taken me? Or want me to marry you?” Confusion settles in my gut like a lead weight.
Lifting my gaze, I catch sight of his nod. “She does. But she knows if she tries to stop me, she’ll only hurt her family, her son. Blood is everything to Grace Bardot.”
“So, she doesn’t care about me.”
The dark, sinister grin that curls Lycan’s lips sends cold dread shooting through me. “Your grandmother knows better than to hurt another Shaw.”
His gaze locks on mine before I ask, “Hurt another Shaw? Did she hurt you in the past?”
He nods slowly, but a glimmer of rage sparkles in his eyes. “Something like that.”
I push to my feet, my legs still wobbly from the orgasm he bestowed on me earlier. “I don’t understand why you’re treating me
like a princess in your home when my family hurt yours. What did she do?”
The story seems credible. His dad loved my gran. They then went their separate ways before my dad was born. Lycan knew my father long before I ever came along. But why would he want to keep me happy, safe, if the Bardot family had broken the Shaws?
Unless they didn’t.
Lycan doesn’t respond, but pain etches itself on his face. An expression so agonizing it steals my breath. Realization hits me right in the chest, a confirmation of just what happened between our families.
“My father was the one who did something,” I whisper, awareness creeping into my mind and tumbling from my lips. When I meet Lycan’s green irises, I find agreement swirling around like a tornado about to take out anything in its path.
He promised to finish the story when he got home from his meeting. Fear skitters through my veins at the thought of having to hear the truth about my family. Never did I think my father could be anything but the good person I thought he was. I grew up believing he was a hero.
And now, I’m not so sure.
In my bedroom, I get dressed quickly, wanting to explore before Lycan returns. By the time I reach the library, I’m anxious. Not sure what I’m looking for, I start at one end of the classics shelf, slowly sliding my fingers over each spine. The fairy tales are all first editions, and I pull out every one of them.
Carrying the stack to the desk, I settle in the wingback chair and get comfortable. I pick up the top book, the gold title sparkling in the low light of the lamp that sits to my right. Flicking open Cinderella, I’m astounded to find the same scrawled handwriting on the first page, just like I did in the copy of Red Riding Hood. Confusion takes hold of me because why would the books be in Lycan’s house and not my grandmother’s? Surely, she would have wanted to keep them safe.
My Princess,
The clock struck midnight, and I had to leave. There wasn’t a moment I didn’t watch you this evening, and it was magical knowing you’re mine. The gala will forever be our place. Taking you to your father’s office while people danced and laughed, was nothing short of intoxicating.
I’ll forever be drunk on you, my darling Grace.
One day, I will put a ring on your finger. Until then, we will forever love from afar.
Your Prince
Conall
Shutting the book, I settle back, needing a breather before I flick open the next book, finding once again a note, much like the last two I’ve read. Each one speaks of their love, their tryst, and their want and need for each other.
My chest tightens at the last one, where he tells her that he’s leaving. It’s a goodbye letter, one that drips with agony from every inked word. By the time I shut the pages, they’re blurry through my tear-stained lashes.
“I thought I would bring you something to drink, Miss Bardot,” Gray says as he makes his way inside carrying a tray with a cup and pot of tea. When he sets it down, I wonder briefly if he knew about my grandmother and Lycan’s father.
“Thank you, Gray. Are you no longer working at my grandmother’s home?” I question when I realize he should be there, not here.
He smiles. “I do. She doesn’t need me today, so I’m here with Mr. Shaw.” Affection graces his tone when he speaks about Lycan. He hovers for a moment before continuing, “Mr. Shaw, Lycan.” A grin creases his expression as he remembers something with a faraway look on his old, wrinkled face. “He’s a good boy. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. His brother…” Gray shakes his head, his thoughts taking over, but his admission sending my curious nature into a spiraling tornado, and soon enough, I’m about to burst with more questions.
“His brother?” I prompt, hoping the old man can offer some answers.
He’s silent for such a long moment I’m almost certain he’s not going to respond, but then he focuses on my face, taking me in. “You look just like her when she was younger,” he remarks, his tone wistful in remembrance. “She loved Conall so much.” The sadness in his voice makes my chest ache, my heart beating wildly against my ribs.
“Are you talking about Grace? My grandmother?” Once more, I urge with a gentle push of questions, and finally, Gray nods.
“She was one of the most beautiful women to grace this home. For years, they spent time together, falling in love, and I was convinced the curse was coming to an end.”
“The curse?” I want to shoot to my feet, to grab the old man by the shoulders and shake the information out of him, but I bite down on my tongue to keep my excitement at bay. I want to know more, to learn about the affair, the relationship they had.
“There is darkness once a Bardot and a Shaw come together,” Gray tells me earnestly. His voice scrapes against his throat as he admits a truth I’m sure I’m not meant to know yet. “It may be an old wives’ tale,” he says. “But I believe that whenever love comes between your families, something bad happens.”
“Something bad?” This time I straighten, making my way to where he’s standing. As if the moment is lost to him, Gray shakes his head before turning to leave. “Wait, please? What happened with my grandmother and Mr. Shaw?”
He’s about to answer when the deep, rumbling baritone of my fiancé breaks through the heavy silence. “Thank you, Gray, that will be all.”
The older man moves quickly, leaving me with Lycan. He doesn’t seem angry as he walks toward me, unbuttoning his suit jacket before shrugging out of the sleek, black material. Left in only his light grey shirt with dark pants, he looks slightly disheveled with a tie hanging from the pocket of his slacks.
“What have you been up to, little red?” Lycan asks, his gaze tracking the books, where I’ve been perched for the past hour, and a bit, and the tea Gray brought for me moments earlier.
“Reading.”
A dark brow arches in question as he regards me with amusement. “You’re a bad liar.” He steps up closer to me. “I’m sure you’ve discovered the stupid little love notes my father left in the books,” he says. “They’re useless when the person you’re writing them for doesn’t give a shit.”
“I don’t believe she didn’t give a shit. Romance isn’t stupid.” Tilting my chin in defiance, I lock my glare on Lycan’s. “And you don’t know what was felt by my grandmother. Have you ever spoken to her about it? Asked her why she didn’t respond?”
He considers my question before shaking his head. “I didn’t need to. My father ensured she was beside him throughout their relationship, even in secret. And what did she do? She walked out and never looked back.”
“How, pray tell, do you know that?”
“She married your grandfather.” His words are cold. Ice cold. “That’s why love is something that we can never allow between us.” There’s no debating this with him. His walls have been pulled up, brick by brick. He’s hiding behind his anger. Instead of allowing me in, instead of talking about it, Lycan’s convinced he’s right.
“I will not marry a man who regards love and emotion as nonessential in a marriage.”
Lycan reaches his hand into my hair, tangling his fingers in the long, dark strands before tugging me closer. “Tell me something, little red,” he commands. “Do you see yourself ever loving me?”
“I don’t know you.” My words are spat in anger and frustration because, honestly, I haven’t learned who Lycan Shaw is. Yes, he’s given me some insight into his family, but I don’t know him. He’s made me come, he’s given me pleasure, but marriage, a partnership, is not only physical. It’s mental, emotional.
He leans in, his lips whispering over mine when he responds, “That’s not what I asked.” I half expect him to kiss me, to claim my mouth with his, but his restraint is iron-clad. “You can’t love me. I’m not a man who can return emotions.”
“Then why marry me?” My mind whirs with possible answers to my question. Some I don’t want to think about, others make my chest ache.
But when he finally responds, it’s a dark promise. “Because once you take my
name, you, Miss Bardot, will carry on the Shaw legacy as it was always meant to be.”
Confusion settles in my gut. My mouth opens, but I can’t find the words to reply. I want nothing more than to learn about him, his family and to better understand the reasoning behind his choices. But I’m sure no matter what he tells me, no matter how much we figure out, I’ll always be the girl he bought. I’m the arranged marriage he sought by blackmailing my father.
“I’m tired.” I pull away from him, putting space between us as I move backward, my ass hitting the high, wooden desk. He doesn’t come for me; he doesn’t grab at me. I make my way past Lycan before I stop, halting my retreat, and I’m closer to the door than to him. “If you focus solely on hurting others, an eye for an eye, your life will be a series of acts that will always leave you with guilt.” I move to the exit and step out into the hallway before shutting the door.
My heart cracks slightly, a barely there fissure of pain at the thought of only being here to bring children into his life. And the idea of me stuck in a loveless marriage is not what I would have envisioned for myself, but now that I’m here, perhaps I can try to fix whatever my grandmother and my father broke.
Confusion settles like a heavy weight in my gut. I don’t trust Dad, not after he signed my life away, but I also can’t trust Lycan. Maybe I should talk to my grandmother. Perhaps she can offer some form of truth in the swirl of bullshit I’ve been told over the past few days.
Tomorrow is the Bardot ball, the gala where my grandmother and Lycan’s dad used to meet. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for me to expose the ugly truths of our families.
24
Lycan