by Measha Stone
“It’s yours.”
She spun to face him. “What? Mine?” She laughed. A studio all to herself?
“Yes, yours. My mother used to paint up here. She said the lighting was the best. It was also the only room my father didn’t care about since it’s so oddly shaped.”
At the top of the house, the outside wall angled inward, and the actual floor space of the room wasn’t very large. But it would work perfectly for her painting.
“I—” She glanced around, feeling her chest tighten. “Thank you.”
He smiled. Not a wide, toothy grin, but a soft, genuine tug of his lips.
“I had most of the paints replaced. I wasn’t sure what was still good.” He ran his fingertips over the brushes. “But these are all from my mom. She took good care of them.”
Ellie, watched the hint of sadness show up and fade while he seemed to lose himself in a memory. This room wasn’t just a studio. It was a part of him, part of his history, of his life, and he was gifting it to her.
“The brushes are amazing. I’ll be sure to keep them in perfect condition.” She placed her hand over his. “I promise.”
He slipped free and took a step back. “Your class is going well.” He changed the subject.
“Are you harassing my professor for my grades?” she teased.
“I don’t harass. I ask a question, and he answers.”
She laughed. “Are you serious? You asked my professor about how I’m doing? Am I twelve all of a sudden?”
He stepped closer to her. “I asked him to keep me informed, that’s all. He sent me an email to let me know the semester project was going to be a big part of your grade.”
“Oh. So, you figured I would need a place to work on the project?”
He studied her. Even after all the times he’d done the same thing, his stare still sent an electric shiver down her spine.
“I wanted to be sure you had everything you needed.” He picked up a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “You don’t put your hair up anymore. Why?”
He knew the answer. He had to, otherwise the arrogant look on his face was a skillful deception.
“I asked a question, Ellie.” He ran his nail over her jaw up to her ear.
“You said you don’t like it up,” she confessed softly.
He sank his fingers into her hair, just above her ear, pulling the strands at her scalp and running them through the long auburn tresses. She winced when he caught a small knot and bit her lip when he didn’t stop but rather shoved his fingers through it.
The softness she’d seen in his eyes only moments before hardened. As though a decision had just been made. His hands dove back into her hair, but this time, he took a fistful of it and held her steady by the base of her neck.
“Do you like your studio?” he asked, his voice hoarse and pupils fully dilated. When he pulled her closer to him, she could smell the musk of his cologne.
“Yes, Ash,” she whispered into his chest. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she snuggled into him, feeling the war going on but wanting to hide from it a little longer. “Thank you,” she added.
He grunted in response.
“You won’t be able to go to class for a few weeks,” he said, and tightened his hold on her when she started to push away from him to look up. She needed to see his face, to see what his eyes said.
“Why? You just said you talked with my professor.”
“Why?” He yanked her hair. “What’s the answer to that, Ellie?”
He was pulling away from her again. They had finally started to make headway, a gentle connection, and he was pushing away.
She sighed. “Because you want it.”
“That’s right.”
But there was more. There had to be more. He wouldn’t just yank her from her class. He wasn’t even home most of the day, and although she fully knew what went on in the Annex she hadn’t gone back.
“But you said I could attend class. You even made me sign up for two more.” She fisted her hands in his shirt when he still wouldn’t release her.
He sighed, the hard whoosh of breath parting her hair.
“It’s just for a little while. It’s not safe for you to leave the estate right now.”
“Safe?” She shoved against him, and he relented. She stumbled over her own feet.
“Marcus Komisky is causing me some trouble. It’s being dealt with, but it’s not going his way, and he might try to use you to get to me. So, you’ll have to stay here until I deal with him.”
“Marcus? The man from the party?”
This was her fault. If she hadn’t been so damn nosy, this wouldn’t be happening.
“Yes.”
She ran her hands over her face. Any anger over the situation should be aimed at her. She knew that, and he knew it, too.
“What sort of trouble is he causing?”
“Nothing that can’t be handled. A few surprise health inspections at the clubs. He’s very juvenile in his attack, but it’s going to get him even more pissed. And stupid and angry don’t make for a safe combination.”
Making her way to the windows, she looked down over the city below. The sun started to fade behind the skyline, casting an orange glow between the buildings.
“This is my fault.”
“This is being dealt with. All you have to do is what I say, and that’s to stay within the estate. No sneaking off, okay?”
His thick arms wrapped her, and she found his body pressed against hers the comfort she needed.
“Now, I think you wanted to thank me appropriately for the studio.”
Her arms were swept behind her and pinned with only one of his, while his free hand began to unbutton her blouse.
“Ash.” She tried to squirm. “The windows.”
He laughed and bit her earlobe. “Do you think I give a fuck if someone sees us? Besides, we’re too high up for that.”
As each button opened, more of her flesh became exposed. She stopped trying to get free of him; she wouldn’t win against his strength. And the urge to best him had diminished over the past week.
“No bra?” he chastised, but with a lightness that told her he was more pleased than surprised. “Such a dirty girl? You went to school today with no bra on? Do you think the other students saw your nipples?”
She scraped her teeth across her lip when he pinched a nipple.
“Do you think some boy across the room watched as they hardened beneath your blouse? Wanting to suck them and pinch them?”
Again, she didn’t answer, and he didn’t seem to require one. He moved his hand across her chest to the untouched breast and cupped it.
“Are they allowed to touch your tits, Ellie?” He nipped her earlobe again, and she stiffened.
“No, Ash.”
“So, you were teasing them, is that it?”
What answer could she give to please him? Anything she said would be wrong, or twisted.
“Why aren’t they allowed to touch these tits, or this ass, or this pussy? Why can’t anyone else—including you—touch this body?”
Including her? Maybe he didn’t know, but her hands wandered over her pussy almost every morning after he made her scream the night before. Reliving those evenings during her shower made her mad with desire, and she had to let the pressure off or she wouldn’t make it through the day.
“I asked a question.” He grabbed hold of her nipple and pinched. Hard. Unrelenting.
Her knees buckled, and she struggled, wanting to relieve the pain but not get away from him.
“Answer me, Ellie.” He sank his teeth into the tender spot where her neck and shoulder met.
She squealed and twisted, but it only served to increase the pressure on her nipple and scratch her shoulder with his teeth.
“Because I belong to you!” she yelled out, sucking in air when his fingers opened and burning took over from the pressure. She panted as he rolled the sensitive bud with the pad of his thumb. Around and around he went w
hile she regained her breathing and the pain subsided.
“Very good. I was beginning to think you forgot.” He chuckled.
Her blouse hung open, but it wasn’t enough for him. He swept the material to the side, fully exposing her front before slipping his hand into the elastic of her skirt.
“Now, you were going to thank me,” he reminded her, while the tip of his middle finger stroked her clit.
She moaned and rolled her head back.
“I said thank you,”
“Yeah, but those were just words, and I’m looking for more from you.”
Keeping her arms pinned behind her, he walked her over to the drawing table. Every muscle pressed against her body warned her she couldn’t get away from him, even if she wanted to. And she found she didn’t want to.
He pulled free of her skirt and pushed her facedown over the table. Still, she had no use of her arms and couldn’t push up or away. All she could do was turn her face to breathe easier.
“This pussy is all mine, isn’t that right, Ellie?” His voice sounded darker, more of a growl.
“Yes, Ash. Yours. All yours.” She could feel her body responding, feel the emptiness inside her she needed him to fill. The way only he could, the only way she wanted.
The sound of his zipper lowering made her smile. He wasn’t angry, or trying to humiliate her. He was taking what was his, and she was his. Had been since the first time he touched her wet pussy.
Her skirt flipped up over her back, and her ass cheeks were pulled wide apart. It was then she realized she could move her arms, but she didn’t.
“Hold your cheeks open for me, Ellie. Give me my pussy.” He took her hands and put them where he wanted, and she did her best to pry her bottom apart for him.
The burn in her cheeks reminded her she was supposed to be horrified over the action. But the wetness of her pussy contradicted her mind.
“Good girl,” he cooed. Pride welled inside of her at his approval.
The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and she slid her feet wider apart, lifting her ass higher, offering herself to him. Wanting and waiting for him to take her, to take the need away and fill her with everything she wanted from him.
His rough hands gripped her waist, under her skirt.
“I should probably punish you for not wearing panties. What were you thinking going to school like this?” he asked while slowly pushing his hard cock into her.
She sucked in her breath, memorizing the feel of every inch he gave her. This must have been what it felt like to drink for the first time after being lost in a desert.
“Why didn’t you wear panties today, Ellie?” he asked, stilling his movements.
She groaned.
“Because.” She tried to move back toward him, to take what he wouldn’t give. But all she got in return was a sharp slap to her ass.
“No. Bad girl. Stay still.”
She groaned again. Although kicking him would be counterproductive at the moment, it seemed like an amazing idea.
“Tell me.”
“I was going to find you when I got home.” She twisted her neck to look at him. It was the truth. When she got home from school, she’d planned to search him out in his office in the Annex. The plaid skirt and white button-down blouse hadn’t been an accidental wardrobe choice that morning.
“You were coming home to seduce me?” He lessened his grip on her hips.
When she found his expression, she saw genuine surprise. He didn’t expect that answer. Then again, seeing as she was his prisoner, why would he expect her to be the aggressor. Why would she seek him out to have sex, or any sort of connection? He was the beast who stole her away from her life. She should have gone up to her room and planned his death, not his orgasm.
“I just wanted you. You’ve been—withdrawn.” She didn’t let go of her ass, and she realized it made for a strange situation to be having such a discussion given her current position.
The surprise disappeared, and he flashed a toothy grin. He slapped her hip, and plunged into her.
She yelped, the edge of the desk bit into her, but she didn’t care.
His fingers clawed at her flesh, and his cock thrust into her over and over again until all that remained in her mind was the glorious feeling of his body. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other surrounded them, but she didn’t dare. She couldn’t care less that she chanted his name, louder and louder with each thrust.
“Oh! Fuck.” She cried out when it was too much. She couldn’t bear it another moment.
“Now, Ellie. Now.” He reached below her, knowing exactly what she needed.
The featherlike brush of his finger over her clit was enough to shove her into oblivion.
Her screams rose to the rafters, and his own mingled with hers only moments later. She released her hold on herself as he fucked her, causing his release. The table creaked.
She could still feel him inside her, throbbing against her vaginal walls. He’d come hard, so had she, and their breath came fast. He withdrew from her and, before pulling up his pants, he peeled her from the table and held her.
“Fuck, Ellie.” The words were weighted with care and genuine softness.
He helped put her together, buttoning her shirt and flattening her skirt back down. She helped button up his jeans and buckle his belt.
While she pulled the leather through the metal clasp and worked the buckle closed, she felt him watching her. But it didn’t intimidate her the way it had before.
Something had shifted.
CREATED BY JUTOH - PLEASE REGISTER TO REMOVE THIS LINE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ash gripped the handle of the studio door, wanting to punch Daniel in the throat for stopping him from getting upstairs to Ellie. He’d been dealing with bullshit inspections and meetings all day because of Komisky.
The asshole couldn’t get to him or Ellie to make any actual threats, so he was harassing him through the legal system. Ash had just as many cops on his payroll as Komisky, maybe more, but health inspectors weren’t cops. They were annoying little bitches. Easily bought off, but Ash ran his clubs to code. Buyoff weren’t needed.
And after the third inspection of the week, even the inspector was getting annoyed. Komisky may have paid the asshole, but he couldn’t find shit that wasn’t there. And Ash had a man with him every step of the inspection, so there wouldn’t be any planting shit in his clubs.
He ran clean places. If Komisky had a fucking brain in his head, he’d be setting the cops on the trail of the personal loans he gave, or the manner in which he extracted payment. But seeing as his old man, and he, himself, ran the same business it would only come bite him in the ass.
So instead, Ash wasted his time dealing with inspectors and crossing too many Ts.
All he wanted to do was go up to the studio and watch Ellie paint. But just as he was about to go up and kiss his girl, tease her about the amount of paint she managed to get on her nose and cheek while creating her work, he had to pause to hear out Daniel.
“You have two seconds.” Ash gave him a scathing look. Daniel nodded, giving him the satisfaction of half an ounce of fear.
“I went over her calls, Ash.” Daniel handed him a piece of paper filled with her cell phone logs. He hadn’t asked about them in over a week. Ellie had been content, almost happy. She didn’t try to get into the Annex without him, and he’d taken her there a few times in the evening to have fun in a playroom.
“What am I looking at?” Ash barked as he noticed one number was called repeatedly. As she had no actual friends, the call log usually only listed his own number or the house number.
“That’s Jason Sawer’s phone.”
“Jason? Who the fuck is Jason?”
“He’s the guy who works at the coffee shop with her dad.”
Ellie’s phone had been blocked from dialing or receiving calls from her father’s home number, the coffee shop, and his cell phone. But Ash hadn’t known about this Ja
son.
“She’s been talking to her dad?” Ash’s fist crushed the log.
“No. Just him, I think. I don’t know. We didn’t tap the calls, just keep the log.” Daniel swallowed and eyed the door.
“Fine.” Ash grabbed the handle again and pulled.
“Ash, we don’t know. She could just be talking to this guy about her dad, you know, checking in.”
“Checking in? She’s not allowed to check in. Remember what I told you. She isn’t to have anything to do with that lowlife of a father.”
“I’m just saying, before you go off on her all snarling and shit, hear her out.”
Ash couldn’t believe what he saw before him. One of his own men was giving him directions and trying to stick up for Ellie. Had she become so big a part of his world that his men felt they could take her side, could protect her from him?
“And I’m just saying she’s mine to deal with. Don’t forget that.”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah. I get it. Right.”
“Where’s Peter?”
“He’s in the Annex. Amber wanted to talk with him about getting on the list for the next party.”
That mess didn’t need his attention. Peter could handle it. He had his own issue upstairs.
“Fine. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Ash took a step toward him.
“Yeah.” Daniel turned and hurried off down the hall, cursing under his breath. He had earned every curse Daniel threw at him. It wasn’t him Ash wanted to yell at. It was the girl up in the studio, looking sexy and fuckable.
Throwing the door open, he barged up the stairs to the studio.
She was exactly as he imagined he’d find her. The easel was positioned so he couldn’t see what she was working on, but he could see her face. Her red hair was plaited, and smudges of gray and white paint dotted her nose and her jaw, where she’d probably rubbed away an itch.
“Ash? Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home until dinner.” She peeked around the canvas at him, gifting him with a shining smile. He’d gotten used to the softness of her greetings, but it didn’t lessen his irritation.
He held the call log up to her, as though it explained the furiousness of his frown.