by Dani René
“Do you like your panties in your mouth, my sweet girl?”
My head lolls from side to side and I know he can see the fear in my eyes. It feeds his vile need. He reaches for something on my nightstand and when he kneels between my legs, I gasp into the material gagging me. His fingers plunge into my core, opening me painfully and I scream into the makeshift gag.
The pain is coming. The pain is coming. The pain is coming.
Without warning, his fingers are replaced by the round glass orb and I cry out, but my sounds are muffled. Pushing the snow globe into me, he twists it around. The sinister smile on his face has my body retching and my throat burns with bile that sits in my esophagus and I can’t swallow.
“Look how pretty you are, spread open wide. You like that, don’t you? Can you see what you do to me?” His hand wraps around his shaft, stroking it. Tears stream down the side of my face and onto the pillow below me.
He pulls out the object and pushes it back in, fucking me with the present he bought. As he forces it into me I fear it may shatter while inside my body. His hand moves faster, both ramming the object into me and getting himself off.
He stops and his body locks, as he shoots thick white streams of cum all over my mound and stomach. When he finally relieves me of the object, I close my eyes, thankful that it’s over. “Open your fucking eyes.”
I obey. It’s the only thing I can do. I don’t have a choice. I never have a choice.
“Watch me enjoy your sweetness.”
I’m forced to watch him lick the glass, tasting me, savoring what he’s just done.
“Broken little Snowflake. No man will want you. You’re filthy. A disgusting, tainted whore.”
* * *
Fear takes hold of my heart, and revulsion has me dry heaving as my body wracks with sobs. My stomach tightens with anxiety as my heart thuds in my ears like a drum. A warning.
“No, no, no… please,” I beg to nobody in particular. I don’t pray, because no God will save me from this nightmare. On my bed is the very object from the nightmare that’s haunted me most of my life.
My throat tightens, like it did every night for two years of hearing my bedroom door being pushed open and heavy footfalls making their way toward me. When my body was taken and used, I became nothing more than a fuck toy for my stepfather to enjoy.
He was right. I can never move on.
I’ll never be able to be a normal girl.
No man on this earth would want someone like me.
I want to curl into a ball on the plush carpet and cry, but I’ve been strong for too long. So, I steel myself, take a deep breath, and push this emotion, this fear and anger into the back of my mind, into the box where I’ve kept the years of agony.
Rushing to the patio door, I shut it with a loud bang, locking it with trembling fingers. I don’t look at the bed. I can’t. The offending item sits there, taunting me.
I’ll always find you.
I race to the bathroom, opening the bottle of tablets I’ve been taking for the past four years. Swallowing two down, I close my eyes and breathe through the fear. I can’t let him win. It must be a hallucination. I’m so broken I see things. The doctors said it was part of the trauma I suffered.
I’d see the monster in the dark. I’d hear his voice.
I thought I was going mad. Until the pills helped me silence him. With traveling and work, I forgot to take them for two days, and this is the price I pay. When I finally open my eyes, I watch the mascara streaking down my face.
Focusing on tonight, I wash up, but when I reach my bedroom once more, it’s gone. It wasn’t real. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s not really there. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I get ready for the event and dinner.
Carter
“Do you understand what a fuck-up this is?” My father’s dark eyes smolder with anger. They’re red hot and they’re directed at me.
I nod. There’s nothing else I can do because I know I’m in deep shit.
“Yes. I know. But—”
“No, Carter, no fucking buts. You’ve done this for the very last time. I can’t bail you out every time you decide to act like a fucking arsehole. You’re old enough to know how to act responsibly, or do I need to teach you that too?”
“No, Father.” It’s not the first time I’m being reprimanded by him and I doubt it will be the last. He’s trying to be proud of me and all I feel is disdain. For him. For my life. I just want to be a normal nineteen-year-old. Is that too much to ask?
“This will all be yours, son. When you turn twenty-one you’ll become my second-in-command. Remember that as a Hamilton, you need to keep up appearances. So, we need to write a check, which you will deliver. Is that understood?” The man I’ve grown up to call father is telling me my future, and all I want to do is run from it. It’s been like this since I can remember—the grooming and planning. Me and my sister have had our lives set out for us since we were born.
“Yes, Father.” This is one of my biggest fuck-ups. I can tell he’s holding back and he’s right. I almost fucked up my entire life because of one stupid night.
“Carter, if I have to keep cleaning up your mess I don’t see a future for you. I’m your father, but you need to learn responsibility.” His glare is evident and I know I should have been more responsible. My father has paid my way for years. Every time I messed up and made mistakes he was there.
Call it teen angst, but after being told what to do all your life, there are times you want to break out of the mold. “Father, I’m nineteen, I’m bound to make mistakes.” Pushing up from the chair, I stalk to the office door. He practically lives here, and I know it’s because of the pretty woman outside.
Maybe that’s where I get it from. My playboy ways. My father loves women, it’s no secret, and he’s been fucking the woman he calls his assistant for years.
“This is no fucking joke, Carter. Here, take this and sort your shit out. I’m not going to say it again and I’m not going to do this again. If you’re going to act like a spoilt brat, you’ll be brought down so fast your head will spin.” He hands me the piece of paper that’s meant to fix everything. One million pounds.
That’s nothing to him, a small sum of money to make sure his son looks like a saint. Well, I’m no saint, and he better remember that. I realize then and there that I do not want to be like him.
“Thank you.” There’s nothing more to say as I walk out of his office with a piece of paper that will save my future.
* * *
Shaking my head of the memory, I pull on my black tuxedo jacket. I take one last look in the mirror and wonder if Ella will be able to handle me. Will she obey me? Let me take what I want?
Picking up my phone, I open my messages and send her one.
Me: Ella, I’m almost ready. Send me a photo of your dress, so I can match my tie to it.
As soon as I hit send, I can’t help the smirk that plays on my lips. I know she’ll obey. It’s in her nature. I don’t wait long and my phone beeps. Sliding my thumb over the screen, the message pops up with a photo of the dress she bought with a short message.
Ella: I think you’ll find it easy to match black with black, Carter.
She’s fucking beautiful and the thought of her in black lace hugging her curves has me hard as rock. Her body is perfect for anything she chooses to wear, but there’s something about lace that tempts me. Who am I kidding? She’s my temptation, slowly becoming my obsession.
I know Bennett has invited her to the charity event, which only works in our favor. We’ll easily get her to submit to us. The thought of finally finding a woman we can claim as our own excites me. Never before has someone intrigued me the way Ella has.
What I wouldn’t do to climb inside her mind and learn every thought she has. To know what she’s hiding behind those beautiful eyes, to have those perfect lips spill the dirty secrets that hold her hostage. My body craves her and I’ve only known her for a few days.
I head into my livin
g room and the intercom chimes. Shit. As I open the door my sister bounds in.
“Carter, I’m so excited. I spoke to Father and he said I—” She stops when she turns to take in my appearance. “You’re looking particularly poised and sharp.” Her frown is adorable. My sister is twenty-nine, but there are times I’m certain she’s still a teenager.
“I’m trying to impress. Now what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” I head into the kitchen. Her footfalls behind me clink on the tiles.
“Who is she, Carter?”
Ignoring her question, I open the fridge and hand her a beer. My sister acts like the perfect elegant woman in front of my parents, but I know deep down that’s not who she is. She accepts the bottle with a smile while staring at me, waiting for my response.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t fucking lie to me. I can see this is for a woman. Is she beautiful?” My sister is insistent; she always has been. Curious like a little kid wanting to know everything. Even when she knows some things will hurt her. Like when she found out about my father having an affair with his secretary.
“Fine. She’s my new real estate broker. I’m taking her for dinner and she’ll be joining Bennett at the event tonight. I don’t need you to approve. She’s lovely and this is purely a business dinner.”
“Oh please, brother, you’d never take a woman to a business dinner. I’m sure by the end of the night you’ll be knuckle deep inside her.” There’s one thing about my sister. She’s brutally honest. She calls it like she sees it and I love her for it, but my sex life isn’t one of the things I want her analyzing.
“Kat, finish your beer and show yourself out. I’ll see you later.” I lean in and plant a soft kiss on her forehead then head to the door.
“Enjoy your latest obsession, brother.”
Her giggle is the last thing I hear before shutting my front door.
My sister is right. Ella has become something of an obsession over the past few days, and I won’t stop until she’s divulged what’s hurting her. I want everything. Her secrets, her body, and her mind. And if I get her heart in the process, then I’ll take that too. Don’t get me wrong, love is something I crave, but my life hasn’t afforded me the luxury. I’ve coveted too many things that weren’t mine.
Don’t judge me before you know my background. Women beg and plead with me to take them, to fuck them mercilessly, because their husbands aren’t around to do it. And what normal red-blooded male would say no to a woman on her knees?
I love watching women come, to see their eyes glisten with desire and feel their bodies pulse with release. To taste that sweetness is like a drug to me. It’s an addiction.
Fifteen minutes later Baines pulls up to the pavement outside Ella’s building, and I get out of the car. Walking up to the entrance, I push the glass door open and smile at the doorman. “I’m here to see Ms. Carmel. What’s her apartment number?” He offers me a smile, but I can tell he’s wary.
I told Bennett I’d be picking her up and he agreed. We’re playing this like we would any other woman. With us, there’s no escape.
“I’ll buzz her.” He picks up the white phone and pushes four buttons. Six. Nine. Six. Nine.
Turning my attention to the foyer, I take in the artwork on the walls and scan the old paintings of London back in the heyday as they like to call it.
The lift pinging has me turning around and the sight I’m met with astounds me. Ella in a black lace figure-hugging dress looks like an angel walking out of the fires of hell and all I want to do is take her back into the sinful darkness with me.
Her long hair is in loose waves down her back and she has smoky eye makeup on, which only accentuates her amethyst eyes. “Carter.” Her voice is ragged, which has me tipping my head to the side. And when she nears I can see her cheeks are flushed. She’s been crying.
“Are you all right?” I step toward her and reach out, but as soon as my hand touches hers, I notice her flinch. I wait impatiently for her response, needing an answer. I would never hurt her.
Why would she be afraid of me?
“I’m fine. Can we go?”
My gaze is trained on her. She’s shorter than me and as I peer down at her she lifts her chin. She’s trying to be strong when all she wants to do is break down. A fragile princess. I nod, lacing my fingers through hers, guiding her to the waiting car.
Once we’re seated and Baines pulls away I take in her stoic expression. The carefree girl from yesterday is gone and I need to know what happened. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to torture you to get an answer?” I chuckle, but stop when she glares at me. That’s new.
“I don’t enjoy being forced to do something I don’t want to.” Her tone is clipped, but when I reach for her, she allows me to slip my hand in hers.
“Trust me, Princess. If I want you to do something”—I lean in, allowing the next words to whisper over her—“it will be for your pleasure.”
“And what if I don’t find pleasure? What if I’m not made that way?”
Her words stop me cold. I can’t help staring at her. Long moments pass, but her question hangs in the air between us. I’m about to answer when the car stops and Baines announces we’ve arrived at our destination.
Opening my door, I slip out and offer my hand to her, not expecting her to take it, but she does and I can’t help the satisfaction that blossoms inside me. Once she steps from the car, her lips part on a gentle gasp. It’s an exquisite sound, one I’d like to hear more often.
“This is incredible.” She takes in the glass building.
The Shard, one of London’s newer developments, and I’ve booked out a private dining room for us at the Aqua Shard, with a view of the city below, while we’re dining.
I haven’t forgotten what she said earlier, and there’s no way she hasn’t experienced pleasure before. What the fuck does that even mean?
Once we’re seated, I glance at her. The awe in her beautiful features is breathtaking and I find myself staring at her. She turns to face me again and a smile plays on her lips.
“This is much more than I expected, Carter. You didn’t have to—”
“I did. I wanted to.”
The waiting staff appear with the wine I pre-ordered and proceed to fill her glass and mine.
“Do you trust me?” It’s the same question I asked her previously when she informed me trust was difficult for her.
She gazes at me for a moment, then shrugs. “I’ll try.”
“It’s all I ask.” Looking up at the young waitress, I see the blush on her cheeks when I offer her a smile. “Can we have two of your chef’s special, the salmon fillet?”
She nods and spins on her heel, leaving me alone with Ella.
“Do you bring all your women here?” Her question has me chuckling. She sounds jealous.
“All my women? Does my reputation precede me that much?” Lifting the wine glass, I take a sip while watching her reaction.
Her gaze drops to my mouth and I can’t help teasing her by licking my lips.
“Yes, I suppose being a rich man like yourself, you must have many women falling over themselves for your attention.” She’s right, but right now there’s only one woman who has it.
“I do, but you’re the one with me right now and I’m curious if you’re willing to experience what I have to offer.” The energy that surrounds us is at a boiling point as desire swirls around her. I’m tempted to touch her, to make her whimper. I love playing in public. The taboo of getting caught heightens the senses.
She lifts her glass and takes another sip. Her lips shimmer with the liquid and I can’t help myself from leaning in and as our eyes meet, I can see the fear evident in her gaze.
“Trust me.” My words are a soft murmur and she doesn’t flinch. Lifting my hand, I tip her chin so I have better access to those plump lips. “May I?”
She nods. It’s quick and unsure, but I have to do this.
My lips brush over her
s. Her breathing turns ragged. Her pupils dilate. They’re the color of the sky as the sun sets and night falls. My tongue darts out and slowly traces the curve of her lips, tasting the wine from them. My dick is so hard while images of drizzling wine over her body and licking it off have me groaning, but this time I don’t hide it. “You’re beautiful, Ella. I want to taste you.”
Her gasp is loud, and all I can do is smile.
“Carter, I think—”
“Stop thinking, just feel. Let go and experience it. Let the pleasure take over all your senses and allow me to show you what it feels like. You’re fragile. Aren’t you?” My words cause her to whimper. Unshed tears shine in her amethyst gaze.
“Only in the dark,” she confesses. It’s the first real statement she’s made while looking directly at me. Raw and honest.
My other hand lifts to her arm and I trail a featherlight touch down her bare arm. When goosebumps rise on her skin I can’t help smiling. I know she wants me because it’s written all over her face. “Do you want to take the lead?” I question softly.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
We stare at each other for a few moments and I take in the innocence that’s so clear in her features.
“Do what feels natural. But let me warn you, this is the one and only time I’ll allow you to be in control. Normally, I’ll be in charge, and you’ll love every fucking moment,” I warn her with a feral grunt.
She lifts her chin and I love the cheekiness I see on her face. “Then do it.”
The fear I saw earlier is gone and I realize this is my moment. She’s allowing me in. A sneak peek behind her high walls and I’d be stupid if I didn’t take it. I take a gulp of wine and turn to her. Gripping her hair at the nape of her neck, I pull her body against mine, then without warning my mouth crashes down on hers and we share the chilled Chardonnay while our tongues fight in a sexually charged dance that has me wanting to have our bodies connected in more places than just our mouths.
Her body becomes pliable, molding to mine, and I swallow the whimpers from her, reveling in her taste. She’s more potent than any drug. She’s more intoxicating than any alcohol, and I’m addicted.