by Serena Grey
Then he starts to thrust into me, His hips slamming into mine while each stroke brings me to screaming, throbbing life.
The pleasure is exquisite. It feels as if I’m going to die. My body explodes over and over, but he doesn’t stop. As my body goes limp, I hear him whisper in my ear.
“Isn’t this enough?”
When I don’t say anything, he starts to thrust again, making me come over and over again until I’m screaming “Yes, yes, yes,” to anything he asks.
Later when I’m lying on the bed, unable to move, my body limp with exhaustion and pleasure, he turns to me.
“Don’t mistake what we have” he says, his voice like cold water on my skin, “and don’t underestimate it either.”
I want to cry, to lash out at him, I feel so hurt and humiliated. “And what about Carole?” I ask, “What do you two have?”
“Is that what this is all about? Carole?” He sits up, “Did she say something to you?”
“You used her,” I accuse, “just like you’re using me.” I choke on my words. “You wanted the shares she had in your company.”
“And she threatened to sell them to the man who wanted to take over my company if I didn’t marry her.” he states without feeling, “A man she was sleeping with I might add, along with a few others.”
I stare at him, my mouth open. “You’re just saying that.”
He laughs. “Maybe you should try to get your information accurate before you start throwing accusations.”
“It doesn’t make any difference.” I say. “Even if she did all those things, it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t love me. I’m just the girl who was foolish enough to marry you so you could teach your ex-girlfriend a lesson.” I choke back a sob. “I can’t take it David.” I get up, filled with resolve.
“What are you doing?” he asks, watching me.
“I am leaving.”
“Don’t threaten me.” The hardness in his voice almost makes me pause. He rises to his feet, towering over me.
“Why not?” I spit at him. “Will you marry someone else to teach me a lesson?”
He takes hold of my arm. “Don’t test me Sophie.”
I ignore him.
He turns away. “Fine, do whatever you like. Go back to Ashford. I’m sure your little boyfriend will be more than eager to find you a place in his bed. But while you’re at it, you might want to ask yourself why you married me.”
“I love you.” I almost choke on the words, saying them makes me want to burst into tears.
He laughs cruelly, “What love. Did you fall in love with some stranger you hardly knew Sophie, just because he asked you out to dinner. Get real sweetheart, this has always been about sex.”
“Not for me.”
“Then you’re a liar as well as a fool.”
I stare at him, tears filling my eyes. I don’t care that I’ve nowhere to go. I can’t stay here.
“I hate you,” I tell him before I leave the bedroom, “I hope I never have to see you again. Carole was right about you, you use people, and when you’re done with them you toss them away like rubbish, you’re not worthy of my love.”
He flinches, and for a moment, a wounded expression flits over his face, then he turns away from me. “Do whatever you want Sophie.”
I spend the night in one of the guest rooms, with my bags for company. Early in the morning, I hear him come into the room. After a few moments, while I pretend to be asleep, he leaves. After he’s gone, I take a quick shower and leave the apartment. A few weeks ago, I had a plan to go to Bellevue and find a job, and now, that is exactly what I’m going to do.
Short Note
Psyche, as mentioned in this book, was, in Greek and Roman mythology, the youngest daughter of a king in ancient Greece. The fame of her beauty was so much that even Venus, the goddess of love, grew jealous, and sent Cupid, her son the god of love to work revenge on Psyche by making her fall in love with someone horrible.
However, Cupid falls in love with Psyche and through a fake divination, deceives her family into believing that Psyche must be made to marry a monster. They take her to the mountains, from where she is borne to Cupid’s beautiful palace by the west wind.
There, he visits her at night and makes love to her, always leaving before morning, and never showing her his face. When Psyche’s sisters come to visit her, they are jealous of the luxury of the palace, and convince her that her husband is in reality a monster who will kill her and her unborn child.
That night, while Cupid sleeps, Psyche fetches a lamp and sees his face for the first time. Struck by his beauty, she pricks her finger on one of his arrows and is filled with a feverish passion for him. When he wakes up and sees what she has done, he leaves her.
From the Author
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Thank you for reading Rebellion.
Love,
Serena Grey.
Keep scrolling to read the Teaser for Claim (A Dangerous Man #3) by Serena Grey.
About The Author
Serena Grey discovered her first love when she was a child, and that love, reading, has been her constant companion since then.
She still loves to read, but now she also writes, because the stories in her head won't leave her in peace otherwise. When she's not reading and writing, she enjoys cocktails, coffee, the Vampire Diaries, Smash, and constantly drools over Gabriel Macht as Harvey Spector in Suits.
Claim
A Dangerous Man #3
Serena Grey
Teaser
“MAY I DRIVE NOW?” I ASK STEVE as he maneuvers the car through the gates into the paved driveway.
He turns to look at me. His head is completely shaved, giving him the look of a member of the criminal underworld. At least I think so, in actual fact he is an ex-marine. “Not today.” he tells me.
He doesn’t talk much, but he always lets me drive when we get to the house, even though I still have two years to go before I can get a license. He says he has extreme confidence in my ability to drive, after all he taught me himself.
When we get to the end of the drive, I see why he didn’t let me drive. The shiny black Bentley that’s always covered up in the garage is parked close to the front door. That can only mean one thing. They’re back.
I frown, “See you later kid.” Steve says as he stops the car by the door. I climb out, shouldering my backpack. I’m not very eager to go into the house. I drag my feet to the door, hoping I don’t run into them.
Inside the house, all is quiet. Maybe they’re tired from their flight, or sailing or whatever, and have gone to bed already. I move quietly. With any luck, I can hide out in my room until they go out to one of the numerous parties they probably have lined up.
No such luck. When I open the door to my room, I find my mother waiting for me.
Her eyes are bright and excited, as if she’s spent all the time during her absence waiting to see me again. “David!” she exclaims, wrapping me in a cloud of soft perfume as she gives me a hug, “You’ve grown so tall.”
I mumble something in reply. I wish she would go already. When I was really little. I lived for these moments, the returns, when she would float back into my life after a long absence with stories of places they had gone, and parties she’d been to. She would come with her beauty and her exotic adventures, and my life in her absence, filled with school, reading, and servants would fade to dull grey.
Now I just wish she would leave me alone.
She starts to talk about how she missed me. They were gone for almost six months this time. I tune her out and sit at the edge of my bed, looking at the picture on my desk of my father carrying me around his neck when I was little more than a baby. He died when I was six. A drunk driver ran a red light and crushed
his car. My mother married Henry Weber almost immediately. An idle millionaire who’s only desire is to travel and socialize. She’s been travelling and socializing with him for nine years.
“You’re beginning to look so much like your father.” The soft words cut into my thoughts, and I turn to her. She looks wistful.
I don’t say anything. I turn back to the picture.
She leaves soon after. They are going out to a dinner party, and she has to prepare. I go downstairs to find Steve, he has an apartment over the garage, and sometimes if I plead enough, he teaches me some of his martial arts moves.
It’s while I’m walking across the lawn towards the garage that I hear the voices. I turn back towards the house and see my mother and Henry’s arguing through their bedroom window. I’m not surprised. They argue a lot. Henry is a jerk. I can’t stand him, he can’t stand me, and I have no idea how my mother can stand him.
I’m about to turn away, when he raises a hand and strikes my mother across the face. I stand there frozen as she holds a hand to her cheek. He turns towards the window, and seeing me, walks towards it and abruptly pulls the curtains closed.
That was the first time I saw him hit her, but it wasn’t the last.
Someone is trying to buy my company.
That’s what on my mind as Steve drives through the streets of Ashford, the small town where I came to do a friend a favor.
The favor is a community college drop-out called Rick Cruzman. He’s developed an innovative software for managing virtual money for online trading and has been trying to market it for months. He got a few minutes to sell it at a mediocre software conference at a business resort, Ashcroft Hills, and because my friend, who’s happily retired from business, asked me to look into him, I took a forty-five minute drive from my office in Seattle.
I was also curious, and restless, and desperately in need of space to clear my head.
The software was interesting. I offered to buy it, and I did.
I turn to look out of the window, my mind going back to my original thoughts. Someone has acquired a sizable amount of Preston Corp stock on the stock market. I shouldn’t be worried. With forty-five percent of the company stock, I’ll retain control even if they buy every stock they can find, as long as Carole doesn’t sell her twenty five percent, or as long as she sells them to me.
Carole.
I can’t control the small flash of irritation I feel when I think of her. Capricious, selfish, and vengeful Carole. We’re not currently seeing each other, and these days, I’m mostly regretful that we ever did, and I’m not a man who spends time being regretful.
Steve slows down to take a turn. From the back seat, I can see his smooth shaved head, the same as when he used to drive me as a teenager. He’s a little more bulky now, but still as taciturn as the day we first met.
I’m about to go back to reading the paper on my lap when my eyes go to the window again, and I see the girl.
Her hair is gold, pale and wavy, and held back from her face in a ponytail. Her figure is slight, yet curvy, and her eyes, as she gazes at the car passing by are a deep, innocent green. She looks lost. Beautiful and lost.
For a moment, I just stare at her, even as Steve picks up speed and I have to crane my neck.
“Stop.”
Immediately the car stops.
“Back.” I say, still looking towards the girl. She’s gone into the building where she was standing, but I can still see her through the glass front.
Steve puts the car on reverse and backs up until he’s parked by the spot where she was standing just a few moments ago.
I only pause for a moment before I follow my instincts and step out of the car.
Carver’s Gifts. That’s what the sign says. Through the glass, my eyes meet hers again. She is staring at me, looking frozen. I wonder what I’m doing, going to talk to her.
For a moment, I consider getting back in the car.
But I don’t, instead, I walk to the door and push it open, walking into the shop, and approaching her where she stands staring at me.
Her eyes are bright, her cheeks red, and her soft pink lips are gently parted.
Immediately I’m filled with an insane urge to take her in my arms and kiss those lips. It makes no sense.
“Good afternoon.” I say before I do something ridiculous.
She keeps looking at me, her eyes look strangely confused. “Good afternoon,” She replies finally. Her voice is breathy and light, like a soft breeze on a moonlit night.
The fact that I’m having poetic impulses makes me smile slightly.
“Would you like to buy something?” She asks, in that breathy voice. Her cheeks are very red, I notice. Why is she blushing?
I hadn’t even thought up a reason for being there. “Of course,” I reply, “I’d like ah...” I look around, taking in the shop, I can see a lot of pretty things in ceramic and glass “a gift for my mother.” I turn back to her, and watch her eyes widen slightly.
“Okay.” She says, still looking at me. She moves towards me, almost touching me as she walks past me deeper into the shop. She smells clean and fresh, shampoo and soap. As her ponytail bounces past me, I have to try extremely hard to keep my fingers from touching the soft waves.
“What do you have in mind?” I hear her ask as I follow her through the shop, “We have um... a selection of items you can consider.” I’m only half listening. I’m watching her slender waist and the smooth curve into her hips. She turns back, and I have to look back up at her face. She looks so innocent, I almost feel guilty for checking her out.
She steps back, away from me. She looks tense all of a sudden. “We have um... These glass sculptures are all made locally,” she says. She continues to talk, her words gaining speed with each second. I cannot tear my eyes away from the natural pinkness of her lips as she speaks. I really want to kiss those lips.
“What’s your name?” I interrupt her speech.
She looks bewildered. “Sophie.” She tells me after a short pause. “Sophie Bennett.”
“Sophie.” I repeat. The name suits her, I study her for a moment. She looks quite young. I find myself desperately hoping that she’s not in high school or something else that’ll make me feel like a pervert for checking her out. “And how long have you worked here, Sophie?” I ask.
“I... um...” She blinks a few times, and my eyes follow the movement of her long lashes, “a few months.” She says.
“Interesting,” I’m curious. “College?”
She shakes her head.
She looks like she should be in college. “How old are you?”
She pauses, frowning as she licks her lips in a quick movement, and the sudden hardness in my pants tells me how much I want her. “Eighteen.” I hear her whisper.
Eighteen! I’m lusting after a baby.
I take a small step back. “You’re very young.” I say unnecessarily. I’m disappointed. Her eyes drop from my face, and then she looks back up again. We look at each other for a long while, my mind full of images of all the things I want to do to her. I am a pervert.
My eyes catch on a small glass sculpture beside her. “I’d like the glass swan.” I say.
She looks like I just spoke in Greek. “The what?”
I smile at the expression on her face and incline my head towards the sculpture. She looks embarrassed as she picks it up, taking it to the desk at the front of the shop.
“Do you want it wrapped?” She asks, looking up at me.
“Yes, and delivered.” I give her my address in Seattle, and she jots it down in neat handwriting on a notepad.
I hand her my card. As she takes it, her fingers brush against mine, cool and soft. I’m filled with an urge to take her hand and kiss it, or something equally stupid. The contact is only for a few moments, but those moments seem to last for a long time. I look at her face, and she’s staring up at me like a deer caught in headlamps. She feels it too, I think, whatever this is.
Abruptly, she pul
ls her hand away and swipes my card, not looking at me.
“I want to see you.” The words escape my lips without any input from my brain. She stops what she is doing, and those green eyes find mine again. “What are you doing tonight?” I continue.
“Nothing.” She whispers softly.
“Then have dinner with me.”
She looks as if she’s thinking about it, confusion, and a whole lot of other emotions running through her features. “Please.” I say. I give her a smile for good measure. Somehow, I want this very badly.
“Yes.” She says.
I feel like I’ve won a major triumph. I realize that I’ve been leaning over her, eagerly waiting for her reply. I straighten. “When do you finish here?” I ask.
“Five.” She tells me.
“I’ll be here.” I smile at her, backing slowly towards the door. Outside Steve is waiting patiently in the car. He doesn’t ask me why I’m grinning so widely as I climb into the back seat.
Also by Serena Grey
A Dangerous Man
Awakening
Rebellion
Table of Contents
Also By Serena Grey
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About The Author
Teaser
Also By Serena Grey