by Penelope Sky
Little did he know, I was much worse than my father ever was.
And he would pay for what he did.
I grabbed the decanter of scotch and threw it against the wall, listening to it shatter into a thousand small shards. Richard didn’t come running in because he was used to these outbursts of rage.
I snatched my phone and called Vanessa.
It was midnight, so she might be in bed by now.
She answered. “Hello?”
I didn’t say anything, keeping my silence over the line.
She knew I was still there. “Something wrong?”
So many things were wrong, but I didn’t think I could tell her. “When will you be home?” I needed to sheathe my anger, and the best way to do that was to be buried between her legs.
“Late tomorrow night.”
I could make it one more day. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Now she turned quiet.
I didn’t ask how her Christmas was because I didn’t care. I didn’t ask her anything because I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to sit on the line with her, listen to her breathe while she lay in the beautiful mansion her father had bought for his family.
“I gave the painting to my parents… My mother cried.”
I remembered the painting like I was still looking at it. I remembered the details, the joy. The sense of family was overwhelming, the feeling of friendship and loyalty. She expressed so much in that picture, so much that I never had.
“My father really liked it too. They hung it up on the wall right then and there.”
I wanted to say something nice, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She had the life I wanted, and I was the one sitting alone in my office, thinking about the man I wanted to kill, thinking about my mother’s dead body eaten by cockroaches in the dumpster.
Life wasn’t fair, and I never got used to it.
She had everything.
I lost everything.
I hated her.
But I swallowed my anger as much as I could and kept my fury bottled inside. I was the one who called her, after all. “That’s nice.” That was the best I could do, so I hung up and turned off my phone so she couldn’t call me back.
I had an endless supply of scotch, so I opened another bottle and poured a glass.
And I drank until I passed out.
I sat on the couch in the darkness of her apartment and waited for the sound of her approach. She said she would be back this evening, and I made the two-hour drive so I could be there when she walked in the door. Her happiness infuriated me, and the only way I could numb the pain was by burrowing myself between her legs.
It was the only form of revenge I could have.
The only thing that could stop me from thinking these bad thoughts.
Voices came louder as people approached.
“You don’t need to carry my stuff, Con.” Vanessa’s beautiful voice came through the door.
“I know I act like I hate you, but I don’t. Let me carry your shit.” Conway’s deep voice came next. His appearance came into my mind. I remembered how he looked at the Underground, in his finest suit. I’d wondered if he knew who I was—like I knew who he was.
The keys moved in the door.
I was tempted to stay put, to let him look at me when he walked inside. He wouldn’t be armed, and his pregnant fiancée would be in the car downstairs. I could kill him then go after her next. Carter would probably be there, but I could handle him if it was one-on-one. Vanessa would come after me with everything she had.
I’d have to kill her too.
But I wouldn’t break my word to Vanessa. She kept her end of the deal and didn’t tell her family what was going on. So I walked into her bedroom and hid out of sight.
They stepped inside seconds later.
Conway was in a black jacket and jeans, looking so much like his father it seemed like Crow Barsetti was in the house. “You want me to put these in your bedroom?” He had her two bags in each hand.
“No.” Her answer flew out fast, an instinctive reaction. She knew I was in the bedroom even if she couldn’t see me. She probably felt my presence, felt my possessiveness even in a different room. “I got it. You should get going. It’s been a long day.”
“So fucking stubborn.” He dropped her bags on the floor. “You’d think I would get used to it, but I never do.”
“You’re more stubborn than I am.”
“But much better looking.”
I listened to their sibling-bickering with annoyance. I didn’t have a brother or a sister. Neither of my parents lived long enough for the luxury.
“Thanks for giving me a ride home,” Vanessa said. “Christmas was nice.”
“It was,” he said in agreement. “Mom and Dad really liked that painting.”
“Yeah…” Her voice softened. “Seems like they did.”
I turned the corner and watched them by the front door.
Conway wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m right down the road.”
“I know.” She hugged him back.
“Merry Christmas, sis.” He kissed her forehead then walked out.
She watched him leave before she shut the door behind him. She turned the lock and kept her position in the entryway, her back rising and falling hard. She knew I was just down the hall, and getting her brother out of there as quickly as possible was her goal. She didn’t want us breathing the same air. Her forehead rested against the door for a few seconds before she stepped back.
I stepped out of her bedroom and made my way down the hallway and into the living room. She didn’t turn back to me, already knowing I was there before she heard my footsteps. Like she was using her body as a shield between me and the exit, she didn’t move. She was scared. I could see it in the way she held herself.
It was the first time I’d ever seen her that way.
I stopped behind her, my chest pressing into her back. My arms circled her petite waist, feeling the thick jacket that covered her body. My head angled down, and I kissed her on the neck, feeling her frantic pulse right against my lips. Her heart was beating so fast, the terror ripping through her in waves.
She kept her body in front of the door as long as possible, as if giving her family enough time to get to the car and drive away. All I had to do was pick her up and move her, but she would probably fight me to the death.
But I wasn’t interested in them—only her. “You kept your end of the deal. I’ll keep mine.”
The breath left her lungs slowly, her relief visibly washing through her.
I was almost touched by the gesture, moved by how much she cared for her family. She acted as a human shield to keep me away from them, and the only time she showed fear was when she was scared for someone else.
I pulled her jacket off her body then hung it up by the door. She was in a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and it hugged her body in all the right ways. It showed the deep curve in her waistline and the perkiness of her tits. Her skin-tight jeans made her ass look like a heart. I pressed my body against hers, wanting her to feel how hard I was for her.
I got off on her fear.
I got off knowing I was the man who scared her the most. I had the power to take away her entire family, and I loved having her pinned underneath my thumb. Power was the kind of booze I couldn’t get enough of.
Along with Vanessa Barsetti.
I gripped her hips and slowly turned her around, forcing her to face me. Now that I could see her expression, I could see the fear in her eyes. Vulnerable, afraid, and protective all at the same time, she was in survival mode. She wanted her brother out of there as quickly as possible, to keep him away from the monster hiding in her closet. My hand cupped her cheek, and I held her gaze for minutes, seeing the web of emotions deep in her eyes. It was impossible for her to be strong and sassy for me when she didn’t care about her own life. She would lay hers down in an instant to protect her brother. She was
loyal, having complete disregard for her own life.
I respected that.
I would do the same for any of the guys in my crew, the closest thing I had to family.
I slowly backed her into the door and moved my hands to her hips. I pressed her into the wood, my body surrounding hers and keeping her pinned so she had nowhere to go. Her family was gone, and she was my prey all over again.
Even though I was twice her size, twice her weight, and ten times her strength, she didn’t seem afraid of the monster that I was—just what I was capable of doing. My thumb brushed along her bottom lip, and I studied her like I hadn’t seen her in weeks rather than three days. I felt the softness of her mouth, the plumpness of her lips. Her makeup was done, her eyes dark and smoky, and her painted lips made them look even more appealing. She curled her hair and had it done nicely. When she perfected her appearance, she was even more stunning. She could be a model if she wanted. She could be the wife of the richest man in the world—the ultimate trophy wife. She could be anything she wanted.
But she was mine.
I owned this woman from head to toe. I claimed her deeply and passionately. No other man could have her because I sprayed my presence everywhere, from her home, to her bed, and in between her legs. “Miss me?”
“No,” she whispered. “And yes.”
My hand brushed her hair behind her shoulder, revealing her slender neck. “I missed you every night and every morning.” I could have gone out and picked up another woman who was depressed over the holiday season, but she would have been a disappointment. I would have pictured Vanessa underneath me, and it would have been difficult because of the condom wrapped around my dick. I’d rather have Vanessa’s bare pussy, so wet and slick.
A slight tint moved into her cheeks, understanding exactly what that meant.
“Is that how you missed me?”
She held my gaze, slight defiance in her eyes. She tried to downplay her attraction to me, but every time she did, she looked stupid because it was painfully obvious it was a lie. Last time we fucked, she admitted I was the best she’d ever had. “You know that’s the only way I missed you.”
I cornered her like an animal, and I liked making her surrender over and over. “I got you something for Christmas.”
She kept up her guard, knowing the gift wouldn’t be jewelry with a red bow on top.
“Go in the bedroom and put it on.” My hand dug into her hair, and I brushed my lips over hers, teasing her.
Her lips parted automatically like I expected.
But I didn’t kiss her. I just reminded her how much power I had. I released her and stepped to the side, allowing her to pass.
She gave me a violent look before she headed to the bedroom.
I watched her go then eyed her bags on the floor. I knew Vanessa would try to kill me eventually and spending a few days with her parents gave her the perfect opportunity. While she pulled on the red lingerie I got for her, I looked through her bags.
It was mostly clothes, makeup, and hair supplies. But I found one of her sweaters rolled up, and once I straightened it out, I found the Glock inside.
I couldn’t help but smile.
She asked her father for a gun, or she stole one of his. It was the perfect opportunity to get a weapon since I had a tracker in her ankle. I could see everywhere she went, so if she tried to buy a gun, I would know about it.
Too bad I was too smart for her.
I emptied the magazine of all the bullets then put it back as I found it. There was no extra ammunition, so she obviously had it for one use only.
To kill me.
I dropped the bullets into my jacket pocket by the door then sat on the couch, rubbing my palms together. Vanessa was the kind of woman you should never underestimate. She was getting more acquainted with my power as time went on. She only had more reasons to be scared of me. But that didn’t deter her. The only way to save her family without getting them involved in the situation was to kill me.
And she intended to make that happen.
I could be angry, as any normal person would be.
But I wasn’t normal.
I was fucking hard.
I loved her fight and her spirit. If she were under torture, she would hold up a lot longer than men twice her size. She had a determination that couldn’t be snuffed out, not even by a man like me. That forced me to respect her.
Which was hard to do.
To me, respect wasn’t given freely. It was earned.
And she fucking earned it.
She never truly submitted to me. She kept up the battle, silently. She wouldn’t stop until she reclaimed her freedom and her safety. She enjoyed fucking me, but she didn’t allow that to cloud her judgment. She kept them separate, viewing me as both a man and a monster.
Once I waited long enough, I walked into the bedroom.
She stood up in the red lace panties and the matching push-up bra. She put on the red pumps I gave her, and they fit her petite feet perfectly. Her dark skin looked great against the bold color, the color that reminded me of blood. With her makeup done that way and her lips painted the same color, she looked like the kind of woman you only saw in a fantasy.
My eyes trailed up and down her body, worshiping the gorgeous woman standing before me. Her nipples pressed into her bra, and she shifted her weight because she was provoked by my stare. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, and when she felt my intense expression, it made her feel more desirable.
Exactly how I wanted her to feel.
I stood in front of her, just inches away, and breathed onto her face. I didn’t touch her, drawing out the anticipation for as long as possible. I purposely didn’t kiss her, saving the best for last. When her lips were on mine, we created a firestorm. The chemistry was hotter than an open flame. When my cock was inside her, it was like throwing gasoline on top.
And then we exploded.
My fingers wrapped around her neck, and I felt her pulse against my fingertips. It was much slower now that her family was gone and safe, but it still beat hard against her skin. I could feel it reverberate against my fingertips.
I brushed my lips against hers again, dragging them gently across her flesh. I didn’t kiss her, but I let our mouths touch. I let the fire stretch between us, listened to the bonfire of chemistry begin to crackle.
Her hand went to my forearm, and she gripped it as I held on to her neck. Her lips were parted slightly, and she breathed onto my lips, her excitement infectious.
I was torturing myself, and I was torturing her.
I wanted to make her want me, to make her beg me. She was just scared a minute ago, but now her desire had bubbled to its full level. She turned into a woman who wanted a man. Our physical relationship seemed to be different from our sinister one. As long as her family was far away from me, she could feel her pussy ache for my cock. She could allow herself to yearn for my kiss.
“On your back.” I released her neck, my cock stirring in my jeans because it was anxious to feel that slickness. The longer I made her wait, the wetter she would be. I hadn’t even kissed her yet, but I knew her pussy was pooling with moisture. I could excite my woman without even touching her.
She followed my command and moved to the bed. She got on her hands and knees first and crawled up the bed until her head was near the pillows. She turned over and lay down, her knees together and the tips of her heels pointing into the mattress.
I opened her nightstand and pulled out the black leather belts I hid inside.
She immediately eyed them, her face growing suspicious. “What are you doing with those?”
My knees sank into the mattress, and I grabbed both of her hands, choosing not to answer her.
She jerked her hands away. “What are you doing? You aren’t tying me up.”
“I’m doing whatever the hell I want, baby.” I grabbed both of her wrists with a single hand and pinned them over her head. “Because you’re mine. I own you. You can fight me the whole wa
y, but we both know how this is going to end.”
“I said no.” She tried to move from underneath my size, but I was far too heavy for her.
“You think no means anything to me?” I stared at her with ferocity before I took both belts and wrapped them around her arms like snakes. I crossed them above her wrists then attached them to the headboard.
“Stop.” She tried to buck me off with her hips. She threw her entire weight into it, doing everything she could to move me.
I locked the belts in place, so now there was nothing she could do even if she got me off her.
“Bones, I mean it.” She tried to command me with her expression, but it wouldn’t work. It didn’t matter how beautiful or how angry she was. Nothing would change what was about to happen. “Untie me now.”
I held my body on top of hers, my cock nearly breaking through my zipper because I was so damn hard. She was scared, and she was pissed—a perfect combination. “No.”
“Yes.” She tried to jerk her body one more time, but it only shook the mattress and didn’t affect me at all. “Why do you need to tie me up? I’m willing. I’m here. I put on the lingerie, and I’ll fuck you like I always do. Now take them off.” A thin film of moisture coated her eyes. Not from sadness but frustration.
“What are you afraid of, baby?”
“I just don’t like this. I don’t like—”
“Feeling powerless.”
When she turned quiet, she confirmed my assumption.
I pressed my forehead to hers. “You will always be powerless with me. So you should just get used to it.”
“Please let me go,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything you want…”
I kissed the shell of her ear then dropped kisses along her jawline toward her mouth. “You need to trust me.”
“I’ll never trust you,” she hissed. “You’re the last man in the world I trust.”