Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  I take another sip of my wine, debating my reply. I much prefer she sign the documents before I reveal my truths, but I suppose she deserves to know since it pertains to her body.

  “You’re not infertile, Camilla. The point of today’s visit was to ensure you’re in good health after what my brother and his idiot friends did to you last night.” I set my glass down and relax into my chair. “He also canceled your birth control shots, as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

  “Birth control shots?” She blinks at me. “I… I don’t understand.”

  “Sign the papers and I’ll explain everything.”

  “Explain everything and I’ll consider signing,” she counters, causing me to arch a brow.

  “You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate, sweetheart.” I fold my hands in my lap. “Warren left you nothing. I’m offering you everything.”

  “Assuming I can produce an heir.”

  “Several heirs,” I correct again. “If you’re concerned about our ability to fornicate, I’m happy to provide a demonstration.”

  “I failed Warren.”

  “Because you were on birth control,” I say patiently.

  “I’m not on birth control.”

  “Not anymore,” I agree. “But you were. I mean, I couldn’t risk my brother impregnating you. Not when you were meant to be mine all along.”

  She frowns at me, her mind processing and rejecting my words right before my eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense. How could you…? And how could I…?”

  “Sign the papers, Camilla.” I’ll need Trevor to go over them when she’s done and confirm that she didn’t miss anything. He’ll also add his own signatures where appropriate, then file everything for me. Technically, he should be here to witness it all. But I refuse to do this with an audience, and he frequently breaks the rules on my behalf.

  It’s a corrupt world.

  And money affords me whatever the fuck I want.

  Including the gorgeous female sitting across from me. “I won’t ask again,” I tell her.

  “You didn’t ask,” she whispers, her pupils dilating with a mixture of fear and something akin to arousal. She likes my dominance. That’s good, considering I have no other side available.

  “Because you have no alternative. It’s this, or I send you back to the program where they’ll tag you for the Elite Maidens or worse.” It’ll never happen, but I voice the threat because she needs to hear it. “Is that what you want? To become a high-class whore?”

  “Isn’t that what I am already?” Soft, hurt words, grounded in memories courtesy of my idiot brother.

  “I’m not Warren,” I inform her, my voice just as soft. “He never valued you. I will.”

  “For an heir.”

  “Heirs,” I correct for the third time, allowing her to hear the growl in my voice.

  She swallows, her pulse thrumming visibly in her neck.

  Despite my vow not to repeat the words, I do it anyway. “Sign, Camilla.” If she denies me again, I’ll bend her over this table and fuck her into submission.

  She’s mine.

  She’s always been mine.

  And I allow her to see that with my gaze.

  I’m not a knight or a savior. I’m a man who knows what I want, and right now I want her on her knees and begging for my cock. And if she’s really good, I’ll grant her wish. But I need her to comply by finalizing the contract so I can legally possess her.

  However, rather than oblige me, she picks up her fork and finishes her steak. Afterward, she drinks her wine, then dabs her pretty lips with her napkin and sets it to the side.

  Silence.

  She holds my gaze, her beautiful blue eyes allowing me a glimpse into the inner workings of her mind.

  This is probably the first time someone has ever requested her acquiescence, and while it’s clear I’m not entirely asking, I am giving her the moment to contemplate her options.

  Either she signs willingly or I make her sign.

  And that hint of a defiant flare of her nostrils tells me she’s considering the latter.

  By removing her choice, I maintain the control. That can often make a fate such as hers easier to accept. Because then she can place all her anger and hatred on the one who forced her hand—me—rather than despise herself for agreeing to the terms.

  “You can sign now with dignity, or you can sign while I’m inside you. What will it be, little beauty?” I ask her.

  She swallows. “What will happen after I sign?”

  “I’ll add my signature and hand the documents to my lawyer for him to finalize the arrangement.”

  “Making me your wife.”

  “You’ve been my wife for two years, Camilla. This just makes it all legal.”

  She frowns at me. “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s nothing to understand,” I tell her softly. “You’re mine. And it’s finally time for our wedding night.” I push away from the table to stand and button my suit jacket. “So what will it be, sweetheart? Signing with dignity, or while I’m fucking you?”

  Her throat moves as she considers her options.

  Either she makes the decision on her own or I make it for her. The outcome is entirely the same regardless of which path she picks.

  She clears her throat, her cheeks reddening. “I need a pen.”

  I smile. “Good choice.”

  Chapter Eight

  Camilla

  Seven signatures are all my life is worth.

  Fourteen if I include Master Kaiden’s handsome scrawl on each line beside mine. He finishes the final page, then stacks the papers together again. “Claude?” he calls out, his deep tone causing me to jump.

  He’s not even going to wait for the ink to dry before putting me to work.

  I may as well start stripping now, but I know better than to act hastily. He’ll tell me where he wants me and how.

  “Sir?” The driver from earlier enters, his broad shoulders almost as intimidating as his stoic expression. He reminds me of a linebacker, only much more lethal. Violence lurks in his hazel eyes, and the unmistakable aura of security surrounds him. We’ve never really met, but I sense his purpose. This is Master Kaiden’s protector.

  “Can you deliver these to Trevor? He’ll want to file right away.” Master Kaiden places the paperwork in a file, then hands it to Claude.

  “Congratulations, sir,” he replies, accepting the documents. “Would you like Mrs. Graves properly prepared for the celebrations?”

  I nearly snort at the formal way he asks if I require pampering prior to being fucked by whomever he has in store for me tonight.

  “No, I think I’ll handle that on my own,” Master Kaiden replies, holding out his hand for me. “Wife.”

  The sinful tone caressing that single word causes my thighs to clench. I’ve never heard it spoken that way before. Warren always uttered it like a curse. But from Master Kaiden’s mouth, it resembles a benediction.

  Perhaps that’s just my mind losing itself to a fantasy that’ll never be. However, for a moment, I allow myself to believe he’s about to make all my darkest dreams come true.

  I press my palm to his and allow him to pull me up from my seat. His green irises smolder as he studies my features. “You are the most exquisite female of my existence,” he says almost reverently. “Now, let me show you around your new home. And afterward, we’ll talk about what it means to be mine.”

  I want to tell him that I already know what it means, that his brother provided a hefty two-year introduction to my ownership within his family, but I keep my mouth shut and follow his lead instead.

  He dismisses Claude with a nod, then takes me on a guided tour of his estate. It’s lined with windows, most of which overlook the beach. There’s no fancy ballroom or ostentatious grand hall. It’s just polished and pristine, all whites and silvers and black granite.

  Two kitchens.

  A spacious pool off to the side with stairs that lead down to the beach, a
nd a patio that wraps around his home.

  Three living rooms.

  One family area.

  A fully furnished basement with amenities that include a smaller lap pool and a steam room. He shows me the workout area down there before taking me up into the library wing.

  “These shelves are yours,” he explains, gesturing to a section filled with novels similar to the ones my mysterious benefactor used to leave in my room. “I suggest you start with that shelf, as it will continue where you’ve left off in your training.”

  Training? I repeat to myself, but Master Kaiden is already moving again, this time toward a staircase at the back of the library that extends two flights upward. He opens the door at the top to reveal a corridor of doors that he explains lead to the various suites on this level.

  We pass two staff members along the way, both of whom bow with a smile—something I note is very different from Warren’s estate. His house members never smiled. Most of them reminded me of timid mice.

  “This is our room,” Master Kaiden concludes, pushing through a dark wood door to reveal a seating area framed by windows and a balcony that overlooks the beach below. A door at the opposite side of the room leads to a bedroom adorned in gray silks and white bedding.

  I hate white sheets. They don’t hide the blood.

  He presses his palm to my lower back, guiding me toward the bed. It seems the pleasantries are done. At least he tried. It was more than Warren did on our wedding night. He just told me to strip, then he let all his groomsmen play with me for the night while he watched.

  All of them except Master Kaiden, anyway.

  I recall now the disappointment I felt when he didn’t join. Mostly because the notion of him touching me had never displeased me. Just as it doesn’t now.

  We stop beside the bed, and he turns me to face him. Then he gently moves my dark hair away from my neck and bends to kiss my pulse, his familiar scent comforting and warm.

  “I’ve waited for this night for so long,” he breathes against my neck. “You have no idea how patient I’ve been, Camilla.”

  His palms find my hips, his lips skimming upward to nibble my jaw on his way to my mouth.

  I close my eyes, allowing myself to fall into my safe place where no one can touch me, only his teeth drag me back to the present with a sharp pinch to my lower lip. I yelp and he growls. Then his tongue glides across the wound while his eyes hold mine.

  It stings.

  But it also… burns.

  I swallow, conflicted by the pain-induced pleasure.

  He watches me intently, his pupils darkening as he licks me once more. A quiver works down my spine, and he smiles. “We’re going to have so much fun together, sweet beauty.”

  It’s a threat and a promise wrapped up in a single statement. One he punctuates by taking my mouth with his and slipping his tongue inside.

  My heart stops. Oh…

  I’ve dreamt of kissing this man hundreds of times. And all those fantasies combined pale in comparison to the reality of Kaiden Graves.

  He’s… perfection. Each stroke is measured and pure. His pace is slow, thorough, divine. And his hands caress me in time with his mouth.

  Heat blazes across my skin. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It’s passionate and sensual and underlined in promise.

  I curl into him on impulse, wrongly craving more while secretly wishing he would stop. But he doesn’t. Instead, he deepens the embrace, his tongue growing more powerful inside my mouth and dominating me from the inside out.

  I’m losing myself to him. I can feel the vestiges of my sanity leaving, replaced by a fantasy that shouldn’t be real.

  This is the wedding night I always craved.

  The life I’ve secretly fantasized about behind closed doors.

  It may only be for an evening, but a sick and twisted part of me accepts that.

  I want him. I’ve always wanted him.

  And he’s my husband now.

  Because Warren is dead and Master Kaiden is very much alive.

  Perhaps this is all a dream. If it is, I never want to wake up. I just want to feel. To not think. To indulge. To enjoy.

  His grip tightens around my hips, his body hard and hot against mine. He’s pulling me under a wave of masculinity and grace, intoxicating me with his woodsy cologne and domineering presence.

  “That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Let me give you what you need.”

  I whimper, unsure of what that means, but agreeing nonetheless. He renews the passion between our mouths while one hand ventures up my side to the center of my back. Cool air touches my spine as he slowly pulls my zipper down, removing the dress I’d put on for Warren this morning.

  There’s nothing beneath—a rule in his house.

  That knowledge should frighten me. But all it does is draw goose bumps down my arms as the fabric pools against my waist.

  He doesn’t stop to play, instead finishing the task of removing my dress to leave me clad in nothing but a pair of heels before him. Then he draws back to admire the view, his pupils flaring with interest as he studies my curves. “Get on the bed,” he demands. “And spread your legs.”

  I’m only mildly disappointed that our foreplay is done. Mostly because, in my mind, I fantasized about a great deal more. But I do as he asks and feel my thighs slickening in readiness as he goes to remove his suit jacket. His tie is next. Then he slowly unbuttons his shirt, displaying a sliver of tan skin with each seductive inch. And my mouth goes dry at what rests beneath the fabric.

  He definitely uses that gym downstairs.

  Warren wasn’t necessarily fat, but he wasn’t cut like this.

  Master Kaiden is all sharp angles and lines that go from the little muscles on his hips all the way up to his sturdy jawline.

  He’s a beautiful specimen of a man, making me wonder why he needs to claim an Elite Bride when he could have his pick of any female he desires.

  His hand goes to his belt, slowly threading the leather through the loops before he drops the item to the floor. Then he kicks off his shoes and walks over to a dresser along his wall.

  Toys, I think, my stomach tightening with dread.

  So many of these men enjoy torment and pain, and I have no doubt he…

  I blink as he turns around, holding one of my favorite scarves. A scarf that should be in my dresser in Warren’s home. But it went missing a few weeks ago.

  Because Master Kaiden took it, I realize. I’ve always suspected him of being in my room. But now I know it’s true. And the look he gives me confirms it, too.

  “Hands above your head,” he says as he returns to the bed.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I comply.

  He’s doing this on purpose.

  It’s a scene from a book I read… a book I now know he gave me. Which is why he mentioned my training. “You know which book is my favorite,” I whisper, phrasing it not as a question but as a statement. Because not only did he give me the books, but he also knows which ones I read most.

  And I know this because of the scarf.

  “I do, Camilla,” he replies, his voice equally soft as he secures my wrists with the scarf against the headboard. “Just as I know what you like to do after reading it.” His green eyes ooze sin and wicked intent.

  I swallow. “You watch me.”

  “Every day and night,” he confirms as he traces my jaw with a single finger.

  “The creams and salts were from you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And all the books.”

  “Of course,” he replies.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re mine, little beauty,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips. “And now I’m going to show you what that means.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kaiden

  My Camilla is so smart. She has it all figured out. And rather than scream, she just stares at me with worship in her eyes. Just as she should.

  I took care of her when she
was hurt.

  I ensured she had what she needed to recover.

  And I provided her with the tools required to teach her how to be mine.

  Now she’s pliant and naked and beautiful in my bed.

  Tied up and ready for me to unwrap.

  Yet all I can do is stare.

  Her nipples are beaded and waiting for my mouth. Her pussy is glistening with interest. Her thighs are coated in her need. She’s a delectable sight. Gorgeous, yearning, and mine.

  “Mmm,” I hum, debating where to touch her first. “Perhaps we should start with my rules.” I bend to retrieve my tie while Camilla trembles on the bed. I know what she thinks I’m about to say. Warren gave her rules during their first night together. But his were in regard to how to pleasure his friends.

  Mine are about how to satisfy both of us.

  I slide my tie along her ankle, over the dainty strap of her heels—which she left on—and up her shapely calf.

  “Rule number one,” I murmur as the silk meets the side of her knee. “I own you.” I draw the material higher, tracing her inner thigh and leaving a trail of goose bumps in my wake.

  She quivers once more, my words ones she’s used to hearing from my brother. But I mean them in an entirely different way.

  “Ownership requires a great deal of intelligence and care,” I continue. “I need to be in tune with your body at all times, aware of your pains and pleasures, and ensure you’re well guarded and worshipped in the process.”

  Wariness and intrigue war for purpose in her pretty blue eyes. The latter begins to win out as I glide the silk across her shaved mound.

  “Communication will be key between us, little beauty,” I say softly. “While my observations have allowed me to surmise several of your limits, there will be more I want to test, and I’ll rely on you to tell me if I’ve gone too far.”

  My touch moves upward over her flat stomach to her generous tits. I smile as her breathing increases, her anticipation mingling with fear to provide the most alluring sight I’ve ever seen in my bed.

  Of course, she’s the first female I’ve invited into my personal quarters. All my other conquests entertained me in hotels or guest suites. But Camilla isn’t like them. She’s my intended. My partner. My future. I tell her that with my eyes as I gently brush one of her nipples with the edge of my tie. She sucks in a breath, her skin incredibly sensitive and pebbling with need.