by Zavarelli, A
He gave me a savage kiss before flipping me onto my knees. He peeled my hands out from beneath me and curled them around the back of the lounge.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, gripping my hips as he adjusted himself behind me.
He smeared my arousal over his cock and glided it against my folds, teasing the swollen flesh as he eased just the head of himself inside.
“How is it possible?” he groaned. “How do you get so wet for a monster like me?”
“You’re not a monster,” I protested, my knuckles white as I waited for what I needed. For him to fill me. Complete me.
He buried himself inside of me in one deep stroke, and I let out a soft mew as I tried to hold still.
“Oh but I am,” he growled, gripping a handful of my hair in his hand and tugging on it. “I want to hurt you. I want to do all sorts of depraved things to you, Brighton. Simply because I can.”
He was trying to push me away again. But I wasn’t going to let him.
“I like the depraved things you do to me,” I whispered. “I like the way you fuck me.”
“Good,” he snarled. “Because right now, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”
I whimpered as he slammed into me, nearly making my body crumple upon the impact.
“Harder,” I challenged.
Ryland grunted and pulled my arms behind my back. He gripped me by the chin as every thrust reverberated through my entire body. His hand threaded through my hair, twisting my neck until his mouth could claim mine.
“Is that hard enough for you?” he nipped at my lip.
“More…” I insisted. “Do every dark thing you say you want to,” I implored. “I want to give it all to you.”
His cock pulsed inside of me at my words, and his hands tugged on each of my nipples in response.
“Anything I want?” he questioned.
“Yes!”
“So if I were to walk out there and bring another woman in here…”
I jerked away from him and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.
“Fuck you!” I spat. “Fuck you, Ryland!”
He pulled me back into his arms with a hungry smile. “That’s what I want,” he soothed me with a kiss. “That possession, that fire. Knowing you would never share me with anyone else gets me harder than you could ever imagine, Brighton.”
As if to prove his point, he wrapped my hand around his cock, allowing me to feel the weight of his arousal. I stroked him several times over, even though I was still pissed about his little comment.
“Don’t ever say anything like that again,” I warned. “I won’t share you, Ryland, so if you ever get even the faintest idea…”
His lips smashed against mine desperately. He lifted me up in his arms like a limp ragdoll and threw my legs over his forearms, entering me in one thrust. My body nearly folded in half as he proceeded to fuck me.
“I don’t want anybody else but you,” he grunted. “Nobody else but you, Brighton.”
As the sentence left his mouth, he exploded inside of me, milking his release out over the course of several deep thrusts.
He set me back down on the couch, handing me some napkins to clean myself before he attended to himself. I did so quickly before trying to right the mess that was now my expensive dress. Ryland helped, smoothing the material back up over my breasts with a relaxed expression on his face.
I leaned forward and took a sip of my champagne while I finger combed my hair back into place.
“Are you upset with me?” he leaned back against the sofa and watched me carefully.
I turned towards him and shook my head. It probably wasn’t as convincing as I’d hoped. I didn’t like the spark of jealousy I felt when I thought about him wanting anyone else, but I couldn’t control it either.
“Come here,” he ordered.
I obeyed him without question. It was becoming a habit.
Once I was close enough, he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “I like to push you. To see the darkness that’s inside of you too.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” I admitted. “It confuses me sometimes.”
“Because you shouldn’t feel this way about me,” he supplied.
I shrugged because it was the truth. I shouldn’t feel this way about him. Based on the secrets that founded this bond, I feared it would all come toppling down around me any day now. Just as he kept trying to tell me.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he replied, “I never intended to feel anything about you either, Brighton.”
“So it was only about the agreement to you.” My voice was heavy with defeat.
“Five years ago, yes. But not now. Not since the first time I slid inside of you, claiming you as my own. I think about it all the time. About that moment.”
“You do?” I looked up at him in surprise.
“Of course,” he continued. “When you’re not with me and I’m left to my own devices, what else am I supposed to do? When you told me you wished it was me…. God, I’ve rubbed myself raw replaying that moment in my mind.”
“You think of me when you pleasure yourself?” I asked.
“Of course I do.” He shot me an impish look. “I think about the way your perfect tits fit into the palms of my hands, or the way your hair spills down your back when I’m fucking you from behind. How tight your ass was the first time I took you there. The marks I left on your back, I think about those all the time, baby girl. All. The. Fucking. Time.”
His voice grew more excited as he spoke, and my heart did a little flip in my chest.
“What do you think about?” he asked.
I tried to look away, but he turned my chin back towards him.
“Sometimes, I think about the first time you… went down on me. I never thought I would enjoy something like that, it felt so strange…”
A smug grin tugged at his lips and he kissed me again as his fingers trailed down my cheek. “I love your innocence.”
“So you’ve said,” I retorted.
“Are you hungry?”
I smiled. “I am now.”
“Good. Because I have a craving for something sweet.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When we finally stood up to leave, I’d tasted more dessert than I cared to remember.
Ryland ushered me towards the front door, looking as well put together as we came. I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes this time, secretly wondering if they’d all heard our escapades inside the private room.
When we stepped onto the curb, confusion hit me when the blinding light went off in my face. But after it happened several more times, I recognized it as the flash of cameras. A group of paparazzi swarmed us as Ryland pulled me against his side, asking question after endless question.
I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying, but Ryland wasn’t ruffled in the slightest as he fired off several responses. I heard my name, and the term girlfriend thrown in alongside it.
The valet pulled up in his Jaguar, and Ryland safely deposited me inside before he climbed into the driver’s seat.
When we pulled away from the curb, I turned towards him in disbelief.
“What the hell was that?”
“What?” he asked shamelessly.
“You set that up!”
“So what if I did?” he shrugged. “I want the world to know that you belong to me now.”
“You mean you want my family to know,” I said. “You want Brayden to know. Now that he’s getting out.”
He shot me a look that told me I was dead on. The familiar jealousy and resentment that always lingered whenever I mentioned Brayden’s name flared in his eyes.
“Take me back to my apartment,” I demanded.
He looked as if he didn’t understand what the problem was, infuriating me further.
“That’s not our agreement…” he stated flatly.
“I don’t care. You can’t just do stuff like this without talking to me. You say you want a relationship with me, but that would require you to care about how I feel.”
“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” he said.
“Well, it doesn’t feel like it right now. I don’t even know which way is up with you anymore. One minute you’re pushing me away, and the next you’re trying to pull me back. I just… I need a night to myself. Can you let me have that, please?”
Ryland clamped his mouth shut and left me to stew in my anger and confusion for the rest of the drive. I didn’t understand why things always had to be this way with him. Why he hated Brayden so much, or how I could even allow myself to care for someone who felt that way about my brother.
When he escorted me to the door, I paused in front of it, unsure what else to say.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” I assured him.
“Are you ashamed of me?” he asked. “Is that it?”
There was anger in his voice, but vulnerability in his eyes.
“Ryland…”
“You said it yourself,” he interrupted. “You know you shouldn’t feel this way about me. Is that why you don’t want people to know?”
“It’s not that I don’t want them to know,” I softened my tone, taking a step closer and wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s that I’d like the chance to explain first before you go and do something like this. Why on earth would I ever be ashamed of you? If anything, it’s you who should be ashamed of me.”
“Don’t ever say that,” he snapped. “You’re perfect.”
He smoothed his palm over my cheek, his blue eyes growing cloudy as he searched my face.
“Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “This is the path I set out for myself, but I know I’m hurting you…”
I glanced up at him, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. But he stopped himself short and pulled away.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “It would be better if we spent the night apart.”
When the words were reversed on me, I could see how much they stung, even if that wasn’t his intention. It was my idea, but now there was distance between us, and I didn’t like it. I thought he was on the verge of confessing the truth to me, and now he was withdrawing back into himself.
“Ryland…” I reached for him, but he walked away.
“Get some sleep, Brighton,” he said. “I’ll see you at work.”
***
“This is insane,” I sobbed, pacing back and forth across the living room. My shaky hands scoured through page after endless page of photographs from the night before.
Photographs of Ryland and I in our ‘private room’ at the members-only club. Of me sitting on his lap while he fed me chocolate cake. Of our lips locked in a tangle of passion. And the worst, of me half-naked in his arms while he caressed my body. They’d blurred them out for the public, but it didn’t change the fact that someone was watching us while we were in there.
The banging on the front door resumed, and Nicole looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown from the stress. When she’d heard Ryland demanding to speak to me, she didn’t even register surprise. But she did seem to be worrying herself sick at the rising anger in his voice.
“I don’t think I can hold him off much longer,” she eyed the entryway wearily.
“It’s fine, Nicole,” I said. “I’ll tell him myself.”
I stomped over to the door and edged it open, careful to show I had no intention of inviting him in. But true to Ryland’s nature, he barged in anyway, crushing me against his chest as I tried to fight him off.
“I didn’t do this,” he swore. “Those photos were from a member, and as soon as I find out who…”
“I don’t give a shit!” I pulled away from him. “This is your fault! I’m half naked on every gossip rag from here to New York, and it’s all because of you.”
He flinched at my words and sank onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. Now that I looked at him, I could see how upset he really was. All morning I’d been thinking this only affected me. That Ryland wouldn’t care. But it was there on his face. The guilt weighed heavily on him, and I’d never seen him look so lost.
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t arranged for it to go this far. The articles stated clear as day the source was another member of the club. And if I was being honest with myself, I could have stopped him last night. But I chose to fool around in a public place, and now I was paying the consequences.
Seeing my weakness, he reached out and held his hand towards me, imploring me to take it. The moment my fingers touched his, he pulled me against him, laying his head against my belly as he circled his arms around my waist.
“I would never intentionally let anyone see you that way,” he declared. “You have to believe that, baby girl.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But what’s done is done. I won’t even be able to show my face at work again. God, what am I going to do?”
“I’m taking care of the situation,” he assured me. “I have my lawyers handling everything. They are going to get those photos back. No matter what it costs. And you don’t have to come back to the office. I will take care of you, whatever you need.”
His words surprised me, and for a moment I tried to see the hidden motivation behind his offer. But I was so sick of playing this game. Of constantly trying to see the truth behind all the walls he erected to keep me out. And I was much too proud of a person to take him up on that offer anyway.
“I can’t do that.” I shook my head miserably. “I need to work, but this is just so humiliating.”
“Nobody’s going to say anything to you,” Nicole spoke from behind me. “I’ll make sure of it, Brighton.”
***
Nicole offered to take me to her yoga class that evening, claiming it would help soothe my frazzled nerves. Between that and the bottle of wine we drank when we stopped for dinner on the way home, it kind of did.
The minute we got back to the apartment, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Ryland, looking even more exhausted than he was this morning. His usually perfect hair was messy, and even his shirt was wrinkled. He’d been battling with the media all day.
“I know you probably want to spend the night alone,” he said softly. “But I wanted to show you something.”
I took his outstretched hand without a fight. “What is it?”
“It’s in my apartment.”
I followed him down the hall and onto the elevator, sensing his nerves growing with each floor we passed. When we arrived at his door, he led me inside and straight towards one of the spare bedrooms.
“This isn’t me trying to fix things,” he said, “but if it helps, then I’m okay with that.”
“What are you talking about?”
He pushed open the door and ushered me inside, his entire body tensing as I took in the sight before me.
Stacked against one of the walls were rows of shelving that had been custom built. Swatches and entire rolls of different colored fabrics burst from every storage bin and cupboard as far as the eye could see.
As if drawn to them by a magnet, I walked over and ran my hands along the different textures of silks and polyesters, cottons and rayons. Top of the line shears and measuring tools adorned the desk in front of me, along with patterns of every imaginable type. Books and DVDS, magazines and fashion show swag. The room had it all.
And right smack dab in the middle of it was a vintage Singer 201. I trembled as I reached out to touch it. It was so beautiful it could even give Ryland’s Jaguar a run for its money.
“Do you like it?”
I glanced up and watched the tension drain from his face when a smile broke out across mine.
“Are you kidding me? This is amazing. Where did you even find one of these?”
“It’s an… heirloom,” he said quietly. “B
ut I thought you would put it to good use.”
“Ryland…” Tears blurred my eyes, and I couldn’t stop a few from leaking out. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I don’t even know what to say.”
“I’ve been thinking about it.” He took a step towards me. “I’d like you to spend more time here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Ideally, you’d be in my bed every night,” he said. “And this way you have a place here that feels like your own.”
“Are you asking me to move in with you?” My voice was weird. Super high pitched and squeaky.
“Yes.” He stepped closer.
“So this is part of the agreement?” I clarified.
“Technically, no.” He brought my hand to his face and splayed it across his cheek. “I’d like you to want to be here if that’s possible.”
There was that vulnerability again. I chewed my lip while I started to pace around the room. I didn’t understand him. How could he want these things with me, but not admit how he felt? It was confusing, and after the day I’d had, it was too much. Still, I couldn’t say I wasn’t tempted by the offer.
“You do realize how messy I am, right?”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Are you kidding me?” I laughed. “I’ve seen the way you like things, Ryland. Everything has its perfect little place. This sewing room, my space, it won’t be like that. I’m not joking. I will probably drive you crazy."
“You already do.” His lips tilted up at the corners. “But the messes don’t bother me when they’re yours. It makes the place feel… lived in.”
I continued to pace until he pulled me back into his arms with a sigh.
“You don’t have to decide today,” he relented. “But think about it.”
“Wow.” I smiled. “Who are you and what have you done with Ryland?”
He smiled too, and some of the tension between us broke as he kissed me on the temple.
“I’m trying,” he said. “For you.”