Irresistible Attraction (Merciless World Book 2)

by W Winters

  “Do you want me?” he asks, not letting anything change in his expression.

  With a single hard swallow, I answer him with raw truth, “Yes. More than anything else.”

  “Nothing else matters then.”

  “Not the debt? Not the fact that someone’s after me?” I feel my expression fall, the kind of crumpling that comes with an ugly cry, but I don’t give a shit, I let it out, I let it all out. “Not the fact that a part of me hates you because I hate what you do and that the life you lead is why my sister’s dead?” I’ll never be able to say those words without tears flooding my eyes. I don’t blink and a few tears fall, but I won’t cry after that. Crying does nothing.

  As I’m angrily wiping my tears away, I note his lack of a response and continue the onslaught. I ask him, “How much is it that I owe you again?”

  “I’m fucking tired of you asking me that. It’ll be months before you’ve paid the debt.”

  “The debt…” I whisper, sniffling and looking away thinking about how it’s her debt, not mine. But the thoughts vanish as I note how the restaurant is slowly thinning in attendance. It’s sobering, the sight around us.

  It’s not just thinning, everyone is leaving. There are only two couples left. And both are preparing to exit. The young woman glances at me as she pushes her chair in, her eyes wide with worry.

  “Jase.” I can only whisper his name as my pulse races with concern.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”

  Thump. Thump. Thump. It’s like a war drum. I whisper the question, “What did you do?”

  Leaning forward, he places his forearms on the table. His eyes darken as they sear into me. “I’ve let you get away with too much.”

  I can’t breathe, and I can’t move; even when I hear the door click loudly behind me and bringing with it utter silence, I don’t dare to do anything but stare into his eyes.

  They contain a mix of hunger and depravity. His hard jawline tightens as he clenches his teeth and lets his eyes roam down the front of me then back to my apprehensive gaze.

  “They couldn’t stay here any longer, because I need to punish you. You’ve known this was coming. I should have done it sooner.” Frustration and regret ring clear in his voice and guilt overrides my other emotions. “I take responsibility. You wouldn’t behave this way if I’d punished you like I should have.”

  The way he says punish evokes a mix of reactions from me. I heat with desire and longing, wanting him to take control so I can stop thinking, stop doing, and just obey and receive what he’s willing to give. The other reaction though comes from the knowledge of who this man is and how it will never change. Fear is ever present when he takes control.

  “There are consequences. And like I’ve said, you’ve gotten away with too much.”

  Jase

  With the door securely locked, I check to make sure the blinds have been lowered, and they have. Although the front door window is visible from this table, meaning someone could see if they dared to peek, but Seth is waiting outside and he’d take care of that problem before any prick would have the chance to see a damn thing.

  “Jase, I’m sorry.” Bethany’s voice wavers as she speaks, showing her fear. I wondered which side of her would take over. I was hoping it wouldn’t be this one. It makes everything more difficult, but she must be punished. This has to stop.

  “You aren’t. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t continue to defy me.” A deep inhale barely keeps me grounded as my temper flares. “You are the only one who has ever made me lose control like this. Do you know that?”

  “Jase, I don’t mean to,” she nearly whimpers with more than a hint of fear and finally glances away from me, toward the door.

  Her breathing is erratic and her fingers wrap around her silverware as if she’ll use it against me. She may do just that, my fiery girl, if I give her a reason.

  “Jase,” she says and whispers my name.

  “You’re scared?” I ask her.

  She hesitates to answer before closing her eyes and nodding. The fear is a constant. I’m not sure it’ll ever leave her and I can’t blame her.

  “You just said you trusted that I would never hurt you.” The pain inside of my chest is sharp like a knife, piercing and twisting, never stopping to offer a moment of relief. I’d bleed out here if I had to watch her paused in this moment, truly afraid that I’d hurt her. “I’m not going to hurt you, Bethany. This is a punishment that you can take. One that you obviously need.”

  “I’m scared,” she whispers.

  “Don’t be. Parts of it you may even enjoy.” That comment gets her attention. I keep her gaze to tell her, “I’m not going to let you get away with this shit any longer. You will be punished. Whether you’re upset or scared or otherwise. I should have already punished you.” At the word punish, she licks her lips. Her body will always betray her regardless of the brave front she puts on around me.

  “You’ve run from me, lied to me, stolen from me, raised a knife to me… And you thought I’d do nothing?” I question her. “How much did you think I’d let you get away with, cailín tine?”

  Using her nickname is what does it. I can feel the tension break, I can feel it warm and I notice how it melts around her. Her bottom lip drops, pouty and trembling, but her breathing has changed. No longer tense, but still quick with anticipation.

  I give her a moment, letting everything settle for her.

  “Still your cailín tine?” The Gaelic phrase sounds foreign on her tongue.

  “Of course,” I answer, reaching across the table to offer my hand and she still hesitates to reciprocate, but she does, setting her small hand in mine. Brushing my thumb across her wrist, I try to keep it soothing to calm her before the inevitable will happen. “I hate that it comes to this before you’ll let me in. Do you know that?”

  She exhales deeply before telling me, “I’m not exactly used to this. And I don’t exactly like it either.”

  “You don’t like what?”

  “Having to be accountable to someone like…”

  “To someone like me?” She only nods at my question until I narrow my gaze and pause the motion of my thumb against her pulse. “Yes,” she answers verbally.

  “Well I enjoy your company, Miss Fawn, and from what I gather, you enjoy mine.” Again she nods and this time whispers her yes along with it, nearly defiantly.

  “When you’re with someone, you have to make allowances for them. I have done my best to make allowances for you given this… situation.”

  “And I have not,” Beth speaks before the judgment can fall from my lips. “I realize I am difficult and…” she pauses, swallowing thickly before adding, “I do appreciate some things… I am just very aware of others that…”

  “That you will have to make certain allowances for,” I say, finishing her sentence for her with the only outcome I’ll allow. “Is that understood?”

  She nods and speaks simultaneously, “Yes.”

  Pulling my hand away from her, I let the warmth of her words – that she appreciates me, no matter how small a part of me -- flow through me, feeling my cock harden as I think about what I’m going to do to her. “This situation being new for you is no excuse. It’s new for me too.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asks breathlessly.

  “You’re going to need the rest of your wine.”

  I’m careful and calm as I stand up, pulling the chair back and unbuttoning my jacket.

  Her fingers linger on the glass but she doesn’t pick it up until I pick up my own glass, downing the full-bodied red I know she loves. It’s sweet and decadent, like her when she lets go and gives me control.

  I set the empty glass on the table behind us. The aftertaste is smooth and I focus on that as I calmly remove everything from our table one by one. The candle, the vase, the small plates and then the large one still littered with hors d’oeuvres I thought she’d enjoy.

  She doesn’t just calm down; that wou
ldn’t fit the woman she is. She’s intense and wrought with emotion. She feels everything in exaggerated stages.

  Every second that passes, the air gets hotter around us.

  Each breath she takes picks up its pace.

  After loosening my tie, I remove the last few pieces of silverware from the table, placing it easily on the table to our right.

  “Sit here.” My hand splays on the barren table in front of me. My palm is flat against the surface. “Right here,” I say and pat the table again, closer to the edge this time and although she’s slow, she obeys. Climbing onto the table, she’s fully clothed. The blush that creeps up her cheeks is an indication that she knows damn well she won’t be staying that way.

  “Come closer,” I command once she’s on all fours on top of the table and when she’s close enough, I position her body how I want it, feeling the race of adrenaline and desire run through my pulse.

  “Jase.” My name is merely lust wrapped in words that don’t matter. “I really am sorry.”

  “I have a question for you,” I say, and I don’t bother accepting or denying her apology. “Are you terrified of me? Or of what I could do to you?” I ask her, placing my forearms on the table on either side of her. She’s close to me, her luscious curves within reach. Her pouty lips near mine, ready to capture. But I don’t kiss her. Not yet.

  “Both,” she admits and I don’t blame her.

  “I’ve done terrible things in my life. It makes sense you’d be afraid,” I admit, feeling a crease in my forehead as her expression stays etched with concern. “But leading with fear is a bad move to make.”

  “I know,” she whispers just beneath her breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m angry, I’m lost and I’m terrified.”

  “I’ll be angry alongside you. I’ll find you a way. I’ll make sure there’s not a damn thing that will touch you. Nothing should scare you when you’re with me.” Reaching out, I cup her chin in my hand, feeling her smooth skin and continuing to caress her when she presses her cheek into my embrace. “Even me. I shouldn’t scare you.”

  “Knowing how much I want to be around you is terrifying in itself. Which is ridiculous, all things considered.” Her eyes open on her last point, her thick lashes barely revealing her eyes beneath them.

  With one leg on either side of me, I press my fingers against her pussy, through the fabric that separates our skin and she keeps her eyes on mine, but her head falls back just slightly.

  “Already hot,” I comment. “Are you already wet for me too?”

  She only nods and as I open my lips, moving closer to her to reprimand her for not answering verbally, she halts any inclination I have to do so.

  She kisses me first. Without warning. Surprised, I moan into her mouth, feeling my rigid cock twitch with need to be inside of her. This greedy woman who takes from me when no one else would dare to do so.

  “Even when you’re in trouble, you still defy me and take from me.”

  She only answers with the hint of smile.

  “You like to be the first to kiss, don’t you?” I ask her.

  “It’s my call.” I don’t bother to hide the smirk that lurks on my lips.

  I don’t bother to hide the lust either as I answer her, “It was going to happen anyway.”

  “I could have run, I could bite you, or deny you.”

  “Why would you?” I ask her with genuine curiosity, my lips just barely away from hers.

  “That’s what people do when they’re scared, Jase. You should know that by now.”

  Words catch in my throat, tightening it and warring with each other inside of me. “Strip” is the only one that manages to escape.

  “Jase.” I watch her swallow, I can even hear it before she tells me, “They’ll see. Anyone could see from the door.”

  “I don’t give a shit about anyone but you right now.”

  Words are lost to her as we stare into each other’s eyes until I tell her, “Any man who dared to look through that door would die.”

  Her breath hitches and her thighs tighten at my words.

  “Does that make you hot?” I ask her, feeling my own desire rising.

  She nods as she whispers yes. I allow my gaze to wander down her body, although it stops too soon as I focus on her breasts when she pulls her sweater over her head. Through the tank top underneath, I see her pebbled nipples.

  “Maybe he’d get a glimpse of you cumming with my lips between your legs.”

  Leaning in closer, I whisper in her ear as she pulls the straps of her tank top down, “What a way to die… for that to be the last thing he sees.”

  The exhale she releases is tempting, but I maintain control. I don’t touch her again as she peels off every bit of clothing and lies bared to me, pushing her bra off the table for it to fall carelessly on the floor below with its companions.

  Both of my hands grip her hips and I pull her closer to me. Keeping her gaze with mine, I lower my lips to her swollen nub and suck. With a single lick of her sweet cunt, I go back to her clit, sucking it until she’s letting those sweet sounds flow into the air.

  Her body rocks, her hands spear my hair. I love the way her nails scratch me as she gets closer and closer.

  I have to remind myself that this is a punishment. I can’t get lost in her.

  The moment her back arches and her bottom lip drops with a deep moan, I pull away from her, smacking the inside of her thigh to take her away from the edge of her forbidden fall.

  “No,” I tell her. With flushed cheeks, she stares back at me breathlessly and wordlessly. “You don’t get to cum tonight.”

  As she blinks away the haze of lust and confusion, my middle finger plays at her folds, spreading her arousal as I talk. “I will play with you, fuck you, and get myself off with the things I plan to do with you. But you will not cum.”

  All I can hear is her single breath before she nods.

  “Verbally.”

  “I understand.”

  Rewarding how easily she accepts the punishment, I plant a kiss on the bright red patch of skin on her inner thigh. And then another, traveling up her body, over the curve of her waist and then higher. Standing up and dragging my open-mouth kisses up her neck, I unbutton my pants, letting them and my boxers drop to the floor so I can stroke myself.

  “On your back,” I command her and pull my shirt over my head. She positions herself with her heels on the edge of the table and her back flat against the tabletop.

  She struggles not to lift her head and watch me as I undress entirely.

  I can’t resist toying with her breasts, plucking her nipples and pulling them back to bring those sweet sounds to leave her.

  Her pussy clenches around nothing. I watch her, hot and flushed, ready to be fucked. The taste of her and red wine still remain on my tongue.

  “You’re taking this punishment well,” I commend her and then pull her ass closer to me, nearly falling off the edge of the table.

  She starts to answer, but I grip her hips in my hand and slam myself inside her. Fuck, she feels too fucking good. I can’t close my eyes even though my body begs me to enjoy the rapture of pleasure fully and do so.

  Her neck arches and her eyes scrunch as her heat clenches around me. The table jostles with the thrust of my hips and her breasts sway as I fuck her. I’m careful not to allow her to enjoy herself fully.

  Her hands move to her breasts, her nipples barely peeking through her fingers as she gets close, inching her way toward her release.

  I pull out fully, instantly missing her warmth.

  She whimpers and struggles to stay still as I step back. It’s hard to keep my breathing controlled, even harder to do it again, fucking her relentlessly on the table and stopping just before she reaches her climax.

  The third time, I lower my body close to hers, feeling my skin heat and needing to be closer to her. She doesn’t kiss me when I bring my lips close to hers this time.

 
; She pushes her head back against the table, so I drag my teeth along her throat and up to the shell of her ear, loving how she moans even though she knows she’ll be left wanting yet again.

  “This is what a punishing fuck is,” I hiss as I pound into her again and stay buried deep inside of her as I almost lose myself in the moment. “I take all my pleasure,” I push the words through clenched teeth as I move myself slowly out of her and then slam all the way back in.

  A strangled cry leaves her and she drags her nails down my back. The mix of pleasure and pain nearly has me finding my release too soon. I’m not ready for it to be over though, not by a mile.

  “I get my pleasure, and you get nothing,” I whisper in her ear as the intensity of the pleasure stirring inside of me subsides. Only then am I able to pull away from her enough to look her in the eye.

  Daggers stare back at me, but not in anger. I can see the challenge clearly written on her face. My poor cailín tine has no idea how painful orgasm denial is. To be taken to the highest high each time, finding the edge of release so close, only to have it ripped away from you and the waves of pleasure yanked from you.

  “I dream about the noises you make when you get off. I want to hear those sounds over and over again,” I tell her and then recklessly fuck her, feeling the stir of my climax approaching in time with hers. Only to pull away at the last second.

  “No,” this time she whimpers and her body rolls to the side, wanting to get away. “Please,” she begs me, her face pained.

  “How can I reward either of us with that, when you don’t listen to me? When you fight me every step of the way?”

  She visibly swallows and tells me she’s sorry again. I’m not interested in an apology.

  I fuck her again, listening to the sound of me fucking her, of the table banging against the floor as my movements get stronger with my own needs taking over.

  I suck in a deep breath as I pull away again. She can’t resist touching herself, knowing it’s only a small touch she’ll need at this point and I grip her wrists, pulling them away and pinning them to the table.