When I don’t say anything, she reaches down and grabs her dress at the thighs and pulls it up. I reach out and help her get out of it.
“Will you take a shower with me?” she asks softly.
I nod and go over to open the shower door and turn it on. I hold it open for her, and she walks past me to enter, and my chest tightens when I look at her ass and thighs. Red marks run across them from where I took the belt to her flawless skin. Ten strikes. And I hate to admit that they made me hard. That I liked the way she cried. The way she panted and how I marked her. Guess I could argue that I’m just as fucked up as she is.
I enter and shut the door. She walks under the sprayer, hissing in a breath and stepping back away from it. Her eyes meet mine, and fresh tears form from the pain.
I should tell her that I’m sorry, but my eyes land on her bare breasts. All she wears is the collar around her neck. I place my hands on her tits, and she hisses in a breath for a new reason. “I wanna fuck you so bad, Bunny,” I admit shamelessly. If she can admit she liked the way I hit her, I can admit that I still fucking want her.
She places her hand around the base of my hard cock. “Then fuck me, Avery.”
My eyes search hers. They glisten with her tears. “It’ll hurt. Your ass …”
“Good.” Her hand runs up and down the length of my dick, and I groan, leaning forward to place my face in the crook of her neck. “Hurt me,” she whispers. “I want you to hurt me, Avery. Please,” she begs as her hand picks up its pace.
I grab her hand from my cock and slam her back against the cold tile wall. She lets out a sob when her ass and thighs hit the unforgiving surface. I then pin both of her hands above her head, and my free hand goes between her legs. She spreads them the best she can for me, and I thrust a finger into her soaked pussy, immediately adding another one.
She sucks in a ragged breath, and her head falls back into the wall. “Please let me come.”
“I’m not sure I want you to,” I say honestly, even if she has earned it.
She whimpers. “I need it.”
Fuck, she just needs to be used! She has become my perfect little slave without even knowing it. “What are you going to do for it?” I ask.
“Anything,” she answers desperately.
As I pull away from her, she sags against the wall. “To your knees.”
She does and flinches due to the kneeling position, making her ass and thighs stretch the already sensitive skin. “Open your mouth, Bunny,” I order, taking my cock in my hand. She obeys, looking up at me. And I press myself between her lips. “Touch yourself,” I tell her, and she almost sobs around my cock that I gave her permission to play with her pussy. “But don’t come,” I tell her, and she whimpers. “I’m gonna do that.”
I push my hips forward, and she takes me while her fingers work between her parted thighs. My hand slides into her hair, and I grip it tightly as I fuck her mouth like I’ve been wanting to do for days. Hard and fast.
It doesn’t take me long to come with her name on my lips, and she pulls back after swallowing. Her breathing ragged.
I grab her arms and yank her to her feet, and her body trembles with need as she removes her fingers from her pussy.
I push her back against the wall, my hands going between her legs, and I give her exactly what she wants.
_______________
I wake to a phone ringing. I grab my cell off the nightstand, pulling away from a sleeping Bunny. “Hello?” I ask roughly.
“We have a problem,” my brother greets me.
“What is it?”
“Seems I wasn’t the only one who saw that video, and now Damon wants her even more.”
“Fuck!” I groan.
“He offered three million for her.”
“She’s not for sale,” I snap.
“I know that,” Tristan says, and I can hear him rolling his eyes. “But to them, she’s a slave.”
I run a hand through my hair.
“We knew this was a possibility.”
“No,” I snap, standing from the bed and glancing over at her to make sure she is still asleep. “We knew he wanted her after Preston was running his mouth. What I did was supposed to make everyone realize she belonged to me.”
He lets out a long breath. “I don’t know what to tell you, man, except get her back to Vancouver. Or you could hand her over—”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” I shout, interrupting him.
“Use her as bait,” he replies calmly. “When you hand her over, we’ll intervene, then take him down.”
“Too risky.”
“It’s an option.”
“No, it’s not. Don’t suggest it again, Tristan!” I growl.
“Look, man. I love you, and you know I always liked Presleigh, but you’re in too deep. I told you this would happen. That you couldn’t handle her. Now they’ve seen her firsthand and liked how she got off on you hitting her.”
“Watch it,” I warn him.
“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for you, Avery,” he snaps. “She liked the way you hit her. Even I could see it …”
“Shut up!” I roar into the phone.
PRESLEIGH
I wake up and bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out from the pain on my backside. Slowly sitting up in bed, I see Avery on his phone. His back tense while he barks into his cell. He pulls it away from his ear and hangs up as I hear a voice still talking but not loud enough to make out what they are saying.
His hand falls to his side, and he turns around to come back to bed but stops when his eyes meet mine. “What’s wrong?” I ask when he just stares at me.
“Nothing,” he growls.
“You’re lying.”
He tosses his phone onto his nightstand and then crawls in next to me. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“Now you’re lying,” he snaps back, and I frown.
“Avery …”
He jumps on top of me, pinning me down on the mattress. I hiss in a breath when my sensitive skin rubs against the sheets. He reaches down, hooking his finger into my collar—the only thing I’m wearing—and yanks my head off the pillow by it. He lowers his head, drilling his blue eyes into mine. “Who do you belong to, Bunny?”
“You,” I say without thought.
“Whose slave are you?”
My eyes narrow on his. “No one’s.”
He lets go of my hook and slaps me. And just like before, wetness pools between my legs at the sting. “Wrong answer.”
My lips part, and my breathing hitches.
“Whose slave are you?” he asks again.
I take a deep breath. “No one’s.”
“Bunny, I won’t ask you again.”
My anger for him grows even though my body tingles. “What are you going to do to me? Slap me? Whip me?” I snap. “Do your worse, Avery. I will never call myself your slave.” I won’t do it. Not for him. Not for anyone.
His phone starts ringing, and he groans. “Goddammit.”
“What is wrong?” I ask, truly worried about him.
He ignores my question, and his eyes fall to the collar around my neck. “You are never to take this off. I’m gonna put a lock on the back and throw away the key. And hook a leash to it. You will go everywhere I go. And everyone will know you belong to me.”
“You are talking crazy,” I say breathlessly. The fact he never wants to let me go has my heart pounding. I’ve got to get away from him. My life depends on it.
“You make me crazy,” he snaps.
“Avery…” I place my hand on his face, but he pins them both down by my head, and my pussy begins to throb.
“You are my slave, Bunny. You always have been and always will be. It’d be best if you remember that.” His words are spoken evenly, but a fire burns in his dark blue eyes.
“Stop calling me that!” I snap. “I’m not a slave, Avery. I’m a person.”
“Not anymore,” he states simply, and it makes my stomach dr
op at the coldness in his tone. “You are my property. My trophy.” He lowers his lips down to mine, but not close enough to touch. “And I will do with you whatever I please.”
His phone rings again, and with a growl, he gets up and answers it. “Hello?” he snaps.
I sit up and watch him pace back and forth, running his hand through his hair. “I appreciate the offer, but the answer is no.” He comes to a stop, and his eyes lock with mine. “Is that so?” he asks slowly, and my heart picks up, wondering what he is talking about. “Well, you were misinformed,” he assures whoever is on the other line. Then he hangs up without saying goodbye. Before he puts his phone on the nightstand once again, he powers it down completely. Then he walks into the closet. He returns with rope dangling from his right hand, and I know he intends to use it on me. Possibly punish me. But I don’t care what he plans on doing because I will never tell him or anyone else that I am his slave. I can’t voice those words out loud. I fought too long to escape that world. I won’t allow him to drag me back in.
_______________
I stand in the foyer of his house in where I now know is Rio with the same black duffel bag by my feet. Darrell stands to my right, and Avery faces me. “It’ll only be a couple of days. Max,” he says, running a hand through his hair. He is still on edge. Whatever that phone call was about last night was not good. Even after we fucked, he turned distant and left me alone in his bed. I don’t know where he went or what he did, but I ended up passing out. I woke to him crawling in bed with me to fuck me again this morning.
“Then why can’t I stay here with you?” I ask. I’ve spent my entire time trying to get away from him, but now I don’t want to be without him. Just like when I was a teenager, I’m starting to depend on him again. I have a feeling this was his plan all along.
“Bunny—” He growls.
“Please?” I interrupt him. “It’s just one more day.” I don’t want to have to take a plane ride to who knows where with Darrell.
“I said no!” he roars, fisting his hands down by his side. “And that is fucking final. Get your ass outside and in that fucking car before I make you!”
I spin around and exit the front door, making sure to slam it in Darrell’s face when he turns to follow me. I hear him let out a curse and then yank the door open. I walk down to the black Town Car and get in the back seat, tossing my bag over to the seat beside me. And I wait.
Darrell gets in and starts it up after Kayn crawls into the passenger seat. At least he is here with me. I look over at the house to see if Avery is watching us leave. He’s nowhere in sight.
We pull up to the private airport, and I’m guessing it’s Avery’s private jet that sits there looking sleek and expensive, but it makes my heart rate speed up. I lick my lips nervously, and my hands starts to sweat. How could he not come with me? Or not let me stay? He knows I hate flying.
“Let’s go,” Darrell snaps.
I see he is holding my back door open. Kayn is already walking onto the plane. I slide against the black leather and get out on shaky legs.
I walk up the steps to the plane, and it feels as if I’m walking the plank to my death.
I come to the top and step onto the plane. It seems too small. The ceiling too low. The aisle too narrow. The air too stuffy.
My breathing picks up. “Move it, Presleigh,” Darrell orders from behind me. When I don’t obey, he shoves me forward.
My legs wobble, and I fall to my knees. “Goddammit.” He sighs. Then I feel his hand in my hair. I scream out as he drags me by my hair down the aisle. My body hitting a seat here and there.
He kicks the door open to a small bedroom at the end and tosses me onto the bed. Then he’s on top of me. I scream bloody murder while clawing at his skin and shirt. Anything that I can get a hold of. He grunts but manages to flip me over onto my stomach, then pins my hands behind my back with one hand. And I buck wildly, not giving up. Then I feel a prick in my neck.
“Nooo.” I choke out the word. He drugged me.
I feel his weight on me as he leans over my back and whispers in my ear, “No chance of stabbing me this time, bitch. I gave you a little extra.”
My eyes grow heavy. My breath starts to even out. I stop fighting and my body physically relaxes under him.
His weight is then gone, and I hear the door shut as my eyes close.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AVERY
“HOW DID SHE DO?” I ask Kayn on the other end of the phone.
“It was a rough start. She freaked out once we got to the plane. But Darrell took care of it.”
“How did he take care of it?” I snap.
“He drugged her,”
My chest tightens. She probably fought him. And he probably had to hurt her. “Good,” I say, knowing that at least he got the job done. She would have been a ball of nerves if she had to stay awake for the flight.
“We’re just pulling back up at the house. I’m gonna get them all inside and settled, and then I’ll be on my way back to get you, sir.”
I hang up and take a drink of my scotch, standing in my living room in Rio. The burning fireplace provides the only light in the room as I think over what I am about to do. I had to send Bunny away because she’s unpredictable. I need to have complete control of this dinner. I could have let her stay. I could have tied her hands behind her back, put a blindfold over her eyes, and a gag in her mouth while making her kneel beside me at the table. But what if she moaned? What if her nipples had gotten hard? What if he liked her more in person than when he saw her on the video?
All too risky. She had to leave.
“Sir?” I hear Marvin enter the room behind me. “Dinner is ready. And your guest just pulled into the drive.”
I take another drink. “Thank you, Marvin.”
Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text to my brother. He’s here. And then slip it back into my pocket. Usually for a meeting like this, I would not allow my best men to leave me alone, but I felt Bunny needed the support more than I did. Plus, my brother is just right outside with ten of his own men. The house is surrounded.
Taking another drink of my scotch, I smile over the rim. We’ve been trying to find this man for years. And thanks to Bunny, he’s willingly walking right into my home. I’m gonna give her an endless amount of orgasms as soon as I see her. She has earned them, after all.
I sit at the head of the table when Marvin enters once again. A man dressed in a three-piece charcoal gray suit stands next to him. His silver hair is combed to the side to hide the fact he’s balding. The buttons on his button-down strain from his stomach, and he wears a smile that makes even the villain look like a hero.
I stand and reach out my right hand. He can come to me. “Damon. I’m surprised you were able to meet me on such short notice.”
“I was in the neighborhood,” he says, shaking my hand.
We both know he was in Cuba when he called me last night after I spoke to my brother on the phone. “Please, have a seat.” I gesture to the one across from me, and he takes it. His black eyes look around the table at all the empty chairs, and then his eyes fall to the floor beside me.
“Where is your slave?”
That, right there, is why I made Bunny leave. She would have ruined everything. “She won’t be joining us tonight.”
His black eyes narrow on me. “I thought this was a business meeting?”
“It is.”
“Then why is the merchandise not here?” he snaps.
My jaw tightens, but I hide it quickly. “She is a little tied up right now,” I lie.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and the corner of his eyes crinkle. “That I would love to see.”
I grab my fork and wish I could stab him like Bunny stabbed Darrell. Only I’d stab him in the eye. Over and over.
“Why do you want my slave?” I come out and ask.
He places his silverware down, no longer interested in the food that Marvin spent three hours cooking. “Her brother
killed my brother. I think I am owed compensation.”
“Her brother?” I play stupid.
He nods once. “Preston. I hear you know him.”
“I do,” I say, lifting my glass of scotch and taking a drink.
“You guys grew up together.” He doesn’t ask, but I nod.
“I also shot him two weeks ago.” His brows lift in surprise. “The same time I bought his sister.”
He takes a drink of his scotch and sets it down. He folds his hands on the table. “I’ve been informed that you loved his sister. You guys were engaged once.”
“That was a long time ago,” I say tightly. Preston is running his mouth more than I knew.
“How long?”
“Eleven years.”
He sits back in his seat. “I’m not a man who loves, but I find it hard to believe that you loved this girl enough to marry her, and now she’s your slave.”
“People change.”
“How so?” he digs farther.
I take another drink of the scotch. “I have my reasons.” That’s all he’s gonna get from me.
“I see,” he says softly.
“I have a lot of unfinished business with her. And I don’t intend to sell her. No matter what the price is.”
“That’s a shame. I wanted to have the set,” he mutters before taking a drink.
I arch a brow. “What do you mean by the set?”
He smiles that smile that makes even my skin crawl and nods once. “I have her mother. I love having mothers and daughters.”
I stare at him, unable to keep the surprised look off my face. “Her mother is dead,” I say slowly.
He shakes his head. “She’s very much alive.”
I swallow. My throat all of a sudden dry. “You must be mistaken.” Her parents died when Presleigh was fifteen. Preston seventeen. I remember it very clearly because I worried about her for weeks afterward. She didn’t show much grief for either of them. She never was close to her dad. She hated that man, but I expected her to feel something for the loss of her mom. She closed off and shut me out for a while, but the breakdown I kept waiting for never came.
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