A strand of her long, lovely hair escaped one of his fists and hit his stomach, then slid downward over his cock, tickling maddeningly, and finally stopped to bob back and forth as he fucked her face, sensuously brushing against his aching balls. Every hair on his body stood on end, and the tension in his hips and ass and lower back had his control coiled so tight it hurt. He panted and his dick pulsed hard in her mouth, and for a long moment he was caught in an aching static moment of frozen time, back arched, thighs taut.
She gave one last long hard pull with her mouth, sucking his fucking soul out of his cock.
His come burst from him, and the staggering amount of pleasure that came with it forced him to give a ragged cry he couldn’t control. But she wasn’t done. She sucked, worshipping, and he watched in aroused disgust as she swallowed every drop of come she coaxed from his balls. Lightheaded pleasure brought an erotic dizziness, as though he’d forgotten to breathe ten minutes ago, and only just remembered to start again.
No wonder men obsessed over this act. Before he even let her pull away he wanted more. Angrily, he tightened his hold on her hair, but in response she moaned around his cock, making it stiffen again before it even went limp. She’d trapped him – made him want her – and now she’d expect something in return. He had no idea how to bring a woman off, and as much as he wanted to explore her body, the fact that he didn’t know how to do anything with it made him feel stupid and foolish. He wasn’t a boy. He should know these things. How dare she put him in a position of owing her when he had no idea how to make things even again?
He pulled her off him, and they stared at each other – him angry, and her gaze a desperate plea. Both of her cheekbones had the harsh red imprint of his thumbs from where he’d taken control of her. The marks were brands of dishonor, proving what he was capable of if he let himself get carried away.
“Mister Leduc, I –”
In the distance the front door slammed.
The girl’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.
Damn. Sutton had said she was gone until tonight.
His heart shifted from thudding hard with his anger and release, to pounding with humiliation. He couldn’t let the others find them together. Not like this. It was wrong. Undignified. He was technically her employer. He was a thirty-year-old man perving on his young assistant, and he’d crossed the fucking line. As willing as she’d been in the beginning, he’d still held her still and forced his cock down her throat. He’d forced her and he wanted nothing more than to do it again.
“Get out,” he snapped.
“But –”
“Now. Before she comes looking for us.”
The girl rose from the hardwood with the grace of a dancer, and he watched her flee the room, his tie trailing from her wrists like a sad, tickertape tail. Hopefully she’d figure out how to free herself. He was too fucked up to touch her again.
Chapter Five
Even though Minnow worked side by side with Sutton in the kitchen, there was a silence and peace that came with the work. They’d prepared so many meals together that they moved around the space like ballerinas in frilly floral aprons, weaving around each other as if every move was choreographed.
As Sutton seasoned the meat, Minnow peeled and rinsed potatoes.
“So when I’m gone to visit my sister, don’t forget to check the leftovers,” Sutton reminded her for the second time. “They’re labeled, but they’ll need to be thrown out when they hit the best before date I put on them, or else Severin will eat them.”
“He claims to have an iron stomach.”
“Yes, then he gets sick and can’t figure out why. A day later he’s eating spoiled food again. If you see him eating anything with mold on it just slap it right out of his hand.”
Minnow laughed. “I doubt he’d take that kind of intervention from me.”
“Tell him ‘Sutton’s orders.’ Call me if he gives you a hard time.” The older woman looked at Minnow sidelong. “You seem to be able to handle him just fine.”
He’d gone back to mostly ignoring her, but at least he was more polite than before. Other than vague civility, he’d completely shut down. No covert glances. No tension from him. Just...nothing. He’d sworn so much when he was coming in her mouth that she never would have expected this tepid reception from him after the fact. It was like he’d panicked, but instead of being embarrassed or angry, he’d shut down his feelings. As if he’d blocked out what they’d done.
His indifference to her kind of hurt. It was a worse rejection than an outright ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ line. Apathy was harder on her self-esteem than outright rejection.
Well, he was damaged, and she knew she wasn’t exactly a catch compared to who he could attract if he chose to, but it still made her sad. It had been stupid to let herself be attracted to an emotionally stunted eccentric billionaire. Between the dominance and his loneliness, though, she’d been helpless against his awkward pseudo-advances. Why did she always fall for the broken ones?
Her sigh made Sutton’s gaze drift over to her. “He’s not the easiest man to get to know,” she said quietly. “He’s a runner. If he thinks you’re getting too close, he’ll put some distance between you.” The older woman began peeling a carrot more viciously than the vegetable could possibly deserve.
“Has he said anything to you about me in the last few days?” Minnow asked carefully. “You seem angry.”
“No. He would never talk to me about you unless it was to tell me to fire you.” She laid aside her work and took a sip of her coffee. “And yes, I’m angry, but not at you. Not at him.” Absently, she straightened her apron and picked up the next carrot. “I just worry. Church and Severin have basically been my sons since they were fourteen. Sev acts like an ass, but he...had it rough in the beginning. Church’s mother, Mrs. Davis, did her best, but she couldn’t fix everything. When she got him at six he was feral. At least he can sit at a table now, and talk to people without automatically flying into a rage.” She pressed her mouth into a thin line. “I’ll always love Davis for loving my boys before I knew them.”
Minnow’s heart broke a little for the boy who had become the man. “You didn’t know Mrs. Davis?”
“No, no. I just know what Church has told me. He knows things from a child’s perspective. He remembers the rages and the destructiveness and the violence. Sev was a very angry little boy by the time the Davis family came.”
“What happened to Severin’s family?”
“Nothing. They’re alive and well in France, last we heard. Two daughters younger than Severin. The mother sends him a gift at Christmas and his birthday. Money transferred into his account, usually, because they don’t know him.”
“But...why?”
Sutton viciously sliced the carrots into a pot of water. “No one knows for sure. Well, maybe Sev knows, but he doesn’t speak of it.”
“But five? What made them give up on him so soon?”
Sutton passed behind her to the stove and put the pot on the element, then squeezed Minnow’s arm. “Who knows? He won’t see a counselor or a psychiatrist for a diagnosis. Maybe PTSD. Maybe he’s got ADHD that made him hard to handle. Maybe Asperger’s. Attachment disorder. Fetal alcohol. Bipolar. There are so many possibilities with symptoms that overlap, so your guess is as good as mine. Possibly as good as his. Whatever the reason, they dumped him here and more or less forgot about him. He’s provided for, but ignored.” She gave Minnow a pat before gathering ingredients for the piecrust for dessert.
“It’s good you’re here now, anyway. My sister needs me in Illinois while she goes through moving Joe to the nursing home. Joe’s been a hoarder for a few years, and the closets at the nursing home are so small she has no idea what to send.” She shook her head. “Hopefully she’ll let me throw out some of the shit he leaves behind at the fucking house.”
Minnow snorted. It was still shocking to her when Sutton swore.
“I made a list of what needs to be done around here. Groc
eries are delivered Wednesdays, as you know. The meal plan is posted in the pantry. You can deviate from it, but don’t get too crazy. He doesn’t like things that are unfamiliar.”
“Why does it feel like you’re leaving me with your cranky toddler?”
“Because I am.” Sutton mixed ingredients in a bowl. “Except he’s six foot six, and when he gets cranky it’s hard to put him down for a nap.”
Minnow shook with laughter.
“I don’t share my toys, either.” Severin’s low rumble came from the doorway, making her jump. How had she not noticed him standing there? He moved through life like a ghost. His quiet gaze riveted Minnow where she stood, and warmth traveled from her cheeks, to her breasts, then crept lower.
Was he implying she was his toy? If so, she damn well felt like one. Or was he just trying to join in their joking?
“Toys?” Sutton asked.
“Like Miss Korsgaard.”
Oh god. In front of Sutton? Really?
“People are not toys, Severin,” Sutton admonished lightly as she rolled out her dough.
“Some are,” he countered, his eyes never leaving Minnow’s face.
Now Sutton did look up at him, frowning. “Severin Leduc! For once in your life will you try to be a fucking gentleman?” She grabbed an apple and threw it at his face, so fast she put some pro pitchers to shame. Severin easily caught the fruit out of the air and bit into it.
“A beast with good manners is still a beast, Mother,” he grumbled sardonically. “There’s no sense in pretending I’m something pretty.” He wandered away, every bite of his apple sounding farther away.
Sutton sighed.
“He calls you Mother?” Minnow finally asked.
“Only when he’s being a sarcastic prick.” The older woman’s mouth pulled into a sad smile, her creped skin folding comfortably around her eyes. “The hardest people to love are the ones who need it most.”
*
Somehow the damned necktie still smelled like him. Sexy.
Curled up in bed, Minnow inspected the way the tie looked wrapped around her wrists in the pale half-light, wishing that masturbating brought her any relief.
Sutton had inadvertently ruined everything that day by coming home too early, leaving Minnow more turned on and helpless than she’d felt in her entire life. The feel of Severin grabbing her head and fucking her face still had her waking from erotic dreams and having to constantly shake herself out of lurid memories about the sound he’d made as he came in her mouth, the hot spurt of him on her tongue, his look of disgusted arousal as she’d swallowed him down.
God, he was perfect and wild and gorgeous, and he hadn’t spoken to her much since, other than when he’d had to. Not knowing why was making her twitchy. Had she done something wrong? Disgusted him?
Ugh. Why did she care? Why was she still fantasizing about him fucking her?
She tried to pull her wrists apart, but the silk tie kept her deliciously trapped, just as his hands had caught at her hair as he pushed his thick shaft between her lips and dampness had pooled between her thighs. For a man who claimed to have no experience, he somehow knew exactly what she craved, and made her almost desperate enough to beg for more.
She brought her hands down between her thighs, touching herself through the thin cotton of her sleep shorts while feeling her bound wrists and thinking about his frigid, imperious gaze as he used her mouth. She wet a finger and eased her hands into her shorts. Maybe this time she could concentrate on him hard enough to end her own suffering for a few minutes.
Tentatively, she slid her damp finger down to her hot core, trying to remember the exact dream she’d been having. She stroked over her aching clit, barely touching. In her dream, he’d been forcing himself into her ass, and she was crying out in pain, trying to accommodate his girth. She could feel every vein, every piercing, as he forced his way in. He’d grunt and smack her ass, saying something ridiculously hot, like “Cooperate or this will hurt, Miss Korsgaard.” Maybe he’d even swear at her. She could still hear him swearing as he’d come down her throat. So fucking sexy. She teased her clit, her ass and thigh muscles tightening, her stomach clenching...
Her door banged open so hard it rebounded off the wall.
Severin loomed in the doorway. He had a body made for looming, and in that moment his appearance was almost enough to send her over the edge into violent orgasm.
She gasped, jerking her hands out of her shorts, glad she’d pulled the sheet back up after she’d tangled the tie around her wrists.
“You can’t just barge into people’s bedrooms!” she said, perhaps a shade too hysterically. Under the sheet she fought to free her wrists. It had been a bitch to undo it herself when he’d been the one who’d tied her, but this time she hadn’t bothered with knots.
“This is my house,” he growled. “I’ll do whatever I want to, at any time.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Why is it such a big deal?” he asked, walking in, apparently not intimidated by her glare. “What were you doing?”
“I was sleeping!”
He frowned, moving closer until he was crowding the foot of her bed. “You’re wide awake.”
“Well I am now! You gave me a heart attack.” She sat up, drawing the sheet with her both to cover the outline of her hard nipples where they had to be obvious through her thin white camisole, and in the hope that his necktie was concealed and not dangling out somewhere. “I could have been naked or something!”
His brow arched, as though she was silly for thinking that was a problem for him. “Get dressed. We’re going out.” His gaze was cold and hard.
She shivered despite herself. Almost a week of ignoring her, and now he was being all intense and mysterious?
“Where are you taking me?” Had she sounded like her victim-self in one of her kidnapping fantasies? Shit. All she could smell was her own arousal, and the object of all of her latest tawdry fantasies stood far too close for comfort. He was almost in her bed, and she was a couple of tugs away from being naked. If he ripped the sheet down and crawled over her, she’d orgasm before he even put his weight on her. She shuddered.
A long look passed between them, but his expression was unreadable. Did he ever think about pinning her down and shoving his cock deep inside her? Hell, she was thinking about that enough for the both of them.
“Do I have time to shower, at least?”
“Yes. But you don’t have time to finish masturbating or get fussy with your make-up. If you take too long I’m coming back in here to speed up the process. Bring a jacket.”
Asshole. He’d known what she was doing and wanted to play games? Fine.
She jammed her hand back into her shorts and gave him a defiant look as she started to pleasure herself again, this time using the actual sight of him as her inspiration – daring him to say anything. His gaze caught the movement of the sheet and his massive chest heaved a few struggled breaths before he turned away.
“Fifteen minutes, Miss Korsgaard,” he grumbled as he walked out of the room. He wasn’t even polite enough to close the door behind him.
*
“Where are we going?” Minnow asked again as Severin led her to the parking garage. She frowned at the morning sun. Sure, it was nine in the morning, but she’d gotten used to sleeping in. Neither she nor Sutton were early risers.
“I have to get some things done in town and you’re coming with me.” He didn’t look at her, although he’d done enough of that after he’d slammed her door open again fifteen minutes after the first time. He’d caught her about to pull a T-shirt over her head, and if he’d been going for playing it cool, he’d failed miserably. There’d been no hiding his fascination with her body even after her shirt bottom met the waistband of her jeans.
“You can’t go by yourself?”
“Aren’t you like my service human or something? If you’re afraid they won’t let you into the mall, I could always get you a little ‘working human’ vest. S
omething with a sign that says ‘no touching.’”
“Will that sign work on you too?”
“You’re my service human. I can pet you when I want to.”
He didn’t even look over his shoulder at her when he said it, but it stoked the heat between her thighs, and she cursed herself for not being able to orgasm after he’d left her room. The time constraint had weighed too heavily on her mind.
“Do you get anxious when you go shopping?” she asked more seriously.
“No. People don’t try to talk to me. I just need a second opinion.”
And here she thought she might actually have a chance to do her job. “A second opinion about what?”
He grunted. “You’ll see when we get there. It’s too much trouble to explain.”
When he opened the garage door, Minnow took a long minute to peruse the selection of cars – new, classic, all expensive. All pristine. Then there were the trucks. Four pickups, all new but all dirty. And the bikes. The motherfucking bikes. About a dozen hideous creations, in every shade of black. They looked like they belonged in Mad Max.
“Have you been on a bike before?” he asked skeptically.
“I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.” Against her parents’ wishes, which had been the best part.
His brows drew together as though his failure to make her nervous irked him. He grabbed a helmet and threw it to her, then slid on a pair of goggles that made him look like he was going to some sort of steampunk party.
“Well, you’re not driving any of mine, so get on the back.” He kicked his leg over a huge, ugly Frankenbike parked near the garage door, and she got on behind him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the warmth between her legs when she was snugged up against him.
“Is this one you made?” she asked, knowing it was just by looking at it. It had the same ugly, sexy arrogance as its creator.
“Yeah. All of these.” He didn’t seem impressed by his own work.
“Do I hang onto you or the bike?” she asked, not about to assume anything after his clear no touching rule.
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