Sorin jammed his hands into his pockets and bent his head. His brow came down low, and his beard rippled. Lucian put his finger to his lips to tell Yasmeen to remain quiet while his protector warred with himself.
“If you will give me your word that you will not leave the castle, I will take her,” Sorin finally growled.
“You have my word.”
Sorin thrust his huge hand at him. “Swear on Markus’s memory.”
Lucian’s gut rebelled as though an iron fist had made contact with it. “I will do nothing with my brother’s memory but cherish it. Leave us, Sorin.” He walked away from both of them as he tried to catch his breath.
“Forgive me. I cannot trust who you are right now, Lucian. Markus’s memory is the only thing left of any importance to you. Of course, I would use it to seal your vow.”
“Do not ever do it again.” He took the lid off the tray to see two cooling bowls of soup, bread, and cold meats. There was also a bowl of cherries. He took that up and went back to sit next to Yasmeen. “I will bring the tray down myself.”
Taking that as the dismissal it was, Sorin left.
“Do you like cherries?”
Yasmeen lowered his hand from where he was offering her one of the plump fruit. “What was that about?”
“Were we speaking English?”
“Not that I heard,” she said dryly.
“Then it is not your concern. Take.” He lifted his offering again.
“I’m only asking because I heard my name.” She scraped her top teeth from his knuckle to the tip of his finger before taking the cherry. An intended punishment?
“That will do nothing but make my cock hard, Yasmeen. Unless you wish to accommodate that, you might want to behave and not bite the hand that feeds you.”
Her mouth twisted with what looked to be humor as he got up to bring the rest of their meal over. To avoid another aggravating incident tonight, he allowed her the liberty of feeding herself. She took the bowls and handed him one after he placed the tray next to her. While they ate, she revealed her nerves through chatter. Her gaze continuously met his, and it was he who looked away when she began searching. He didn’t want her to see what was coming. Not yet.
He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused when she didn’t mention the phone call he knew she had to have made. She should have shared. But he understood she was probably afraid to. Either way, it meant nothing to him. What could her friend do to take his pet away? Nothing.
As the meal came to a close, he was surprised to find himself relaxing in light of her talk of school-day-lunch-fails—as she called them—and Raymond noodles—whatever that was. He would have thought the noise would be annoying. It wasn’t.
She neatly stacked their empty dishes, and he placed the tray on a table near the door, already knowing he would forget it and Sorin or one of the other staff would have to come for it after all.
He turned to find Yasmeen directly behind him.
“How long has Sorin been with you?”
He tipped his head. “Why?”
She shrugged and started worrying the edge of his shirt. “Curious. It’s clear he loves you and is concerned for you. I was just wondering…” She dropped her hands and stepped back.
He suspected what he was feeling at being reminded of his early years had come through in his expression because hers become wary.
“Sorin has been in my life since we were fourteen.”
“Oh. You’re lucky to have a friend like him.”
“He will take you into town tomorrow. You can buy Miranda and Eric something from one of the shops. How are they?”
The smooth skin of her beautiful throat rippled through a swallow he heard. “They’re better now.”
He liked that she didn’t insult him by attempting to lie. “After hearing from you.”
She inched another step back before nodding.
“Do you think I might strike you, Yasmeen?”
“No. But I’ve been wrong about that before.”
“Really. When?” His mind opened up, and suddenly he wasn’t the only one listening for her answer. The darkness inside him wanted to know who it would swallow.
“A couple of the homes I stayed in weren’t the best place for a little kid. If the men drank, they usually weren’t happy drunks.”
“They hit you?”
“A few of them.” She was playing with the ends of her hair, wrapping a lock around her pinkie so tight the tip was turning purple. “I only had to stay a couple of months before my worker pulled me from places like that.”
“Have you always been Yasmeen Michaels? Or did you go by another name growing up?” His insides were charring at the image of his pet as a ten-year-old girl, cowering in a corner as some drunk slapped or punched her.
“No. I’ve always been Yasmeen.”
“Did they make you bleed?”
Her hands coming to rest on his waist had him blinking to find her face only inches away. “Lucian, it’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“Did you bleed by their hand?”
She dropped her eyes. “Sometimes. One of them slapped me across the face once for not closing the bread bag after I made my lunch. My nose started bleeding. It wouldn’t stop even when he sent me off to school. The nurse let me know about the pinching-the-bridge-while-tipping-your-head-back thing.”
“How old were you?” He was whispering. In his head, something was roaring in outrage.
“Nine.”
He nodded stiffly and bent to press his lips to the straight slope of her nose. “I would never strike you. Not for any reason.”
“Okay.”
“But I will spank you as a punishment if you deserve it. And to pleasure you, of course. Your ass, your clit, and your entire pussy if I see your body respond.”
A shaky laugh puffed out to warm his throat. “Uh, yeah, we’ll have to discuss that before—”
“We just did. Go to sleep now.”
He left her there. He had some records to dig up.
EIGHT
Yasmeen watched her imperious lover walk away, his shoulders stiff, blinders firmly in place.
Spank her pussy? Jesus…
“Er, where are you going, Lucian?”
“To my office.”
Her stomach dropped. Goosebumps pricked on her arms. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea of him going off alone looking as he did or him leaving her alone.
“Here in the castle?” Please say yes. She didn’t relish the thought of clinging to his ankle and riding his foot all the way to the foyer before he kicked her off and left.
“Yes.”
She breathed a little easier, but the closer he got to the door, the faster she began raveling and unraveling her hair on her throbbing finger. She pressed her lips together. She wouldn’t ask if she could go with him. She wouldn’t. Or, God forbid, ask him to stay with her because she was feeling vulnerable. No way. No way in hell.
“Goodnight, pet.”
“Goodnight.”
She watched the muscles beneath his shirt tighten and release with every step he took away from her. His watch glinted as he reached out and turned the knob. He walked through the door, closing it behind him. Panic filled her as the stunning room transformed into a dark attic in her mind. All around her were dust motes and spiders, a flickering nightlight, and that dirty little bed she ended up sleeping in for almost five months.
And then she was running. She wrenched open the door and called out, her voice tight and high. “Lucian?”
He stopped fifteen feet away and came around to look at her with a frown.
She’d never felt so weak. “I don’t want to stay up here by myself. Can I come with you?” Her pulse hammered when his eyes narrowed on her. “Please? I promise I won’t bother you. You won’t even know I’m there.”
A full minute went by before he lifted a hand. With a relief that weakened her muscles, she skipped to him and slipped her hand into his.
“Thank you.”
<
br /> He gave a clipped nod. “Would you like to put something on your feet?”
She looked down at her bare toes and shook her head. What if he left without her?
“I laid out a nightgown in the corner of your closet. Go put on the slippers I put with it. Actually, while you are there, change into the gown, too. I will wait for you.”
She bit her lip and looked at the door to their room, then behind her at the shadowy corridor. “Promise?”
“Yes, draga. I promise not to leave you on your own when you are so ill at ease. I am not that cruel.”
“’Kay.” She went back and barely looked at the beautiful ivory silk creation she threw on after taking off her clothes. It was sheer, layered, and the cuffs and hemline were trimmed with the softest fur. She’d have felt like a cross between Mrs. Howell and Santa’s escort if she hadn’t felt as if she were wearing a cloud made by angels. She turned to slide her feet into the prettiest matching ballet slippers, and paused at the sight of her reflection. Wow. Her frosty madman might be nuts, but he had superb taste.
“I do not want you in anything but the gown and slippers, Yasmeen.”
As Lucian’s voice drifted to her, she had to wonder if he’d want her at all if she gained twenty pounds, got a scar or two, and cut her hair to her chin.
Swiftly stepping out of her panties, she laid them with the bra she’d already taken off. When she walked out, she felt like a naked ghost.
Lucian’s chest rose swiftly when she rushed across the room towards him, layers of silk billowing behind her. She smoothed her hair down because she suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Ready.”
He stopped her from darting past him into the hallway with an arm around her waist. Allowing the momentum to turn him into her, he backed her into the open door and pressed his body along the length of hers.
“Mesmerizing,” he breathed as he stroked from her hips up to her breasts with complete and total ownership. He rolled her nipples, passed over them a few times with his thumbs, then took his touch away once they were peaked and ready for more. “I want to have a structure built deep in the woods.” His hands came to rest on the sides of her neck, his fingertips pressing into the base of her skull. “Preferably underground so no one will ever find it. I would have them construct only one entrance, and I would have the only access code. Close your eyes.”
She held onto him with a grip on the sides of his sweater. She closed her eyes.
He kissed each one, lingering. “Do you know what I would keep in that solitary, impenetrable fortress, draga?”
“Your valuables?” she guessed as she gave up and went under the hem to get at his skin.
“Yes. But only one.”
“Oh. Uh, your money?”
“You.”
Her eyes flew open. “Me?” she squeaked.
“I would lock you away and never let another soul anywhere near you. My face would be the only one you would ever again see. My voice would be the only one you would hear. My touch would be the last you would ever feel. And you would feel so much of it. You would exist for me. When I made time to visit, you would celebrate my very presence. Can you imagine a life like that, my pet?”
Ice flowed through her veins. “You would return to that fortress and find a corpse. Because if you ever made me live like that, I’d kill myself.”
His fingers tightened until her head started to ache. “I would hunt you down in the afterlife if you did that to me. You would pay dearly.” He was looking down at her, but with a vacancy in his stare that told her he wasn’t really with her.
“Lucian?” She grabbed his wrists. “You’re hurting me.”
“You are hurting me.”
She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d hit her. “What? How? Lucian, I’m here for you.” She brought her hands to his cheeks and stood on her toes so she could press her lips to his. His mouth was cold. “I want to help you.” The pressure he was exerting faded until he was simply holding her again.
He tsked as he shook his head. “I want to climb inside you and stay there until you can’t survive without me. I want to fuck your body. I want to fuck your mind into an addiction you’ll never get over. I want you to crave my touch, my voice, the scent of my skin, the feel of my mouth on you, the sensation of my cock filling you, my tongue cleaning you afterward. I want you to need what I give you. I want it so you struggle to breathe when I am not within your sights. When you can no longer smell me, I want you to whimper with a desperation that matches what I am experiencing. I want this perfect, flawless treasure you are to be dependent on me for your very life.”
His forehead was resting on hers now. Something in the very fabric of her existence understood those needs while the rational part of her found them repugnant. Excitement, terror, and a dark, writhing lust was crackling under her skin, heating her even as she chilled.
He blinked and drew in a sudden lungful of air as if he’d just come out of a trance. He straightened and slid his hands down to her shoulders before placing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Do not worry. I will send you home before I allow my demons to do those things to you. I know you deserve better. Now, come. You can sit by the fire while I attempt to work for an hour.”
As though he hadn’t just revealed to her the extent of his crazy, he took her hand and led her out of the room. There was no way to process what this might mean for her, so Yasmeen didn’t bother. Rather, she followed along and vowed to try as hard as she could to get through to him. He had to see she was more than a possession. But more importantly, she had to convince him to send those demons he spoke so fondly of on their merry way. If he allowed them to take over completely, they were both finished.
♦ ♦ ♦
They made their way to a study she’d never have found on her own. Crowded bookshelves lined the walls, and a monstrous desk sat near the window. Looking conspicuous, there had to be at least a dozen monitors set up in the far corner. Three of them were on, with one showing CNN, and the other two a stock exchange channel with the ticker tape whizzing by along the bottom of the screen. A massive globe slowly turned on an elaborate stand. As she prayed there was a magnet at work somewhere in there, her eye was drawn to the welcoming stone hearth that had a fire going. The scent in the air would have been wonderful had she not been so out of sorts.
As they passed by a sitting area, Lucian took a throw pillow from one of the chairs and tossed it onto the thick rug in front of the fireplace. A shiver passed through her when he slipped his hand around her nape and brought her around and up so he could easily reach her mouth. For the next five minutes, he played with her. He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly, tangling their tongues, tickling her lips with his fingertips, burying his nose in her hair. He strummed up and down her ribs and spine, feeling every ridge.
Yet every time she tried to participate, he stopped her by taking her hands off him and placing them at her sides.
“I’d like to touch you,” she whispered as he nuzzled below her ear, his bristles deliciously rough. God, she wanted to eat him alive.
“I do not want your touch right now.”
That zinger nailed her hard, cutting into her appetite.
“It will distract me.”
Oh, well, okay then.
He kissed her once more, their lips clinging, before setting her back. He had an erection she’d have gladly spent some time on had he been receptive. Since he wasn’t, and she wasn’t confident enough in her abilities to try bringing him around, she allowed him to place her next to the pillow at their feet.
“I would like you to wait here.”
She nodded and looked around for a chair, but when she took a step toward the nearest one, he stopped her.
“No. Not there. Here. I would like to look over and see you curled up in front of the hearth.”
“W-what?”
“Down.”
She stared at him for a long time, her heart beating thickly, her cheeks growing hotter and hotter.
> And to her shame, her pussy grew wetter and wetter. He wanted his pet curled in front of a warm fire awaiting his attentions. Maybe she could talk to him while he worked. Sneak in some details to show him he had an actual human being in his midst.
Holding his eyes, she lowered herself—figuratively and literally—to her knees. She went onto her hip and laid on her side with her head on the pillow that smelled of fresh laundry.
Instead of going to his desk, Lucian squatted, and he began petting her. He ran his palm over her silk-clad hip, making a quiet, contented sound. “Perfect. I could not have chosen better,” he mused.
Pleasure flowed through her, and she could have sworn her bones melted when he began scratching her back. God, that felt amazing. When he started playing with her hair, she was done. Her lids came down, and it was her turn to verbalize with a quiet murmur that wasn’t a word. It just sounded happy. As her thought process began to shut down, she slipped her fingers around his ankle in an effort to keep him with her.
When she came to, he was gone. Only a few minutes could have passed because when she opened her heavy lids to locate him, he was still on his feet. He was behind his desk, looking at an iPad. He had his cell at his ear. The very one he’d known she’d used earlier.
“Senator Raine? It is Lucian Fane. Yes, of course. It is no bother. What can I do for you?”
Senator? she thought as her eyes closed again.
“It was my understanding they would desist after one warning. Oh? I see. When was this? Have you shared this information with Gheorghe? Good. He and I will discuss it. I will have him get back to you with a peaceful solution by tomorrow evening. Of course. Goodbye, Senator.”
She drifted in and out as he sat and made another call. God, she could listen to that accent forever.
“I just spoke to Raine. He said his issue has turned their nose up at our warning and has sent troops into the camps on the eastern border. Call the commander and have him perform an airstrike. What? Why the fuck are you risking yourself in an area so volatile?” A note of alarm filtered into his voice. “Get the fuck out, immediately, or I’ll pull your funding and tie you down so tight you will not be able to take a step outside of Brooklyn without my men coming down on you. I do not care. Get your ass home. Before you leave, tell the commander two passes. If any men are left, capture and keep. We will deal with them personally when we find some time. No, Gheorghe, one warning was all they deserve. After what they have done to their people over the last three years, I would have obliterated them without it, but you insisted. Yes, well, you have only yourself to blame since you were the one who brought me in. Exactly. They had their chance, and they did not take it. Let me know when it is done.”
Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) Page 9