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Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5)

Page 21

by Nancy Haviland


  “Okay.” She figuratively plugged her nose and jumped off the edge into the deep end. “I will wear your tail.”

  He looked at her, his brows lowering. “Pardon me?”

  “Put it in. I would like to wear it. Right now.”

  “I will insert it only if you tell me what changed between now and a few minutes ago when you were wishing my castle was in the south of France.”

  Her face heated when he reminded her of her childish display. “Nothing.”

  He inclined his head and tossed the sex toy so it landed with a solid thunk in front of a display of lipsticks. “Since you cannot be honest, I forbid you to touch—”

  Sick of his games, she didn’t think before snapping it up and rushing through the door to lock herself in the bathroom.

  NINETEEN

  Less than ten uncomfortable, awkward, cringing minutes later—totally understood the talk of a burning sensation—Yasmeen opened the door and came back into the bedroom. She was naked from the waist down but for the warm socks she’d put on that morning to ward off the chill. Her upper body was still hidden by a dove-gray sweater that fell just past her ass.

  She stopped in the doorway and saw Lucian was sitting across the way, dressed all in black; suit, shirt, and polished shoes. “Are you mad at me?” She held up a finger. “Before you answer that, just remember I didn’t go against your wishes because you never finished what you were saying.” She swallowed and fought the urge to squirm. A foreign object in a place no foreign object had ever been before was not a pleasant feeling.

  “Where is it?”

  Her face had to be glowing. “I’ll show you in a minute.”

  The skin appeared to tighten across his cheekbones, and he dropped his head back to bang it a couple of times on the wall behind him. “Yasmeen. You do not fucking tease a man like me.” He brought his head to rights and glowered at her.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because it is dangerous. If you set me up only to watch me fall, I will land hard and take you with me, you foolish little girl.”

  She nodded as her blood boiled. “Oh. Okay. I kind of already figured that, so, I would never tease you.”

  He went still as a statue. “Where. Is. It?”

  She didn’t answer but thrilled to the power that coursed through her veins. She had him. Yes, it was a sexual game, but she was still in possession of his undivided attention. She walked further into the room and had to admit she suddenly felt sexier than a Victoria’s Secret model walking the runway. She wanted to prance, for Christ’s sake.

  “Is it a coincidence that it’s the same color as my hair?”

  “No.”

  Her spirits lifted. “Does that mean it was purchased especially for me?”

  “Of course.”

  They soared. “Thank you. That was very generous of you.”

  His eyes finally left hers, and she could tell he was trying to catch sight of it. She moved slowly enough that he wouldn’t be able to.

  “Do you know my favorite color, Frosty?”

  He was looking at her navel. “If I had to guess, because it is you, I would say you do not have one because you love them all.”

  She almost tripped. Her astonishment must have shown, but he didn’t see it. She quickly recovered and moved on with her game, more into it than ever after that incredible answer. His attention was still on her torso, so she bared it for him. She pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it onto the back of a chair. Slipping the straps of her tank top off her arms, she pushed it down so it was a band around her hips, hiding her bared pussy from view.

  “Is this what you needed to see?”

  “Like the beat of my heart.”

  Hers melted and oozed into a puddle ready to be trampled on. “Do you realize I can misconstrue what you’re saying to mean you like me a whole lot? When you speak of your heart to a woman, she will take it as though you’re speaking from your heart.” Because I’m a fucking sucker.

  “That is nonsense.” He tipped his chin, looking rakish because he hadn’t shaved in days. “You must be warm in that. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

  She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile even after the barb he’d just thrown. She was in her bra and the tiniest tank-turned-skirt ever created. The back of her thighs were being tickled every time she moved.

  “Why have you stopped shaving?” She took great satisfaction in seeing him lick his lips and start breathing heavier when she lost the bra and lifted her breasts. She pushed them together like she’d seen women do in movies when they were trying to be sexy.

  “I do not care to shave. Pinch your nipples,” he rasped.

  She did as she was told.

  “I want the taste of them on my tongue. I want to feel their silkiness tighten as I suck on you.” His gaze met hers, and the accusation she saw had her throwing up a wall. She knew the minute his lips parted he was going to strike at her. “I wish I had gone straight out to my car that day at the gallery. Had I not lingered, I would never have seen you.”

  Boom.

  She held his eyes, refusing to let him see just how mortally he could wound with his honest but cruel comments. The eloquent way he spoke somehow made it worse.

  She fought back by dropping her hands down and hooking her thumbs into the sides of her tank. “I’m thrilled you lingered,” she said as she shimmied it carefully over her ass and down her thighs. As the music swelled behind her, she let it fall the rest of the way by itself. “If you hadn’t, I never would have experienced you. And even though you continuously hurt me, I’m happy you’re in my life.”

  “I wish you were not in mine.”

  She shrugged and shook with the effort it took to remain in front of him. Her libido shrugged it off. Who cares what he says?

  I do, her heart whispered.

  She steadied her voice and tossed back a flippant, “Guess you should have used that big brain of yours and thought twice before you drugged and kidnapped me.”

  “It would not have made a difference. I would have taken you anyway because I had to.”

  What did that mean? “Sounds to me like you created your own problem then. Maybe you need a few lessons in restraint.”

  His pupils expanded as a soft growl flowed up his throat. He gripped his erection and squeezed it. No way did he try to hide it. “You stand before me, more ravishing than any goddess in history, your body bared to torment me as you draw this moment out. Yet you speak to me as though we are standing on an inner-city street corner.”

  She was tormenting him? Not yet, she thought with a malicious smirk. But she would.

  “If you touch me, I will take it out and refuse ever to put one in again.” She gracefully went down to her hands and knees and turned sideways. When she stuck her ass in the air, a steady flow of Romanian bubbled from his lips. She flipped her hair so it landed across her back, tipped her head sideways, and looked at him from under her lashes. My Little fucking Pony this, Frosty.

  “Is this what you imagined I would look like when you first gave me the title of pet?”

  She wiggled her ass and felt the soft fur tail swish against her skin. When he didn’t answer, she knew she’d won this round. That was also when she realized that emotionless edge that often came into their conversations had been absent from this one. His expression was openly showing desire and pleasure. She could plainly see how excited she’d made him. How badly he needed her attentions right then. He was letting her see it.

  She took her time and made something of a production crawling to him. “You don’t like the way I talk? I could always speak like you. Miranda hates it.” She sent her palms stroking up his calves and over his knees, not stopping until she felt a zipper under her fingers. His cock was like a post sitting on his thigh. “Tell me, Frosty, would it please you if I were to offer you hurtful words wrapped in a prettier speech pattern?” She opened his pants and freed his long shaft. “Mmm. Or would you rather I put my mouth to better use?”
r />   Her heart beat in her ears as she closed her fists around him and stroked up and down the silky skin. She wished she could paint, no, sculpt him. She would pay homage to the thick base, the virile shaft that barely tapered once it came up to where her fingers were flirting with the bell-shaped head. Long, heavy, the skin a shade darker than anywhere else on his body. Minimal hair without man-scaping. A full, potent sac…

  Yasmeen forgot her game as her need to connect with this man in any way she could took over. She parted her lips and slipped them around the smooth head, moaning unashamedly as she tucked herself between his spread legs. Her mind fuzzed as sensation took over. This was all she was allowed. This physical link. Sex in any form. She pushed her head down, taking him deep as she gripped the base of his cock. Wanting him deeper, she sucked, pulling her cheeks in.

  Her hair was stroked, and he started talking again as he feathered the long strands out all over his lap. She didn’t understand a word and didn’t care because in her mind he was saying something that had nothing to do with him not wanting her in his life. As she came off and licked hungrily down the swollen vein carved into the front, whimpering because she knew no matter how much of him she took in it would never be enough, he was telling her how happy he was that he’d found her. As she nibbled her way back up and took him in again, he was thanking her for being with him during his time of need, for helping him deal with his grief over losing his brother.

  “I must fuck your mouth, pet.”

  She nodded frantically, inviting him to use her. She even took his hands and placed them on the sides of her head. Let me help you, Lucian, she begged as he began pulling her up and down his cock. He hit the back of her throat and her nails sunk into his thighs, her eyes watering. She welcomed the moisture because it blended with the tears she knew he’d hate seeing that squeezed their way out. Harder she bobbed on him, and harder he pulled, until he was doing as he’d said. Opening her throat, she took it. She took what her needy, hurtful lover gave her, and silently cried because she wanted so much more.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Lucian fit his cock into the tight passage that was Yasmeen’s throat and wished he could permanently solder them together. Yes, for obvious reasons, but more just to keep them linked. Where he went, she would go. Never out of his sight. Never in harm’s way. Never anywhere near another man who might one day have this spectacular view of her fully accepting her role as his pet.

  The thought combined with the heat surrounding him, her submissive position, and that goddamn tail hanging from the silver butt plug she’d pushed into her never-before-penetrated ass just to please him…Jesus Christ, he’d never been more turned on.

  Or more moved by a gesture.

  Thinking of her eagerness to satisfy him was enough to break him. He pumped into her with a short stroke, not stopping until his release flowed up his shaft and transferred from him to her. His pleasure became crippling when he felt her swallow. He would live inside her. For a time, his very essence would mix with hers, and nothing could change that.

  “Yes, my pet,” he moaned, holding her head tight between his legs. “Take from me, you beautiful little thing.”

  As his climax peaked, and then slowly tapered to small electric bursts, and knowing she needed to breathe, he reluctantly pulled her head up and withdrew his wet length. He bent and took her mouth, cleaning her as she panted, stroking their tongues together, sharing the very air surrounding them.

  “I have never been more pleased,” he breathed into her. “You satisfy me like no one ever has. Thank you for that, draga.”

  When her dark eyes blinked up at him, her wet eyes, he realized he’d mistakenly spoken in English. He’d been so careful to revert to his own language when he praised her. But the brain buckling release had softened more than his cock.

  Kissing her once more, he swiped his thumbs to catch the moisture using her so hard had caused to spill over. “I would do almost anything to be able to remain here and have you walk the room for the next hour so I could savor this sight. Stand, please.” He helped her to stand and turned her, groaning again at the sight of the long tail. “Magnificent.” He took his time kissing each plump cheek, petting her, lifting the tail so his view was unimpeded. Then he tried not to weep as he sent her toward the bathroom with a light tap on the back of her thigh. “Would you protest if I wanted to take a photo for posterity sake?”

  She looked at him over her shoulder and had never looked more seductive as she did then, biting her lip and debating. She killed him when she shook her head and shyly dropped her still moist eyes. “Not this time,” she said quietly, more subdued now that she’d brought him to his knees.

  “Very well. Go remove it.” If you must. “Then you will get dressed. I have business in Bucharest, and you will accompany me. Wear something dark and formal. I want your makeup noticeable and your hair down. Wear stockings beneath your dress but nothing else. Make sure the neckline is deep, and you will wear no jewelry other than your collar. Seeing it around your neck will make it that much less irritating for me when others covet you.”

  He kept his attention off her as he tucked himself back into his pants and stood.

  “Do you need me to remain while you dress?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Try to keep in mind your dress should compliment the man you are wearing it for. Meet me in the foyer in an hour.” He was so self-indulgent when it came to her, he knew he would forgo the meeting and take her to bed if he lingered. He didn’t even look her way as he left.

  He made his way downstairs with his jaws grinding together, and all he could see in his mind’s eye was his father sitting in a wooden chair by the door in their library, his emotions laid out for all to see. Lucian barely recalled the fear and anxiety. It was the relief that was scarred into his brain. That motherfucking relief that would flood the man’s face when he would hear his wife walk in the front door. And it never left even when she drew near, bringing with her the smell of sex she’d had with someone who wasn’t her husband.

  And never would Lucian forget the knowing smirk and condescending yes, of course, his mother would drawl when Lucian’s father would offer to run her a bath. She’d known she had him by the submissive, so-deeply-in-love balls, and the bitch had thrived on it.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Feeling drained and emotional, and a tiny bit resentful of the ease with Lucian could walk away from her—after she’d worn a tail for him!—Yasmeen did her hair and makeup with a particular image in mind. She concentrated on the music still playing and tried to find humor in the fact that this would only be her second date with her madman.

  When it was time to dress, she sifted through the selection of cocktail dresses boasting labels from designers she’d only ever seen on TV during Fashion Week. It wasn’t until a black gauzy creation caught her eye that her mouth curved into a smile. She eyed the stunning dress then the door.

  “Compliment the man I’m wearing it for, huh? Got it.”

  She carefully got into it, added a pair of four-inch black Louboutins, and took off her cheap rings. When she stepped in front of the mirror, she kept her face free of expression. With her hair straightened from a severe part down the middle, and dramatic eye makeup paired with a pale foundation and red lip stain, she was extremely pleased with the result.

  Could Mrs. Addams have been right? Was normal only an illusion?

  TWENTY

  Lucian put his empty glass down on the table and looked at his watch for the fifth time in the last few minutes. His skin felt tight. He should have waited for her upstairs. Watched her get ready.

  “Holy shit.”

  It wasn’t Sorin’s curse so much as the chuckle that followed that had Lucian’s feet carrying him to the entrance of the sitting room. He joined his protector and looked across the foyer to see a magnificent queen of the damned gliding down the carved staircase, an onyx river trailing behind her as if the darkness couldn’t bear to be left behind.

  He start
ed across as she reached the last step.

  “Gomez.”

  His jaw clenched, and he wondered if he would ever get her references. He was sure he’d missed every one so far. He’d actually Googled Heimdall earlier today as he’d sat in his office forcing himself to work.

  “The Addams Family,” Sorin supplied with a smile in his voice. “Gomez and Morticia,” he added as though Lucian was completely out of touch.

  “To compliment your date,” Lucian said when he reached her.

  “But, of course.” She held out her hand and would have looked more the part if she’d had some arrogance in her.

  “I appreciate the effort you took to mock me, pet. But it was wasted.” He kissed her hand, his mouth watering when he caught a glimpse of the bronzed skin of her flat navel. “You have never looked the part to play well with my demons. Until now. Come. Let us get this over with.”

  After bundling her in a warm wrap, it was with some apprehension that he brought her out to the car. The nagging feeling remained during the drive to the clearing where the chopper waited, and was still with him when they landed in Bucharest and headed to the casino.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  They hadn’t been in the building more than ten minutes and already Lucian was ready to take a scalpel to the eyes of men just like him who thought they had the right to whatever was before them because being wealthy frequently made it so. They ran their practiced gaze over his pet, cataloging the flawless image she presented. Some of them hid their lust. Those were the ones who recognized the significance of her single piece of jewelry, which was noticeable in a room where most every woman in attendance positively dripped with diamonds. The others did what he’d expected them to do; covet. How could they not?

  A couple brushed by them, sending Yasmeen deeper into his side. She slipped her arm around his waist and remained. “I’m not usually bothered by crowds, but these people are like you. All this money makes me uneasy.”

 

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