Power: Power Series #1

by Victoria Woods

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “My home away from home,” he answered.

  How could anyone live here? It looked so…cold.

  We pulled into an underground garage with bright lights shining overhead. I had to squint through the brightness to make out the various sleek cars that decorated the lot. Shyam pulled his car into a spot between a yellow Lamborghini and a white Maserati. I was not surprised that he would own so many expensive cars but work in a city where driving them was nearly impossible. Wealthy tech CEOs and their toys.

  He moved to the passenger side and opened my door. Apparently, chivalry wasn’t dead, even if you were a criminal. I stepped out of the car and grabbed onto the door handle to steady myself. My brain still felt groggy, despite my mini nap. Shyam grasped my hand in his for support as he led me through the garage. Sparks flew up my arm from his touch, waking up my clouded brain. Anytime our skin made contact, I felt the energy of our chemistry.

  We reached an industrial door with a retina scanner on the side of it. Shyam lowered his head and the door slid open, revealing an elevator. I stepped over the threshold, still holding his hand. Looking down at our joined hands, I noticed how our fingers had become intertwined unintentionally. He wasn’t just holding my hand anymore; I was holding his in return. He caught me staring at our union, and my cheeks reddened with my embarrassment that he’d caught me. I felt him give my hand a gentle squeeze—reassurance that he wanted this too.

  The doors opened, revealing a spacious living area with black marble floors. Gray leather couches lined the perimeter. Two sleek, low-lying wood coffee tables lay centered between the couches. A fireplace warmed the space in front of the couches. The interior looked nothing like the plain exterior of the home.

  Expansive windows lined the far wall. I left Shyam’s grasp and walked over to see the view. The sky was unusually dark for New York. I hadn’t seen dark skies like this since I moved from the Pacific Northwest. Stars dusted the charcoal sky. It was beautiful.

  “How far away are we from the city?” I asked.

  “About ninety minutes,” he replied while busying himself in the kitchen just off to the left of the living room. With the open floor plan, I could see through into the kitchen, which was just as sleek and masculine as the living room.

  “Do you drive to work from here every day?” That commute must be so long, even if he used a driver.

  “No, I have a place in the city that I use during the week. I come here on weekends for privacy.”

  Privacy for work or pleasure? I imagined he would want privacy for his illegal dealings, but maybe he brought other women here too. A flash of irritation coursed through me. Images of the bimbo fawning all over him the other night at Nirvana played like a movie on a screen in my head.

  Shaking my head to stop my thoughts, I came back to reality. He was a gorgeous and powerful man, so it was stupid to think that he was a celibate monk in his spare time. Yet, I couldn’t stop the bitterness I felt at the idea of him with another woman.

  He returned to my side and offered me a teacup, one eyebrow raised. He studied my face as if he could read my thoughts. He witnessed the wheels turning in my head. “Where did you go, Amelia?”

  I ignored his question. The last thing he needed to think was that I was some jealous girl pining for her hunky boss.

  I took the cup into my hands and inhaled its warming scent. The spiced aroma soothed my senses. I took a sip, and notes of cinnamon and ginger warmed me on the way down. I felt my head clearing from its effects, my sanity returning.

  “This is delicious. What is it?” I asked. I licked my lips slowly to clean off the milky foam that stuck to them. Shyam’s eyes focused on my mouth, unwilling to look away. His lids were heavy with desire.

  After a moment, he cleared his throat and replied, “Masala chai.” His gaze lifted.

  “This tastes nothing like the chai I get from Starbucks. It’s so much better.” I took another sip, savoring the taste.

  “That stuff is fake and overly processed. This is my mother’s recipe. She used to make it for us when we stayed up late studying in high school.”

  I was interested to hear about his upbringing and suspected he didn’t share much of it with strangers. “Did you go to high school in America?”

  “No. India,” he replied.

  I had heard stories about the education system in India from my friends in the industry and it sounded intense. I imagined that Shyam and Jai must have spent a lot of late nights studying to pass their exams.

  “Is that where your mom lives now?” I asked, finishing off my chai and placing the cup on a nearby table.

  His demeanor changed and he looked away. “She was killed five years ago.”

  My heart lurched in my chest for him. I reached for his hand. His gaze met mine again, touched by my gesture. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Jai and I were abroad in America when it happened. He was twenty-four and had just graduated from Stanford with his master’s degree. I had already started working in the family business, using my contacts from business school to expand our network in the States.”

  “How old were you?” I asked.

  “Twenty-seven,” he said.

  I did the math. That would make him thirty-two right now. Our age difference should have surprised me, but I couldn’t deny the connection I felt despite it.

  “Do you know who did it?” I hoped he didn’t think I was prying. I just wanted to understand his past.

  He pulled his hand away from mine. I felt the loss immediately. Stepping closer to the window, his eyes focused far into the horizon even though it was dark outside. “Tarun. His men kidnapped her on her way home from the market and held her hostage. They took her when her maid was distracted with one of the vendors.”

  “Where did they take her?” I whispered in horror.

  “To the basement of one of his factories. They took turns raping her and hung her after they had their fill.” His voice never wavered, but his eyes still determinedly avoided mine.

  “Jesus,” I gasped, tears threatening to spill over. The vivid image of how his mother had suffered was making my stomach churn, and I swallowed down the bile that had risen into my mouth. I would die if anyone laid a hand on my own mother.

  “Tarun left a note for my father with the coordinates to her body. He found her in a landfill. He never got over his grief and took his life to be with her.” He stared intently at whatever held his focus outside of the window, most likely to avoid the look of pity in my eyes.

  My heart broke for the man standing in front of me. He had closed himself off from anyone because of his own grief. He was the patriarch of his ever-diminishing family. All the responsibility to carry on the family legacy was on his shoulders. It was no wonder why he was so serious and intense all the time.

  I moved behind him and placed a hand on the center of his back. I could feel the vibration of his heartbeat. His hard muscles relaxed under my touch. I slid my hand down soothingly, bringing it to the side of his waist, and rested my cheek against his back, letting my tears wet his shirt.

  Shyam turned to face me and framed my face with his large hands. As his thumbs wiped away my tears, I saw the torment he had kept hidden over the past five years reflected in his beautiful hazel eyes. In that moment, I didn’t see a criminal or a tech tycoon standing in front of me. I just saw a man with a bruised heart—a man that I wanted to protect from his own past. “We will make him pay for what he did,” I whispered as I stared up at him.

  His eyes softened with gratitude and his lips met mine, offering me a silent thank-you. His kiss was so tender that it contradicted his powerful exterior. It consumed every part of me. I dug my fingertips into his biceps to steady myself…Because I am falling for this man.

  He deepened the kiss. I opened my lips to let him in. His tongue tasted my mouth with fervor. Our tender kiss became wild and reckless as my tongue met his with the same need. One of his hands slid in
to my hair above the nape of my neck. He yanked hard on the strands as he bit my bottom lip, drawing blood. His tongue soothed the sharp pain. I couldn’t help but let a moan escape from my throat.

  In one fell swoop, he lifted me in his arms, cradling me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold on as he carried me upstairs.

  He carried me into what I assumed was his bedroom, with black walls illuminated by soft golden light from two bedside lamps. Lush green plants decorated the corners on either side of the bed. It felt like a dark jungle, and the man holding me was a feral predator about to consume his prey.

  He laid me on his bed, with my head propped up by soft, luxurious pillows. He climbed on top of me, sealing his mouth over mine. I breathed him in as our lips crashed together. My fingers weaved into his hair to pull him closer. I never wanted him to stop.

  He trailed kisses down my neck as he moved lower, until his mouth found my nipple. He bit down on it through my clothes. I yelped at the pain but felt the familiar ache between my legs, begging to be relieved. He grabbed the neckline of my tank top with both of his strong hands and ripped it in half, all the way down through the hem. He pulled my exposed bra cups down under my breasts, smoothing his palms over my flesh. While his tongue massaged my bare nipple, his hands moved to the button of my jeans, undoing it with deft fingers.

  He pushed off of me and stood in front of the bed. I longed for him to return and encase me with his warmth, but he began working my shoes and socks off my feet instead. He gave each one a gentle kiss as he revealed undiscovered skin. My breath hitched every time his lips made contact. Then he peeled my jeans down my waist. I pushed my hips up in a bridge, allowing him to slide them down and off my legs.

  He stepped back from the bed to take in the sight before him—me, with my cotton bra around my ribs, bare tits ready for him, and my arousal soaking through my matching white panties. Why couldn’t I have worn something sexier tonight? I clamped my knees together to hide my pedestrian panties.

  “Open them,” he commanded.

  I did as he said, letting my knees fall apart, opening wide for him. His eyes shone with approval. Keeping them glued to me, he worked the buttons of his shirt and discarded it onto the floor. His chiseled abs and arms were ripped like stone.

  He stepped out of his shoes and removed his socks, kicking them away. My eyes roamed to the deep V cut of his hips that pointed to the protrusion in his pants. He undid his fly and pushed them along with his boxers down to the floor, revealing his long, thick dick. So smooth and already oozing precum at the tip. Oh God. I licked my lips as the image burned my eyes—so hot, like the sun. My legs parted wider in response to what I was seeing. I could feel my wetness dripping down the sides of my panties.

  He inched closer to the bed like he was hunting me down, guided by the scent of my arousal. Perching himself at the foot of the bed, he pressed my thighs down with his palms. He buried his nose into my panty-covered pussy, inhaling deeply. My breathing grew ragged with anticipation. He released his hold on my thighs. He caught the edge of my panties in his mouth and tugged them down, pulling them off with only his teeth. Like a beast ripping away flesh with its fangs. Everything he did was with raw animal intention.

  He pressed kisses on my inner thigh until he reached my pussy. He licked my slit, causing my back to arch off the mattress at the shock of pleasure.

  “You’re wet for me already, jaan,” he whispered against my folds before devouring me. The pressure building between my legs was so painful. I needed release. I wanted him inside of me. I grabbed his head with my hands and pulled his face up to mine, raising my pelvis to meet his.

  “So impatient,” he said before he kissed me, letting me taste my arousal on his tongue. “If you don’t stay still, I’ll have to tie up those hands. Maybe you’d prefer that?”

  I had never been tied up in bed before, but something told me I would love whatever he did to me. He had such control over my body.

  He continued his torturous assault on my pussy with his mouth. He moved to my clit, sucking my nub between his teeth, and biting down. Pain flashed in my clit, causing me to cry out. He soothed the pain with his tongue, massaging it with gentle strokes. Blood rushed to my area, which only heightened my pleasure, to my surprise. His tongue lapped at my slit as his thumb took over massaging my nub in rhythmic circles. I felt my pelvic muscles clench. Sweat coated my body. My hands fisted his hair, holding on for dear life.

  “Oh God,” I moaned loudly. My body convulsed in waves of pleasure as I found my release.

  I lay limp on the bed, trying to catch my breath. I was in disbelief of what had just happened. I had never come so hard in my life.

  Shyam rose from between my legs, his lips wet with my arousal. His dick was so hard that its vein protruded like it was about to burst. I had never been with a man who enjoyed going down on me as much as he seemed to.

  He kissed the valley between my breasts before moving up to my neck. Small bites nipped at my neck. I felt my toes curl and my body tense with pleasure. How can I still be so turned on?

  “We’re not finished yet,” he hummed in my ear and sucked my lobe. He moved to my mouth, abusing me with his kisses. His dick pressed into my belly, wetting my skin with precum. I slid my hand between us and stroked him. I wanted his wetness all over me. To mark me. His gaze went from confident sex god to heavy-lidded and in need of his own release. I fed off his desire for me. I relished pulling this controlled man over the edge with me.

  “I need you, Shyam,” I breathed into his face. I hooked my legs around his ass to urge him into me. He couldn’t resist. I felt the head of his cock press into me.

  “Wait! You’re not wearing anything!” I had almost lost myself in the moment and become irresponsible. I was on the pill, but we hadn’t talked about our sexual history.

  “No. I want all of you,” he growled. Sensing my nervousness, he reassured me, “I’m clean. Are you?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you trust me?” his eyes probed me.

  I do. “Yes.”

  His dick pressed through my inner folds. He was so large that I tensed up as he filled me.

  “Breathe, Amelia,” he whispered, coaxing me with a passionate kiss. I exhaled into his mouth and relaxed my muscles, allowing him to slide through my cream.

  It was the first time I had had anyone in me without a barrier. The sensation was so much more intense than what I was used to.

  He rested inside of me for only a couple of seconds, giving me a chance to stretch to his size before drawing out. Before I had a chance to mourn the loss of him, he slammed back into me with such force that the headboard banged into the wall behind us. He pumped into me faster, his balls slapping against my ass.

  I felt my muscles tighten again. I couldn’t believe I was coming again so soon. “I can’t believe—"

  I couldn’t finish my sentence before I exploded into pieces. “Shyam,” I cried out as my pleasure peaked.

  He fucked me harder than before as his cock thickened inside of me. “Jaan,” he shouted as he filled me with his cum.

  He collapsed onto me with his face buried into my neck. My arms snaked around his back, holding him tight. We lay there for a while, sticky with sweat and arousal.

  When his cock fully softened, he pulled out and rolled onto his back next to me. The only sound between us was our breaths falling into a steady resting pace. He stared up at the ceiling. “Did I hurt you?”

  “A little,” I replied. But I liked it. It was the best sex of my life.

  The mattress shifted under his weight as he got up from the bed. He walked over to the opposite side and took my hand to guide me off the bed too. Warm cum slid down my thigh as gravity took over.

  He led me into the bathroom and into the shower. The warm water from the dual heads felt so good on my spent body. The view in front of me wasn’t bad either.

  Streams of water flowed down his chiseled pecs and six pack. His biceps flexed as he lathe
red his torso with soap. He had emptied himself into me just minutes ago and his flaccid dick still looked big. I felt my mouth water as small soap bubbles slid down his shaft. Realizing I was gawking again, I grabbed a bottle of shampoo to break my focus.

  “Let me.” He took the bottle from me and squeezed some onto his large palm. “Turn around.”

  I turned, giving him access to my hair. Oh. Long fingers weaved themselves into my hair and massaged my scalp. I tilted my head back further, enjoying the sensation of being taken care of by a man. He carefully washed my hair and smoothed on conditioner. Soapy hands rubbed my neck and back. They roamed my entire body, slipping down to my ass cheeks and snaking around to my front. He lathered my breasts in gentle circles and moved down my belly toward my folds. The water washed away the suds from my body. His fingers found my clit, and instinctively, I rocked against them. He worked my sweet spot in languid strokes.