by Maya Banks
She soon had her answer when Manuel’s hand smacked the fleshy globe of one cheek and fire ignited, quickly fading to be replaced by the warm glow of pleasure. She opened her eyes to see Drake’s gaze warm and approving.
“My angel likes the pain.”
“It’s only pleasure,” she whispered.
Manuel alternated cheeks, never striking the same spot as he covered every inch of her behind until it ached and throbbed. She twisted restlessly, touching herself lightly, knowing not to go too far yet.
She paused when he stopped and then he placed both palms over her bottom and spread her wide, his cock bumping and nudging at her entrance. Then he stopped when the tip barely breached her opening and she began to stroke herself in earnest in anticipation of his entry.
“Fuck her hard,” Drake said, repeating his earlier order. “Show her no mercy.”
Oh God.
She began to tremble violently, already in danger of coming.
Manuel pushed forward just until the head of his cock fully lodged inside her and before she could take a breath, he plunged forward, lodging himself to the hilt. She cried out and bucked wildly, uncontrollably.
Manuel’s hands gripped her hips to hold her still, but she fought, not against him, but against the rioting sensations that overtook her body.
“Jesus,” Manuel muttered as he pushed her forward, trapping her between his body and the bed, holding her down as he pumped in and out of her ass.
He was rough, animalistic, taking her, owning her, everything Drake had asked him to do. Her hand, trapped between her body and the bed, moved frantically, chasing the orgasm that was rapidly blooming out of control.
Then to her surprise, Manuel rolled them to their sides, his cock still wedged deep inside her, and he moved her hand, replacing it with his fingers as he stroked and caressed her clit. He thrust in and out of her and Evangeline’s gaze found Drake’s, wanting to share this moment with him. All for him. Only for him.
Lust flared in Drake’s eyes and Evangeline could see the bulge between his legs and in that moment she wished he would take her every bit as hard as Manuel was.
“Get there, Angel,” Drake said harshly. “Don’t make Manuel wait.”
She moaned deep in her throat and threw back her head as Manuel’s mouth found her neck and bit into it with enough force to leave a mark.
And then she simply let go and went flying over the edge, hurtling faster and faster until Drake wavered in and out of her focus, the world blanking around her. She was panting harshly when Manuel gently pulled out of her and then bent to brush a kiss across her forehead.
“Thank you for such a beautiful gift, Evangeline,” Manuel murmured. “I’ll never forget my one night with an angel.”
“You can go now,” Drake said.
Evangeline dimly registered Manuel’s weight lifting from the bed, and she heard the rustle of him dressing and then the door softly shutting as he made his exit. She glanced toward Drake to see him get up and hastily rip his clothing off.
Then he crawled onto the bed, turned her over and was on her and inside her before she could take in a breath.
His mouth covered hers, his tongue plunging as deeply as his cock thrust into her pussy. He devoured her, consumed her, his desire and lust overwhelming.
He felt huge inside her, bigger than he’d ever felt. It was a race to completion and for the first time, he didn’t take care to ensure that she was with him. But tonight was for him. She’d made that clear, and so she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and stroked his back softly, caressing the hard muscles as he took what he needed, gave him all that she had.
He exploded inside her within seconds and then slumped down onto her as she continued to softly stroke his back. He nuzzled against her neck, his lips exploring the delicate skin as he kissed and then nibbled.
“Mine,” he growled. “So fucking beautiful and all mine.”
Evangeline was on her side, firmly nestled underneath Drake’s shoulder, one arm stretched over his bare chest and one leg draped over his. She was as limp as a wet noodle and thoroughly sated. It was so tempting to drift languidly into sleep, Drake’s warm body next to hers, but she was still overwhelmed and trying to process the barrage of conflicting reactions to the way the night had played out.
And maybe she needed further reassurance, even though Drake had made it abundantly clear that he was fine with what had happened. Hell, he’d orchestrated the entire affair so it would be the height of hypocrisy for him to harbor any resentment or jealousy. But still, it wasn’t as though she had any experience with the kind of lifestyle he lived and reveled in, so how couldn’t she be deeply conflicted?
“Drake?” she asked hesitantly.
He lifted the hand of the arm she lay over and ran his fingers through her hair in slow, sensual pulls.
“What’s on your mind, Angel?” he asked in a tender voice.
She burrowed her face further into his chest, suddenly shy and unsure of herself.
“Did I disappoint you tonight? And are you angry that I enjoyed having sex with Manuel? That I orgasmed?”
He turned, shifting so they faced each other, and he looped his other arm around her, pulling her close to him.
“Angel, look at me,” he said softly.
With reluctance and a little bit of dread, she slowly lifted her chin until she finally met his stare. To her relief, his eyes were warm. Affection shimmered in their depths.
“In no fucking way did you disappoint me. You have no idea how erotic and sexy as hell it was for me to watch another man take what is mine, what I own, and for me to command and control his pleasuring of you.”
Her eyes widened in surprise because she just couldn’t grasp the concept. It just seemed incongruous, with all she knew about Drake, that he would allow any man to touch her. Much less have sex with her.
“You are the most beautiful, uninhibited woman I’ve ever had, and you gave me something very special tonight. First and foremost, you gave me your trust unreservedly and never once showed any sign of backing out. And your primary focus was on me. Not the man fucking you. You gave me the gift of yourself. Ownership over your body to do with as I pleased and whether you realize it or not, the amount of trust involved for you to give in to anything I want is huge, and not many women would ever give a man such a precious thing.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
“You are a gift, my angel. And everything that comes with you, everything that makes you who you are. The very best gift that has ever been bestowed on me.”
She cocked her head to the side, studying his serious demeanor. “Why does it arouse you?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “I mean watching, observing another man take me and own me the way you do.”
“First,” he said in a grave tone, “I am the only one who owns you. Never forget that. Manuel was here at my invitation and he was given explicit instructions about what he could or couldn’t do, but there was never any doubt over my ownership. Manuel felt privileged and was honored to be allowed to have you for a brief time. What man wouldn’t be? As for why it arouses me?”
He shrugged, his hand gliding down her waist to cup her ass.
“Why does anything excite someone? Some things just are. In my case, it’s a huge turn-on to do whatever I wish with what I own. That your body, your pussy, your ass, your mouth, every part of your very soul belongs to me and only me, and therefore, that gives me the power to make decisions about how such a precious possession is handled.
“Yes, another man fucked you, but that’s all he did. He fucked you. He gave you pleasure, which in turn gave me pleasure. But he doesn’t own you, doesn’t possess you. He doesn’t have all of you and never will. All of you belongs to me and it makes me hot as hell to watch another man have power over you and bend you to my will in a manner in which I instruct him, because it pleases me to have the privilege—honor—to make the decision to relinquish the pow
“Is this something you will want to do often, then?” she asked quietly.
Drake’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face, looking for some clue or motive behind her seemingly innocent question. But all he saw was honest curiosity.
“I think the better question is whether this is something you would want to happen often.”
Her expression was earnest, her eyes radiating sincerity. “I only want to please you, Drake. I want to make you happy. And if giving me to another man while you watch makes you happy, then of course I’d want to do it again.”
She swallowed and before he could respond, she continued on.
“I looked only at you,” she whispered. “Even when he commanded me to look at him. I watched you, because I wanted to see your pleasure and your enjoyment. You are the one I want, Drake. Not someone else. Yes, I felt pleasure, but you know why?”
His brow furrowed as he studied her, stunned by her admission, her open honesty and the fact that she put it all out there and held nothing back. She was completely vulnerable, and he knew, he knew that vulnerability was one of the worst feelings in the world, and he never wanted her to feel that way with him.
“I enjoyed being with another man because I was pleasing you, and you enjoyed watching another man take and possess what belongs to you. That was my source of pleasure. I can barely recall the physical pleasure he gave me. It was there. I orgasmed. It felt good. I don’t deny that. But my pleasure wasn’t my focus. He didn’t hurt me. I enjoyed the physical aspects. But emotionally, I was only focused on you. And because you looked at me with such warmth, pride and approval, it wouldn’t have mattered who you chose to have sex with me. Because only you matter to me.”
He was incapable of responding, of saying anything at all, so stunned was he by the impact her words had on him. How deeply he felt each and every one of them. He absorbed her impassioned statement, her expression, the sincerity shining brightly in her eyes, and it suddenly felt as though his heart was about to explode out his chest.
“Drake?” she whispered tentatively, her eyes swamped with worry and her lips turned down into an expression of unhappiness. “Did I do or say anything wrong? Are you angry with me?”
His heart about to beat out of his chest, he turned her roughly, spreading her thighs, and as soon as she was on her back, he thrust into her, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her. Just as soon as shock registered in her eyes, it was replaced by a hazy glaze of passion and need.
He withdrew more gently than he’d plunged into her, mindful of how tender she must be after taking on two different men in the span of a few hours, and then surged forward again, burying himself in her silken depths.
He stared fiercely down at her, even as his hips moved back and forth, setting a leisurely pace, but he ached. Down deep where he’d never felt anything, had never allowed anyone close enough to touch that part of him.
“No. Fuck no,” he said forcefully. “Goddamn it, Angel. How the hell do you turn me inside out like this? You have me so twisted up inside that I can’t fucking breathe. Angry with you? Hell no. You think you did something wrong? Nothing you’ve done is wrong. You are everything that is right and perfect and good in my world. Don’t ever think you’ve said or done anything wrong. Until the day you lie to me, I will never have reason to be angry or disappointed with you.”
Already close to going over the edge and losing himself in her silken femininity, he thrust fully into her and remained there, embedded to the hilt, his chest heaving with emotion and need. So much need. It was as if she’d opened an old wound, making it raw again. As if for the first time since his childhood, when he’d learned early to shut himself off to others and feel nothing, he was feeling again. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation. He felt far too exposed and, goddamn it, vulnerable. The very thing he’d lamented her feeling just moments ago.
“I’ll never lie to you, Drake,” she said, her voice, even her expression extremely solemn and sincere. “I’ve given you my unconditional trust, and I’d like very much if you could trust me in the same way. I understand if it’s too soon, if it’s not something you can give me right now. But one day, I hope to gain it, because having you, having your trust, is all I will ever want. Not your money. Social status. Nothing but you and my hope that you’ll have as much faith and trust in me as I do you.”
Ice-cold fear pervaded his chest, momentarily freezing him, rendering him incapable of speech. He trusted few people in his life. Less than ten and all were his brothers. He’d never trusted any woman he’d been with much less had unconditional faith in one. Experience had taught him that the women who flocked to him had no interest in him. Only what he could provide them. But fuck it all. He had to say something to her. He couldn’t lie there and stare at her like a fucking moron.
He could almost feel her slipping through his fingers like running water. Impossible to hold on to. Women, especially a woman like her, who put it all out there, baring her heart and soul made herself vulnerable, open to rejection. She, who was the most honest, sincere person he’d ever known, wouldn’t stay with a man if she didn’t feel as though he would ever return the very things she so unconditionally offered him.
But she seemed to understand the internal war that raged within him. She smiled sweetly, her eyes warm and full of understanding as she placed one finger over his lips.
“I don’t expect you to trust me or have faith in me this instant,” she said, her voice full of all the sweetness that made her the angel she was. His angel. “Trust and faith must be earned and it doesn’t happen overnight. In time it will come. Or it won’t. All I’m telling you is that you have both from me. No conditions. No reservations. No going back. And I hope that one day you can offer me the same unreservedly. I don’t want the words just to placate me, Drake. Words are meaningless. Never give me those words unless you truly mean it. But until such time as you feel those things and demonstrate them, I’ll be here waiting. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you decide you no longer want me.”
There was a hint of sadness as she said the last, her eyes dulling before she visibly composed herself and offered him the warmth of her smile, her eyes brightening once more.
Not want her? Her entire statement was filled with enough fodder for him to be thinking and reflecting on for months, if not years. But not want her?
Okay, so maybe in his past affairs—he wouldn’t call them relationships, because to do so would demean what he had with Evangeline now—such a statement from the woman involved would be likely—no, not even likely. It would be an eventuality. Inevitable. Because he never kept the same woman for more than a day, two at the most. But even given the short amount of time he’d known Evangeline, he couldn’t imagine not wanting her. And that scared the shit out of him.
He buried his face in her hair, overwhelmed by her generous, loving nature and his acknowledgment of the selfish bastard he was.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said, gruffly giving voice to something he’d never before said to another woman. Something he’d never believed before now or even entertained. But he knew, whether his heart and mind were in agreement or not, that Evangeline deserved far better than he could ever give her. Even as the thought of her with another man sent fiery rage through his veins.
He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair, nuzzling lightly through the satiny tresses.
“I don’t deserve to walk on the same ground as you. But God help me, I won’t give you up. I can’t give you up. You deserve a man who can offer you all the things you give to him and more. More than I can give you, Angel. You deserve far better than I can ever give you.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve decided you can’t give me up since I don’t plan on going anywhere,” she said lightly. “I’m yours, Drake. For as long as you want me, I’m yours.”
He could envision the smile he was certain was on her face. The one that lit up an entire room and bathed it in sunshine. He knew without seeing her exactly what she looked like right this very moment, and it only made him feel like an even bigger bastard.
She tenderly tugged his head away so their gazes met and then cradled his face with her palms, her touch as soothing as an ocean breeze. There was such gentle understanding in her eyes that the rock-hard shell that had surrounded his heart and mind for so much of his life began to crack and splinter, and he knew he couldn’t allow it to shatter and fall apart. How could one innocent woman wreak so much havoc in his well-ordered existence? A daily routine that had become an unyielding ritual, shot to hell, not to mention the conscience he had never possessed picked now to reveal itself? He was as merciless and as cutthroat as they came. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by being soft or suffering symptoms of a conscience or by adhering to any rules save his own. And yet one tiny woman threatened the only way of life he’d ever known? The life he’d created for himself out of sheer necessity.
He knew he should cut her loose now. Do the right thing and push her away. Let her go before he ended up destroying them both. But at least the cold, ruthless man he had been for as long as he could remember hadn’t disappeared—yet. And thank God for that, because as long as he remained a heartless, selfish bastard there was no way in hell he would ever let Evangeline go.
If that made him a complete asshole, then so be it. He would shield her from the reality of the world he lived in and make sure that his other life—the one she had no knowledge of—never touched her in any way.
He’d learned at a very young age that nothing is ever guaranteed and promises are rarely—if ever—kept. But he would make himself one promise right now, a risk he’d never before taken, because broken promises to others were bad enough, but breaking a vow to himself was unthinkable.
He wouldn’t hurt Evangeline, nor would he ever lie to her. She deserved that much respect and it was more than he ever offered anyone else. He would do whatever it took to protect and shield her from the truth, the reality, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her when she demonstrated so much trust and faith in him.
Trusting others was an alien concept to him, but for her, he would try. He could learn. She’d already taught him much. That good did exist in a world that hadn’t done much to prove that fact to him. She’d given him no reason to doubt her or her motives, and that alone was far more deserving than what he currently offered her. Anything that money could buy, but his angel wasn’t for sale. Couldn’t be bought. What she wanted most was something he wasn’t sure he could give her.
He trusted his men, as much as he was capable of trusting someone, but he wasn’t fool enough to think they’d never betray him. Could he ever offer Evangeline something he couldn’t even give men he considered brothers? He didn’t have an answer to that yet, but he could damn well try.
He eased from the velvety clasp that clutched greedily at his dick, causing them both to emit a low moan after his remaining at maximum depth with no movement for a prolonged period of time.
She felt swollen and tight around him, his cock hypersensitive as her inner walls clamped down and squeezed as though protesting his retreat.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.
“No. Yes. God, I don’t know. Just don’t stop.”
Her voice was tight and hoarse and her hands flew to his shoulders, her nails digging deep, marking him as he’d marked her in the past. The visual of her brand on his skin catapulted him into a frenzy.
He began pumping into her, his pace frantic and yet she still urged him on. She arched, meeting every thrust. Her face was a wreath of agony and ecstasy.
“Get there, Angel,” he ground out even as he felt the first violent expulsion of his semen pulsing deeply into her pussy.
She cried out, her nails sharper, digging even deeper, breaking skin, and he reveled in the sharp bite of pain.
He pushed her harder and harder, faster and faster until the sound of flesh meeting flesh was loud in his ears. She screamed his name and shattered, wrapping her arms and legs so tightly around him that he could do nothing more than wedge himself as deeply as he could go and feel each and every pulse of his release jet into her body.
He lowered himself, burrowing his arms beneath her so that he held her every bit as tightly as she held him. Then he sagged, allowing his weight to cover her like a blanket, his dick still buried in her sweetness, each small aftershock as the last of his release was pulled from him quaking over his entire body.
He rested his forehead beside her temple and shuddered as her warm breaths puffed over his nape. He’d never felt so relaxed and at ease in his life even as guilt crept over him for allowing himself this selfish luxury when she’d given him everything while he still held a part of himself—his soul—from her.
But then she turned her head ever so slightly, just enough that her lips brushed the base of his hairline and she kissed him. One small, exquisite kiss that he felt to his toes. Her body still wrapped firmly around his tightened as she hugged him closer to her, if it was even possible that there was any space left between them.
“Thank you for giving me the gift of your pleasure tonight,” she whispered. “I wanted so badly to do something solely for you. To please you. To show you that you matter to me, Drake. If you ever feel as though you matter to no one, remember tonight and know that you are so very important to me.”
He couldn’t respond for the knot that hastily clogged his throat. All he could do was squeeze her to him, not wanting anything to come between them in this moment. Not his fears, his guilt or remorse. Because nothing could ever make him regret this day. For one wonderful night, time had stopped, and he had seen heaven for the first time in his life. He had felt peace unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and he had learned what it felt like to be surrounded by the wings of an angel.
There was a glow surrounding Evangeline in the weeks following the night of Drake’s decadent fantasy and the ensuing emotional revelations between her and Drake that couldn’t possibly be overlooked.
The only shadow that clung to Evangeline was her continued estrangement from her girlfriends. In the beginning, she’d simply been so busy with Drake and focused on meeting his demands and glorying in the discovery of something new and wonderful that she hadn’t given much thought to the passage of time or how she hadn’t spoken to them for a prolonged period.
But then there was also the fact that none of her girlfriends had made the effort to reach out to her either. And that realization didn’t sit well with her at all. If they were her friends, wouldn’t they want her to be happy? And wouldn’t they want to see that she was happy? How could they know if they didn’t bother to even call or text her?
The argument always circled back around to Evangeline and her own culpability, and guilt would surge hard and strong because just as her girlfriends hadn’t tried to contact her, she hadn’t contacted them either.
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