He pulled back and rocked into me again, and again. I raised my legs, hooking my ankles over his ass as he continued to fuck me without restraint.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling halfway out again.
“Dustan.” I dug my fingertips into his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”
He looked down at me, his breath ragged, several locks of dark hair hanging loose over his forehead.
“Never.” He plowed forward. “I can’t be soft with you,” he said between thrusts.
“Don’t. I don’t…fuck…I don’t want…fuck!” My body wound up, ready to spring into oblivion as he ground his hips into me with each new thrust of his cock. “Not gentle,” I said, hoping I finished my thought in a way he’d understand. I didn’t want his softness. I wanted this. The raw, animalistic claiming.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted, feeling the tension peak. My eyes widened as my body sprang free of the buildup, and I screamed. I yelled his name and any other word that popped into my head while my body catapulted through the electricity he’d ignited.
“That’s it, darlin’. That’s it,” he cheered as I slowly sailed back to him. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my nose and wiped the hair from my face. “Gorgeous,” he whispered and began thrusting into me again. Slow but firm strokes dragged me back to him, and I gripped his shoulders, sinking my fingernails deep.
He growled, a low and sultry sound that should have warned me the animal was being unleashed. But I was too caught up in the fire burning in his eyes, in the raw beauty of him as he took me harder and harder still to heed any caution. I arched my back, taking him even deeper. He stretched me, fucked me, hurt me, and every thrust of his hips brought another round of painful pleasure.
“Fuck!” he ground out between clenched teeth. He hooked his arm beneath my knee, yanking my leg up, and intensified his movements. His jaw tensed as his hips rocked harder and faster. I sensed his need matched my own. Felt him teetering on the edge that would throw him into the abyss with me.
Another sharp thrust, and he stilled, his body firm while his release whisked him away.
He rested his forehead against mine, collecting his breath but still stealing mine. I ran my hand down his back, feeling for the first time raised scars. How had he been hurt? And by whom?
“Dustan.” I wanted to ask him, but when he leaned up and looked into my eyes, the question died away. The darkness seemed to ebb away, and now he was just—him. No anger or danger, just a man staring down at me with concern and longing.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
I laughed. “You like when you hurt me,” I pointed out.
“Usually,” he agreed with a smile. “But I didn’t go easy.”
I brushed his hair from his forehead. “I didn’t want easy.”
He stared down at me for a long time before slipping free. His hot seed ran out of me, but I didn’t move. I watched him as he climbed out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he had a towel in his hand.
“Open your legs,” he ordered, and I obeyed, letting him clean me. He ran the warm, wet cloth through my folds, between my ass cheeks and over my thighs.
Once he was finished, he took the towel back into the bathroom. I slid off the bed, grabbing my sweater and shoved it back on. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I turned my ass toward it to see the damage.
“Shit.” I touched a red stripe.
“Tomorrow’s car ride is going to be rough for you, so I wouldn’t go being bad again for a while,” he said from behind me.
I saw him in the mirror, sliding his boxers up over his hips. It wasn’t enough to hide the deliciousness of his body, but I forced my gaze back to my ass.
The warmth rushing through my chest when I pressed down on the marks surprised me. Shouldn’t I be repelled by the lashings? Instead, I was almost proud of them, and I definitely enjoyed seeing them.
I yanked my sweater down and stomped over to the bed. Space between us would clear my head. He was twisting me into some sort of sick woman who got off on his arrogance and authority. He was fucking with my head.
I pulled the covers down and climbed into bed. I faced away from him and tucked the blanket beneath my chin. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten my goal was to get the hell away from him, not be claimed by him, not belong to him in any way.
The bed dipped behind me as he got beneath the covers with me. He flicked off the lights over the bed and tossed his arm over my waist, dragging me toward him. I bit down on my tongue when my ass hit him.
“Whatever you’re doing to yourself in that head of yours, you should stop. Getting lost up there won’t help,” he said with the same level tone he always used.
“I’m tired. That’s all,” I lied.
He squeezed my middle. “Try again, darlin’.”
“You don’t get to know every thought that crosses my mind.” I punched the pillow beneath my head and wiggled beneath his arm—but he wouldn’t let me go.
He released a deep breath. “Get some sleep. It’s a long drive tomorrow.”
“Are you finally going to tell me where the hell we’re going?” I asked, letting my frustration show.
He pinched my hip. “Watch that attitude, darlin’. Ask me real nice, and maybe I’ll answer.”
I bit my lip, determined not to give in to him. Which lasted all of a minute.
“Dustan, can you please tell me where we’re going?”
He kissed my shoulder. “New Orleans.”
I tensed. “Why?”
“Because that’s where Arthur is, and that’s who we are going to see.” He hugged me tighter to him. “No more questions. Get some sleep.”
Sleep? Who the hell could sleep after that?
Dustan
Cherise slept like the dead. It had taken me two slaps to her ass and the threat of a full-on spanking to get her out of bed, but she finally complied. I chose to ignore the nasty glare she shot at me while she scooted to the bathroom with her clothes to shower and dress. I even gave her space when we climbed into my car to start the drive.
After an hour on the road, I’d pulled off the highway and driven through to get her a breakfast sandwich. She hadn’t said anything, but her stomach had been growling for twenty minutes. Whatever she was thinking, she was really getting herself twisted into some serious knots.
When I handed her the sandwich, she’d taken and unwrapped it without a word, and I’d still let her have her space.
But we were five hours in and would be at Arthur’s estate in another two. She needed to get whatever her problem was solved by then. I didn’t need to worry about her shooting her mouth off to Arthur while we were there. I just needed his final decision and information so I could make my next move with her. If she got on his bad side, started pissing him off, she could make everything go sideways for both of us.
“Ready to tell me what’s eating you?” I asked, turning off the radio.
She glanced over at me then refocused her attention on the road in front of us.
“I shouldn’t have let you—I mean I shouldn’t have.” She stopped talking and growled. A cute, rough sound that probably didn’t truly emulate the powerful regret she was holding close to her chest. “Last night was a mistake,” she finally blurted.
“Which part?” I asked.
“What?”
“Which part was a mistake? When I spanked you, or when I fucked you?”
I could practically feel her cheeks heating up from the driver’s seat.
“Or was it that you liked both that’s the mistake? Or that you needed both?” I would pull the truth from her, even if I had to stop the car.
She exhaled like it took all her energy to do so. I reached across the center console and grabbed her hand, lacing our fingers together.
“You’ve never had a man smack your ass before?” I forced a lightness to my question. She was already spooked enough because of her reactions the night before.
�
��No.” She shook her head and kept her eyes focused on our entangled hands.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” I said, squeezing her hand.
“I shouldn’t have—” She exhaled again and pushed her head back against the headrest of her seat.
“You shouldn’t have enjoyed it. You should have hated every second of my touch.” I supplied the words for her worry when she seemed unable to get them out on her own.
“You’re not a good man,” she whispered.
I squeezed her hand again. “I’m not. That’s right.”
“You’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you say.”
“I’ll punish you, yes,” I agreed.
“And if Arthur tells you to get rid of me…you will.” And there it was.
The real worry.
The real question. Would I go against Arthur if he put a target on her head?
When no one else could understand me, Arthur did. When I had nothing but my skills and my anger to keep me alive, Arthur put them to good use. We weren’t good men, but we were good to each other.
“We aren’t at that bridge yet, darlin’. Don’t try crossing it just yet.” I ran my thumb over her palm. It was the only comfort I could give her.
“The bridge you’re going to throw me off of?” She tried to laugh but ended up sucking in a breath and closing her eyes. The tension in her hand grew and, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wanted to promise everything would be all right.
“We have another hour before we get there,” I said and let her hand go, patting her knee. “Don’t get yourself all worked up. I told you—when I take something, I don’t let go.”
She turned the radio on, filling the car with music to block out the conversation we couldn’t have.
We finished the drive without any more conversation. I would let her have some peace, but I wouldn’t let her crawl back into her head though. When she started to pull away, I reached over and held her hand. When she went too still, I pinched her thigh. I kept her with me in the present. Because diving into the future was too uncertain, and slipping into the past was too dangerous.
Cherise
My stomach twisted into a tangled knot when Dustan parked outside Arthur’s mansion. Not exactly what I expected from an underworld boss, but I supposed that’s what he wanted. The lawns and gardens were perfectly manicured and beautiful. The entire estate was meticulously groomed. Somehow the perfection made me more nervous. If Arthur found me lacking, would he have Dustan kill me right there?
I flipped down the visor and checked myself in the mirror. I didn’t have any makeup or my flat iron. The motel shampoo hadn’t been very generous, and the conditioner had been a joke. My hair was dull and all over the place. Random curls poked out everywhere, and the fragranced soap had left my cheeks red.
Dustan laughed softly from the driver’s side where his keys dangled from his fingers. “You look fine, darlin’.”
I sighed.
“You don’t lie very well,” I said with an eye roll.
He grabbed my chin and twisted my head to make me look at him. “I have never and will never lie to you, Cherise. When I say you look fine, you do.”
I studied his face, the severity of his frown, the darkness edging its way back into his eyes. He took these moments of self-depreciation seriously.
“Okay.” I touched his wrist.
“You’re still nervous.” He didn’t let my chin go.
“Wouldn’t you be?” I asked quietly.
“He won’t hurt you.”
“That’s what he has you for.”
“Arthur isn’t unreasonable. I will find a way to make this okay. For everyone.” The loyalty Dustan felt toward Arthur rang through his statement, but his vow to keep me safe lingered there between the words.
I nodded because what else could I do? Dustan, as scary, as dangerous, as strict as he was, had not lied to me since we met. He’d whipped me, spanked me, fucked me, kidnapped me, but he had never been dishonest. An odd trait for a killer—honesty—but there it was. And if he said he’d make this okay, I had to believe him. “Okay.”
“You’re not even going to talk to him, okay? You’re safe here, but I don’t want you wandering around. Once I get us settled in our room, you are going to stay there—right?” He brushed a hair from my face with the tips of his fingers. Just the light dusting of his touch sent a shiver through me, waking my desire for more.
“Of course,” I promised, the tenderness in my ass reminding me of what crossing him would result.
He scrutinized me with suspicious eyes before breaking into a chuckle and letting my chin go. “I’m not sure your ass could handle another spanking, darlin’. Be good for me today.” He trailed a fingertip along my jaw. “Really good things come to good girls.”
I swallowed, trying to get rid of the dry scratch in my throat. When he looked at me like that, like a deep-rooted hunger was taking him over, all my nerve endings fired up, waiting for him to calm them again.
“Okay,” I said.
He brushed his lips across mine then pressed his lips to my ear. “When I have you alone tonight in my bed, I’m going to lick every inch of you. And when I have you squirming and crying for me, begging me to let you come—I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll scream for me. I love when you scream for me, darlin’. Your cries are too beautiful to keep from me.”
Tingles shot straight to my pussy. I went wet, saturating my panties and craving his cock. Fuck, I wanted him to do all of those things and more.
He bit my earlobe then pulled back, touching his finger to my lips when I started to speak.
“Be a good girl so I can deliver on my promise.” He tapped my mouth.
I barely registered his words before his door was open and then mine flew open as well. He was there, helping me out. How’d he get around the car so fast?
His damn promises had me all muddled. He’d probably planned it that way, to keep me quiet, to keep me obedient as he led me up the steps to the entrance of the gorgeous New Orleans mansion.
The inside of the mansion warranted a longer look than Dustan allowed. The decor, the furniture, the ambiance all gave the very distinct impression of wealth, but more than money—a wealth of power. Dustan didn’t give me time to take it all in before whisking me up a set of winding stairs to the second floor. He tugged on my hand when I slowed to admire a painting, and cast a stern glare over his shoulder when I tried to dig in.
“I just wanted to see something,” I muttered as he swung me toward a door and produced a key from his pocket.
“Not now. Maybe later,” he said as he slid the key into the lock. I wouldn’t get to wander. He’d already made that clear to me in the car, which meant he’d have to take me on a tour. And with the fierceness of his set jaw as an indicator, I settled myself that I wouldn’t get that tour.
“If being here makes you tense, why are we here?” I asked once in the room. “Shit.” I gasped when he flipped on the lights and the suite illuminated before me. It wasn’t a bedroom but a living area with dark-brown leather couches and dark-stained wood tables to accentuate the sensuality of the room. It didn’t have a gaudy feeling to it, rather it had warmth.
“There’s a bathroom through there.” Dustan, obviously not as breath-taken by the room as me, walked through the room and pointed to a closed door. “The bedroom’s here, another bathroom is attached with a shower and tub.” He slid the double doors along their tracks to reveal the bedroom.
“What, no kitchen?” I tried to joke, but I was still taking in the room. I’d never seen such luxury before. The wood flooring had to have cost more than my rent for an entire year. Alternating between three dark hues, it lightened the severity of the room.
“There’s snacks and drinks if you want.” He showed me the wood-paneled mini fridge. It blended in with the rest of the furniture, making it look more like a cabinet.
My gaze roamed over to him. “Snacks.”
His
brow wrinkled. “Yeah. Everything you need is in here, so no excuse to leave this suite.”
“Are there other men like you living here?” I asked. He’d led me down a long hallway of doors to his room.
“We all have our own suites. No one is expecting me except for Arthur, so there shouldn’t be any visitors. But if someone knocks, you don’t answer, and you don’t unlock the door.” He jerked his finger toward me.
“You don’t trust these men you work with?” I tilted my head to the side.
He straightened his stance. “I trust every one of them with my life. And yours. But until I have this all situated, you stay in here.”
“You’ve been tense since we got here. Why?” I moved toward him. “Should I be worried? Should I maybe hide in case you come back with your gun drawn again?” My nervousness ramped up my facade. He could very well return to execute me. He’d made no promises to go against Arthur if I was too much of a loose end to deal with.
He met me in the middle of the room, capturing my shoulders with his hands and running them up and down my arms. “I’ll worry about that. You just be a good girl for me and stay in here.”
“You think calling me a good girl will just send me into some sort of obedient trance,” I accused in a soft voice. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but I wanted him to be. I wanted those words to have a hell of a lot less effect on me than they did.
“Do you remember what I said would be your reward if you don’t get into any trouble?” His thumbs caressed my skin, sending little jolts of electricity through me.
“Yes.” I nodded, trying to play it off. Like all the promises of ecstasy hadn’t made my insides gooey.
“Just remind yourself of that if you start getting an itch to be a bad girl.” He gave my arms a squeeze then released me. “Because what happens to bad girls, Cherise?”
He opened the door and waited there, the glow of the hallway surrounding him and casting him in shadow.
Valor: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 9