The longer we stared, the more awake I became.
Whatever chemistry existed between us became tainted—different.
My ideas of using him for freedom seemed ridiculous now I wasn’t so fuzzy headed and afraid.
He should leave before Master A killed him. This charade has gone on long enough.
“Fuck.” His head fell back as a low growl escaped his bitten lips. “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
I shivered with a mixture of disgust and enthrallment.
Did he want me to care? Did he want me to sympathise with his confusion?
I won’t.
I was grateful for the small reprieve he’d given but I wouldn’t forget what he’d done before. He’d made me retreat to protect myself. He’d proven he didn’t understand the word no, even if I never verbally said it.
I huffed, ignoring the urge to cross my arms and cock my chin at the door.
You can leave whenever you want.
“Is it screwed up that I find you stunning? Is it fucked up that I don’t care you’re not standing naked because you want to…only because I ordered you to.” He resumed his pacing. “Shit, this was a bad idea.”
His eyes flew to his blazer thrown over the edge of the bed.
Huh, he must’ve picked it up. It was on the floor when I’d fallen asleep.
His face contorted as if battling the desire to get dressed and leave or stripping naked and finishing what he’d threatened.
If I were any normal girl, I would’ve fallen to the mattress and covered myself from his lewd stare. To answer his dilemma and force him to choose the first option and leave.
But I wasn’t and I hadn’t been given instruction to fold, so I remained standing, even when he paced away with his trousers and belt jangling, entering my bathroom to splash cold water on his brow.
With no door hiding him, I continued staring.
Not that he cared.
What had he been thinking about while I slept? Whatever it was had put him on edge.
Had Master A attempted to come in? Did Mr. Prest do something I didn’t know about?
So many questions with no voice to ask.
After swishing his face, he wiped back his hair and buckled his belt. His eyes found mine in the mirror, black with secrets. He didn’t turn away as he dried the final droplets on his hands using the small towel by the sink.
Entering the bedroom, he sat on the stool that complemented the dressing table I never used. Linking his fingers between his thighs, he leaned forward, planting his feet on the white carpet. “Come here.”
Rebellion shook its head, but I fought it down.
These games he played were starting to intrigue me, despite myself. My desire to disappear and avoid him faded, forcing me to remain here with him…for better or for worse.
“Pim, come.”
His heavy timbre forced my limbs to move. I leapt off the bed, hiding my wince as my bruised body did its best to cushion such a stupid activity.
He crooked his finger, summoning me closer. “Don’t be afraid.”
I didn’t make a sound as I padded naked and barefoot to stand before him.
My broken hand hung loosely by my side while my right tightened into a fist, forcing myself to let go of my confusion and questions, becoming mute in both thoughts and body.
Mr. Prest looked up.
With him sitting down, it gave me a few inches above him. But I didn’t for a second believe he’d given me any control over what would happen next.
His voice was a seductive whisper. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t like if you promise you won’t vanish on me again. Deal?”
No.
Yes.
Who the hell are you?
“You’re confused by what we did together, but you didn’t mind it as much as you think you should.”
Stop putting words in my mouth.
My toes clutched the carpet as I dropped my gaze, hoping he wouldn’t be able to read me.
“Seeing as you won’t tell me your thoughts, I’ll tell you mine.” He shifted a little on the stool. “I entered into this deal with Alrik because he has contacts I want. However, in my research, I found he’s a sick fuck who’s killed four other women he claimed were his lovers and has never been prosecuted. He’s also dispatched a few men, but that’s none of your concern. When I dove deeper into the autopsy reports, claims of long-term abuse were prevalent yet still not avenged.”
His hand flashed out, curling around my hip. “He comes from three generations of money. His great-grandfather was in steel manufacturing, his grandfather gambled the stock market well, and his father died young, leaving all of it to him. He’s swindled most of it away, and I did my part in taking a fair chunk off him. However, I knew nothing of you. He kept you hidden. And fuck if that doesn’t piss me off. In my line of work, I need to know everything there is about a person. Now, I know more than enough just from spending time with you.”
He looked at where he touched me.
My skin crawled and heated, utterly confused if it should find some margin of joy from being touched or throw up at being held.
“I came here tonight wanting to fuck you. But I see now that I’ve got all I can out of Alrik. I won’t screw you over too because as idiotic as it sounds, I feel something. I don’t understand it, and it doesn’t make a fucking difference, but there is something between us.”
My nostrils flared.
He felt it, too?
Holding his palm away from my hip, he hovered a few millimetres from connecting. The longer he hovered there, the deeper the tingle from my flesh to his became.
“Feel that?” His eyes captured mine. “Because I do. And it makes me so fucking mad because I can’t seem to resist you.” His hand clamped onto my side again, dragging me into the prison of his spread legs. “The moment I saw you and knew what you were, I wanted you. I don’t care that you’re locked here against your will. I don’t care that I should do the right thing and free you.” His fingers dug harder. “Know why?”
Because you’re just like them.
“Because I’ve lost everything that made me human a long time ago. I shamed myself. I have no fucking honour. I take and take and take. I steal. And when I steal, I find something worth living for. So you see, silent mouse, I’m not here to be the gentleman. I want my answers, and then I’ll leave and never look back.”
His fingers bit into a swirling orange bruise from Master A’s shoe. “I want you out of my mind. Out of my head. Do I make myself clear?”
Wait…you thought about me?
Those three days since we met, I’d been in his mind like he’d been in mine?
My lips twitched to think we’d both thought about each other, not with affection or desire, but with hate for different reasons. He hated the smidgen of power I had over his body. I hated him for the end he represented to my life.
I fought a shiver as he brought me forward with biting pressure, pressing my bare pussy against his tattooed chest. “I’d planned on giving you something in return. So at least I wouldn’t have stolen everything; that I would’ve paid in some small measure. I wanted to give you an orgasm. But I see now…you won’t let me.”
It’s not that I won’t…it’s that I can’t.
The expensive material of his trousers tickled my legs as he tightened his knees, keeping me trapped. “You truly are the worst sort of woman, Pimlico.”
What?
I jerked back, fighting his grip.
He chuckled. “Don’t be offended. I meant it as a compliment.”
You suck at compliments.
“Want to know why you’re the worst?”
My forehead furrowed.
No…
Okay, fine.
“You’re the worst because you’re an addiction. You have so many secrets that all I want to do is rip them out. You have secrets even you don’t know. It takes all my fucking willpower not to do what he does and hurt you to pry them free.??
?
For all his pompous judgement of Master A’s murdering escapades, he was as bad, maybe worse, than the monster I belonged to.
That hurt more than I thought.
Men are all the same.
“That surprises you, I see.”
You saw nothing.
“Are you more surprised that I have the urge to beat you, that I fight the desire to fuck you, but I’m going to walk out that door without laying a finger on you? Or are you more surprised that I’m honest and told you how obsessed I’ve already become with you?”
His touch spread from my hip to my belly button. Never looking away, he pressed his fingertip into the indent in my stomach, pushing hard, somehow activating a thread of pleasure I never knew existed.
I hated sex.
I only knew pain when it came to fucking, and pain did not turn me on. Even the one instance where fumbling fingers and sloppy kisses had conjured any sort of desire was overshadowed by the fact that Scott (my first and only two-week boyfriend) had used me just like any man.
He might not have sampled my body but he’d used my mind. Copying my answers on his homework, asking me to help him cheat his exams.
Maybe all of this is my fault, and I just let men use me?
Not just men.
My mother had used me as her perfect daughter.
A killer had used me as a convenient sale.
Why should Mr. Prest be any different?
He interrupted my dark thoughts. “The thing is, you’ll never understand me, just as I won’t understand you. I don’t talk much, either. I prefer silence. I find it grants more than takes away.”
I tilted my chin in disagreement.
You’re pretty talkative currently.
His eyelids hooded as his arm wrapped around my back, dragging me forward. His nose skimmed my belly. “You’re right. For some reason, I talk enough for both of us when I’m around you. Let’s just say, I like to talk when in bed. Sex is where the truth comes out, regardless of what we try to hide.”
We aren’t in bed…
His excuse made no sense.
“Fuck, what am I saying?” Launching from the stool, he paced toward the door. “I need to go.”
Go?!
But you can’t…not until I figure out how to use you to free me.
The rigid outline of another erection showed in his slacks. He hadn’t put on his t-shirt and his tattoo was just as impressive with the dragon’s tail flickering with impatience over his liver as it was from the front protecting his heart.
“Ah fuck, I can’t. Not until I’ve—” Yanking a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily. “Shit, I shouldn’t—”
Stopping by the mattress, he shook his head and once again crooked his finger. “Fuck it. Come here. There’s something I need to do.”
My feet glued to the carpet.
Do what, exactly?
Did it matter? I was running out of chances to make him want me enough to steal me. He’d already admitted he wanted me in ways he shouldn’t. I needed gumption to use that addiction against him.
I took a step forward.
He smiled, sharp and as dangerous as his dragon. “Good girl. A little closer.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying him as his hands opened and closed by his thighs. He looked back and forth between me and his blazer, once again guilt and bewilderment on his face.
Whatever he wanted to do would pain him as well as me.
What is he afraid of?
Curiosity was stronger than my fear.
I tiptoed toward him.
WHAT THE FUCK are you doing?
I turned off my mind.
I couldn’t control my body or its pounding lust as Pimlico padded closer, but I could switch off the berating questions of my sanity.
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do this. While she slept and the desire to take what I wanted snowballed, I’d chained myself with obedience.
Fucking good my self-control turned out to be.
I’m allowed one of everything.
And I wanted one of this.
So. Fucking. Much.
But this goes against—
I shut off my thoughts.
Even if it was wrong, I’d never have it again. I needed to know what it felt like before I walked out the bloody door and never looked back. After this, I would leave. I wouldn’t wait for Alrik to bulldoze through our sanctuary and steal his slave.
He could have her.
She was too much for me.
Too much work, too much temptation, far too much addiction. I was glad Selix had hung around with the car because the sooner I was out of here, the better for everyone.
When Pim reached my side, I pointed at the bed. “Sit down.”
Unlike her other fractiousness, she obeyed immediately.
Her thighs hid the place she’d touched so unwilling, her ribcage pressed against her skin as she breathed faster with uncertainty.
She looked so goddamn beautiful even while bordering broken.
Looming over her, I paused.
If I did this, I would be slaughtering more than one law in my world. I would pay for it for months afterward.
But if I didn’t do this, I would forever wonder, and I didn’t like fucking wondering. It was a waste of time. Time I needed to dedicate to my empire. I’d take this one last thing from her and then…it was over.
Never looking away, I slammed to my knees.
She gasped as we became eye-level and every wildness inside me told me to flip her over and fuck her. Just take what I wanted.
But she would shut down like before.
She’d bury herself deep.
And I didn’t want to claim her body.
I wanted her mind.
She was wily and adaptive and this was the only way I could harness a piece of her and make her stay.
I just didn’t know how much of myself I would give up in the process.
HIS HANDS CAME up.
I jerked away, but his strong fingers lashed around the back of my head, keeping me pinned. Familiar terror froze me as the button for pain doused my senses. I couldn’t stop it. I’d been brutalised too many times to override such an instinctual shutting down.
“I won’t hurt you.” His breath kissed me first. His promise did nothing to calm my nerves. The way he kneeled before me twined barbwire through my heart, making it bleed. In that one small position, he gave me more power, more respect than I’d ever been given.
It gutted me.
But then his lips landed on mine.
And the world slammed to a stop before spinning wildly in the wrong direction.
I didn’t know what to do, how to act.
Should I pull back?
Bite him?
Give in to him?
I froze.
Should I flee?
Hide?
Sink down where he couldn’t touch me?
I shivered.
I couldn’t do anything because his lips were the perfect collar, keeping me leashed tight and trembling.
First, his questions had worn me down, and now, he’d finally taken something physical.
A kiss.
His tongue slipped into my mouth.
My chin arched on its own accord, desperate for passion even when I didn’t know what it was. Bubbling, bulldozing heat whipped like horse-galloping chariots in my blood.
Master A rarely kissed me, and if he did, it was wet and wrong. But this…there was nothing wrong about this. Peculiar, definitely. Astounding, absolutely. But wrong, not at all.
My lips sparked for a different type of kiss from a different type of man, but for some reason, Mr. Prest stopped.
His mouth feathered on mine as if testing to see how far he’d pushed me, how far he’d pushed himself. His eyes blazed with the need to stop. But his lips beckoned me to start and never cease.
I wanted him to stop.
I needed him to stop.
But a small microscopic part of me denied
my lies. My heart shook its head, reaching out for more tenderness, knowing without being told that this was the only time I would receive such a thing.
If I didn’t let myself live in this second, while a handsome stranger gave me something I’d forever thought was lost, then I was an idiot.
I did want this.
I needed this.
I deserve this.
“Do you want me to kiss you? Will you let me take one thing from you?”
Once again, his question was meant to trip me up and force me to reply.
He was good.
He’d befuddled my mind with dreams and kisses and now expected me to nod with permission.
But I’d been silent for too long to slip.
Instead of nodding or pulling away, I remained where I was. Our breaths mingling, our bodies tingling, and the chemistry that’d made us aware of each other from the beginning dragging us faster into its charm.
He half-smiled, huffing in impatience. “You really won’t talk, even though you know I’m not like him.”
I stared into his eyes, forcibly ignoring the call to answer.
I expected him to end the kiss he’d bestowed, to stand up and stalk away. But his gaze dove deeper, tearing past my unruliness, finding something he accepted.
“Fuck, you’re strong.” His lips landed on mine again.
His fingers tightened around my face, holding me firm. His hold was both comforting and a shackle.
Most of me wanted to run.
But as his tongue once again teased my mouth, I let go of what I should and shouldn’t do. In two years, I’d never allowed myself to think I was broken. I wasn’t broken. I was still alive. But I knew something Mr. Prest did not.
Master A wouldn’t care that his guest hadn’t slept with me. He wouldn’t care that nothing had truly happened between us. He would kill me anyway.
I’d been his most expensive trophy, but tonight was the night another man tarnished me, and I’d slipped from mantel to box.
To a coffin.
My heart jangled as if trapped in a money jar, desperate to feel something good before more bad could find me. I leaned into the kiss, giving him a soundless reply that yes, I wanted him to kiss me, that yes, I was grateful for what he’d given me, even though I still loathed him for using my father’s nickname for me.