Zoey said nothing, though she did jut out her chin as if daring me to bring Carter in here.
“You should know I am not above mixing pain with pleasure,” I spoke, stepping towards her, reaching for her face. She jerked away from me, and I knew right then and there I needed to get Carter.
Never breaking eye contact with her, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, dialing Carter’s number. He picked up on the second ring; I knew he probably was waiting for me to call him, to tell him I needed him in here to help tame the girl.
“Come to my office,” I ordered, grinding my teeth as I gazed upon Zoey and her boldness. Being bold, being disobedient did not automatically make you strong. This was not a situation where traits like that were welcome; the sooner she realized she was mine, we could all move on from this.
I said nothing more, hanging up.
Zoey folded her arms across her chest, and I pushed off my desk, walking around to the door, the only way in or out of my office. She wouldn’t try to run; Zoey might play like she was courageous and resistant to me, but deep down, she wasn’t. It was all a show, a farce, a charade she put on… but for whose benefit? For her own, to prove to herself that she didn’t need a man in her life after her previous ex had fucked her over?
I was unlike her ex in every single way; I would never fuck her over—not unless she asked for it.
No, right now this was a battle of wills, and mine would emerge victorious. I would be the winner here, not Zoey.
Carter wasn’t far from the office, for within a minute, he strode inside, stopping as he stood beside me, his green eyes landing on Zoey. “Is something wrong?” he asked, an edge to his words I detected immediately.
“Yes,” I said. “Zoey here believes she can walk away from me, from you, from all of this.” I ran a hand down the front of my suit, tilting my head at her, watching how she watched me, trying to hide the emotion on her face. Poor Zoey was an open book; it wasn’t difficult to see how much she wanted to be put in her place.
The man beside me would happily oblige her.
Beside me, Carter chuckled darkly. “The only time anyone walks away from Roman,” he spoke to her, “is if he lets them. You won’t be so lucky.” Such finality to his words, such harsh truths, Zoey could do nothing but blink in response.
Oh, no. With how much I’d instantly wanted her, there would be no walking away from this, that much we all knew. This was not me following a flitting fancy; this was me greedily claiming what was mine. Zoey Marbella was mine, and she needed to open those pretty blue eyes and realize it.
“She needs a reminder,” I told him, and he nodded.
Carter strode before Zoey, a bit cocky, but that was just Carter. He’d always been a cocky son of a bitch, even when he was a kid. It’s part of the reason why he and I clicked so well, I think. I took him under my wing, showed him the ins and outs of the business, and I let him have his fun, as long as I got to watch. As the years went on, though, it became something more. Carter was a good friend to me, a business associate and a loyal companion. I was grateful that I’d taken a chance on him all those years ago.
“You know what I think?” Carter spoke, studying Zoey’s stance, how her gaze twinkled with fire. “I think you like being put down, reminded of where your place is.” He moved around her, standing behind her, one of his arms snaking around her torso and pinning her arms to her sides. “I think you like it when Roman takes charge of you—” He leaned his head down, his nose brushing against her pink hair as he finished, “When he makes me touch you.”
Zoey puckered her lips, but she did not struggle against his grip. She appeared so small with her back against his chest, her head resting on his upper pectorals, like she belonged there. Like this was just another day in the game we played.
Smirking, Carter whispered, “Are you going to lie and deny it?” His other arm went up to her hair, pulling her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. He lowered his face to the crook of her exposed neck, running his tongue along a tender spot and causing her to shiver against him.
She was silent, though her eyes remained on me.
“Take her on my desk,” I said.
And he did.
Carter spun them both, forced her down onto my desk, her top half bent over the wood. He ran a hand along the curve of her ass, its roundness inviting and free of any panty-lines under the tight leggings. His hand followed the curve of her ass, between her cheeks, slowly drawing up and around her. I knew his touch wasn’t gentle, and I heard Zoey gasp when he found what he was looking for between her legs. Probably her clit, and I’d bet any money he pinched it.
The moment he tugged down her leggings enough to bare her ass, I made myself at home on the small sofa, crossing my legs as I felt the blood start to gather in my groin. Carter once again touched her, but this time there was no fabric hindering his movements. This time, I heard him growl out, “Wet already.”
That much didn’t surprise me. I knew Zoey was a masochist when it came to puffing herself up and trying to deny the way she felt about me, about her agreement with me. The girl certainly did enjoy being put in her place, being reminded that she had no choice in this. She might fight, but she wanted this just as much as I did.
She liked being taken. She liked being used. Zoey Marbella was a naughty girl, and she was all mine. Mine to use, mine to take, mine to share, should I so choose. I trusted Carter; he would never cross the line when it came to her, even if he was alone with her, away from me. He was, perhaps, the only person alive I trusted so much.
Carter slapped her ass once before reaching to undo his belt. His cock was already rock-hard; it could go from a limp noodle to hard steel in a matter of seconds, something truly astounding. His pants dropped to his ankles, and he fisted himself once before pushing in—and when he did push his cock into her, the sound she let out was a cry for the ages. A symphony to my soul.
He fucked her against my desk, and he fucked her hard. It was exactly what I liked to watch, what I liked to hear. Zoey was such perfection, it was almost impossible to believe fate brought her here, to me.
Fate had fucked her over first, with her boyfriend fucking her baby sister and causing her to leave all she’d ever known. Fate was a cruel master, but sometimes its cruelty paid off. Every now and then things ended up so perfectly you truly couldn’t ask for anything more.
That’s how I felt right now, watching Carter take her against my desk, knowing his thick cock was inside her, causing her to cry out and grunt with every powerful thrust of his hips. Fate had plucked Zoey from her old life, hand-delivering her to me at the Dollhouse. What I’d thought would be just another night had become something else entirely, something I still played back in my head sometimes.
Carter had Crystal on her knees, his dick shoved down her throat. Zoey had peeked her head in, unaware of what was going on—or maybe she did know, and she simply wanted to watch. Either way, she’d made an impression on me, and as I went home that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting inside me, the desire that filled me when I pictured the pink-haired girl at the club.