Page 28 of Power and Possession

He stood up and looked at me, and for the first time, I couldn’t think of a hostile retort or insult. Instead, I pulled his jacket around me like a shield, and picked up my empty handbag. Steele came over and wrapped an arm around me, and I felt myself weaken and lean on him for support as we exited the room.

We got less than five steps before a woman, dressed elegantly in a long, flowing black chiffon gown, came racingover.

“What are you doing here? This space is off limits.” Her tone was as sharp as her appearance. It infuriated me. I was nearly raped, and this woman seemed concerned about her precious house.

“Your husband tried to rape my fiancée,” Steele said coldly, eyes flashing in anger. “Lord Stanley is currently sleeping off the effects of his actions in the study. When he comes round, tell him that unless he wants the police here and the Stanley name dragged through the mud in the papers and tabloids, he can send his newest acquisition over to my estate.”

He guided me past the woman, who was huffing and puffing like she was trying to blow the whole house down. Steele just ignored her, watching the placement of my feet on each step, providing support when my knees trembled. We finally made it to the bottom, and instead of going back through the kitchen, Steele walked me through the front door, his head held high.

Chapter Eighteen

Steele

My head pounded so hard that I thought my eardrums were going to burst. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to calm the rising tide of anger that threatened to pour from my body. I didn’t know what I was more angry about—the fact that someone touched something that was mine, or the fact that someone touched Ashlynn. When I’d stormed into the study, the sight had terrified me to my core. She was limp, and not fighting. It was like she surrendered herself. The fact that Stanley thought a beautiful woman like that was free for the taking made me clench my fists tighter against the wheel. I shuddered as I envisioned what would have happened if I was there a few seconds later. I pictured him pushing inside of her, claiming the territory I had declared off limits for myself after our tryst. It was ironic—just a few days ago I’d threatened to take her against her will, and now it was so abhorrent to me that I actually felt slightly nauseated thinking about it. The fact that she gave it willingly to me a few nights ago was the greatest high I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t imagine anything better than the willing and drenched body of Ashlynn Phillips.

I glanced over at her, and she was looking out the window, even though there wasn’t much to see in the countryside at night. I had a feeling she wasn’t even really looking, but locked in her own thoughts. She had my tuxedo jacket wrapped around her and her knees pulled up to her chest, as if she was trying to hide every inch of her beautiful body. Bits of her silky hair were pulled out of her elaborate hairstyle, and her dark makeup ran down her cheeks. I looked back in front ofme, eyes on the road, but I couldn’t help but watch her out of my peripheral vision. Even broken, she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen. When Cooper first showed me the picture of her in the coffee shop, I’d thought there was nothing special about her. But her eyes possessed an intelligence and a fire that I’d never seen in a woman before.

She stifled a sob, and for the first time in my life, I felt something stir within me. Something…different. It was like my DNA, my very nature, was fundamentally changing, but I didn’t know what or how or why.

I never wanted this woman to be sad. I wanted to take away her pain, move the earth and the world for her. She deserved to be dripping in diamonds, pampered and cherished. And for some odd reason, I wanted to be the one to do it. Which was even stranger. I didn’t give a damn about anyone but myself. I purposely avoided attachments. I had two friends in life—sex and alcohol. Maybe Cooper, but, even then, I refused to push our relationship into the friendship realm, even though he might consider it as such.

We drove back to the city, the silence resting comfortably between us. I pulled into my garage, killing the engine. Ashlynn didn’t move, still looking out the window. I walked around the car to her side and opened the door. She looked up at me, her tear-streaked face dirty from being on the ground of the study.

Something inside me broke.

I undid her seatbelt and picked her up in my arms again, and she tensed up, but then rested her head against my chest. I hated this; despised how weak she was in the aftermath of her attack. Yet I also relished her helplessness, the softness in which she let me care for her. To have such a strong woman submit to me was a definite turn-on. Such a dichotomy was hard for me to process. I hated gray. Black and white were the only colors I saw.

Ashlynn felt paper-light in my arms, even though she was more womanly than the women I normally messed around with. Her curves were something that set her apart from the stick thin models that usually graced my bed. She wasn’t a girl—she was a woman. I carried her up the stairs to the main level, passing by Quincy, who raised an eyebrow but knew better than to ask questions. I hesitated at the door to the guest room she was staying in, but then quickly moved past it and into my rooms.

Her head jerked up when we entered my private space, and her eyes widened in shock as she looked around the bedroom. It was a nice room, but I knew the surprise factor was that I had let her into my personal quarters.

My room was actually a suite of rooms, with a sitting room first, then the bedroom and bathroom separated off into alcoves. The furniture, from the end table to the large entertainment center, were all dark wood, perfect to match my usual mood. There was a comfortable leather couch right in front of my plasma TV, and a small minibar in the corner. I passed them all, Ashlynn in my arms, and headed into the most private space of all.

My bed was large, with black silk sheets, and I wasn’t ashamed of the fact that I’d shared it with more occupants than I could count—sometimes more than one at a time. But, as I placed Ashlynn on the bed, kneeling to remove her high heels, the contrast of the experiences nearly smacked me alongside the head. We’d hardly spoken since the incident, yet this was the most intimate feeling I'd ever had with a woman—and I’d had many unique sexual experiences over the years.

As though she sensed the stark change in our relationship, she looked down at me, but her expression was hard to read. The innate hatred seemed to disappear, however, and her face was more relaxed than I’d ever seen it, despite what happened tonight.

“Why am I in your room?” she finally croaked, her voice hoarse from the screaming she’d done.

I would normally respond with some sarcastic retort, but tonight I couldn’t.

“I thought you’d be uncomfortable alone. I’ll sleep on the couch in the other room, and you can have the bed.” I stood up,tossing her shoes towards my closet.

Her eyebrows arched towards the sky and her mouth opened in surprise. I’d surprised myself, too. I was originally planning on dumping her on the couch, but seeing the bruise forming on her calf from where she’d been grabbed and the tender flesh on her wrists from the bondage she’d endured in my care, and the harsh treatment of the O’Leary’s, changed my mind.

“Do you want to shower?” I asked.

She looked over my shoulder, towards the massive bathroom with a huge walk-in shower and an even bigger bathtub. I’d originally had it installed so that I could entertain female guests in it, but I found that it was too romantic for the quick lays I had. Most women were out of bed the second I filled the condom, unless I planned on fucking them again in the morning, but even that was rare. Usually once I’d had a woman, the conquest was over and I was bored with her as soon as my dick softened.

“Yes,” was her only reply, and she stood up, much shorter than me now that her heels were off. I walked over to the bathroom, untying my bow tie and unbuttoning my shirt. I hated wearing a tuxedo. I didn’t mind a nice designer suit, but as soon as I was in my house, I wanted to be shirtless and in my boxers or sweats. Ashlynn eyed me nervously as I removed my shirt, so I left my dress pants on. I didn’t care if she saw me naked, but given her assault, I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

Which was absolutely insane, given the fact that a week ago I had her tied to a bed in the basement and threatened to rape her. And a few nights ago, I’d kissed every single inch of her body. But now, the fear in her eyes sickened me.

I turned the water on for her, and placed a towel on the heated towel rack.

“I had Quincy pick up some things for you to wear. I’ll go grab something.”

She nodded, and I shut the door behind me, heading backdown to the guest room.

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