Page 29 of Power and Possession

The carpet in her room was completely dry, thanks to the industrial fans Quincy had brought in. I moved towards the closet and grabbed a few bags that he’d placed in there while we were at Stanley’s party.

I left the room and then paused, deciding to grab something for her to eat, and a bottle of scotch for me. It had been a long night, and I wanted a good, stiff drink before I tried to crash on the couch. I rounded up some cheese and bread in the kitchen and cut up some fresh fruit as well. I could have had Quincy do it, but I wasn’t in a mood to explain myself or my actions. I myself could hardly understand why I was pampering the daughter of my enemy.

By the time I got back up to my suite, the water was turned off. I opened the door to the bathroom just far enough to place the bag of clothes on the floor where she could find them, and then closed it again. Walking to my closet, I finally stripped off my slacks, throwing them in the hamper for Quincy to have dry cleaned in the morning, and I pulled on a pair of sweatpants. I debated putting on a shirt, but I knew it would be hard enough for me to sleep with the pants on, given I usually slept in my boxers or completely bare.

I set up the snacks on the coffee table in front of the couch and poured two glasses of scotch. Just as I’d capped the scotch, Ashlynn came out of the bathroom, her hair dried, wearing a deep-blue silk nightgown.

I wanted to give Quincy a raise the moment I saw her in the nightgown he’d purchased, the silky fabric hugging her curves and showing off her gorgeous neck. Her cleavage line was also visible, and I felt my cock harden in my sweatpants. Damn. I’d never cared for lingerie or anything of the sort—I normally just wanted a woman naked so I could stare at her bouncing tits while she rode my dick—but seeing Ashlynn in the little nightgown made me realize what I was missing out on.

“Are you comfortable enough? I could get you a robe.” I mumbled a bit, trying not to lose my cool. I still wantedpower over her, even though I felt myself softening towards this creature.

“I’m okay,” she said, looking down at the snacks. I sat on the couch and patted the opposite side. She sat on the far edge, and I passed the glass of scotch towards her, along with the tray.

She ate greedily, and I felt guilty for the way I’d starved her. Her waistline was smaller since she’d come to me, and I realized I wanted to see her plumper, healthy and robust. I made a mental note to have Quincy start serving her breakfast in bed every morning.

She took a bite of a piece of an apple, and I watched her throat shift as she swallowed. I imagined her swallowing my seed as I pumped it into her lovely mouth, but I stopped myself before I did something I couldn’t take back.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she whispered. Her hair hung in front of her face, and she looked down at her bare toes.

I didn’t have an answer for her. At least one that I was willing to admit to. I let the silence hang in the air for a second, before grabbing the TV remote on the coffee table and switching on the television. I found a rerun of a popular American sitcom, and I let it play while I answered a few emails from Cooper on my phone. Another request had come in for a piece of art that was currently being housed in the basement of the Louvre, and he wanted to know if I’d be able to access it. I fired off the answers, watching Ashlynn out of the corner of my eye. Her eyes were on the TV, but I could tell she was still tense and thinking about what had happened to her. I sighed and set my phone on the table.

“Do you want me to call the doctor?” I offered, watching her expression carefully. “He can examine you and prescribe something to help you sleep.”

“No,” she answered adamantly. “I don’t want to be drugged.”

Again, remorse hit my belly like a flame of fire. I’d drugged her that first night in the basement, and I vowed at thatmoment not to do it again.

“I’m gonna try to go to sleep,” she said, lifting herself off the couch.

“If you need anything, I’ll be out here,” I reminded her. She just looked at me, obviously puzzled by my kindness, and walked back towards the bed.

I turned off the TV and the lights, and stretched out on the couch for what would undoubtedly be a shitty night of sleep.

Chapter Nineteen

Ashlynn

He pushed inside of me, and I screamed. His hand went over my mouth, and he held a knife to my throat.

Steele roared, trying to get to me, but at that moment a shot rang out, and I could hear his body collapse onto the floor.

“Ashlynn!”

I opened my eyes, only to find myself in Steele’s bed, his silk sheets covered in my sweat and twisted around my body. I was still in my nightgown, and there was no one there but the two of us.

“Ash, are you hurt?”

Steele was kneeling beside the bed, a concerned look on his face. My head swam, the scotch and champagne I’d had threatened to come back up as nausea hit me hard.

“I think I might be sick,” I whispered, and before I could say anything else, Steele picked me up and carried me to the bathroom, his strong arms circling around me.

I sat on the floor of the bathroom, dry heaving. Steele looked away, and I wasn’t sure if he was grossed out or just trying to give me privacy. Either way, I was thankful he was there. Of course, the fact that I was nearly raped was entirely his fault, but I had a feeling that he wouldn’t have sent me into that house if he had any idea that it was a possibility.

He handed me a soft towel, once again monogrammed with D.S., and I wiped my eyes and stood up on shaky legs.

His eyes were hollow and blank as he looked at me. “Do you want me to carry you back to bed?”

“No, I can manage.” I was already embarrassed to befalling apart in front of my enemy. I hated showing him how weak I truly was. I wished I could brush off what happened to me, but the truth was, I’d never been so scared in my entire life. More so than when I was in the basement with Steele before. Even when he threatened to touch me, there was an element of control in his actions. Tonight’s encounter was different, and my attacker, Lord Stanley, looked wild and crazed. If Steele hadn’t been there in time…I shuddered, knowing what would have followed.

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