Page 5 of Wedlocked

Nothing about me had been enough of a distraction to divert his suspicious mind. Not that I blamed him. His guarded nature had been what had kept him alive all these years while many others had fallen by the wayside. How could I have forgotten his older brother who’d died with a bullet in his head thanks to our turf wars?

Goose bumps prickled across my skin. If Ethan even half-suspected I was a Costa I’d be dead within the hour—no doubt after he’d fucked me and tortured me, then thrown me away with the rest of his garbage.

The hatred between our families knew no limits.

I managed a smirk. I wasn’t ready yet to throw in the towel. I valued my life way too much. What was the harm in one more white lie? None, if it meant my heart kept beating. “My dad and my brother aren’t happy about my…career choice, but they’re beginning to understand I’m setting up a future for myself, and that means making men like you happy while I fill up my bank account.”

He didn’t need to know I was full of shit and that I’d settle for making it out of here alive and unharmed.

“Prove it, then,” he growled. At my frown he added, “Take off your pretty little thong and put my dick inside you where it should have been ten minutes ago.”

I pushed off the chair and stood in front of him in nothing but my spiked heels and my thong. Hooking my thumbs beneath the insubstantial scrap of string at my hips, I pulled my thong down slowly, my brain whirring with escape plans even as a part of me actually wished I could have sex with this man.

He wouldn’t be gentle. His eyes didn’t lie. He’d lived a tough life in his short thirty-five or so years. He’d probably fuck me with rough and callous indifference. And yet a part of me yearned for him to do just that. I didn’t need contrived respect, one I knew he’d never give me anyway. What I craved was the danger and excitement, and more importantly, the power he wielded.

I sensed he’d give me that and more.

I straightened proudly in nothing but my high heels. My body was naturally slender, with my breasts a little too large for my frame. That alone seemed to please most men, and Ethan wasn’t immune.

“Allow me to give you one piece of advice,” he said in a raspy voice.

“Of course.” I was intrigued, despite myself.

He dragged a fisted hand up and down his cock. “Don’t let guilt control you, not ever,” he said, almost lazily.

“It sounds as though you’re speaking from experience.”

He snorted. “I learned the hard way guilt is a wasted emotion. You take what you want in life and don’t look back. Not ever.” He blinked, his eyes now burning. “But enough with the small talk, angel. I need you on my dick.”

Holy fuck. My legs went weak even as my mind sharpened and lit up with a lightbulb of inspiration. Pressing a hand to my midriff, I said, “Do you mind if I use the ladies room first. This is terrible timing, but I’m cramping—“

“You think a little menstrual blood concerns me?”

My laugh bordered toward hysteria. “No, I guess it probably doesn’t. But it does bother me. If you will excuse me for—“

“No, you’re not excused.” He pushed to his feet, towering over me and making me realize just how huge he really was even though I still wore my high heels. Something between genuine fear and incredible need pulsed through me, my nipples sticking out and my breasts growing as heavy as my womb.

I tilted my chin up. “I did hear you enjoy fucking women against their will.”

“Then you heard wrong,” he said softly, his voice a warm caress against my scalp. “That’s my father’s perverse enjoyment, not mine.”

I didn’t need to hear Ethan’s preferences, I was only glad rape didn’t factor in them. It didn’t stop me from suggesting, “Perhaps the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You seem to know a whole lot about my family,” he rasped thickly. “Have you fucked my dad?”

“What? N-no! Of course not!”

“You’re definitely his type. He’d enjoy breaking you.” Clamping his hands on my shoulders, he followed me in what could have been a choreographed dance as I backed away from him, doing my best to break free of his hold until my spine jolted against the wall. His body crowded against mine, his eyes glinting darkly. “Is that what you’d like from me?”

I shook my head, my bared breasts rising and falling as I sucked in oxygen. I was failing dismally at this high end whore scenario.

His body completely enclosed mine, blocking out the light, his cock pushing against my stomach. I trembled even before he rocked suggestively against me, his cock sliding up and down my flat belly in a continuation of our perverted dance. He lifted his hands off my shoulders, his fingers then pushing into my hair. My breath hissed at the burn in my scalp before he freed the pins holding my hair in place, one-by-one, then tugged apart my braided hair.

I stayed frozen in place, immobilized by this man, dominated, my willpower so weakened I was caught in a maelstrom between hot need and cold rejection. When he finally released my hair, it dropped to my waist in a thick rush of movement.

As my silver-blonde tresses framed my face, he stepped back, his mouth dropping open. “Fucking spectacular.”

I searched my brain for some sexy rejoinder, something a high-end whore might say. Instead I came up empty, my tongue sliding out to slick over my sandpaper dry lips.

---