Page 24 of Heart of Stone (Dark Billionaires)

Warren’s only answer was to suck her nipplehard, drawing an ecstatic moan from her lungs. The combination of the abrading mesh and his wet tongue was dizzying.

The first—the only—man she’d ever slept with had been Daniel, and his attentions comprised nothing more than getting her on her back and pumping into her. The only time he’d ever touched her breasts had been to twist her nipple almost painfully, pulling her away from arousal rather than drowning her in it.

Kate’s head fell back against the door in rapture as Warren started on her other breast. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her slickness. Her eyes rolled back when Warren used his free hand to play with the nipple he’d abandoned, working them together until she was immersed in nothing but desire.

A heavy knock on the door travelled directly to her brain, startling her out of her trance.

“Warren?” Rhys’s voice came urgently. “We have a…” Rhys sighed “…a complication.”

Warren stood up straight, once again towering over her. He shifted her just enough to crack the door open. Whatever he saw on Rhys’s face had him stepping back a touch. “We’ll be out in a moment. I’ll bring clothes.”

“We’ll be downstairs.”

He shut the door, ghosting a hand over her cheek. His eyes softened for a brief moment. “Put some clothes on.” He moved to the chest of drawers in which she’d been storing her new clothes from Rhys.

Kate clutched his jacket together, stepping over the remains of her dress. The dress that probably cost more than her monthly income, judging by the designer label. With a pang, she thought of all the debts that were now past due, and the pile of letters she would come home to.

The panic threatened to overwhelm her with misery. She picked up the baggiest jumper there was and stared expectantly at Warren, about to tell him to turn away.

Only to find he was dangling a lacy thong from the tip of his finger with a smirk. “Have you worn this?”

“No.” Kate snatched it away from him and threw it back in the drawer. “And I don’t intend to.”

“A pity. Find some of the less revealing clothes,” he said softly. “There’s a woman out there that needs dressing.”

Saffron huddled in the corner, her right eye swollen and puffy. A tall young woman with a scraggly cloud of white blonde hair that fell to her waist. She’d drawn her legs up on the dark blue sofa, having been sufficiently clothed. Her nostrils flared as she tried to get a hold of her emotions.

“How did you end up with Graves?” Warren leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together.

Kate sat behind Rhys and Warren, feeling more nauseated with every word that left the poor girl’s mouth.

“He offered refuge to my mother when my sister and I were younger. He seemed nice.” Her voice broke on the final word. “Until he set her to work in hisoperation, and when I came of age I was set to work as well.”

Rhys looked down at the floor, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Of age being?”

“My fourteenth birthday. My virginity was sold to the highest bidder.”

“Fucking hell,” Rhys got to his feet, strolling around to the back of his chair. He grabbed it, his shoulders hanging heavy, his knuckles white. “How old is your sister?”

“Thirteen.” She looked at the three of them, pleading with her eyes. “I need to get her out. Please.”

“But there was no one else at the warehouse,” Rhys looked out across the window, to the darkened greenery and the glittering city lights. He gave Warren a side glance. “The Ruislip site Charlton gave us.”

Saffron shook her head sadly. “The last time I saw her was a couple of weeks ago when she moved locations.”

“Why was she moved?” asked Warren.

“There’s a drug-growing operation just outside of London. The people who work there are…” Her face screwed up in disgust. “Slaves, for want of a better word. Like my sister and I. He lures them in, telling them that he can solve their problems. Graves says he just wants to give people a chance to work towards a better life. They’re mostly illegal immigrants, like my mother. He shows them his police documentation, so they trust him, moving to where these so-called jobs are. Then they’re isolated, and the intimidation begins. The abuse. The violence.”

Rhys’s face was strained. “He’s hurt you?”

Saffron stared straight ahead, side-stepping the question altogether. “I just want to stop him hurting my sister.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Kate’s inner self-hatred came to the fore. She had facilitated this in helping her father with the Club. And how much money had he paid to Graves? How had that capital been spent?

To cause untold misery.

“Do you have a photo of my father on your phone?” Kate whispered to Warren.

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