14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Jarrett

T his woman is making me question every fucking thing I've ever known. In my world, women are possessions to rule over. There's a reason I have never had a relationship of any kind, and that's because I don't want all that. I love a challenge, which is why I enjoy my job to some extent, but I've never thought about how fucked up it is before now. People have been nothing but pawns my whole life, just things to keep The Firm running and the money rolling in. Easy.

I don't think I want easy anymore.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ophelia is mine in every way. But I don't want to rule over her. I want to rule beside her.

When I was first tasked with finding and watching her, I had a preconceived notion that she was a spoiled brat who was rebelling against her father's way of life. I mean, she is that, but she's also so much more. There's depth there, and it's more than just a rebellion for her, it's a belief that she's making the world a better place.

Fucking sappy shit, but it is what it is.

She does something to me that I thought was a myth. Something that's only ever seen in the movies or in the books my mum used to love.

Mum was Dad's gift from Grandpa when he first joined The Firm, but what their relationship taught me is that the women sold to a master can live a good life. As long as they obey their master, of course.

Ophelia's mother wasn't as lucky as mine, and I hate that for her, especially because of the path it's led my Kitten down.

Splashing my face with water, I take a look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom. Maybe I could tell Dad that she's not the girl they've been looking for, that she only resembles the girl from footage The Firm have seen. I know enough people to create a fake assassin they could chase down in her place.

I push my fingers through my hair and close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.

She's gonna fucking kill me. Or at least, she's gonna try when she finds out who I am. I know she's been searching for me with some of my fake names, she just doesn't know it's actually me.

I know what I'm feeling isn't all me though. This guttural sense of knowing that we belong together. She's mine. I'm hers. There's nothing else to it. She has to forgive me.

I've got enough money to last a thousand lifetimes, we can fuck off somewhere into the sunset and never look back.

The idea of letting her go after I've taken her back to the auction warehouse tonight is fucking painful.

I hate it.

Taking another deep breath, I shake my head at myself, and with a sharp nod, I leave the bathroom.

"Don't you think that knife's a little large for slicing cheese, Kitten?" All the crappy thoughts from before fall into a box in the corner of my mind when I see her making sandwiches in the kitchen.

"You scared?" She turns to me, does some fancy twirling shit with the knife, and fucking winks before returning to her task.

I laugh, a proper belly laugh because I can't not. She's fucking incredible.

"Maybe I'll use this where I shouldn't if you don't start calling me Sunny before you take me to the drop off point tonight." She doesn't look up but I can hear the smirk in her tone as I walk up behind her and slide my palms around to her stomach. The T-shirt she's wearing is, of course, one of mine, and it looks so much better on her. I could be with her like this forever.

Why did this weekend have to be so fucking short?

"Again, I'll never call you that because that's his name for you and you know it." The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I've fucked up.

So much for not being a fucking amateur.

Being lost in my thoughts has just done me over because she's not stupid. She can put two and two together and come up with some kind of answer as to how I know about him—Logan—calling her Sunny. Even if she gets it wrong, I can't lie to her anymore.

Fuck.

Ophelia's body tenses and I'm suddenly aware that she still has a huge knife in her hand. My grip on her tightens as I guide my hands onto her forearms so I'm ready for her possible reaction.

"What do you mean by, ‘that's his name for me?' Who are you talking about, Rhett?" She's incredibly still, unmoving, her gaze straight ahead.

"I think you know who I'm talking about, Ophelia." I keep my voice low, steady.

"I do. But I'd like you to confirm it. Then I need you to tell me how you know about him." There's a slight tremble in her tone, but she's not afraid. Adrenaline is filling her as her brain works to figure this out.

The elusive member of The Firm, who has been near impossible to track down. She knows he's been able to keep tabs on her to some extent, which is why she took this risk to come here.

The guy her and her friends were chasing down in Detroit. One she fully intends to kill.

The possibility that he would be at the auction that night was slim, but they hit the nail on the head.

James Smith.

Is me.

Jarrett Vale.

I'm hoping the fact that we both signed contracts will stop her in time.

Her tense muscles are still in the exact same position, knife poised in the air, white knuckles surrounding the handle, and I'm not moving either.

"Logan calls you Sunny. And yes, I have been working for The Firm." There's no hiding it now. If I've got any chance of keeping her, I need to be honest.

Ophelia lets out a growl worthy of a beast as she tries to spin in my hold, but with my grip on her arms and with her against the kitchen countertop, she's not moving.

"Let. Me. Go." Her anger vibrates through her body and I hate that The Firm have hurt her enough to react this way. "You're James Smith." It's not a question. She's affirming it to herself, shaking her head as she pants like a wild animal.

"Well, technically I'm Jarrett, but yeah, James Smith is a name I've used." The very minimal humor does not translate well.

"Not fucking funny, Jarrett. " She spits my name through her lush lips and I hate the way it sounds.

"You can't kill me, Kitten. You like me too much and you signed a contract."

"Fuck the fucking contract and I'm not your kitten!" She struggles again, trying to lift her legs, but I have every inch of her pinned.

"You didn't deny that you like me too much. That's a start." I chuckle, completely aware it's inappropriate in this moment, but so is the hard-on I'm sporting.

A yell rips from her throat and she takes me by surprise, dropping her body weight and making me step back for fear she's hurt somehow. She's not. As soon as my hold on her is broken, she takes my legs out and knocks me to the floor, straddling me with the knife aimed at my face.

I slowly lift my hands, palms up, as I lie on my back looking up at the glorious, angry woman above me.

"Don't fucking move."

"I'm going nowhere, Kitten." And I mean that in more ways than she knows right now.

"I liked my dad too, you know? To some extent. There were times when he wasn't all bad, when he wasn't beating my mom to a fucking pulp for putting too much sauce on his pasta for dinner. Or when he made me watch when I did something wrong, because he believed she wasn't doing her job of raising me well enough. It was supposed to teach me a lesson, to make sure I knew my place even through the guise of freedom."

Her story is making my blood boil. I knew she didn't have it easy, but fuck. I wish I could take it all away. I actually feel shame for being a part of this whole thing and it's fucking with my head.

"But do you know what? Ha, I suppose you do, seeing as you've spent so long fucking stalking me. But I'll remind you anyway. Liking someone doesn't mean I won't kill them for being a scumbag piece of shit. I was the one who killed my dad. Me. His very own daughter. I decided to fight back for once when I saw him hitting my mom. I thought I was saving her, but she killed herself as soon as the life left his eyes because she didn't want to live a life of pain. She suffered many long-term effects from his regular beatings. But that's the life of a slave. Right? You would know."

Her thighs are squeezing my ribs, one of her hands on the base of my throat, and the other still with the knife poised over me. Her body is in kill-mode, but something else inside her is holding her back because she could've killed me a thousand times by now. I'm completely at her mercy.

Truth be told, I have been at her mercy since the moment I set eyes on her.

"We should talk about this without weapons. There's a lo—"

"I'm done fucking talking, Jarrett." Even with anger boiling through every pore, she still makes my dick twitch when she says my name like that.

Fuck!

I react quickly, grabbing her wrist and bucking her off me, flipping her over so our positions are switched when she moves to drive the knife into me.

"That wouldn't be wise, Kitten, and I know you're smarter than that." I have her arms pinned on either side of her head and her body between my thighs.

She growls at me. It's fucking cute and I have to try really hard not to smile.

"Get the fuck off me." Her words are spoken through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"If I get off you, do you swear not to try and kill me?" Restraining her is fun, but only when the promise of pleasure is the end goal. Not murder.

"Yes." It's short, clipped, and I don't fully believe her, but I slowly begin to stand anyway, my hands on her wrists being the last place I touch her body.

"Okay. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Not like my raging fucking dick. It's really not getting the message that this is not supposed to be fun. "Look, I get that you're pissed. You have this whole mission going on with your girls." I'm fully standing now, but I've put the small round table and chairs between us, and I watch as her face contorts in anger as she gets up from the floor. "I'm a bad man. I've done bad things. Yes, I'm invol—"

Another scream rips from her throat as she charges me, but instead of rounding the table, she picks up an empty mug and throws it at my head. I manage to duck in time for it to miss me, but it was fucking close, and now I'm getting angry.

If she would just fucking listen to me, we could talk this shit out.

"Now that was just unnecessary, Ophelia."

"I'll tell you what's unnecessary." She moves to the kitchen countertop and picks up the kettle. "This is unnecessary." It flies through the air toward me so fast I barely move in time. But also, what the fuck? "And this is unnecessary." She throws the sandwiches she was making, followed by the plates, and they smash into pieces with a loud crash against the wooden floorboards. She's sexy when she's angry, but I'm trying to remain calm because she hasn't thrown the knife yet. I know she's got a damn good aim so I'm holding on to the knowledge that she really doesn't want to hurt me. "And this is very unnecessary."

My eyes widen in horror when she picks up the box of teabags and begins ripping them up before also throwing them toward me. They don't go far, the herbs sprinkling all over the kitchen instead. It's like her own version of the Boston Tea Party in here!

She's lucky I've already had my morning tea and we're leaving here tonight.

"Ophelia." Her name is a warning on my lips, but it only angers her more and she screams out her frustration before leaping onto the table between us.

She's quick to jump off, aiming to take me down with the force of her movement, but I catch her by the thighs and remain standing. Her fingers claw at my arms and she kicks at my back with her feet.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"No you're fucking not!" My tone is assertive and louder than I wanted, but she's pissing me the fuck off.

I slam her back down onto the table then grapple with her wrists, claiming the knife for myself.

"Now calm the fuck down, Ophelia."

"Never!"

"Oh fuck this shit." I throw the knife to the other side of the room and slam my lips to hers, with her wrists pinned to the table on either side of her head. She fights me, but eventually opens her mouth, allowing me entrance, then our tongues battle.

She squirms half-heartedly beneath me, but I sense it's to get some friction between her legs more than anything. Forcing her knees apart with my body, I chance letting go of one of her wrists to push down and step out of my boxers, but she uses the moment to her advantage, gripping my forearm and scraping her nails across my skin.

It stings so I let go of her other wrist, giving her the opportunity to sit up and push me back. She slams her palms against my chest and keeps pushing until my back hits a wall, sending a picture frame crashing to the floor. There, she forcefully pushes her lips to mine and kisses the fuck out of me, all the while clawing at my shoulders.

Growling low, I bend slightly and grab her thighs, lifting her and spinning us so her back smashes against the wall. I slam into her without a second thought, and she's fucking soaked so my dick just slides right on in. She rips her lips away from mine and growls back at me, biting my neck, my shoulder, all while leaving her marks across my back and fucking me just as much as I'm fucking her.

I piston in and out of her wet cunt, reminding her why a conversation is the way forward here. We're too fucking good together to give this up.

Gripping her throat, I bring her mouth back to mine and bite her lip, close to drawing blood but not quite. We fuck hard, we fuck fast, and I know her orgasm is close because her pussy walls are strangling my cock, making it near-impossible not to blow my load before she comes. On her thigh, my fingers dig into her, squeezing so hard I know it'll bruise, as I pound into her, biting and sucking on her tongue and putting just the right amount of pressure on her throat.

She comes on a loud scream and I quickly follow, thrusting deep as my cum decorates the inside of her pussy.

Before she has the chance to argue more or to start another fight, I drop my hold on her, twist her around, and put her in a chokehold. My dick is getting hard again, pushing against her arse cheeks as she scratches at my arm to get away. That's not happening.

Her movements slow and she passes out. I only have up to a minute before she regains consciousness, so I rush her up to the bedroom where my bag of toys are and begin with her wrists.

As I'm securing her foot cuffs to the bed, she stirs awake and realizes what's happening immediately.

"What the actual fuck?"