15. Fiora

The way Braken's face contorts in red-hot rage brings a smile to my face.

Ever since Mason's death, I've lost control over my entire life.

Living in Heathens Hollow, even for the short time, has been the only taste of control I've ever had. And now it's gone.

In one short week, I've been bound to a man to unite two families, used as a pawn as if I'm worth nothing more than that, and left out of the investigation to get justice for my brother.

Marco is the only leverage I have.

He's the only thing stable in this whirlwind, and the only one I can trust. Everyone else is using me for what I'm good for. Marco is the one who supports me without anything in return.

He's also the one whose ring should be on my finger, not Braken Frost's.

The silence stretches long and heavy, but we don't take our eyes off each other. Within those green depths, a sizzling anger burns hotter and hotter.

Good.

Bringing up Marco is a low blow, but it is worth it. Now Braken knows exactly how I feel.

When Braken answers, it sends electricity racing down my spine.

"I've been lenient until now, Fiora." His words are rough and scratchy, his arms flexing so hard the veins pop out, pushing against the sprawling tattoos on his skin. "But you're pushing your luck. I suggest you think carefully about what you're going to say next or else there will be consequences."

The threat doesn't scare me. If anything, it thrills me.

A wave of heat flashes through my body at the look he gives me. Angry. Dark. Dominating. His large hands clench by his sides and for a second, I wonder what they would feel like on me. Pinning me down against the couch, pulling at my hair and calling me a brat. My pussy clenches at the thought before I bury it deep inside me.

What am I even thinking? The minute I let his dick hypnotize me, it's all over. He'll have the upper hand.

"He can get information from the inside," I offer after quick consideration.

Braken looks even more pissed off, tilting his head at me like I'm a bratty child. "So, he's a cop."

Shit. He got that just from one sentence? I need to be more careful.

"He works for us. He'll do whatever we ask."

"And if I ask him to fuck off?" An emotionless smirk rises to Braken's face. "You won't be meeting any other men, Fiora."

"Oh?" I stand up straighter. "Even if it can help you?"

"I can handle this myself."

I'm about to argue, but Braken takes another step forward and practically traps me against the chair and wall. Up close, he's so big. Large shoulders, large hands, and a large shadow that smothers me and makes me shiver. He's wearing the same cologne from yesterday. The earthy, rich scent warms me and makes it hard to breathe. Having him so close is disorienting. I want to push him away, but my body is screaming to pull him even closer. If he shifts, I'll be able to feel his body against mine and a warmth I sorely need. Merely the thought makes me want to crumble.

Which means I need to get out of here.

I move to grab my purse from the top of his desk so I can get my phone. I don't even get to grab it before he wraps his hand around my wrist and pins it down against the desktop.

He leans his body into mine so I'm forced down on the edge of the desk. His chest presses against mine, so close his warm breath fans my face when he speaks.

"I bet you're used to getting everything you want." His voice is threateningly quiet, but it rings in my ears as if he's shouting. "Using Daddy's money to parade around like a princess and meet with your flings. You use that money on Marco? Get him to fuck you for a little extra salary?"

The accusation brings heat to my cheeks, and I try to fight against his grip. "Not even close. I'm not like you, I don't need money to get laid. But what I do with my money is none of your business, asshole."

"If I remember correctly, you did The Hunt for those baskets. Plenty of money inside them."

"Who says I did The Hunt for the baskets? Maybe I do The Hunts for the exact same reason you do."

He pauses, stares into my eyes, and the intensity nearly steals my breath.

"You're mine now." His voice is husky and dangerously low, laced with the same heat racing throughout my body. "Every single move you make is my damn business. And if you want to be treated like a princess, you better be ready for everything it entails."

"Like what?" I shoot back. There's a pause where we only stare at each other, challenging the other to break first. When he takes too long to answer, I scoff. "I dare you to try it."

My words are a challenge, and Braken Frost immediately rises to the occasion.

He shifts me so I'm fully seated on the desk, but a firm hand on my shoulder keeps me from rising. With his other hand, he tugs up the fabric of my dress until my black panties are completely exposed.

I should push him away. I know I should. Giving my body to a man I barely know is not my style. And yet ever since moving to Heathens Hollow, that is exactly what I've been doing. I should resist. I should find some inner purity and strength, but when his rough hand begins trailing from my knee to my thigh, electricity zaps through my veins and takes the words from me.

He trails his hand up the inside of my right thigh, inching closer and closer to my throbbing pussy. I slightly close my legs, the last of my fading resistance.

Braken doesn't like that. He grabs onto the meat of my thigh, forcing my legs apart, and gives my inner thigh a light slap for good measure. The sting of my skin makes me gasp, but I don't tell him to stop. My body is throbbing for another smack to take my mind off the hazy lust clouding my judgment.

"Keep your legs open for me," he demands, "or I'm going to spank this ass of yours until you can't sit for days."

His voice is right in my ear, vibrating straight down my core. When he doesn't start moving again, I realize Braken is offering me an out. I can push him away, go home, and grab my vibrator to relieve this tension myself. Or I can stay, let him have me, and lose myself in hateful, spine-tingling pleasure.

The latter sounds so much fucking better.

I don't answer but I open my legs as far as I can and keep him there. A smirk lights his face at my obedience, and I'm rewarded with his knuckles grazing my cloth-covered cunt.

That's all he gives me, two knuckles running up and down until the fabric is wet with my essence. I try to lift my hips to meet his infuriating slow touch, but he smacks my thigh again, the sound ringing in his office.

"Princesses take what they're given," he growls. With the light from his office windows shining on his back, his already dark face is completely shadowed. He looks like a wolf ready to devour his prey, and it's all thanks to me.

"I think you have the wrong idea about me," I retort, but it's breathless, wispy, lost in the way my chest heaves for more.

Braken smirks and grabs onto the elastic of my panties, snapping it against my flushed skin. I lift my hips without him even asking, and it only makes his smirk grow.

"Pretty sure I don't."

My comeback dies on my lips as soon as a firm hand cups my pussy beneath my panties. Braken massages two of his fingers up and down my slick folds, his hawk-like eyes watching my reactions. I try to swallow back my vocal pleasure. I don't want him to realize how badly I want him to bend me over this desk and fuck me until my mind is blank. But as soon as he pulls my folds apart and sinks his middle finger into my pussy, I can't stop the soft mewl that escapes.

His low chuckle both pisses me off and makes my core throb. His body traps me, keeping me firmly under his control. Braken leans forward, mouthing at my exposed collarbones as he slowly pumps his finger in and out. It's agonizingly slow, but I don't want him to stop, especially when his thumb gently grazes my throbbing clit with the most featherlight touch.

As hard as it is to do, I keep my hips still so he doesn't stop. Braken rewards me with a light kiss to the column of my throat, his facial hair tickling my sensitive skin and drawing a soft moan from me. His middle finger speeds up and begins circling my clit in quick, practiced strokes with his thumb.

I'm already so wet, the sound of my slickness even louder than my heavy breaths.

Braken pushes a second finger into me and pushes me even further against the desktop.

It's uncomfortable and awkward, but I don't even care. I cling to the edge, giving in to the rising pleasure in my bones. He presses against my clit as he moves faster, curling his fingers as he finger-fucks me until I'm a gasping mess. I don't want to give in to him, but that doesn't stop him. Braken takes me anyway, biting at my neck until he leaves his mark, fingers working me to the brink.

My release is right there. Toe-curling pleasure floods my body and makes my entire body tingle. My walls clench down around his quick fingers, and it's so hard to keep my hips still, but I do because I'm right there.

And then he stops.

Braken fucking stops.

He pulls away as quickly as he came, darkened eyes sharp and staring at the mess he made. I can swallow my cry of annoyance. The wave of pleasure fades back into a warm buzzing, my clit pulsing angrily in desperate need of an orgasm.

"What the fuck?" I gasp.

"There's that filthy mouth of yours again," he muses idly.

My taunting at the restaurant yesterday comes back to haunt me now. Fuck. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Figures," I grind out in annoyance. "Why don't you prove you know how to please a woman instead of leaving her like this?"

"If you want it, you'll have to work for it yourself."

Braken pushes his fingers into me again, slipping in with no resistance. But then he doesn't move at all. He keeps his hand completely still, bracing next to my head on the desk with his other.

When he shifts, his hard cock beneath his pants presses up against my thigh, making my walls pulse again. He's enjoying this game of cat and mouse as much as I am. I want to smirk, but all I can do is groan in annoyance.

Why isn't he moving?

"What was it you said to me at the restaurant, Fiora?" he taunts so scathingly it makes me shiver. "I think it was something like, go fuck yourself?"

Me and my goddamn mouth.

I clench my teeth to hold my composure. "And?"

"Your turn." He laughs and it vibrates into my skin. "Go fuck yourself, Fiora."

I don't move at first. I don't want to play his stupid games. I want him to make me come so hard I can't think, but he has the restraint of an iron statue and keeps completely still. If I want to release, I'm going to have to listen.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I lift my hips and roll them down. Desperation keeps me from starting slow. I match his earlier pace, rocking into his unmoving hand to get a little friction. Every time I move my hips down, Braken's thumb catches my clit, and I grunt. My heels dig into his desk as I fuck myself on his fingers to chase that lost high.

The desk beneath me creaks with every movement, and it's so loud I think it might break. But I don't give a shit, not when the fire ignites in my stomach again with every pump. But the fire never burns as hot as it did when Braken worked me into a frenzy.

It's not enough. I feel on edge, but I can't get there. No matter how I angle my hips or slam down on his two fingers, my release remains elusive. I let out a frustrated groan, and Braken laughs, leaning forward to graze the hollow of my throat.

"You're so fucking desperate," he mocks.

My face burns hotter with his words, but so does my pussy.

"And you're not?" I shift my legs so my knee brushes his hard cock. "Looks like someone is having fun."

There's a pinch of pleasure on his face one second that disappears the next. "Not as much fun as you, princess. You're practically dripping on my floor. Do you want to come that badly?"

I refuse to beg. I might be splayed out on his desk, my arousal and desperation fully on display, but I won't cross that line. I only stare at him, biting my lip to keep my damn mouth shut.

Braken leans forward, mouthing at the light red marks he bit into my skin as he travels up.

"If you beg me, I'll let you come. Go on, Fiora. Beg for it."

The words are right there, but I swallow them back. I won't.

Instead, I lean up and try to kiss him.

It's a move he isn't expecting.

Our lips manage to brush for only a mere second before he puts a hand on my throat. He presses his thumb into my windpipe and keeps me pinned against his desk. He stares down at me, smoldering eyes studying every heaved breath that falls from my lips. His grip on my throat is firm and commanding. It's not to hurt me but to remind me.

My pleasure is in his control.

It's infuriating.

And so fucking hot.

He moves his fingers again, resuming his previous pace. His thumb immediately finds my swollen clit and starts a relentless pace. My moan is cut off by a squeeze of my throat, and my head swims with overwhelming pleasure. My entire body is aflame, so close to the edge. I can't take it. I match rolls of my hips with his fingers, working myself closer and closer to climax. It's right there. My spine tingles, my toes curl, and?—

—Braken pulls away for good.

My hazy eyes snap open and take a second to focus on him. He's two steps away from me, a shit-eating grin on his chiseled face.

I'm going to scream.

I have a few choice words for this asshole, but they all die as soon as he pops his wet fingers into his mouth. He swirls his tongue to clean my juices, his eyes on me the entire time. My already-aching body pulses again, begging for him to come finish the orgasm he's denied me for a third time.

"Only good girls get to come," Braken says gruffly as soon as he's done licking my juices off his fingers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Learn to behave and control that mouth of yours or you'll keep being disappointed," he taunts before turning and ignoring the complete mess he made of me and my throbbing pussy.

Braken stalks off toward the main part of the club, and I'm left extremely frustrated and extremely horny, sticky and sweaty from an orgasm I didn't even get.

As I make myself presentable again and stomp out of his office, I already have a few plans on how I can kill Braken and get away with it.

As I storm by him, wondering if I can catch the last ferry to Seattle in time, he says, "Stay at your cottage tonight. I want you near."

I freeze and look over my shoulder. "My old place?"

He nods. "Stay on Heathens Hollow. I'll have security placed on you, your cottage is secure, and that's where I want you to be until we get married."

"I have things to handle and events in Seattle," I begin, never actually considering staying on the island but also liking the idea. I had loved living here and away from my father's constricting grip.

I rushed back to Seattle so quickly after hearing about my brother's death I didn't even pack. Everything I own is still in the cottage, all the way down to my toothbrush. It would be easier than going to Seattle at least for tonight and?—

"Then you'll commute to Seattle when you need to," he says as he goes behind the bar to pour himself a drink. "I'm not asking, Fiora. You'll be staying on Heathens Hollow."