Chapter 22

22

Elsa

Seb punches the guy— Is his name Desmond? Dillon? Dixon, maybe? —and I hear a crunch. Ouch. I wince. That must hurt.

Desmond/ Dillon/ Dixon staggers back and slams into the wall. "Ow. ow. Ow." He wails, "What was that for?" He clutches at his face as blood drips from his nose, down his chin, and splatters onto his shirt.

Seb merely closes the distance to him, grabs him by his collar, and hauls him to his feet. "Get out and stay out. If I see you near my fiancée I'll kill you, motherfucker, you get me?"

"Hold on," the man protests, "this was consensual; she asked me to dominate her; she?—"

Seb moves so quickly, his movements seem to blur. The next moment, he's pushed a gun into the center of the man's forehead, who freezes.

"You will not come near her again, you feel me? You will not breathe the same air as her. You will not look at her. You will not come within a hundred feet of her. Capisce ?"

His gaze widens.

"Get the fuck out before I empty this gun in your face." Seb steps back and the man rushes past him and heads to the door, which slams behind him. The music from the nightclub, which had crept into the room, cuts out again.

Silence follows. A beat. Another. Seb stands where he is, still facing the wall. He stalks over to the door and locks it.

My nerves stretch as I wait for him to make a move. I wait for him to say something, anything… When I can't bear it anymore, I clear my throat.

"Seb?" I say softly.

He flinches, but doesn't reply.

"Seb, I'm sorry."

He swings around to face me, the gun pointed at me now. I glance from the barrel to his face. His features are set in stone. The light from above reflects off of his eyes. They seem to glow a golden-orange, lion-like. He takes a step forward, and another, until he's standing in front of me.

He still hasn't said a word. He rakes his gaze down my features, my breasts, pausing at my belly, then between my thighs.

"Did you take it out?" he asks in a soft voice. There's no hint of emotion, nothing in his tone gives away how he's feeling. His shoulder muscles are bunched under his jacket, and his biceps seem to have gotten even bigger, if that's possible.

When I don't answer, he repeats himself. "Did. You. Take. It. Out?" he growls.

"N-no." I swallow, but that doesn't help the dryness in my throat. "You told me not to."

"I also told you not to go anywhere without my permission."

"Oh." My muscles tremble like a jolt of electricity has zapped through my nerve endings.

"Did I, or did I not, warn you not to go anywhere unless you checked in with me first?"

"Yes, but that was a stupid request. Surely, you didn't expect me to obey it?" I shake my hair back from my face.

"Considering you're the one tied up, wearing a skimpy blouse and a skirt, and I'm the one holding a gun, I wouldn't recommend you try to sass me right now," he says in the same tone one might use to ask about the weather.

A shiver courses up my neck. My pulse drumbeats at my temples. Jesus Christ, I've done it now. I've made him not just angry, but furious. If I thought I saw his temper earlier, I'm beginning to suspect I haven't seen anything yet.

"Come to think of it, except for the part when I barged in and you seemed taken aback—a surprise you've recovered from rather quickly, I might add—you've held onto your composure rather well. It's almost as if..." He cocks his head, and I feel like I can see the gears clicking inside before he speaks again. "You were expecting me, weren't you?"

"What?" I bite the inside of my cheek. "Of course not."

"You knew Adrian would be watching the house. You called for a car and came here, knowing full-well he'd report back to me. In fact," his gaze narrows, "this entire scene is for my benefit. You wanted to bring me here. You wanted me to lose my composure. You wanted to push me until I lost control." He leans in until his chest almost brushes my thrust-out breasts. Until his scent deepens and intensifies and swirls around me and goes to my head. Goddam it, why does he always smell so good… so hot… so sexy I want to lick him up from head to toe before I bury my nose in his neck and draw in a lungful of his heady scent?

"I don't know what you are talking about." I lick my lips and his gaze drops to my mouth.

"Don't lie to me," he says, still using that tone which is so casual, it's clear he's plotting something in that sadistic mind of his.

He places the gun against my cheek. "So damn beautiful, you took my breath away the first I saw you at Venom, you know?"

"D-did I?" My breath hitches.

He drags the barrel of the gun down my neck, down the valley between my breasts until it encounters the first button in the front. He pushes down until the button pops. It hits the ground and rolls away. He continues down, pops the second button, then the next and the next, until my blouse gapes in the front. He pushes aside both flaps, until my breasts are bared to his gaze.

"No bra," he says in a conversational tone. "Were you making sure to give an eyeful to the men in the club?"

I shake my head.

"Lying again, Elsa?"

What happened to Princess? Why isn't he calling me Princess? He's really pissed off at me, isn't he? Fear churns my stomach. "I wore a coat and only took it off when I entered this room." I glance at the small closet in the corner of the room. "You can look inside the cupboard."

"I have a better idea." He circles my nipple with the barrel of the gun. My belly flip-flops and my breasts seem to swell. Why am I getting turned on? He's using a gun to play with my nipple, he— He drags the gun to the opposite breast, rubs the barrel of the gun across my nipple, which is as hard as a diamond.

"Turns you on, does it?" He circles my nipple once again with the gun, and my entire body shudders.

"Definitely turns you on." He tilts his head, his gaze curious. "Is it the danger, or the sense of the forbidden that arouses you more, you think? Or is it the fact I'm a Mafioso who's used this gun to kill men, and now I'm holding it to your breast? The same breast with which you fed your daughter, I assume?"

He lowers his gun, only to replace it with his mouth. He closes his lips around my erect nipple and sucks, hard. I feel it all the way to my core.

"Oh, god," I groan, "oh, my god."

He continues to suck on my nipple, pulling at it, tugging on it. He bites down with his teeth and my entire body jerks.

"Please," I whine, "please, Seb, please."

He releases my nipple with a pop and straightens.

"Please what?" he asks, his tone so polite, it's as if he's going to follow up with m'lady. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to make me come."

"Negative." One side of his lips twists. "Next?"

I stare at him. "Why won't you let me come? Earlier, you stopped just as I was about to climax."

"Excellent." He bares his teeth. "You're beginning to understand how our relationship is going to play out."

"I don't understand anything," I huff. "If you think you're going to scare me with your gun, think again."

"I'm not going to use my gun to scare you."

"No?" I frown.

"I'm going to use it to fuck you."

My jaw drops. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that." He hooks the barrel of the gun under my skirt and flips it up. "That's the last time you show your panties to any man other than me."

"That's a thong, and you can't tell me what to do."

"And yet, it's you who came to me and asked me to dominate you."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to submit easily."

"I wouldn't have expected you to." He reaches with his free hand, pinches the delicate strap of my underwear, and tugs. Of course, it snaps. He yanks it off and sniffs it.

My core clenches. "You're an animal."

"You make me an animal. You make me want to throw you down and rut into you. You make me want to forget about the veneer of civilization I'm supposed to present to the world. You make me want to beat my chest and announce to anyone who'll hear me that you're mine. Mine, mine, mine." He snaps his teeth and I jolt. Those golden eyes of his lighten until they seem almost pale yellow. Mesmerizing, animalistic. He seems more beast than man. A thrill grips me.

Is this what I was hoping for when I pranced out of the house and ordered a car to bring me here? He's right, of course. I had no doubt Adrian would be watching the house, and he'd report my whereabouts to Seb. What I hadn't anticipated is how angry it would make him to see me with another man.

For what it's worth, the guy I chose was a wanker. Someone who couldn't hold a candle to him. Someone I wouldn't have wanted to touch me. If he'd tried anything with me… Well, I knew things wouldn't get that far because I had no doubt Seb would come charging in here and pull that entire macho bullshit and throw the guy out.

Stupid plan? Maybe. I hadn't been thinking too clearly after Fabio's call. All I knew was I had to push Seb over the edge, and judging by his flared nostrils, the pulse that tics at his jaw, not to mention the way he's staring at the bared flesh between my legs, I may have succeeded too well.

He tucks the top of my skirt into my waistband, then draws the tip of the gun between my pussy lips. A shudder grips me. My stomach ties itself in knots even as a fat drop of cum slides out from my channel. He scoops up the moisture with his gun and holds it to my mouth.

"Lick it off," he commands.

I part my lips, flick my tongue across the barrel, and his entire body seems to harden. The muscles of his shoulders bulge and the veins stand out at his throat. He seems to grow even bigger. For the first time fear, real fear, visceral and white-hot, grips me.

"Seb, you're scaring me."