I lift her without thinking, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. The red dress rides up her thighs as she locks her ankles behind me. Her arms circle my neck, pulling me closer as if she's afraid I'll vanish if she lets go.
The weight of her in my arms feels right, like reclaiming something that was always mine. I carry her across the room to my desk, never breaking our kiss. Papers scatter as I set her down, her body perched on the edge.
My hands slide up her thighs, beneath the hem of that fucking sexy dress I forced her to wear. Her skin burns beneath my touch, soft and familiar. I've dreamed of this, of her, for so long.
I tear my lips from hers, trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her tits above that damned red dress. Idrop to my knees before her, looking up to find her eyes wide with surprise. My hands slide beneath her dress, pushing it up her thighs until she's exposed to me. The sight of her like this, perched on my desk, breathing hard, her hair falling around her flushed face, makes my blood burn.
I press my mouth to her wet pussy. Her taste floods my senses, familiar yet new, and I groan against her flesh. Her fingers tangle in my hair, not pushing me away but pulling me closer. I devour her like a starving man, every gasp and whimper fueling my need to possess her completely.
"Oh, God," she moans, her hips lifting to meet my mouth.
I grip her thighs, holding her open for me as I work her with my tongue. The power I feel isn't the cold satisfaction of revenge, it's primal, possessive. Mine. She's always been mine.
Her body tenses, trembling beneath my hands as she approaches the edge. I look up, needing to watch her face as she comes apart for me. Her head is thrown back, lips parted, completely surrendered to the pleasure I'm giving her.
"Let go," I command, driving two fingers inside her pussy. "Come for me, Keira."
She shatters with a cry, her body arching as waves of pleasure wash through her. I don't stop finger fucking her, drawing out her climax.
When I rise to my feet, she reaches for me, pulling at my belt, my zipper. I free my dick, positioning it at her entrance. I thrust into her in one powerful stroke, burying myself to the hilt. The sensation is overwhelming, hot, tight, perfect. No protection. No barriers. Just us.
I’m driving into her, faster, harder, careening toward oblivion. I’m teetering on the edge. I need to feel her come around me. To take me over with her.
I look into her face, to her eyes, and my world stops.
Her eyes are flat and empty.
“Keira.” Panic fills me.
Her gaze locks onto me. “Take me if you want. I won’t fight it. But I won’t forget either. I’ll never forget what you did to me tonight.”
I bolt up in bed. My heart races, but not from sexual adrenaline. No, it’s from sheer terror that I’ve become what my brothers, what Keira, accused me of.
But even as self-loathing washes through me, it’s followed by anger. I’m not that man. Sure, I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster.
You keep telling yourself that, Blaise’s voice echoes in my brain.
I flop back in bed wondering how this perfect plan has gone so far off the rails. I guess it started when Lana Kean offered Keira to me in exchange for their lives and I took it as an opportunity to make Keira pay for her deception. A deception I’m now not so sure of.
But just because I have doubts, doesn’t mean I believe her. Keira is hiding something. She’s brave and strong-willed, and yet willing to submit to anything I do to her. The only reason she’d do that is to protect someone. It could be that kid. Or it could be her lover. Maybe both.
The end result is that I can’t fully trust her.
15
KEIRA
Isit on the edge of my bed as I unhook the diamond earrings I wore tonight. The clasp pinches my skin, a small pain compared to the emotional lashing I endured. Never in a million years would I have expected to be treated like a whore. Bossed around and dismissed, yes. But not flaunted for men to gawk at.
The red dress puddles at my feet like spilled blood. I kick it away, wanting nothing more than to burn the thing. Phoenix knew exactly what he was doing, parading me around like a prized possession in front of his brothers and associates. Making me feel exposed. Vulnerable.
Yet I didn't break.
When that vile man touched me, when Phoenix accused me of encouraging it, I didn't cower. I threw champagne in his face. The memory brings a small smile to my lips despite everything. The look of shock in his eyes was almost worth whatever punishment awaits me.
He won’t break me, I vow. At least not completely.
I go to the bathroom and wipe away my makeup and brush out my hair. I pull on a soft nightgown ready for this night to end.
