Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (28 page)

Okay. She wouldn’t go here again. He was better at it than she was. She dragged her focus away from his chiseled abs.

“Speaking of asses, judging by its placement, I will assume you did not see what I left you.” He leaned to the side and picked something up from her makeup table. “You mentioned a tail.” He held up an honest-to-God tail that was the exact same color as her hair. She was hypnotised by the movement of his long fingers as they stroked the gleaming onyx plug it was attached to. “I will insert this and you will wear it the next time I have you.”

She was about to refuse, point blank with a laugh and a fuck off, but the protest was cut short when the cabinet full of money and all the bold women who must throw themselves at him rushed through her mind. He rattled her brain when he slid the long cone shape into his mouth. It was wet when he withdrew it.

“I will not only insert it; I will make you love it. Crave it. When I am done with you, having this tail in place will feel as natural as having my shaft buried deep in your hot pussy.”

Her core clenched in response to his dirty mouth, readying for playtime even as her mind berated her for being so fucking easy. “I…I haven’t experimented with that kind of thing before.”

A rumbling sound of satisfaction came from his throat. “Then it will be Frosty’s absolute pleasure to claim your virginity.” He placed the side of his thumb under her chin and lifted her head so his lips could reach the center of her throat. “I will take it, and I will treasure it. Do not doubt that.” After a light suck to her tingling skin, he straightened.

“Okay.” She figuratively plugged her nose and jumped off the edge into the deep end. “I will wear your tail.”

He looked at her, his brows lowering. “Pardon me?”

“Put it in. I would like to wear it. Right now.”

“I will insert it only if you tell me what changed between now and a few minutes ago when you were wishing my castle was in the south of France.”

Her face heated when he reminded her of her childish display. “Nothing.”

He inclined his head and tossed the sex toy so it landed with a solid thunk in front of a display of lipsticks. “Since you cannot be honest, I forbid you to touch—”

Sick of his games, she didn’t think before snapping it up and rushing through the door to lock herself in the bathroom.

Less than ten uncomfortable, awkward, cringing minutes later—totally understood the talk of a burning sensation—Yasmeen opened the door and came back into the bedroom. She was naked from the waist down but for the warm socks she’d put on that morning to ward off the chill. Her upper body was still hidden by a dove-gray sweater that fell just past her ass.

She stopped in the doorway and saw Lucian was sitting across the way, dressed all in black; suit, shirt, and polished shoes. “Are you mad at me?” She held up a finger. “Before you answer that, just remember I didn’t go against your wishes because you never finished what you were saying.” She swallowed and fought the urge to squirm. A foreign object in a place no foreign object had ever been before was not a pleasant feeling.

“Where is it?”

Her face had to be glowing. “I’ll show you in a minute.”

The skin appeared to tighten across his cheekbones, and he dropped his head back to bang it a couple of times on the wall behind him. “Yasmeen. You do not fucking tease a man like me.” He brought his head to rights and glowered at her.

“Why is that?”

“Because it is dangerous. If you set me up only to watch me fall, I will land hard and take you with me, you foolish little girl.”

She nodded as her blood boiled. “Oh. Okay. I kind of already figured that, so, I would never tease you.”

He went still as a statue. “Where. Is. It?”

She didn’t answer but thrilled to the power that coursed through her veins. She had him. Yes, it was a sexual game, but she was still in possession of his undivided attention. She walked further into the room and had to admit she suddenly felt sexier than a Victoria’s Secret model walking the runway. She wanted to prance, for Christ’s sake.

“Is it a coincidence that it’s the same color as my hair?”

“No.”

Her spirits lifted. “Does that mean it was purchased especially for me?”

“Of course.”

They soared. “Thank you. That was very generous of you.”

His eyes finally left hers, and she could tell he was trying to catch sight of it. She moved slowly enough that he wouldn’t be able to.

“Do you know my favorite color, Frosty?”

He was looking at her navel. “If I had to guess, because it is you, I would say you do not have one because you love them all.”

She almost tripped. Her astonishment must have shown, but he didn’t see it. She quickly recovered and moved on with her game, more into it than ever after that incredible answer. His attention was still on her torso, so she bared it for him. She pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it onto the back of a chair. Slipping the straps of her tank top off her arms, she pushed it down so it was a band around her hips, hiding her bared pussy from view.

“Is this what you needed to see?”

“Like the beat of my heart.”

Hers melted and oozed into a puddle ready to be trampled on. “Do you realize I can misconstrue what you’re saying to mean you like me a whole lot? When you speak of your heart to a woman, she will take it as though you’re speaking
from
your heart.”
Because I’m a fucking sucker.

“That is nonsense.” He tipped his chin, looking rakish because he hadn’t shaved in days. “You must be warm in that. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile even after the barb he’d just thrown. She was in her bra and the tiniest tank-turned-skirt ever created. The back of her thighs were being tickled every time she moved.

“Why have you stopped shaving?” She took great satisfaction in seeing him lick his lips and start breathing heavier when she lost the bra and lifted her breasts. She pushed them together like she’d seen women do in movies when they were trying to be sexy.

“I do not care to shave. Pinch your nipples,” he rasped.

She did as she was told.

“I want the taste of them on my tongue. I want to feel their silkiness tighten as I suck on you.” His gaze met hers, and the accusation she saw had her throwing up a wall. She knew the minute his lips parted he was going to strike at her. “I wish I had gone straight out to my car that day at the gallery. Had I not lingered, I would never have seen you.”

Boom.

She held his eyes, refusing to let him see just how mortally he could wound with his honest but cruel comments. The eloquent way he spoke somehow made it worse.

She fought back by dropping her hands down and hooking her thumbs into the sides of her tank. “I’m thrilled you lingered,” she said as she shimmied it carefully over her ass and down her thighs. As the music swelled behind her, she let it fall the rest of the way by itself. “If you hadn’t, I never would have experienced you. And even though you continuously hurt me, I’m happy you’re in my life.”

“I wish you were not in mine.”

She shrugged and shook with the effort it took to remain in front of him. Her libido shrugged it off.
Who cares what he says?

I do
, her heart whispered.

She steadied her voice and tossed back a flippant, “Guess you should have used that big brain of yours and thought twice before you drugged and kidnapped me.”

“It would not have made a difference. I would have taken you anyway because I had to.”

What did that
mean
? “Sounds to me like you created your own problem then. Maybe you need a few lessons in restraint.”

His pupils expanded as a soft growl flowed up his throat. He gripped his erection and squeezed it. No way did he try to hide it. “You stand before me, more ravishing than any goddess in history, your body bared to torment me as you draw this moment out. Yet you speak to me as though we are standing on an inner-city street corner.”

She was tormenting him? Not yet, she thought with a malicious smirk. But she would.

“If you touch me, I will take it out and refuse ever to put one in again.” She gracefully went down to her hands and knees and turned sideways. When she stuck her ass in the air, a steady flow of Romanian bubbled from his lips. She flipped her hair so it landed across her back, tipped her head sideways, and looked at him from under her lashes. My Little fucking Pony this, Frosty.

“Is this what you imagined I would look like when you first gave me the title of pet?”

She wiggled her ass and felt the soft fur tail swish against her skin. When he didn’t answer, she knew she’d won this round. That was also when she realized that emotionless edge that often came into their conversations had been absent from this one. His expression was openly showing desire and pleasure. She could plainly see how excited she’d made him. How badly he needed her attentions right then. He was letting her see it.

She took her time and made something of a production crawling to him. “You don’t like the way I talk? I could always speak like you. Miranda hates it.” She sent her palms stroking up his calves and over his knees, not stopping until she felt a zipper under her fingers. His cock was like a post sitting on his thigh. “Tell me, Frosty, would it please you if I were to offer you hurtful words wrapped in a prettier speech pattern?” She opened his pants and freed his long shaft. “Mmm. Or would you rather I put my mouth to better use?”

Her heart beat in her ears as she closed her fists around him and stroked up and down the silky skin. She wished she could paint, no, sculpt him. She would pay homage to the thick base, the virile shaft that barely tapered once it came up to where her fingers were flirting with the bell-shaped head. Long, heavy, the skin a shade darker than anywhere else on his body. Minimal hair without man-scaping. A full, potent sac…

Yasmeen forgot her game as her need to connect with this man in any way she could took over. She parted her lips and slipped them around the smooth head, moaning unashamedly as she tucked herself between his spread legs. Her mind fuzzed as sensation took over. This was all she was allowed. This physical link. Sex in any form. She pushed her head down, taking him deep as she gripped the base of his cock. Wanting him deeper, she sucked, pulling her cheeks in.

Her hair was stroked, and he started talking again as he feathered the long strands out all over his lap. She didn’t understand a word and didn’t care because in her mind he was saying something that had nothing to do with him not wanting her in his life. As she came off and licked hungrily down the swollen vein carved into the front, whimpering because she knew no matter how much of him she took in it would never be enough, he was telling her how happy he was that he’d found her. As she nibbled her way back up and took him in again, he was thanking her for being with him during his time of need, for helping him deal with his grief over losing his brother.

“I must fuck your mouth, pet.”

She nodded frantically, inviting him to use her. She even took his hands and placed them on the sides of her head.
Let me help you, Lucian
, she begged as he began pulling her up and down his cock. He hit the back of her throat and her nails sunk into his thighs, her eyes watering. She welcomed the moisture because it blended with the tears she knew he’d hate seeing that squeezed their way out. Harder she bobbed on him, and harder he pulled, until he was doing as he’d said. Opening her throat, she took it. She took what her needy, hurtful lover gave her, and silently cried because she wanted so much more.

♦ ♦ ♦

Lucian fit his cock into the tight passage that was Yasmeen’s throat and wished he could permanently solder them together. Yes, for obvious reasons, but more just to keep them linked. Where he went, she would go. Never out of his sight. Never in harm’s way. Never anywhere near another man who might one day have this spectacular view of her fully accepting her role as his pet.

The thought combined with the heat surrounding him, her submissive position, and that goddamn tail hanging from the silver butt plug she’d pushed into her never-before-penetrated ass just to please him…Jesus Christ, he’d never been more turned on.

Or more moved by a gesture.

Thinking of her eagerness to satisfy him was enough to break him. He pumped into her with a short stroke, not stopping until his release flowed up his shaft and transferred from him to her. His pleasure became crippling when he felt her swallow. He would live inside her. For a time, his very essence would mix with hers, and nothing could change that.

“Yes, my pet,” he moaned, holding her head tight between his legs. “Take from me, you beautiful little thing.”

As his climax peaked, and then slowly tapered to small electric bursts, and knowing she needed to breathe, he reluctantly pulled her head up and withdrew his wet length. He bent and took her mouth, cleaning her as she panted, stroking their tongues together, sharing the very air surrounding them.

“I have never been more pleased,” he breathed into her. “You satisfy me like no one ever has. Thank you for that,
draga
.”