My gut tightens at her look of defeat. It shouldn’t-I want her defeated, don’t I? “You’re collateral, if we’re being utterly honest. Not any of my concern.”
She raises her head. “Collateral, as in damage?”
She’s young and she’s smart. She thinks she’s being tough and playing the game my level. Maybe this is just her trying to grasp a complex meaning when it’s all simple.
I nod. “You’re collateral damage-you’re what he wants and I have you. End of story.”
She sucks in a breath of air at the truth I just dropped. “Please… go away.”
I don’t move. “You don’t get to give orders.”
“And you’re never letting me go.” She looks over her shoulder and it takes my fucking breath away. My cock stirs again, and I’m cursing its existence.
Rosalind’s been crying, yes, and crying women don’t turn me on. But the steel, the challenge-the goddamn challenge in her gaze-oh yes, that does get me fucking wound up. It shouldn’t, that look. It reminds me of Derek, but where he’s got a deadness to his eyes, she’s life. All life.
Her eyes narrow. “If you think I’m going to give in, sit here and let you do what you want like I’m some kind of doll, then you’re a fool.”
I grip the side of the doorframe to stop myself from stepping in. Does she even know how her challenges ensnare her tighter into my web? “I’m not a fool, Rose. I know what you are.”
She just quirks an eyebrow in a challenge, which spurs me on even more.
“Mine, to do with as I wish. You didn’t like what I did to you downstairs. You fucking loved it. You came so hard on my fingers, and you were so fucking wet for me. I bet if I’d said the word, you’d have gotten on your knees in front of everyone and sucked me off.”
Her eyes narrow. “Only because you would have killed me if I hadn’t.”
“No,” I say. “Because you wanted my cock.”
She recoils, just slightly, as her eyes widen. My words hit a nerve of truth in her. Rosalind might hate me, but she wants her mouth on me. I smile.
“I’m going to hurt you,” she whispers. “I’m going to destroy you, and you won’t see it coming. I’m going to survive this and I’m going to take you down.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I just thought I’d tell you, since we’re being honest, Nikolai.” She says my name like a dirty word, and that turns me on, too.
“Bring it on.” Then I move, pulling the door shut and turning the key. Something hits the door as I lock it. I’m not sure what, since she doesn’t have any shoes or clothes in there, but the room isn’t empty and… I smile.
Behind the door, she starts to cry again. I put my hand on it, splayed flat. Part of me, the foolish part, wants to go back in, to comfort her, to stop her tears. I lay my forehead against the smooth grain of the wood before I straighten, step back, and walk back to my room. I rub a hand over my face as I strip down to run the shower.
She’s like a kitten, claws and needle teeth, one who thinks she’s a lion. I let her talk, rant, hiss. I let her because I want to see how she ticks.
How she ticks turns me on.
I should have taken her now, fuck the plan.
No. Even though the taste of her is seared into me, her sweet juices somehow still on my tongue, her scent in my bones, fucking her now is a mistake. My plan is already in motion, and I can’t veer from it, even if she is in my blood.
The water sluices down my back as I lean one hand against the slick, wet marble of the shower wall and I wrap my other around my cock.
She was so fucking delicious, hot and so wet. I tighten my hand, imagining it’s her cunt I’m using, not my hand. That tight, untried cunt. I stroke off, wringing out the tension from touching her, the pleasure I want with her, in her.
She shuddered against me, spread her legs further for me. Rose fucking pushed onto my fingers without realizing it. She wanted to moan, and I remember every moment of it, how hard she clamped down when she came.
Fuck. I move my hand tighter, rougher, working my cock. I want to feel her around me. I want to destroy her until she’s nothing more than mine, my toy, my property. I want to taste and touch every part of her in worship. I want to fucking bite her, soothe her, rile her, kiss her, mark her.
The slickness of the water is cool against the fever searing through me, one that’s all Rosalind. My hand moves lower, pulling up, and I hit that sensitive spot at the base of the head, sliding up and over the top, and then back down. Over and over, rougher and rougher, until I reach the right intensity, the pleasure-pain and pressure from the build-up of tension, the need for ultimate release. Fuck. I wish it was her mouth, her ass, her pussy, I don’t care; all I want is it to be her and not my hand.
I’m close. I’m so fucking close, I can almost feel her on my cock. After all, I’ve had my fingers deep in that tight, hot wetness.
Christ.
I turn my head to the side and put my fingers that were deep in her to my nose. They’re wet with water, but I can still conjure her scent, remember her juices. Pushing one of the three fingers in my mouth I suck, like that wetness is hers. Oh, fuck, yeah. I’m almost fucking there. One. More.
My balls tighten and the pleasure surges, and I come with a guttural moan. It takes a few minutes to come down from that intense release, and I finish the shower slightly more relaxed than before.
I say slightly because even now, I’m slightly aroused. Christ, that wasn’t enough. It won’t be enough until I finally take her. After I’ve broken her, made her pant for me, I’m sure I’ll be done. This isn’t just me getting off. This is getting revenge, sticking to a plan.
I sit on the sofa and reach for my phone. It’s just past midnight and I pull up Derek Finnegan’s number. We circle each other, neither wanting the mark that’ll come from starting a real war. He’s going to, though, or he’ll pay so fucking deeply, he’ll wish he’d shredded own his flesh from his body and handed it to me.
I press call. He answers almost immediately, but doesn’t say a fucking thing. I can feel the burn of hate, hotter than I’ve ever felt from him, and I almost laugh.
He knows.
“Finnegan, I have something that belongs to you.”
There’s a grunt that borders on a growl on the other end, but still he doesn’t stay a word. I let that silence stretch until it’s so taut, it could be played with a bow. The waiting-because this bastard knows I’m not done -must be excruciating.
Finally, I speak once more before ending the call. “And she’s very, very delicious.”