Controlling Interests: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Series Book 2) (4 page)

One day, it would ruin me. But until then? Sarah Atwood slept naked in my bed.

And she was mine.

I shifted the blankets. Sarah pouted, her lip puffing with sleepy indignation. My pillows swallowed the petite, defenseless girl within the dark sheets and my darker intentions.

The peak of her breasts tantalized me, but my greatest temptation rested in the crest between her legs. Her bare, silken slit promised softness, warmth, and the greatest pleasure I had ever taken.  She had been a virgin only weeks ago. But, under my control, she was teased, ravished, and filled.

By more men than me.

If lust heated my blood, then jealousy was the spark that would consume us in flame. A darkness more perverse than obsession demanded either violence or an immediate, animalistic satisfaction. As a Bennett, I waited for neither. As a man in love, I’d offer Sarah my soul, carve out my heart, and spend every cent to my name if it meant keeping her from danger.

Except I was what endangered her, especially as I forced her in my brothers’ arms to submit, rut, and create an heir.

I should have wanted to kill my brothers, but Reed prioritized her release, savoring her moans and whimpers. Max mounted her like an animal and broke her with ecstasy. Sarah’s gaze found me with every thrust, every swelling oblivion she rode. They flooded her with seed and protected her by stealing what belonged to me.

But I needed them.
She
needed them. Sarah’s life depended on her captivity, her submission.

Her breeding.

And the thought that should have sickened me was the very sin that hardened me beyond rational control.

She stirred as I shifted over her body. I tasted the soft skin between her neck and shoulder. The bite was meant to warn her. Sarah gasped as she woke with a man pressing between her legs.

Eventually, she would understand what I expected of her. She gripped my shoulders, but she didn’t push me away. I wouldn’t pretend to be noble. I wasn’t the man she deserved, but it was my name she murmured as I slipped inside her soft, slick, desperate folds.

I’d keep her prisoner, bind her with every rope and chain, and trap her within my arms just to drive the breath from her body with my demanding strokes.

She was mine.

As was everything.

The woman. The estate. The companies.

Her protection and my deception were one and the same. I thrust inside her, tempting her surrender, tasting her cries, loving how tightly her fingers dug into my skin as I pressed her deeper, harder, faster into the mattress.

Selfish.

Monstrous.

Traitorous.

Each time I claimed Sarah, I expected her to fight—to twist, cry, flee, and beg. I promised a fate wrought with horror, and I twisted an innocence so pure and lovely she had yet to understand why I controlled her so easily. I took her body as my reward, my sin, and my salvation.

Her warmth was the promise of Heaven that drew me from hell.

It was a crime to savor how she accepted my invasion, but she destroyed me as I destroyed her. An absolute beauty haloed her features as my ruthless conquering woke her with ecstasy and rutted her into lustful, gluttonous fantasy.

Sarah was every warmth, every hope, every comfort denied to me in life. Her arms promised safety. Her body offered perfect acceptance.

I didn’t deserve to be loved by such perfection, but I would never fucking lose that blessing.

Nothing in this world meant more to me than the woman trembling under me, murmuring my name, and depending upon me for her safety.

My claiming flushed us both with heat, and Sarah gasped a quivering breath before clenching completely around me, dazing me with the absolute beauty of the woman beneath me. Her orgasm whispered in a glorious mew, but mine earned her groan. I jetted inside her as deeply as her body accepted without crashing through her.

It wasn’t enough.

It’d never be enough.

Every rapturous moment and erupted heat only demanded more from me. More than I could give, more chances than I could offer, more danger than I could fight.

I claimed her, bedded her, and filled her, but dread coiled inside me. The bruises on her cheek had hardly faded. The trauma to her body hadn’t healed. I feared nothing I did would prevent the inevitable.

Infertile
.

Unless she conceived, it’d be impossible to save her without spilling blood.

But nothing in this world stopped a Bennett before.

“Morning.” I didn’t pull from her.

Sarah brushed the straying blonde locks from her face. “Think we’re beyond greetings this morning.”

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

“You don’t have to charm me, you already got what you were after.” She arched, pressing me deeper inside her. The heat of our desire melded, and she giggled at the mess. It hardened me more. “Stay with me today?”

I’d do so many things for this woman, including sharing her perfection and potentially losing the chance to create her heir. But spending the morning locked in her embrace was beyond my power. I was already late.

“We have a meeting with the board today.” I kissed her before she asked the question. It wasn’t time to instigate the takeover. Not yet. Not until I secured every vote and protected Sarah and my brothers from the inevitable fallout. “I can’t miss it.”

Sarah shifted. I didn’t let her up.

“Don’t move.” I pressed against her belly. “I read you’re supposed to lay flat for fifteen minutes.”

“Did you also read the definition of
infertile
?”

“Do this for me.”

She surrendered, resting her arms over her head. Her chest puffed and the gentle slope of her navel to her hips nearly convinced me to stay between the sheets. I kissed a trail over her neck and pulled from her heat.

“But I was liking that,” she pouted, snuggling back into the blankets.

“Good.” I paused. “I’m giving you to Max today.”

“You’re
giving
me to Max?”

Hearing it from her didn’t make it any more palatable. But what choice did I have? Time was against us.
Nature
was against us. My father expected results. One month without a conception was reasonable, maybe even two, if the websites I studied were accurate. But my father was not a patient man. He prioritized creating the child, but he would kill her if she was close to earning the trust.

The punishment for losing our chance to seize Atwood Industries would be severe.

And so I’d give her to Max and Reed. To save their lives. To save her life.

And to create the life that would end this madness.

I wanted that heir. Christ, did I want her child to be mine. Only then would Sarah be safe. Only then would she belong to me and me alone.

Only then could I have my wealth, my companies, and my love combined in to a single, unstoppable empire, more powerful and profitable than my father ever dreamed.

And I’d do it with her.

For her.

Even if it meant giving her to my brothers to ensure at least part of that dream became reality.

I dressed, but she didn’t let me prepare for work in peace.

“You think you can just give me away?”

“Yes.”

“What if I wasn’t feeling Max today?” She bit her lip. “What if I thought Reed should have his way with me?”

She tested me. What did she expect? Jealousy leeched into my blood, but Sarah at least found comfort in their arms. Her moans. Her shudders. Her trembling orgasms. Her pleasure was the greatest beauty in this world, even if it confused her to cry out for Max and Reed.

Then again, my reaction was curious as well. A dark possession blinded me, but I hadn’t gone mad. Just the opposite. Everything about Sarah enthralled me, even when I wasn’t the one enjoying her.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You’ll stay with either Max or Reed today.”

“And…you want them to fuck me?”

The command came easier knowing I was the first to take her in the day, and I’d be the last to savor her at night.

“Yes.”

“Do you trust them that much?” She asked.

“I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should I have reason to doubt you?”

She flushed. “What if I enjoy it with them?”

“I hope that you do.”

“But…” She sighed, staring at the ceiling. “You can’t be okay with this. Nick, I don’t…I’d hate for this to tear us apart.”

“Where are you sleeping, Sarah?”

“It’s too early for riddles. I’m in a bed?”

“In
my
bed.”

I leaned over her, capturing her cheek. Her wide-eyes stared up at me, entirely too bright and hopeful for the world in which I damned her.

“You will sleep every night in my bed. You’ll wake every morning in my arms. Is that clear, Ms. Atwood?” I brushed my thumb over her puffy lip. “They touch you because you are given to them. They fuck you because I order it. And you will receive them because it is what you are meant to do.”

Sarah didn’t pull away. She never did, even when it was in her best interests.

“Remember this moment,” she whispered. “Right here, right now.”

“Every second with you is forever seared in my memory.”

“Good.” Her voice was a tempting challenge. “Remember this conversation on my twenty-first birthday.”

“Why?”

“Because, Nicholas Bennett, once I own you and your company, you’ll be obeying my orders.”

“And what would those entail?”

“You touching me because I want it. You taking me because I command it.”

It was a defeat worth earning. She leaned in, but I denied her, if only to watch her pout.

“You’ll get that kiss once I return,” I said.

“I’ll hope for more than a kiss.”

Dangerous girl.

I pushed her back onto the bed as she dared to sit up. She obeyed with a quirk her eyebrow. She quieted, but she wasn’t tamed.

Not yet.

Her soft curves nestled into the blankets. For a single, indulgent moment, I imagined how beautiful she would look with the gentle swell over her belly.

I hardened again and ignored the fantasy that bordered on sin. The cool shower steadied my base instincts. I dressed and let her sleep.

The helicopter stood by to take me to San Jose. I texted Max from the air.

Sarah’s yours today.

His response was delayed.
Should I marinate her, or can I treat her like any old piece of meat?

I didn’t have time for his games.
Keep her safe today. Make sure she behaves.

Where’s Dad?

Where else?
With me. Board meeting.

Can you keep it together?

Did I have a choice? I had to control myself, just as I had to force Sarah to apologize to the monster who mistreated her.

A punch to his face wasn’t enough. Not when my fists still clenched, my teeth gritted in obedient silence, and my blood dissolved all Bennett loyalty.

I detested violence.

I hated my father more.

He met me within the main conference room. I wasn’t as late as I thought. Only four of our shareholders had arrived. Of course, they were the members of my father’s inner circle. Old money.

Billions of dollars sat at the table, a soft majority of it in my family’s pocket, but it wasn’t enough. Money bought power. The men who helped to make our company grow, the ones who invested and fought and profited, they always coveted more.

Then Josmik Holdings waved a stack of Atwood cash under their noses. Some refused, but others? Just like Sarah Atwood, some temptations were too hard to resist.

“Nicholas, sit.” My father took his seat at the head of the table. He greeted me with sincerity. I believed none of it.

Was this what he did to her?

Lured her to his office. Offered her a chair. Sunk in his teeth for the kill?

I chose one of many available seats. Odd. Where was the rest of the board?

“Should we get started?” My father accepted a mug of coffee from the brunette secretary he kept too close during the day.

I declined the coffee. She moved to the man opposite me—Bryant Maddox, one of my father’s long-term investors and the only son of a bitch more dangerous to the young secretary than a Bennett.

He did take a cup, though his request for sugar came with a pat to her ass. She shifted from him and tended to the other men—each older, richer, and less trustworthy than the last.

“We don’t have a quorum.” I paged through my emails. I received nothing explaining their absences. I hated ill-manners more than tardiness. “We should postpone for other board members.”

My father dismissed his secretary with a pleasant smile that wouldn’t have fooled a child.

“This isn’t a formal meeting,” he said. “We’ll only discuss old business. No sense disrupting everyone’s day.”

My father never played his board meetings
informally
. Usually, the stockholders would arrive—on time and accounted for—settle into their seats, and throw softball questions at us regarding the business, the profits, and the direction of the company. Most of the questions I answered. My father would summon a CFO to field more the complicated inquiries. The business was formal, stagnant, and the board didn’t delve too deeply into the Bennett Corporation. What was going on?

“Nicholas,” my father said. “Can you give us an update, son?”

The clenching of my gut wasn’t just intuition. Twenty-nine years of fear, apprehension, and the strike of a cane against my back taught me more than respect. I learned my father’s expectations with every bleeding punishment.

Something was wrong.

I cleared my throat. “An update on what exactly? Monthly projections? I have some data from the second quarter pending, I might be able to estimate profits—”

“No, Nicholas. An update on Sarah Atwood.”

Even her name stuck in his throat like wax. He couldn’t speak of her without tempting whatever vile aspect of his nature heated his blood.

It heated mine too, but at least I admitted I was dangerous to Sarah.

I delayed as long as I could. The board waited patiently.

“Sarah Atwood knows nothing of Josmik Holdings,” I said. They nodded. “We have some time yet before she is awarded her inheritance, and I’m encouraging the stockholders who entered agreements with Mark, Josiah, and Michael Atwood to reconsider their arrangements.” I met my father’s gaze. “I have no doubt we will maintain control of the Bennett Corporation.”