Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (12 page)

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Authors: Nancy Haviland

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BOOK: Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5)
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“That will do nothing but make my cock hard, Yasmeen. Unless you wish to accommodate that, you might want to behave and not bite the hand that feeds you.”

Her mouth twisted with what looked to be humor as he got up to bring the rest of their meal over. To avoid another aggravating incident tonight, he allowed her the liberty of feeding herself. She took the bowls and handed him one after he placed the tray next to her. While they ate, she revealed her nerves through chatter. Her gaze continuously met his, and it was he who looked away when she began searching. He didn’t want her to see what was coming. Not yet.

He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused when she didn’t mention the phone call he knew she had to have made. She should have shared. But he understood she was probably afraid to. Either way, it meant nothing to him. What could her friend do to take his pet away? Nothing.

As the meal came to a close, he was surprised to find himself relaxing in light of her talk of school-day-lunch-fails—as she called them—and Raymond noodles—whatever that was. He would have thought the noise would be annoying. It wasn’t.

She neatly stacked their empty dishes, and he placed the tray on a table near the door, already knowing he would forget it and Sorin or one of the other staff would have to come for it after all.

He turned to find Yasmeen directly behind him.

“How long has Sorin been with you?”

He tipped his head. “Why?”

She shrugged and started worrying the edge of his shirt. “Curious. It’s clear he loves you and is concerned for you. I was just wondering…” She dropped her hands and stepped back.

He suspected what he was feeling at being reminded of his early years had come through in his expression because hers become wary.

“Sorin has been in my life since we were fourteen.”

“Oh. You’re lucky to have a friend like him.”

“He will take you into town tomorrow. You can buy Miranda and Eric something from one of the shops. How are they?”

The smooth skin of her beautiful throat rippled through a swallow he heard. “They’re better now.”

He liked that she didn’t insult him by attempting to lie. “After hearing from you.”

She inched another step back before nodding.

“Do you think I might strike you, Yasmeen?”

“No. But I’ve been wrong about that before.”

“Really. When?” His mind opened up, and suddenly he wasn’t the only one listening for her answer. The darkness inside him wanted to know who it would swallow.

“A couple of the homes I stayed in weren’t the best place for a little kid. If the men drank, they usually weren’t happy drunks.”

“They hit you?”

“A few of them.” She was playing with the ends of her hair, wrapping a lock around her pinkie so tight the tip was turning purple. “I only had to stay a couple of months before my worker pulled me from places like that.”

“Have you always been Yasmeen Michaels? Or did you go by another name growing up?” His insides were charring at the image of his pet as a ten-year-old girl, cowering in a corner as some drunk slapped or punched her.

“No. I’ve always been Yasmeen.”

“Did they make you bleed?”

Her hands coming to rest on his waist had him blinking to find her face only inches away. “Lucian, it’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Did you bleed by their hand?”

She dropped her eyes. “Sometimes. One of them slapped me across the face once for not closing the bread bag after I made my lunch. My nose started bleeding. It wouldn’t stop even when he sent me off to school. The nurse let me know about the pinching-the-bridge-while-tipping-your-head-back thing.”

“How old were you?” He was whispering. In his head, something was roaring in outrage.

“Nine.”

He nodded stiffly and bent to press his lips to the straight slope of her nose. “I would never strike you. Not for any reason.”

“Okay.”

“But I will spank you as a punishment if you deserve it. And to pleasure you, of course. Your ass, your clit, and your entire pussy if I see your body respond.”

A shaky laugh puffed out to warm his throat. “Uh, yeah, we’ll have to discuss that before—”

“We just did. Go to sleep now.”

He left her there. He had some records to dig up.

EIGHT

 

Yasmeen watched her imperious lover walk away, his shoulders stiff, blinders firmly in place.

Spank her pussy? Jesus…

“Er, where are you going, Lucian?”

“To my office.”

Her stomach dropped. Goosebumps pricked on her arms. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea of him going off alone looking as he did or him leaving
her
alone.

“Here in the castle?”
Please say yes.
She didn’t relish the thought of clinging to his ankle and riding his foot all the way to the foyer before he kicked her off and left.

“Yes.”

She breathed a little easier, but the closer he got to the door, the faster she began raveling and unraveling her hair on her throbbing finger. She pressed her lips together. She wouldn’t ask if she could go with him. She wouldn’t. Or, God forbid, ask him to stay with her because she was feeling vulnerable. No way. No way in hell.

“Goodnight, pet.”

“Goodnight.”

She watched the muscles beneath his shirt tighten and release with every step he took away from her. His watch glinted as he reached out and turned the knob. He walked through the door, closing it behind him. Panic filled her as the stunning room transformed into a dark attic in her mind. All around her were dust motes and spiders, a flickering nightlight, and that dirty little bed she ended up sleeping in for almost five months.

And then she was running. She wrenched open the door and called out, her voice tight and high. “Lucian?”

He stopped fifteen feet away and came around to look at her with a frown.

She’d never felt so weak. “I don’t want to stay up here by myself. Can I come with you?” Her pulse hammered when his eyes narrowed on her. “Please? I promise I won’t bother you. You won’t even know I’m there.”

A full minute went by before he lifted a hand. With a relief that weakened her muscles, she skipped to him and slipped her hand into his.

“Thank you.”

He gave a clipped nod. “Would you like to put something on your feet?”

She looked down at her bare toes and shook her head. What if he left without her?

“I laid out a nightgown in the corner of your closet. Go put on the slippers I put with it. Actually, while you are there, change into the gown, too. I will wait for you.”

She bit her lip and looked at the door to their room, then behind her at the shadowy corridor. “Promise?”

“Yes,
draga
. I promise not to leave you on your own when you are so ill at ease. I am not that cruel.”

“’Kay.” She went back and barely looked at the beautiful ivory silk creation she threw on after taking off her clothes. It was sheer, layered, and the cuffs and hemline were trimmed with the softest fur. She’d have felt like a cross between Mrs. Howell and Santa’s escort if she hadn’t felt as if she were wearing a cloud made by angels. She turned to slide her feet into the prettiest matching ballet slippers, and paused at the sight of her reflection. Wow. Her frosty madman might be nuts, but he had superb taste.

“I do not want you in anything but the gown and slippers, Yasmeen.”

As Lucian’s voice drifted to her, she had to wonder if he’d want her at all if she gained twenty pounds, got a scar or two, and cut her hair to her chin.

Swiftly stepping out of her panties, she laid them with the bra she’d already taken off. When she walked out, she felt like a naked ghost.

Lucian’s chest rose swiftly when she rushed across the room towards him, layers of silk billowing behind her. She smoothed her hair down because she suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Ready.”

He stopped her from darting past him into the hallway with an arm around her waist. Allowing the momentum to turn him into her, he backed her into the open door and pressed his body along the length of hers.

“Mesmerizing,” he breathed as he stroked from her hips up to her breasts with complete and total ownership. He rolled her nipples, passed over them a few times with his thumbs, then took his touch away once they were peaked and ready for more. “I want to have a structure built deep in the woods.” His hands came to rest on the sides of her neck, his fingertips pressing into the base of her skull. “Preferably underground so no one will ever find it. I would have them construct only one entrance, and I would have the only access code. Close your eyes.”

She held onto him with a grip on the sides of his sweater. She closed her eyes.

He kissed each one, lingering. “Do you know what I would keep in that solitary, impenetrable fortress,
draga
?”

“Your valuables?” she guessed as she gave up and went under the hem to get at his skin.

“Yes. But only one.”

“Oh. Uh, your money?”

“You.”

Her eyes flew open. “Me?” she squeaked.

“I would lock you away and never let another soul anywhere near you. My face would be the only one you would ever again see. My voice would be the only one you would hear. My touch would be the last you would ever feel. And you would feel so much of it. You would exist for me. When I made time to visit, you would celebrate my very presence. Can you imagine a life like that, my pet?”

Ice flowed through her veins. “You would return to that fortress and find a corpse. Because if you ever made me live like that, I’d kill myself.”

His fingers tightened until her head started to ache. “I would hunt you down in the afterlife if you did that to me. You would pay dearly.” He was looking down at her, but with a vacancy in his stare that told her he wasn’t really with her.

“Lucian?” She grabbed his wrists. “You’re hurting me.”

“You are hurting me.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d hit her. “What? How? Lucian, I’m here for you.” She brought her hands to his cheeks and stood on her toes so she could press her lips to his. His mouth was cold. “I want to help you.” The pressure he was exerting faded until he was simply holding her again.

He tsked as he shook his head. “I want to climb inside you and stay there until you can’t survive without me. I want to fuck your body. I want to fuck your mind into an addiction you’ll never get over. I want you to crave my touch, my voice, the scent of my skin, the feel of my mouth on you, the sensation of my cock filling you, my tongue cleaning you afterward. I want you to need what I give you. I want it so you struggle to breathe when I am not within your sights. When you can no longer smell me, I want you to whimper with a desperation that matches what I am experiencing. I want this perfect, flawless treasure you are to be dependent on me for your very life.”

His forehead was resting on hers now. Something in the very fabric of her existence understood those needs while the rational part of her found them repugnant. Excitement, terror, and a dark, writhing lust was crackling under her skin, heating her even as she chilled.

He blinked and drew in a sudden lungful of air as if he’d just come out of a trance. He straightened and slid his hands down to her shoulders before placing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Do not worry. I will send you home before I allow my demons to do those things to you. I know you deserve better. Now, come. You can sit by the fire while I attempt to work for an hour.”

As though he hadn’t just revealed to her the extent of his crazy, he took her hand and led her out of the room. There was no way to process what this might mean for her, so Yasmeen didn’t bother. Rather, she followed along and vowed to try as hard as she could to get through to him. He had to see she was more than a possession. But more importantly, she had to convince him to send those demons he spoke so fondly of on their merry way. If he allowed them to take over completely, they were both finished.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

 

They made their way to a study she’d never have found on her own. Crowded bookshelves lined the walls, and a monstrous desk sat near the window. Looking conspicuous, there had to be at least a dozen monitors set up in the far corner. Three of them were on, with one showing CNN, and the other two a stock exchange channel with the ticker tape whizzing by along the bottom of the screen. A massive globe slowly turned on an elaborate stand. As she prayed there was a magnet at work somewhere in there, her eye was drawn to the welcoming stone hearth that had a fire going. The scent in the air would have been wonderful had she not been so out of sorts.

As they passed by a sitting area, Lucian took a throw pillow from one of the chairs and tossed it onto the thick rug in front of the fireplace. A shiver passed through her when he slipped his hand around her nape and brought her around and up so he could easily reach her mouth. For the next five minutes, he played with her. He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly, tangling their tongues, tickling her lips with his fingertips, burying his nose in her hair. He strummed up and down her ribs and spine, feeling every ridge.

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