HardWind (25 page)

regretted bitterly. He recognized the signs of unbridled obsession in himself and he saw

it all too clearly in Gentry’s avid gaze.

“Now come here.”

Cringing at the command, he walked to her and stopped only a foot away from her.

He was close enough to be overpowered by her perfume and could hear the ragged

breaths she took. His arms hung loosely at his side, his eyes directed past her head so

that he stared at the wall.

“Look at me,” she said, not even giving him that out. When his gaze shifted

reluctantly to hers, she arched a perfectly tweezed brow. “Why do you make me do this

to you, Dáire?”

He spoke before he thought. “Because I can’t stand you putting your hands on me.”

Fury widened Gentry’s eyes and she thrust out a hand to grab his cock, hurting him

as she brutally squeezed his flesh, pulling upon him so hard he had no choice but to

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stumble toward her. He slammed into her, their bodies touching as she increased her

pressure on his staff.

“Don’t you
ever
say that to me again!” she spat.

He was breathing hard, his chest heaving. He could feel her breasts through the

tweed material of her suit pressing against him. She was kneading his flesh,

manhandling him and, despite himself, he felt his cock growing hard in her grip.

“Lay your ass down on the floor,” she demanded, letting go of him and shoving

him away from her.

Ashamed of his body’s reaction to her touch, he just wanted to get it over with. He

moved back and dropped to the floor, sitting there for a moment with his knees drawn

up before gritting his teeth and stretching out on the plush carpet.

“Spread your legs, pretty boy,” she instructed as her fingers went to the buttons of

her suit jacket. “And your arms.”

Feeling the heat of a hot blush staining his face, he spread-eagled his limbs and lay

there staring at the ceiling, despising her, despising himself, and itching to put his

hands around her neck and squeeze until she no longer posed a threat to him or Star or

their child.

Gentry took her time undressing. It didn’t matter to her that he wasn’t watching her

take off her clothes. It was the slowness of her movements, the deliberate taking of time,

that she knew was like running her fingernails down a chalkboard with him. From

years of knowing Dáire Cronin, she knew all the right buttons to push to irritate him to

the point where he would take her in the way she preferred. When she was naked, she

came to stand over him, straddling his lean, flat waist and looked down at him in

satisfaction.

“I offered you a chance to make an honest woman of me,” she said, and pretended

not to hear the snort of derision that came from him. “You disdained that offer, and that

was a big mistake.”

Dáire lowered his furious gaze to hers. “One you made sure I paid for,” he threw at

her.

Gentry smiled. “No one throws that kind of offer back in my face, Dáire,” she said.

“Your sojourn in Borneo was a reprimand, nothing more.”

“One that almost crippled me!” he snarled.

“It wouldn’t have come to that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have let it.” She lifted her leg

and placed her foot on his chest, ran her toes through the thick hair nestled there. “I like

your body just the way it is. Why do you think I had them cane your feet and not that

beautiful back and glorious ass?”

The memory of the intense pain he had felt as his captors had beat the soles of his

feet until he passed out made him clench his fists. He didn’t dare say what was on the

tip of his tongue for fear the insane woman standing above him would harm Star.

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Gentry drew her foot down his chest, over his belly and onto the erection that

thrust from between his legs with a mind of its own.

“Vlad?” Gentry called out, rolling Dáire’s rigid member across his abdomen.

The door to the office opened and Gentry’s bodyguard came in. Dáire could feel the

disapproving gaze of the brawny man boring through him but he refused to meet

Vlad’s glare.

“Prepare a glass of milk for him, will you?”

“No!” Dáire protested, and nearly gagged as she pushed her weight down on his

cock. He half lifted his arms to shove her away from him but reason prevailed and he

put his arms down again.

“Milady…” Vlad began, but stopped when Gentry hissed at him.

“Do as you are told!”

Dáire could see the bodyguard’s hands clenching and unclenching at his sides just

before Vlad turned away and walked to the bar fridge on the other side of the room.

“Give him a double dose of the tenerse,” Gentry ordered. “He’s not hard enough

yet.”

Humiliation rocketed through Dáire and he felt tears gathering in his eyes. He

remembered entirely too vividly the night before he’d been flown to Tokyo and the

wild, unnatural rutting session that had occurred. He had shocked himself with the

things he had done, that he had allowed done to him, and had never once thought that

unbridled sex had been drug-induced.

Vlad came back with the tenerse-laced milk and handed it to Gentry. His attention

flicked down to Dáire and the two men stared at one another for a heartbeat of time—

one filled with shame and the other with something almost akin to pity—before Vlad

turned away and stormed out of the office.

“Poor Vlad,” Gentry said as she squatted down over Dáire, the wiry hair at the

junction of her thighs mingling with his. “He is so deeply in love with me, so

completely besotted. Seeing you like this must be sheer agony for him.” She held the

glass out to him. “Drink it.”

He lifted his hand and took the glass from her. The thought of consuming the pale

pink liquid made his stomach turn.

“Drink it!”

The taste wasn’t as bad as he had prepared himself for. There was a hint of cherries

flavoring the milk, and he had to force himself to down the concoction. When he had

drained the glass, she took it from him and her expression was triumphant as he wiped

the back of his hand across his lips.

“About twenty to thirty seconds is all the time it takes for the drug to work,” she

said. She threw the glass across the room where it shattered against the expensive

paneling.

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It didn’t take that long. Uncontrollable lust rippled through Dáire in waves of heat

that set his cock to throbbing. His arms came up, his hands clamped around Gentry’s

waist and he rolled over, pinning her beneath him, his cock straining, stabbing,

thrusting at her opening.

Gentry laughed, throwing her arms around him, digging her sharp nails into the

flesh of his naked back, drawing blood. She arched her hips up to him and he jammed

himself into her wet channel like a battering ram. His hips pistoning with such force

they were both grunting, he pounded her, arching his fingers into the soft flesh of her

ass to hold her up to him. Mindlessly he drove into her over and over and over again,

straining to climax but unable to for the drug did more than just produce a rock-hard

erection—it kept him poised at the threshold of release, refusing to allow him to come.

Trembling with frustration, insane with overwhelming need and brutal lust, he

scooted them across the floor. Their bodies joined, locked, sliding along one another,

sweat poured from his superheated body. His hips rotated against hers, ground upon

hers, arched and bucked and thrust, but the relief was just out of his grasp. The

aggravation of his situation, the sheer irritation at not being able to release his seed

brought growls to his straining throat. He snatched one hand from beneath her and

savagely molded it to her breast, lowering his head so he could suckle her, lap at the

hard nipple, draw it deep into his mouth, nip it with his teeth until beads of blood

formed around the rosy nub.

“Yes,” Gentry said, thoroughly engrossed in the pain he was inflicting. She pierced

the flesh of his back with her sharp nails and felt the slickness of his blood and sweat on

her palms as she anchored him to her. Her legs were tight around his hips, her heel

drumming at the crack of his ass as he rode her. She was reveling in his cruel assault,

completely immersed in the physicality of it, the wildness that had turned his

handsome body into a pummeling machine.

Dáire was so frustrated he was crying. No matter how he moved his cock in and out

of her, ground against her, he could not reach the culmination that hovered just beyond

his reach. He shoved into her hard enough to cause rug burns on her back and

shoulders, his knees. His cock went as deep as he could be inside her and yet nothing he

did could scratch the violent itch that was flooding his lower body. His heart was racing

so fast he feared it might burst. The blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out any

other sounds save his harsh breath as he pushed into her.

“Harder,” she commanded. “Thrust harder!”

He was completely at the mercy of the drug that had taken over his sanity, his

body, his very soul. The faster he pistoned into her, the more violently he shoved

himself into her soft channel, the deeper he strived to go, the more intense became the

itch in his cock. He felt nigh to bursting—his flesh throbbing, the head of his cock being

rubbed raw, and still he was not allowed to come.

“Hurt me,” she pressed. “Hurt me, Dáire.”

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He wanted to. He wanted to push himself so far up inside her he would burst

through her womb and pierce her black heart. His fingernails gouged into her rump

until he felt blood mingling with her sweat. Without a second thought, he drew his cock

from her cunt and rammed it as hard as he could into her ass.

“Yes!” Gentry screamed. “Yes!”

He shifted her upward so that she was arched up from the floor, the better to shove

his rigid staff into her. His cock was huge, hard, filling her anus so completely neither of

them were aware of anything except the slide of flesh to flesh.

The pressure was building in his cock. He felt a series of ripples go through her and

knew she had climaxed, but he didn’t care. He wanted to reach that illusive point. He

needed
to reach it, for in a distant part of his brain that was still clinging to a modicum of

sanity, he feared his heart would burst if he didn’t come soon.

Pulling out of her anus, he shoved himself inside her cunt once more and his thrusts

became frenzied, so violent his face had turned red and a vein was pulsing dangerously

in his temple.

Gentry was climaxing again—milking him as he rammed into her. She was

grunting now with every thrust and her arms had dropped to her sides as he

pummeled her. Like a sacrifice to his overpowering lust, she lay there allowing him to

rut into her like a beast, to take her with no regard to how much he was hurting her.

“Come, baby,” she whispered to him as he lapped at her breasts once more. “That’s

it, baby. Come like you’ve never come before.”

He could feel the release roiling down through his body. Even his toes began to curl

as the intense pleasure of his release shot over him and he pulsed deep into her body,

spraying her core with cum, straining hard into her as he went still and felt the last

spasms of climax undulate through his cock. With a grunt, he collapsed atop her, lying

there panting, sweat pouring from both of them, his legs quivering from the powerful

release that had completely drained him.

Gentry smiled and wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her as though he

were her child. Her legs were stretched out along his and she was glorying in the heavy

weight of his body pressing down upon hers.

“This is the way it will always be, my love,” she whispered to him. “You belong to

me and you always will. When we get back to Florida, we will marry and you will take

over Vlad’s duties at my side. We will be together every moment of our lives.”

Dáire wasn’t aware of the tears that fell from his eyes but he felt the mortal shame,

the utter despair and the overwhelming hatred that threatened to drive him over the

brink into madness. Helpless, hopeless, filled with self-disgust, he lay there upon his

worst enemy and cried.

Outside the office door, Vlad stood with his ear pressed to the wood. He had heard

every grunt, every moan and every whimper that had come from Gentry. His fingers

traced the wood, caressed it, pawing at it like a lost child. He too was crying, but his

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tears were those of a man whose life has changed irrevocably and whose revenge

would know no boundaries.

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Chapter Fourteen

Despite hating the ocean, Jackson loved the sun and was stretched out in a chaise

lounge with a metal sun reflector under his chin, lapping up the rays. He didn’t open

his eyes as Dáire sat down on the chair next to him.

“That causes cancer,” Dáire told him.

“Man, everything I do causes cancer,” Jackson said jovially. “Name me one thing I

do that doesn’t!”

“Could you put it down a minute?”

It was the tone of voice in which his friend had made the request that got Jackson’s