Monster (2 page)

Eden came to her feet wincing when a slight bit of pain shot between her legs. The shower felt great, but the soreness would remain for a few days, along with the bruises that marred her skin.

She wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror and found a pair of honey gold eyes staring back at her from a round, somewhat attractive face. She wasn’t ugly honestly, although she could say that her mouth was a little too wide and her eyes a little too sunken, but those were features she’d inherited from an unknown father. Her mother hadn’t spoken much of the man who’d been in her life for only period of time, but she did tell Eden that she’d inherited the “music” from him. He’d been a jazz musician from what she knew, and they’d shared a supernova romance that had come and gone, leaving Eden as a result.

Her mother had been in love with him, but he’d already devoted his life to music. And so he’d gone, and she’d been left to raise Eden by herself—a white mother raising a biracial child in the heart of crime central. They’d had more than a few challenges to say the least. It was with her mother’s eyes that Eden assessed herself further, grateful the bruises were not substantial this time. She could hide them well. She was petite but well proportioned, with breasts that were still perky and full, although she’d been on the smaller side when she’d been at Crazy Pussy. Her ritualistic morning jogs kept her fit, her stomach flat, arms and legs well-toned, and a cute little butt she thought to be her best feature. Dominic liked her hair long so every few weeks Eden paid a ridiculous amount of money to have a few pieces added to her wavy, shoulder length hair so that it nearly reached her butt when it was done. She’d gathered the mass of chestnut waves into a topknot for now. Eden stepped a little closer to the mirror, her fingers shooting up to her neck and sighed at the bruise forming from the collar. Dominic was bastard.

Exercising helped. Putting her body through its paces eased
her troubles, helped her forget that she wasn’t bruised and aching from Dominic’s horrible mistreatment of her, that she wasn’t some mindless blow up doll who catered to Dominic’s every sick need. For an hour, Eden could pretend that she hadn’t married prematurely, and that she was just a twenty-thee-year-old woman doing normal twenty-three-year-old things. The pain melted into the sweat glistening off her skin, the burn was inconsequential, and all that mattered was finishing strong. Raising her hand, she tapped a finger on the treadmill to accelerate the speed. When the machine beeped and gradually slowed for her cool down, reality seeped back in. She headed upstairs to shower, grateful that she didn’t run into Dominic. She didn’t know where he was today—Eden had woken up and he’d been gone—but she really didn’t care. The days were hers; he seldom bothered her when the sun was up. She was a lady of leisure, so she dressed, set her oversized, designer sunglasses on her face, and went about putting her husband’s credit cards to work.

She returned later in the afternoon to Dominic promptly informing her that they were going to have guests, and she was to be well prepared to play hostess. It was while seated in front of her vanity, freshly showered and wearing a newly purchased royal blue satin robe that he came to her again. She felt his presence instantly and tried not to stiffen. In the attempt to ignore him, Eden concentrated on her reflection. Having chosen to keep the makeup minimal; she’d accentuated her eyes with liquid eyeliner, making sure to pull slightly at the end to give her a cat-eye effect. Mascara made her lashes exotically lush, while the slightest bit of blush to her cheeks gave one the mistaken impression of innocence. She could feel him watching her, examining her every move with a criticalness that always set her on edge. Eden didn’t miss the slight tremor of her hand as she picked up the YSL tube of lipstick.

“I prefer the red,” he said tonelessly, and as hard as she’d tried not to meet his gaze in the mirror, her eyes inadvertently slid up to those hooded green eyes. His expression revealed nothing of what he was thinking as he silently strode towards her, his leonine grace making her feel every bit the prey she was. Her heart picked up speed and she hated that he had the ability to affect her this way. He came to a stop behind her, and she locked her spine, sitting ramrod straight, she refused the gasp that threatened to escape at the whisper of his touch. It was the slightest of caress, his large hand whispering ever so gently down the column of her neck. Tension locking her bones, anxiousness arresting the air in her lungs, Eden watched bemusedly as that large hand crept lower, nudging away at the satin robe until one side slide down, pooling at her elbow, and exposing the swells of her macchiato cleavage to his avaricious gaze. It was achingly sensual watching him as that skillful hand slid down until he cupped her breast.

He was riveted by her expression, his green eyes watched her carefully, assessed her, craved her reaction like sustenance. Eden fought to keep that reaction to herself, refusing to share with him what she knew he so desperately craved. But he was a master at this game, the puppeteer to her marionette, and he pulled the strings accordingly, index and thumb tugged and twisted her nipples to tender peaks, and his lips drew up when he heard that delicious little moan. He stooped down just a bit and languidly slid his tongue up the side of her neck and while she shuddered, he took her ear between his teeth and nipped. “The red, my pet,” he said huskily, “so I can see it on my cock.” He kissed her shoulder before meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He was gone and Eden was once again left utterly bereft. She stared at the woman in the mirror with silent reproach, realizing how differently things turned out in the four years since she’d been with Dominic.

She’d been painfully naïve in that first year of their marriage, believing with a hopeful heart that love would somehow bloom from their union. She hadn’t deluded herself into believing that they’d come together for any other reasons than using each other, but she’d been hopeful that they would overcome their dysfunctional beginning and form some sort of companionship. With her mother gone, Dominic had been her family and he’d been Eden’s hope of having children of her own. But he had quickly disabused her of those notions. Dominic Armstrong had married her simply for her body. A warm, supple body he could master and manipulate between imported cotton cloud sheets. And her body always surrendered to his mastery, didn’t it? Denying it seemed futile when the evidence was between her thighs. How was it possible to share an emotionless, loveless marriage with someone, yet be so drawn to them? So pathetically impassioned of them? She didn’t want to feel this way. Eden didn’t want to need him. The hypocrisy made her sick.

* * *

Dominic was a connoisseur of beautiful things. He had a room just below the mansion filled with priceless artifacts he’d collected over the years. Some of those things had been acquired through less than scrupulous means, but all the same, he’d eventually obtained them. Money made the world go round, it was a great incentive to nearly everything, and people were always more accommodating when they saw it. His little wife had certainly been impressed enough to sell herself to him for a measly
half-million dollars. He watched her enter his private room, his methodical gaze raking over her with chilling accuracy. He knew every inch of that sinful body, had fucked and defiled every hole. He knew the location of every birthmark, had swept his tongue along every contour. He’d dined on the sweetness between her legs, had devoured her essence like it were ambrosia, and he found that he still could not get enough. The hunger he’d felt, the unmitigated lust that had struck him the very first time he’s laid eyes on her, refused to ebb.

He and his half-brother had the same taste in women, so Dominic hadn’t been surprised that Lucas had found Eden Mercer fascinating. Hell, he’d been completely bowled over the first time he saw her too. She’d been nineteen, nubile, and ripe for the picking, even in dark rinse jeans and the camisole she’d been wearing that night four years ago when she’d piqued Dominic’s interest. He remembered the bar. He remembered the cigarette smoke that had hung over the crowd like a cloud. The reason as to why he’d been among the common folk of late night downtown, attempting to drown his troubles in cheap watered-down liquor had evaporated the instant she’d stepped on stage. Eidetic memory replayed that very first moment, her hair had been shorter then, skimming just above her shoulders.

Skin like honey had glowed beautifully beneath the soft light of the stage, Dominic remembered sitting up a little straighter in his seat in the darkened corner of the bar. There’d been nervous energy haloing her petite frame, Dominic remembered the sweep of her pink tongue across her full mouth and how that one small gesture had made him want to bum-rush the stage and go caveman on her. He remembered the soft strains of the acoustic and then her voice—a breathy, gravelly sound that had instantly conjured images sex and made him rock hard. She’d sounded like the jazz singers of old, a siren at her microphone seducing the crowd with that low, smoky voice. When she’d disappeared, the absence of her presence had been staggering. He’d blinked a few times as if emerging from the best orgasm of his life. He’d felt unbalanced and remembered going home, standing beneath the powerful sprays of his shower and jacking off like some prurient teenager with his first porno flick.

She became Dominic’s obsession, and he’d known instantly that he would own her. She’d been a rarity, an artifact, another possession he needed to add to his innumerable collection. He’d worked diligently after that, twisting the hands of fate by calling in favors from the seamier lot of the city’s underbelly. He’d further compounded her and her mother’s staggering financial debt, he’d wanted them cornered and desperate. Then Dominic had waited patiently for the right moment to pounce. And it had all worked accordingly, although the slight hiccup with Lucas had been unforeseen.

She’d been Lucas’s latest amusement, but unlike his half-brother’s previous vices, this had been strictly off limits. Luckily Gregory and Millicent Armstrong had gotten wind of Lucas’s inane idea of marriage the very same time Dominic had discovered his brother sniffing around his property. And, just as he’d done when they were younger, Dominic had been called upon by the Armstrong patriarch to clean up his brother’s mess once again. The mess had been none other than Eden Mercer. The irony hadn’t been lost on Dominic. He couldn’t have worked it out better himself, but then again, he had.

Although the unexpected change of plans had taken him off guard. His lips drew upward slightly but not enough to form a smirk at the memory. Marriage. The idea would’ve been laughable had she not been so serious. He’d been inclined to call her bluff, but his own needs had been far too great. Pestered by a psychosis that he’d acquired sometime in his late teenage years, Dominic had been determined to have her, to own her, another rare beautiful piece for his vast collection. She could’ve made several other conditions and he would’ve agreed to anything just to possess her. But aside from that stipulation, she’d come without protest. She had seen the dollar signs and had eagerly given him access to the heaven between her thighs, where he reaped the benefits of his investment each and every night he was able.

The two men seated in the room with him were his special guests tonight. Bruce Barrett, the only person in the world he could call his best friend, sat a few inches from him in the leather wing back chair. While Brandon Jacobs, his VP, occupied another chair across the room. Dominic had invited them to dinner, he’d offered them the best of his liquor, and now he wanted to share with them his finest possession. It was about pride in all honesty, his Eden was another way for Dominic to further feed his ego.

She appeared in his line of sight, the satin robe she wore hanging slightly open but the sash kept it place—for now. She was barefooted as she came to a stop beside his chair and from beneath the veil of her dark lashes she looked at him, there was defiance in those honey gold eyes, but Dominic knew she wouldn’t dare embarrass him. He didn’t mind the defiance; in fact, he relished the challenge of breaking her each and every time. It made him hard just thinking about it.

“What will it be?” she asked in that dick stroking voice.

“Put on a show, my sweet,” he replied, taking a sip from his tumbler.

“Anything you want.”

He liked that. He was going to reward her for that.

He turned on the music for her, something slow and sultry but rich in bass. Seduction in every delicate footfall, she was every inch the seductress as she sashayed to the center of the triangle they made. She drew the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth while slowly tugging on the sash. His hooded gaze settled on her, raked her from head to toe with a sharp look that missed nothing. She’d left her sable black hair undone just as he’d advised from previous shows. It framed her oval face in loose waves, tumbling around her delicate rounded shoulders and down her back. The slight bit of makeup she had on only accentuated her features because he didn’t like her beauty tainted with.

Slowly shrugging out of her robe, she allowed it to slide down her body and pool at her feet. Dominic’s cock twitched even before the first glimpse of macchiato skin was revealed. The corners of his mouth rose slightly in semblance of a smile as he watched her. She had a body that was made for sin, and Dominic was just wicked enough to partake of the pleasures it offered. She was a slight little thing. Standing no taller than ’five foot, but she had the most alluring curves, rounded perfectly in all the right places. The bit of titillating black lace that covered her high, full breasts had Dominic’s hands itching to tear it off. His gaze veered down further, to the flat of her abdomen, halting briefly on the black lace garter belt and matching thong. She painted an alluring image, the combination of French lace and caramel skin made it nearly impossible to remain seated. Dominic aspired for control; he would have her soon enough. All in good time.

She began with a slow seductive strut, one delicate foot in front of the other, while swaying her body to the music. She touched herself, gliding fingertips slowly and lightly down the side of her body, caressing her neck and her tantalizing cleavage. Instead of focusing her attention on him, she went to Bruce and looked at Brandon as she seduced both men, completely ignoring Dominic. With her back to Bruce and her gaze locked on Brandon, she bent at the waist and grazed her hands down her legs, swinging her hips back and forth, the position giving Bruce, and only Bruce, a tantalizing image of her ass and the thong that gloved her shaved cunt so perfectly. Lifting her head slightly, she tossed her hair back, and found Bruce’s gaze trained exactly where she wanted it.

She lowered on all fours hedging backwards and stopped when she was between his parted legs. Settling her hands on either side of his knees, she slowly stood and rocked her body, swaying her hips from side to side on his lap, feeling the evidence of his arousal like steel beneath her. For just a brief second she dared to look in Dominic’s direction and nearly faltered at his hard, narrowed, cold stare. She should’ve stopped then, preservation begging her to think of the consequences of her actions, but Eden failed to heed caution and pressed on. She rolled her body to a standing position; reaching behind her to unhook her bra Eden maneuvered her arm to cover her breasts as she tossed the flimsy piece of garment at Brandon.

He’d done this to humiliate her. His sexual proclivities were always accomplished at Eden’s expense. He wanted to humiliate her, fine. She could have her own fun in the process. Bruce wanted to fuck her, Eden made sure he got close enough. She was playing a dangerous game, poking the predator with a stick, but she didn’t really give a damn. She straddled his lap and removed her arm, all for his viewing pleasure. With a coquettish smile she undulated her body so that her breasts, her nipples scraped deliciously across his dress shirt. The moment she raised her arms to settle her hands on Bruce’s shoulders, she felt the hot brand of Dominic’s hand at her nape, his fingers wrapping securely around her neck.