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Dorian stood as well and walked over to me. “They were born the same year, and their birthdays were only a few months’ apart. The van den Beek name is synonymous with the diamond industry—specifically conflict diamonds. Not to mention the family were staunch supporters of the apartheid regime. Do you honestly believe Jeroen van den Beek would have been a success story had he not sacrificed his brother’s life, assumed his identity and
literally
became him?”

“How can you possibly know all of this?” I shook my head, trying to erase this whole dreaded story from my mind as Dorian walked me up the stairs to his bedroom.

“It’s common knowledge in South Africa or did you forget I spent more time in that country than I have in the States?” His arm wrapped around my waist possessively. “What I find amazing is that you feel guilty about what you’ve done when in fact you did the world a favor. Jeroen van den Beek should have been murdered a long time ago yet it took his trophy wife to make it happen.”

I looked into his eyes and there it was all along. He hadn’t chosen me randomly in that crowd. Somehow or another, he knew what I’d done and set me up to be the perfect foil for him. He was no angel either, and he needed someone as ruthless and heartless by his side as he truly was but hid behind a veneer of civility and class.

The man was a predator and for the first time since the age of fourteen, I’d been outplayed.

Checkmate.

The look on Alyssa’s face was priceless, and one Dorian would cherish over and over again. Unfortunately for her, the secrets he’d spilled wouldn’t be his last but he was done with their certain brand of foreplay.

There truly was something fascinating about playing against an opponent who was almost as good as him but one he knew he could make even better. Alyssa was perfect for him in every way but she wasn’t ruthless
enough
yet. Her cold heart and almost apathetic personality derived from heartbreak at an early age. The events of her life had slowly turned her into a sociopath where as Dorian was born one.

How could be not be with the parents he had and the family lineage he derived from? Where others would have tried to suppress their natural instincts, he thrived on his. It was fun being who ever and whatever was acquired of him to get what he wanted. True, he’d never killed for pleasure like Alyssa—that was one area about her life he was incredibly envious of—but he’d murdered in the name of survival.

It was the way of the world, and he had so much to teach her but she had to be willing to learn. In order to flourish, she would have to truly understand the real meaning of being completely powerless. She hadn’t felt it yet though she thought she had. When he was through with her, she would reach her full potential and be the woman she was meant to be. Of course that meant she would also be by his side, not just as a significant other or girlfriend but as his
wife
.

“How did you find out, and what do you want?” She didn’t even bother to flinch though her hazel eyes had taken on green striations near the pupils.

“The how is inconsequential but the what is extremely important.” Dorian smiled playfully. “However I can’t indulge my whole plan to you just yet. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“I’m willing to do anything you want me to do as long as you agree to get rid of Campbell.” He laid her on the bed and straddled her between his strong legs though he never applied any of his weight on her slender frame. “I don’t mean you have to get rid of him yourself—”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he questioned casually as he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. “Involving more people can be dangerous and lead to blackmail. We have a dynasty to preserve after all.”

Alyssa’s smile diminished. “You didn’t sleep with . . . Ella . . . in here, did you?”

“What difference does it make? I changed the mattress pad and the sheets—I’m quite hygienic you know. I used a condom too. I’ve decided that since we are going to get to know each other so well, there shouldn’t be any secrets between us. You’re the first woman I want to face when I fuck you. I want to eat out that gorgeous pussy of yours, and I want you to scream with pleasure from my cock. So, tell me, when’s the last time a man went down on you?”

She looked into his eyes and he realized that deadly combination of her vulnerability mixed with the fact that she could be dangerous when threatened was what attracted her to him in the first place.

Alyssa reminded Dorian of the infamous child soldiers in Africa they had to brainwash and dope up just to shoot people because they’d once been innocent little boys whose only wish was to go to school and play footie. The warlords didn’t give a shit about that; as long as they could hold an AK-47, they were just as effective as any other soldier out there.

The Dark Continent was much more part of his blood than the land of free and the home of the brave. He understood, loathed and loved the land of his metamorphosis and all the different countries with their hidden beauty that could still make him weak. He longed again to walk barefoot on that brick red soil, rumored to be its color from all the bloodshed and horror that had taken place over the centuries. If he hadn’t spent most of his life in South Africa, he would never believe it a rumor, and accepted as the harsh, cold truth that people were able to live with. And yet he could also understand the sacrifices that had been made to keep the country together—as much as that could be accomplished.

Alyssa’s soft hands touched his face, and he realized he was the one who’d blanked out this time. It was so easy to do because whether she realized it or not, she reminded him of home. He wanted to have a home again even if it couldn’t be where he truly wanted to be. In that case, he would have to worship her and convince her she was the most important person in his life while he slowly broke down her walls and turned her into the woman he needed her to become.

When he was finished with her, she would be cold, calculating, able to withstand more pain than she ever thought, and yet still be one of the most beautiful and feminine women alive. Men would desire her and other women would be completely jealous of her because she would have that
“je ne sais quoi”
aura about her.

She’d be flawless, like those beautiful diamonds before they were polished and sold on the high street. Uncut diamonds were even more beautiful than after they were prettied up because there was a natural beauty that could never be taken away despite the fact it was just a rock.

He had a whole safe deposit box full of uncut diamonds from all the years he worked as a mercenary, and when the time came, Alyssa could decide what color diamond she wanted to wear on her finger and he’d make it so.

But first, the agony before the ecstasy.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you where you went?” she inquired in that sexy voice of hers with just the right amount of smoky quality though as far as he knew she didn’t indulge in the filthy habit.

“Inside but don’t take it personally. It’s not that I don’t find you one of the most fascinating women I’ve ever met, it’s merely something that is . . . habit I guess. I spent most of my childhood exploring my own feelings and not enough time talking. I suppose that’s why I love music—I can express myself without saying a word. In fact, I can create a great track and have some beautiful woman or gorgeous man’s voice interpret the words for me and it’s a million times better than singing them myself.”

“So you can sing?”

Dorian stared her down with captivating blue eyes. “Yes, I can sing but I choose not to. I enjoy being the anonymous guy mixing and making the music but not having to utter a word. You see every kind of music has a purpose and to me, progressive house is my classical genre. I like that I can mold it to be whatever I want.”

Alyssa smirked but somehow it made her more beautiful and playful. “I hate classical music. It’s the music of intellectuals, crazies and serial killers. I used to hate going to see my shrink because that’s all she played and all I could think about was waking up with smelling salts to find Hannibal Lector bent over me.”

“What would he say to you?” he inquired as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper.

“How great my brains tasted with just a little butter, garlic and a nice cabernet sauvignon he’d picked up at a street market in Versailles.”

“Is it a reoccurring nightmare?”

Her gorgeous hazel eyes wandered from that exposed male part of him up to his face. “Unfortunately . . . but you must know I would rather dream about much more fulfilling pleasures of the flesh.”

Dorian leaned over her and kissed her mouth before he pulled away slowly. “Then let me help you on your way to making every dream you’d love to have a reality.”

He’d bewitched me.

When had he sunk beneath my flesh and allowed me to forgive his transgressions when I could never imagine doing it for anyone else?

I wasn’t in love but the lust factor was high and the adrenaline it had pumping through my veins was an aphrodisiac itself. As much as I hated myself for wanting to get to know this man, I did. I despised myself even more knowing that we were entering a shared conspiracy that would have actions beyond ourselves but like an alcoholic after their first drink for the evening, I couldn’t help myself.

Dorian was my drug of choice and just one hit was all I’d needed to become hooked.

Those three weeks without him were torture. Filled with sleepless nights I would dream about his cock and what I would have liked him to do to me. Everything about him was so fucking cerebral that my brain didn’t seem to function unless he was part of my thoughts.

It was frightening and exciting at the same time because I’d never been dependent on anyone except for reasons of self-preservation but I didn’t fear him, not even knowing he knew my deepest, darkest secret.

The moment he unzipped his jeans and I glimpsed his perfectly large cock surrounded by closely shaved pubic hair, all I wanted him to do was take me. Yes, I would love for us to fuck looking at one another but that all left my mind the moment that beautiful male organ was displayed before me. I was lust sick/love drunk on the feeling of him being inside me and once would
never
be enough.

“Tell me you want me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

I looked into his blazing blue eyes and replied, “I want you. I don’t care what happened between you and that stupid little twit earlier but I have to have you. Here. Now.”

Dorian smiled and leaned over me again. His hands gripped my wrists as he devoured me in a kiss this time filled with tongue, teeth and every other part of our mouths. It was soul-draining and completely life-fulfilling in its intensity. He made me feel like I was a goddess and he was a god—that we were meant to be together whether I wanted to accept the inevitable or not.

That kind of fantasy was overwhelming in its intentions and something that I wouldn’t forget any time soon. Perhaps one day, I would understand why my mother stayed with my father, even though she knew he would kill her. If anyone could help me come to terms with such a traumatic event, I knew it would be the man hovering over me who refused for me to bear the weight of his body.

I turned us over in a maneuver that proved I was stronger than I gave myself credit for and kissed the side of his face, the feeling of his five o’clock shadow rough against my soft lips before I whispered in his ear, “Fuck me.”

Dorian let go of my wrists and slid the top of my dress down, baring my breasts before he leaned up devoured a nipple in that wet, warm mouth of his. I threw my head back in ecstasy as he switched nipples and did the same to the other while twirling the other between seductive fingers that lit my whole body on fire.

“Don’t worry, I will fuck you but first, let me take in all that is you. I never got to appreciate the overwhelming beauty of your body the first time around. I was like a school boy who’d never had sex before and this time, I want to memorize every inch of you.”

I laughed out loud in a low, throaty chuckle. “Honey, it’s gonna take more than one night to memorize every inch of my body.”

He slipped my dress over my head and threw it on the floor. “Is that a challenge? You should know that I rise to the occasion when I’m challenged.”

Our lips were dangerously close together as I whispered, “I have no doubt, Mr. Petersson.”

Despite me being on top, he lay back down and managed to maneuver himself into a position where my throbbing sex was just above his mouth and the only piece of fabric that separated my slick wet juices from dripping between his sensuous lips were a pair of expensive lace courtesy of La Perla. This time I’d worn a thong because they provided easier access.

Dorian slipped the stringy lace material to the side and I realized I truly was bared to him. I endured the ever-popular Brazilian wax like most women in this town—if they didn’t shave everything, which was also popular, but I wanted to still feel like a woman. Women had pubic hair—that’s what separated them from little girls and that landing strip somehow made me feel feminine and sexy instead of exposed and child-like.

“Your pussy is even more beautiful than I imagined. We need to fuck with the lights on all the time. Now, I won’t ever want to not see it.”

A chuckle escaped from my mouth until his tongue slid between my folds and found my hard throbbing clit. I stopped laughing and my breath came in pants as his beautiful mouth manipulated me in ways I’d never known a man could do to me to bring me so much pleasure.

I was far from a novice and I had my expensive toys but he was better than anything I owned at home. The way he manipulated me, his fingers sliding all the way to the hilt and finding that spongy tissue inside me where a mere orgasm felt like fireworks on the Fourth of July, Christmas, my birthday, and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one explosion of the senses.

Somehow, he knew just how to please me and the more his tongue and mouth manipulated my clit while his fingers worked inside of me built up a pressure I couldn’t stop. I was ready to explode and just when I thought he might deny me the opportunity to come, he pushed me over the edge and it was everything and more I could ever imagine.

I moaned out loud and bucked my hips against his face as rolling waves of pleasure consumed me beyond mere desire but deep into the heart of an unknown place no one had ever penetrated inside me. How he’d taken me there I had no idea because I hadn’t given him permission, at least I kept telling myself that though no other had ever come close to making me feel what he’d just done.

I shakily climbed off his face and fell onto my back, my whole body flushed with desire yet it didn’t stop me from watching him remove his jeans. His body was all-lean, sinewy muscle with a perfect cock meant for fucking. My eyes were glued to the specimen as he climbed onto my body and held me by my wrists again. I wasn’t worried about his will to dominate me but shouldn’t he have guided his cock inside me before he’d decided to go all alpha male on me?

It was like he could read my mind as he said, “Your cunt is ripe and ready for me. Believe me, I’ll find that sweet spot again and my cock can take care of itself. Let me take care of you.”

That he did as he claimed my lips again like they were his own personal property as his dick slid inside of me easily. I was so wet, there wasn’t any resistance of any kind but when he finally had me and was ball’s deep, I wanted to weep because it felt like I’d been welcomed home.

What the hell was it about him that could make me feel so calm and yet on edge when he fucked me because that’s exactly what we did and I didn’t have a feeling or care to the contrary in the world. All I wanted was him deep inside of me, his hips ground against my own as he thrust in and out of me at a leisurely pace that seemed like he was delaying my second orgasm and perhaps his own.

I realized then when I said I would do anything for him, I’d truly meant it. There wasn’t a position we didn’t try and when he squeezed my nipples to the point of where an explosive pain met a pinpoint of pleasure, I responded by clasping my hands over his own and pleading for him to hurt me even more.

Of course Dorian was the perfect attentive lover. He truly didn’t have any overly sadistic tendencies he wanted to share with me. Even when he took me to the edge of pleasure where pain collided, he knew when to pull back and allowed me an indulgence that no man had ever granted me.

I wanted him to talk dirty to me and degradation would have been best but unfortunately, few words were exchanged between us. We were all demanding hands, lips, legs and sexual organs that sought out each other over and over again.

By the time we came together, I’d forgotten how many times he’d brought me to pleasure and the dusk of the evening had faded into the time of the night when it was darkest. We had spent all night fucking each other and from the time on the digital clock, dawn wasn’t far away.

Now I understood why I was so sore yet my body had never felt so sated or satisfied. It was the perfect feeling, and as he wrapped his arms around me, I leaned against him and settled into the position. There was nothing strange about him holding me like I was the only woman in the world. I wanted him to think I was special, and to have him worship me was a feeling I’d never experienced before. I’d been used plenty of times but the whole thought of someone finding reverence in my body was a revelation unto itself.

“How do you feel?” Dorian whispered in my ear and despite my wish not to, a smile formed on my lips.

“Deliciously sore and so very satisfied. I’ve never felt this way before . . . ever. Am I supposed to reveal that to you?” I wondered out loud.

“Of course. We have no secrets from each other, remember? I want you to know everything about me and eventually, I will tell you because I know everything about you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that comment but I found the words anyway. “I have no doubt. If you know me well enough then you’ll spare me some of the details I’m not ready to talk about with anyone.”

“You mean . . .”

“You know
exactly
what I mean, Dorian. If I haven’t shared it with another living soul for twenty years then let me tell you in my own time. You might know the facts but you don’t know how I
feel
. I was there and I wasn’t supposed to be. The look on my father’s face when he stared at me—oh, God . . . I knew he felt like he’d not only betrayed my mother but me as well. He didn’t have a choice but to eat the gun after that, and I live with that on my conscience each and
every
day.”

I paused and tried to stop the tears from falling sideways down my face. “I shouldn’t have come home early from the movie date I had with my friends but I’d sensed something was wrong all day long. Mom and Dad had been fighting more than usual and it was all about a certain man, Richard Conlon. Dad accused Mom of having an affair but that it had gotten her nowhere because not only had he gotten her dropped from the label but he’d made her have an abortion.”

Dorian wrapped me tighter in his arms. “I know all about what happened, Alyssa. I know why you chose Jeroen, and you made him suffer.”

“You mean Richard.”

“He’s never been Richard to me because I know what he did to my uncle and I hate him for it. I never wanted to be a van den Beek ever. In fact, as soon as I was old enough, I changed my last name to Petersson and dropped my first name. No way did I want to be Jeroen Dorian van den Beek in the country where my family name meant the epitome of evil, depravity and the upholding of a racial regime that was deplorable and dehumanizing as apartheid.”

My heart seemed to stop beating but I knew it hadn’t. It continued to pump blood through my body all the same even though the puzzle was now coming together in my head.

Steena’s maiden name was Petersson.

Although Dorian had his mother’s features, his bone structure was pure Conlon—or shall I say van den Beek now that I knew who my deceased husband truly was.

I didn’t want to face him but I couldn’t have him tell me the truth with my back to him. I turned around in his arms and met his blue eyes—the same color as Richard’s ironically—and truly looked at the man who’d spent most of the night inside me.