XXX - 145 Enslave: The Taming of the Beast (10 page)

When it was over, he collapsed against her, his heavy breathing heating her neck. He held her tightly, as if afraid she would disappear.
She kissed his head, gently, cradling him against her.
She knew what she’d just agreed to. And, God help her…she meant every word.

Chapter Eight
Jelena wandered through the crowd, forcing herself to loosen her grip on her champagne flute before she shattered it.
The woman you’re looking for is Alexis Carmello. You won’t be able to miss her
.
Jelena met April at her apartment, getting the contact information…and, she admitted, having sex with April one more time. It had been much more intimate and exciting without Phillipe there. April admitted she was more interested in women than men, although she had learned to enjoy herself plenty with either, especially under Phillipe’s tutelage.
“Why are you involved with him anyway?” Jelena had asked her, as they lay naked in April’s queen-sized bed.
April sighed. “I came from a rough background,” she whispered. “Everyone I knew used, or hooked, or…you know. I couldn’t afford to go to college, couldn’t get scholarships, had a record. I tried to rob Phillipe one night in sheer desperation. He offered to help me out.”
“At what price?” Jelena asked, with horrified fascination.
April hadn’t answered, but the look on her face was answer enough. It had been easy to have sex with her then, if only to try and distract her from the obvious pain she’d gone through.
It honestly hadn’t been a hardship, she admitted. For one thing, April had toys, and she knew how to use them. Jelena hadn’t come that much in her life. Her body still hummed with the thrall of it…no pun intended.
Jelena still couldn’t quite understand or believe what had happened. First she’d seduced Robert, getting turned on by both the illicit aspect and the power. Now she was somehow getting involved with a younger woman, and having the best sex of her life. She was getting more depraved by the minute.
What’s worse…she was beginning to enjoy it.
She’d never really thought of herself as a sexual being before. Well, that wasn’t entirely true: obviously, if she weren’t sexual, she wouldn’t have been able to land Henry. But she was not someone who had thought overly of her own sexual needs. Now she was thinking about it, often. The idea of having sex with almost anyone didn’t bother her, although she obviously didn’t want it to be someone completely distasteful. But the fact that it might be temporary, or transac tional, or whatever, no longer created any havoc in her sense of security.
Being desired, and acting on those desires, had added a certain lope to her step. She was less deer, more lioness. Being a huntress rather than prey—now that, she really enjoyed.
She unwittingly made eye contact with a man across the room. He responded with a sensual, predatory smile of his own.
She looked away, disinterested. She had only one target tonight.
Jelena frowned as she honed her focus. She was looking for a woman with jet-black hair, clear olive skin, and movie-star good looks. She’d probably be wearing black, white or red, her signature colors. The crowd was upscale; lots of women were wearing black.
You won’t be able to miss Alexis
. At least, that’s what April said.
She was about to give up when suddenly a gap shifted in a knot of people, off in a corner by the bar. She saw the center of the group, the one who held them all in thrall and was acting as if she were holding court rather than attending a cocktail party.
Alexis
.
The woman was tall, easily close to six feet. Her jet-black hair shone like polished onyx and was cut severely, not a strand out of place. Her face was porcelain-perfect, her icy gray eyes cutting. Her lipstick was a deep wine red. She looked like a vampire. She was wearing black clothes, as April had predicted, a black halter dress that looked vintage, yet showed off the woman’s sensual curves so perfectly that it seemed bleeding-edge modern. Most of the people surrounding her were men, Jelena noticed. The woman’s lazy smile seemed to take this into account, as well.
Jelena swallowed hard, feeling some of her newfound confidence start to ebb. Bad enough to approach a stranger at a cocktail party, something she hated under any circumstances. But this? Approach this Amazon, in the middle of all her admirers? How the hell was she supposed to do
that?
As she was considering it, the woman answered the question for her. She broke away from her throng of admirers, ignoring or waving off the hands that tried to stop her. For a moment, Jelena was afraid she was too late, that the woman was already leaving the party. Instead, the woman disappeared down a hallway.
Jelena followed her, heart hammering in her chest.
Don’t tell me you’re stalking this woman to the bathroom
. It was beyond humiliating.
Still, what choice did she have?
She waited until the woman reappeared in the hallway. She took in Jelena’s hesitant form with a sort of sneer.
“Ms. Carmello?”
Alexis barely looked at her, obviously making a casual mental dismissal, and started to walk around her.
Jelena stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.
“What do you want?” Alexis drawled, her eyes showing her obvious irritation.
“I have information that you might find very interesting,” she said, as April had prepped her. God, she felt like a reject from a bad spy film, though.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Alexis responded. “Get out of my way.”
“I really need your help…”
Alexis took a step closer, her face inches from Jelena’s. “Move, or I’ll move you.”
She sounded too bored for it to be a real threat, but Jelena saw the promise of violence in the woman’s gray eyes.
“I want revenge on Dominic Luder,” Jelena whispered. “I need your help.”
Alexis’s eyes flashed with hatred, but her expression remained schooled, impassive. “Anyone could say that. How am I supposed to know you’re on the level?”
This was what April warned her of. “Any test you want, I’ll do it.”
The black-haired woman’s lips pursed. “Anything, hmm?”
Jelena nodded.
The woman stared at her, her gaze boring into Jelena. It was all Jelena could do to stop from squirming. Finally, the woman reached into her miniscule purse, producing a card.
“This is my place,” she said. “Stop by, and we’ll see what we can set up.”
She walked away. Jelena stood still, making sure she wouldn’t tremble from the adrenaline pumping through her system. When she was finally sure she had herself under control, she looked down at the card.
Earthly Delights
.
This was the brothel. Alexis’s brothel. There was an address, but no phone number.
There was also a little note, printed in a shiny foil.
V.I.P.
This was what she needed. Now, she just had to pass the test.

Nadia’s not happy
.
It had been a few days since she’d gone into his room; since he’d made his confession, and she’d made her promise. She’d stay forever, she said. He didn’t believe her, but some absurd part of him really wanted to.
He hadn’t left the house since. They’d spent a lot of time together, having sex obviously, but also talking—probably due to sheer exhaustion. Now that he’d opened up a bit, he felt almost helpless to stop himself from sharing more and more, about his past, his dreams, his disappointments. She’d listened carefully, without judgment. She hadn’t given advice or any comment beyond support. She’d held him, somehow making the more painful memories ease. And she’d done the same. He now knew that her mother had died in an accident on a train track, and some people had speculated that it had been suicide. Her father had kept them together however he could, but staying on the straight and narrow never worked for him. She’d been desperately poor, hungry, and determined to survive.
He knew she was beautiful. Now, he thought she was unbelievable.
When they didn’t talk, they ate, comparing their favorite foods and experimenting with new ones. He’d watched movies with her. Apparently, she hadn’t watched a lot of cartoons, and he couldn’t remember feeling as happy as he did hearing her laugh.
It felt dangerously like a relationship. He tried to return to sex whenever he could, to feel a bit calmer about the whole thing. Even that had changed, though. The dynamic had shifted. She slept in his bed now. She gave Max his nighttime treat, for Christ’s sake.
He was in trouble.
She walked in front of him, nude except for a coquettish set of cherry-red heels that she knew he liked. Her hips swayed lyrically, and her hazel eyes heated him all the way through his core.
“Nadia,” he growled.
She walked to him eagerly, reaching for him, unzipping his pants as he sat in the leather chair by the fireplace. It was one of his favorite places to take her, and she knew it. She spread the fly open, reaching in, freeing him from his boxers. His cock sprang out, tearing itself from its confinement. She stroked him, still with that knowing smile.
God, how I want this woman
.
He tugged at her hips, and she parted her legs willingly, straddling him, impaling herself on his cock. She moaned softly as his cock pierced her, the thick head nuzzling her curls before parting her already damp folds. She was wet for him. Could you fake that kind of thing? No. She was
drenched
for him.
It still baffled him, humbled him. Made him want her all the more.
Her knees braced on either side of his thighs, she slowly raised herself up and down, the friction of her pussy massaging his penis making him shudder with longing.
“Dominic,” she breathed, arching her back slightly. Her breasts pressed forward, rosy nipples offering themselves like Christmas presents. He didn’t deny their appeal, instead leaning forward, sucking hard on first one, then the other. She gasped, slamming hard against him, ramming his cock upward inside her. Her body squeezed against him tightly.
“You feel so damned good,” he growled against her hot skin, nuzzling her with the rough day’s growth of beard along his jaw line. She pressed his face against her breasts, holding him tight as she wriggled her hips in that slow circular motion that made him crazy. He held her hips firmly against him, his cock tracing inside her in the way he knew she loved. As she always did, she started to rock against him, her breathing going slightly faster.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to scoot out a bit, toward the edge of the chair. To his surprise, she moved his head back, forcing him to look at her. He winced, not wanting to see her looking at his face, but all he saw was the tenderness inherent in her gaze. Then she closed those doe-like eyes of hers, and her lips found his, unerringly. Her kiss was sweet, soft, hot. He started with surprise when her tongue traced his lips. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth, letting her tongue explore. The soft seeking motion was intoxicating, and soon his tongue was tangled with hers, stroking…tasting.
The feel of his tongue in her mouth as his cock was buried in her pussy was unbelievable. They writhed together, bound together, opening by opening. A light sheen of sweat covered her. He wanted to feel her, all of her. He broke away only for a moment to tear off his shirt, then he clenched her against him, her slick skin sliding against his as he pressed closer, closer.
She was starting to move more rapidly, less gracefully, the heat between them unbelievable. His hips flexed beneath her, his whole body taut with exertion as he surged inside of her.
“Ah…ah…oh, God, yes…” she murmured, adding things in Russian he didn’t understand, but obviously were a product of the moment. Hearing her voice, rough with passion, the way her breathing was so ragged, sending a wave of heat through him. She was close. He held her tight, angling his cock, searching for her button.
She screamed, and he felt her pussy convulse around him as waves of wetness washed over his cock, his thighs. He smiled, holding on tight to what tenuous control he had over his own response.
When her breathing slowed, she kissed him again, languorous and tender. “Did you?”
He shook his head, and she smiled with delight. “How do you…”
He stood up, carrying her with him. He kicked off his pants, then stretched her out on the plush oriental carpet. She reached for him as he covered her with his body. He angled her legs up against his chest, allowing him to penetrate her that much more deeply.
Her breathing went shallow. He went slowly, carefully…withdrawing almost entirely, then slowly pressing in with his full length. Her ankles rested lightly on his chest. He saw her clit, resting there over the space where his shaft disappeared inside her. Slowly, deliberately, he stroked her with hard pressure from his thumb. After a few minutes, he saw her nipples go hard again, a slight flush on her skin. She was clawing at the rug, biting her lip, her hips swaying as he continued his relentless invasion.
He waited until she was moaning again before allowing himself to consider giving in to his own need. His tempo picked up, incrementally, his jutting thrusts moving in time with the pressure of his thumb.
She reached up, caressing her own breasts, kneading them as he watched. Heat boiled through him, lust spearing him like a lance. “Dom-Dominic,” she stammered. “Dominic, I’m going to…again…”
He knew what she meant, and his cock throbbed painfully as it realized release might be near. He closed his eyes, plunging inside her, losing control. He felt the tremors of her orgasm, shuddering against him, and it was more than he could handle. He yelled in triumph as his own orgasm roared through him, almost painful in its intensity. She cried out in response, and he felt her clutch around his engorged pole, milking his climax, drawing it out.
When it was over, he collapsed momentarily against her before rolling, taking her with him, resting her against his heaving chest. He was still buried inside her, still feeling that delicious, unpredicted sense of closeness.
I love this woman
.
He kissed the top of her head. “What shall we do today?” he rumbled, feeling at peace with the world. “Besides more of this, at any rate.”
She smiled, but somehow, the smile didn’t completely reach her eyes.
“What?” he finally asked, stroking her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed, and he braced himself.
“I…miss my family.”
His frown was fierce.
Why?
was his first thought. After all, her father was a two-bit loser who saw his daughters as a form of income. For God’s sake, they’d abandoned her, left her to the mercy of…
His frown deepened. Well, they’d left her with
him
. Which spoke pretty damned poorly of their judgment.
She read his face, and shook her head. “I know,” she murmured.
Abruptly, he felt a wave of remorse. She’d listened to his past without judging. And she, for whatever reason, seemed to care about him. He probably shouldn’t throw stones.
God, he wanted to see her happy.
As she eased herself off of his lap, he cleared his throat. “Maybe you could call them.”
He blinked. Good grief, had he just suggested that?
She perked up, and he cursed himself silently. “Call?”
“You know. Check in. Let them know you’re all right.”
Let them know you’re staying with me for the rest of your life, so they can just find a meal ticket elsewhere. And about time, too
.
She brightened like the sun. He felt like an asshole for not suggesting it earlier. He offered her his phone. She pressed a quick, fervent kiss on his lips, and he suddenly felt like a king. She crossed the room, but didn’t leave it. As he got himself pulled together, he heard the conversation. He probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, he realized—but it wasn’t going to keep him up nights. He wasn’t a fucking saint.
“Jelena!” she cried out happily. Her sister. She’d gotten through. “No, no, I’m fine, I’m all right.”
His lips quirked at that one.
More than all right
, he thought, zipping his pants.
“Well…no. I’m still at Dominic Luder’s house.” There was a long pause, and she shot him a cautious look. Her voice lowered. “Jelena, it’s not like that. He hasn’t hurt me.”
Ouch.
Nadia’s beautiful features frowned. “I would not say forced,” she said awkwardly, shooting another look at him.
The sister was asking about sex. Asking if he’d raped her. He rubbed his hands over his face.
Why did I think this was a good idea, again?
“He gave me his cell phone, Jelena,” Nadia said, with obvious irritation. “No, I’m not a prisoner…”
Abruptly, she shifted to rapid, fluid Russian. He couldn’t figure out exactly what she was saying, but he could see her happiness disappear, replaced with a tension that tightened her shoulders, making her hunch with displeasure. Finally, Nadia barked out something to stop her sister’s quick, sharp-toned remarks. She sighed.
“I love you, my sister,” she said. “I will see you when I can.”
With that, she hung up, handing the phone back to him. Her eyes looked more haunted.
“That went well,” he said sarcastically. “What’s her problem?”
“Just a family thing.” Her words were taut as piano wire. “At least the baby seems to be doing okay.”
“Your stepmother’s baby?” he asked. “Your…what, half brother, right?”
She nodded. Then she paused, and he knew, just
knew
, that something was coming.
“She’s having a C-section on the twenty-eighth,” Nadia said softly. “I’d like to go. To see it.”
At first, his brain didn’t process the request. Then, anger and fear pummeled him, a one-two punch.
She’s asking to leave
.
“So much for forever,” he grunted, starting to turn away.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be gone long…”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He was probably being childish.
You know what? Fuck it. Getting blown up by the woman you thought you loved probably gave you some leeway as far as immaturity
. “You said you didn’t want to leave. Well, I don’t feel like letting you go.”
“They’re my
family
.”
“They haven’t cared about you!” he spat out. “What the hell sort of loyalty do you owe them? I only let you call because I thought it would make you happy, and
now
look at you!”
That seemed to slap at her. She froze. Then, slowly, a tear crawled down her cheek.
“Damn it.” He let out a sharp hiss of breath. “Don’t do that. Don’t blackmail me with tears. It just won’t work.”
He fled, feeling like even more of an ass, but unsure of how to make the transition. He cared about her. She’d go, and once she was outside the little cocoon of intimacy they’d created, things would get messed up—he knew that for a fact. She’d leave, and then things would go to hell in a hurry. Her family would need her. They’d convince her he was a monster. They’d finally and irrefutably prove that her promise was just the result of her captivity, a complete lack of perspective.
He knew this, because it gnawed at him daily.
He shut himself in his room. Yes, it was childish. But right now, it was the best that he had…because the alternative was losing Nadia for good, and he wasn’t strong enough for that.