Chapter Twenty-Five
Adam
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“HERE YOU ARE, SIR.” Caroline emerged from the bathroom in only a bathrobe, carrying a pristine-looking white shirt on a hanger. “I managed to get this ironed for you.”
I watched her sashay across the suite, her hips dancing seductively as she held the shirt aloft for me to see.
“You should be ironing it yourself, little girl.” I attempted a growl, but it was difficult to be genuinely intimidating when every flex of my back and shoulder muscles reminded me of how fragile my body was.
It had been two weeks since Laurent and his countrymen had swooped in to save me from Ian’s malice.
Two weeks where everything from finding a comfortable position in bed to laughing at my little girl’s attempts at nursing me had triggered pain from the healing wounds, and two weeks where I’d, yet again, found a new respect for the women who’d endured such dreadful punishments on a daily basis.
It had only been months since I had presided over those acts at Fortorus, but sitting in the hotel, I hardly recognized the man I used to be.
So much had changed since then. My situation, my location, my reasons for being, but more importantly, my morality.
Smiling at my little girl, I acknowledged the monster I’d become under Ian’s regime, and also the woman who had lured me back to the light.
“Yes, well...” She shrugged, her grin playful. “That’s one of the advantages of still being in the hotel. We don’t have to do everything ourselves yet.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to iron for me?”
I shifted on the chair, trying not to flinch at the pain that streaked along my upper back.
I hadn’t expected the injuries the whip had caused to still be so sensitive, but, as I’d discovered, the problem with being whipped between the shoulders was that so much everyday activity relied upon the muscles working beneath that skin.
At times, it had seemed as though everything I did only agitated the wounds and slowed down their ability to heal.
“I’m not saying that.” She pouted, hanging the shirt above the free-standing wardrobe before walking my way. “I’m just saying there are better ways I can serve you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I liked the way she was thinking.
The stress and discomfort of the last couple of weeks had meant there hadn’t been as much carnality as we’d have liked, but I was still a red-blooded man, and she was still the temptress who’d lured me to salvation.
“What did you have in mind, little girl?”
“Well.” She fell to her knees on the carpet by my feet, and I noticed the way she loosened the belt around her waist. “Maybe when you’re feeling up to a long, hot shower, Sir, I can finally make sure all of you is clean again.”
My lips tugged at her suggestive tone. “All of me?”
“Yes, Sir.” She reached for my knee and trailed a fingertip along the seam of my trousers.
“Well...” I watched her digit edge an invisible line along my inner thigh, the gentle pressure goading my recently overlooked cock. “Good thinking, little girl. That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ve missed you, Sir.” Her finger paused, her gaze flitting to meet mine. “I know you’ve been recovering, and there’s all the fallout from Jackson’s arrest, but I’ve missed being able to hold you.”
“Hey.” I reached for her, sliding my fingers into her hair and steadying her face. “You can always hold me. We’ve just had to be a little careful thanks to Ian’s whip.”
“I know.” She leaned into my palm, her eyes falling closed. “And while I hate how hurt you are, I’m so thankful you came back to me.”
“I was always going to come back to you.” I laughed gently. “Laurent and his pals had assured us of that.”
“I still worried, though.” Her gaze was back on me again. “Watching you taking the whip that way was horrible.”
“It wasn’t so great for me either.” I chuckled, trying not to recollect how excruciating each strike of the implement had been. “It was you who got me through it, though.”
“What?” A crease appeared in her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Each time he whipped me.” I stroked her cheek with my thumb. “It was you I thought about. I got through it thanks to you, little girl.”
“Oh, Adam.” Wriggling free from my fingers, she turned to kiss my palm. “You did so well. I know how awful those whips can be.”
“It’s over now.” I released the air in my lungs, wishing I could relax on my chair without irritating my back. “And the good news is that today we get to see Ian in his new habitat.”
“In court.”
Her smile stretched wider at the prospect of seeing the man who’d instigated the downfall of her entire life finally being held to account for some of his decisions.
“That’s right.” Akari and the others had called him for a pretrial meeting, and Caroline and I had been invited to witness the proceedings.
“I’m nervous about giving my victim statement,” she admitted, her smile fading. “But I hope it’ll be worth it.”
“It will be.” I had no doubts about her ability to look Ian in the eyes and tell him how she felt about him. “This is a chance for you, and all the other women, to make him hear you and finally get a little taste of justice.”
Given everything the new order had stripped from them, seeing Ian squirm in the dock wasn’t much, but it was the first step toward him being forced to accept responsibility.
If I knew Ian at all, he’d kick and scream and resist accountability at all costs, but compelling him to be there, and knowing he was returning to some type of incarceration, was something.
It also helped that he’d been snatched from his privileged life at home, taken from the pomp and ceremony and made to live like any other prisoner.
No doubt Lucy, the woman he’d made his wife, would be thanking me for her acquittal. Life with Ian must have been hell.
“And it’s all thanks to you, Sir.” Her digits paused inches from my groin. “I think I can speak for most of the other women when I say how grateful we are.”
“I’m not sure many of them would be so thankful.” My gaze lowered to watch her fingertips circling the seam. “But thank you. It was the least I could do.”
And it wasn’t much.
All I’d given was a few hours and a little blood. In reality, my pride had taken more of a beating than my back. I had known the French were coming to save me. I was far from a hero.
“You were outstanding, Sir,” she purred, edging between my knees. “Even though I was concerned, I was also so very proud of you.”
“How proud?”
I arched an eyebrow at her, suddenly less conscious of the ache between my shoulder blades and more interested in where the exchange was going.
Not so long ago, of course, she’d have fallen to her knees and worshipped me on command, but our love had bloomed since then.
It had evolved. Kneeling in the hotel, she was making bedroom eyes at me, not because her life depended on it, but because she actually wanted me.
Her love wasn’t inspired by fear or coercion, but by the greatest muse of all; freedom.
“Very, very proud, Sir.”
Her fingertips skimmed north, finding my swelling need and stroking me through the fabric of the fancy trousers the hotel had acquired for me. I groaned at the sensation, knowing I yearned for her mouth even more than I desired to see Ian behind bars.
“Let me show you how much.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, gazing up at me from under those long, dark lashes. “Let me remind you how much I love you.”
“Oh, God.”
My head lolled back against the stack of cushions I was propped up on. I knew if I relaxed onto them properly, my injured back would scream at me for relief, but given the current heady provocation, I was considering giving in regardless.
“Sir?” Her hand continued to rub over my growing erection, her constant pace and stimulation making it difficult for me to think clearly. “May I please make you come?”
“Fuck, little girl.”
Staring at her, I was struck by how far we had come in such a short space of time, and it wasn’t only the fact we’d left Fortorus that dominated those changes.
I was the one she’d chosen to submit to, but even though I was sitting while she knelt, it was patently clear which of us held the power. Whatever authority I’d held over her had evaporated somewhere on the English Channel, empowering the delicious woman on her knees to become more than my equal.
She had supremacy in that suite, and locking gazes with her, I suspected we both knew it. She could have done anything, could have asked for anything, and there was nothing I wouldn’t have assented to.
“You know I can’t say no to you.” I considered kissing her, but I didn’t want to do anything that risked altering the rhythm of her right hand.
“Then say yes, Sir.” Her brow rose, daring me to defy her, and God help me, there was no way I was going to.
“Yes.” My reply was guttural and filled with unspent craving.
Bracing myself for the pain of the contact behind me, I leaned back and unbuckled my belt. My brain registered the hurt, but pushing the leather aside, I ignored the pain and started to work on my zipper.
“Allow me.” Her free hand caught mine, halting its progress and edging the zip down. “You relax, Sir.”
“I want that robe off,” I told her, desperately clinging to the fallacy that I was still the one in control.
“Of course,” she replied sweetly, pausing the sublime cadence of her hand to shrug the fabric from her slim shoulders. “Is that better?”
It will be as soon as you start doing that again.
My hips jerked forward, urging her delicate fingers to restart their act of devotion, and reading my no doubt frantic expression, she shifted back into position and complied. Stimulating the outline of my cock, she ran the fingertips of her free hand under the waistband of my underwear, teasing me.
“I’d like to roll these down, please.” She leaned forward, kissing my abdominals while she waited for my approval.
“Do it,” I snarled, scarcely recognizing the sound of my desperation.
Who the frantic man with the whipped skin was, I couldn’t say.
He wasn’t any version of Adam Harper I recognized, yet watching while she rolled my boxer shorts south and released my cock, I realized what should have been obvious.
My journey to that point didn’t matter. I was truly happy for the first time in my life, exulting in the attention of the woman I loved, and when she ran her tongue over the base of my dick, I was weak at the sight of her.
“Fuck, Caroline.” My breathing sped up at the sweet torment. “Do it, little girl. Suck me.”
“With pleasure, Sir.”
Her breath was warm against my sensitive skin, the heat of her mouth all-encompassing as she took me in her mouth and slid her way down to my balls.
Reaching for her hair, I let out a throaty moan the moment my crown grazed the back of her throat.
She felt so good, and she was so hot and welcoming, all I could think about was how I wanted the intimacy to never end.
Even though I knew we were due at The Hague in a couple of hours and I was sure leaning against the cushions would be doing nothing for my back, I no longer heeded those logical calls.
The moment was all about Caroline and her astonishing act of devotion.
She mewled as she swallowed me, and I rolled my hips to meet her advances, reveling in the steeping intensity.
All concept of time collapsed around me as her ministrations continued, my eyes closing and my fingers tightening in her hair.
All that mattered was the knowledge that she had the skill and command to bring me to climax, and gasping at the growing urgency, that seemed to be all the power in the world.
When the first waves of release smashed over me and I fought for breath, I was aware of nothing but the gentle rhythm of her hand at the base of my cock and the way her tongue lapped at everything I had for her.
I had no clue how long I was sprawled there for, hostage to the dying embers of my passion, but at some point, my eyes must have opened, and I witnessed her rise between my legs, flicking her tongue over her lips as she met my gaze.
“Is that better, Sir?” She smirked at me.
“So much fucking better.” I leaned forward, dismissing the strain in my shoulders as my lips brushed over hers. “Thank you, little girl.”