Chapter 21
21
Rowan
P art of me wanted to do just that, because him leaning in to take my cup put his magnificently bare torso in close proximity and he smelled so good. His gaze was hot and intense, reminding me of all the filthy, dirty things he’d made me do the night before and how I wanted to do them all again.
He’d been right when he’d told me that my desperation for him got him hard, and last night he’d proved it over and over again as he’d made me worship every part of him. I’d loved it. I’d thrown away my caution and my doubts, any reticence I’d had, and dived headfirst into my desire for him. His pleasure at what I did to him made mine sharper and more acute. I couldn’t get enough of him.
But this conversation wasn’t done, no matter what he said, and I wasn’t going to let him distract me with sex. I was curious about him. The little pieces of his past that he’d given me so far had only whetted my appetite and now I was hungry for more.
He seemed very wedded to the idea of being a bad person and while I got his discomfort with his own sexual preferences — I was still coming to terms with the idea that I liked them myself — I didn’t see how that made him like his father. Charlotte had told me back at La Chouette to be careful of him, that he was a predator just like his father, and while it was true that his father did sound like a terrible person, I wasn’t sure that was true of Atlas.
Sure, he’d told me that only what he wanted mattered, yet right from the start he’d been honest about how he’d felt leaving me and Mom behind, and how it had concerned him. He’d also been concerned about me signing Charlotte’s contract. Even when he’d been pushing me, both physically and emotionally, he’d known when to pull back and offer comfort. A man who cared about no one but himself didn’t feel guilt for the way he treated others. A man who cared about no one but himself didn’t bother to give choices to someone else either.
Right from the start of this he’d been up front about what he wanted from me and first he’d tried to frighten me away and then, when that hadn’t worked, he’d made sure I knew that I could walk away from him. He hadn’t pressured me to stay with him or accept his ownership. I’d made that choice myself.
And that wasn’t even counting on all the little things he’d done for me. The wedding gown, the flowers. The rings. The bath. Breakfast in bed.
‘I am careful with my things…’
No, he wasn’t a bad man at all, regardless of the rough, blunt things he said.
I put my hand on his chest, his tawny skin warm and velvety, the muscles beneath it rock hard. His shoulders were wide and his hands on the pillow on either side of me making a delicious cage of his arms. The fierce heat in his eyes made my mouth go dry with want
But I ignored all of that as I stared fiercely back. “I don’t think it’s time to stop asking questions at all. We haven’t finished our conversation.”
His smile was slow and hot, and it almost made me reconsider, that perhaps we could continue the conversation after he’d put me on my back, but I knew myself. After he finished with me, I’d be a wrung out wreck, head empty, no thoughts. We had to discuss things now.
“Yes, we have,” he said, leaning in even more, pressing himself against my palm.
I continued to ignore him. “I want to know more about you.”
“I’ve already told you about me.”
Yes, his awful father and the tragedy of his mother, both of which must have made for a terrible childhood. I wanted to know more about that, but it was obviously a painful subject and one I didn’t feel I had a right to ask about. Still, I wanted to keep the conversation going, so I said, “Okay, fine. So you talked to Mom. What am I going to do about her if I’m living with you?”
“We,” he corrected. “What are ‘we’ going to do about her.”
I flushed. “Sure. ‘We’ then.”
“You leave her to me. I’ll deal with it. Put your hand on my cock.”
“No,” I said. “She’s my mother.”
“And my ex-wife. Do as you’re told.”
“Daughter trumps ex-wife,” I said tartly. “What does ‘deal with it’ mean?”
Atlas stared at me a long moment, that slow burn of a smile still playing around his mouth. “Disobedient, toy. What did I tell you about thinking?”
“Atlas,” I said firmly.
He sighed and the fire in his eyes banked, though the embers still glowed. “‘Deal with it’ means there are options for her. I know of a couple of facilities that are live-in and provide mental health support. I started donating to a few after Mom died.”
My heart tightened. All the time caring for Mom, I’d occasionally look up places where she might go if I needed some respite, that provided specialist care. But they’d always been far beyond my budget and so it touched me that he’d thought of that.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said before I could speak. “Like I said, she was my ex-wife.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m touched.” I lifted my hands and gripped the heavily muscled biceps on either side of me. “You’re surprisingly sensitive for a narcissist.”
“You think I did it for you? Oh no, this is all to get Cait out of my hair so I can concentrate on making you my slave.”
I rubbed a thumb over his hot, smooth skin. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
He leaned in, his mouth brushing over mine. “And this lady is talking too much.”
His lips were warm and soft, and I wanted to kiss him back, harder and hungrier, but I still wasn’t done. “I haven’t finished.”
“Fuck’s sake.” He let out an impatient breath and lifted his mouth. “What?”
“If I’m moving in here, I’ll need to go home to get some work clothes for Monday and?—”
“You’re not going back to work,” he said in a flat tone. “In fact you’re not working for that creepy fuck, Jordan, ever again.”
I blinked in surprise. “What?”
“He’s the one who sent you to Arcadia with that bullshit excuse about a file, right?” Atlas’s features had hardened, the look on his face uncompromising.
“Yes,” I said. “But he was just?—”
“But nothing. You’re not working for him again and that’s the end of it.”
I opened my mouth then shut it again, wondering why I was trying to defend Mr Jordan when Atlas was right, he was creepy and I didn’t like working for him. Still, I didn’t like Atlas’s tone.
“I hope you’re not suggesting that I quit working altogether, Atlas,” I said, equally uncompromising. “Because that’s not happening. I won’t be your literal fuck toy and nothing else, okay?”
The embers in his eyes gleamed. “Is that a protest I hear?”
“Damn right it’s a protest. I’m not a rug you get to walk over.”
“Good. That’ll give me plenty to punish you for later.” Disappointingly, he pushed himself away from me. “What do you want then?” he asked, the question not without a hint of challenge. “What dreams do you have, beauty?”
He wasn’t playing now, it a genuine question and a curious warmth bloomed inside me.
My dreams weren’t things I told other people, mainly because I didn’t have a hope of achieving them. But he’d asked and I wanted him to know that I was more than just a body in his bed.
“I want to go to college, get my MBA,” I said. “Then maybe…I don’t know, get a job somewhere in Europe. Work there for a while, see the world.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “Is that what you wanted Charlotte’s money for? To go to college and to travel?”
“Yes. I wanted to take Mom with me, too.”
He was silent a moment. “Do it,” he said abruptly. “Apply for college. Tell me where you and Cait want to go, and I’ll make it happen.”
A refusal rose to my lips, instant and instinctive, words about how I was going to use my own money, that I didn’t need his. But then I bit down on the urge to say them. The man was a billionaire, he had money to burn, and college tuition and travel would be a drop in the bucket for him. So why shouldn’t I take it? If he wanted to give it to me, then why not?
“What?” he asked when I didn’t answer. “No argument about wanting to use your own money?”
I grinned, unable to help it. “Okay, yes, I thought about it. But then I kind of like the idea of defunding billionaires.”
His easy, slow smile came back, the warmth of it making my heart turn over in my chest. “A small price to pay if it means you get to follow your dreams, beauty. And I won’t hear an argument on that.” He meant that, I could see it in his eyes, just as he meant that he was careful with his things, that he didn’t break them needlessly.
I leaned forward and touched his cheekbone, running my fingertips over his skin and down to his strong jaw, brushing over the prickle of his morning beard. “Thank you. I wish I could give you something in return.”
He gave a soft, devastatingly sexy laugh. “Just sitting here naked in my bed, you’re giving me something, beauty.”
“I would like to do more than just exist,” I said, frowning. Because the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do something for him, make him feel good the way he was making me feel good. Except the only thing I had to offer him was what he had already. Me. “You said you never let yourself have any sexual fantasies until I came along. So, now I’m here, you must have a couple you want to try out.”
His golden gaze searched my face. “I don’t think you could handle them. Not yet anyway.”
“Oh? What are they then?” He was probably right, I probably couldn’t handle them, but I wanted to know what they were anyway.
He shook his head. “One day.”
I moved my fingertips to his beautiful mouth, tracing the full curve of his bottom lip. It felt soft against my fingers, the only part of him that was. “I’m your toy,” I said, deciding to own the nickname. “Your fuck toy and toys don’t handle anything. They’re there to be played with.”
Gold flames flickered in his eyes at the acknowledgment, making my breath catch. Making my skin tight and my sex throb. “You really want to know?” His features hardened subtly. “What I’d like is to call my friend Caleb, who owns Arcadia. Every once in a while they do a sex show and I’d like to perform one with my little fuck toy. I’d like to parade you in front of people, I’d like them to see you, watch you, want you. Only they can’t have you.” He held my gaze, daring me look away. “Because you’re mine and I want them to know that. I’ll claim you in front of them, showing everyone in that room that it’s only me you want and only me who makes you come, no one else.”
Shock rippled through me. I didn’t know what I’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t…that.
My face warmed and despite the fact that the whole thing sounded way too out there for me, my pulse accelerated. “Public sex?” I asked, trying to make it sound as if it was something I did all the time. “Really? Seems a little tame for a man like you, especially when you must have done it before lots of times.”
He didn’t even blink. “I have once or twice. In the context of an orgy.”
“But not a show?”
“No.”
Why not?” I asked, curious now. “I thought you’ve done everything there is to do with sex?”
“I have. But not that.”
I blinked. “What, never? Seriously? You’ve never?—”
“No. I didn’t like how it reminded me of my fucking father and how he couldn’t stand not being the center of attention. How he liked to flaunt his power over people, how he could make them do whatever he wanted.” Atlas’s gaze was searing. “But I’m done with fighting what I want now. That’s my fantasy, beauty. I want everyone to see you being desperate for me, craving me, pleading for me. I know you don’t like that part of yourself, that it makes you feel vulnerable, but that’s what I want. Them watching you break and knowing that only I get the privilege of giving you what you need.”
That was a very discomforting thought. To have people watch me not only having sex, but be at my most vulnerable… Ugh.
“I know it’s basically the opposite of what you want,” Atlas said, reading my discomfort loud and clear. “And that it’s a big demand on your trust.”
I wanted to deny it, to tell him that I was fine with it, but…
Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready.
Yet deep inside, the contrary part of me didn’t want to give in. It was clear he didn’t think I’d do it and so of course now I wanted to show him that he was wrong, that I could do it no matter what he thought.
I swallowed and pushed away the fear, and said, “You could order me to do that and I’d have to do it, wouldn’t I?”
“I could,” he agreed. “But ordering you to do it would make the whole thing pointless. My fantasy consists of you doing it willingly, despite your fear. Of you trusting me enough to give me what I want, even though it’s my fantasy, not yours.”
My heartbeat sounded loud in my ears. “You don’t know what my fantasies are,” I said, unable to disguise the edge in my voice. And of course he picked up on it.
The gold in his eyes glinted. “Neither do you.”
“You’re wrong,” I said before I could stop myself.
He lifted one tawny brow. “Am I? What are you fantasies then, beauty?”
Your fantasies are whatever he wants and you know it.
I didn’t want to break his gaze. What I wanted to surprise him, unsettle him, maybe even shock him. I’d been able to do that sexually before, so maybe I could again. And maybe in giving him this fantasy he didn’t think I was capable of, I’d be able to do just that.
“Maybe my fantasy is exhibitionism too,” I said, my voice only slightly unsteady. “I’ve never done it before after all. It might be just my kink.”
He studied me for a moment then, when he spoke, his voice was hard. “Don’t play with me, Rowan. This isn’t a game.”
“I know it’s not a game. But it’s true. I’ve never done it before so maybe I’d like it.”
“Really?” His gaze bored into mine. “You really want to get naked in front of a group of people, have me break you down until you’re screaming for me the way you did last night, and then have them watch me fuck you? You really want that?”
“Why not?” I took an unsteady breath. “No one’s ever given you that before, so why not me?”
“Because you don’t want it,” he said as if he knew the inside of my head better than I did. “Because you’re afraid of it.”
“You don’t know me, Atlas Blackwood. You don’t know what I think.”
“So that wasn’t fear in your eyes I saw just now?”
Damn him. He could read me like a book and why didn’t I remember that? I gritted my teeth and lifted my chin. “No, it was. But you can be afraid of something yet want it too. I mean, I’m afraid of you, for example. Of what you can make me want, of what you can make me do. Of how you can break me down and how you can own me. So yes, I’m afraid of what I want. But my fantasy, Atlas, is you. That’s it. That’s all. Whatever you want, I want too.”
His gaze flared and then narrowed, the intensity of it stealing my breath. “Be very careful what you say, beauty. Be very, very careful. Because I warned you what would happen if you allow me even a bit of that inch.”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“There’s not a bit of you I won’t take, Rowan. Not a piece of you I won’t demand. Everything you are I will own.”
“I know that.” I held his gaze and steadily this time. “So what are you waiting for? Take it.”
Atlas shifted, so fast I didn’t even have time to gasp before he’d ripped the sheet away, gripped my wrists and forced them down onto the pillows on either side of my head. Then he was on top of me, his hips forcing my legs wide apart. He didn’t spare me his weight, crushing me into the mattress as the zipper of his jeans ground against my sensitive clit.
He bent his head, his mouth on mine in a rough, devouring kiss, leaving me no option but to open up to him and to take what gave me. His tongue explored me as his hips ground against my clit, the grip of his fingers around my wrists and the weight of him adding a delicious feeling of constriction.
I could hardly breathe, definitely couldn’t move, every part of me feeling as if I was being invaded by him. Conquered in a very real and disturbingly erotic sense. Take it, I’d challenged him and he was definitely taking it. He was taking me.
His mouth shifted, his teeth against the delicate cords of my neck as he nipped and bit, then sucked hard. The movement of his hips was making me shift restlessly beneath him as hot, bright strikes of pleasure arced through me.
He moved again, releasing one of my wrists a moment to jerk down his zipper and free his cock, then he was between my legs again, the hot blunt head of his dick pushing into me. I was already wet and he slid in easily, making us both groan. My sex was stretched around him, my thighs spread wide, every part of me wide and open to him.
He paused, deep inside me, sliding his hands beneath my knees and drawing my legs around his waist. Then he reared up, shifting yet again, hooking my knees over his shoulders, my hips almost off the bed as he pushed deeper and deeper.
A wail escaped me, the feeling of invasion almost overwhelming. He was everywhere, around me, inside of me, as if there wasn’t enough room for both myself and him.
“This is what I mean,” he hissed through his teeth as he wound powerful arms around my thighs, keeping my hips high and his dick firmly planted. “By taking everything.” He thrust, deep and hard, I groaned aloud. “Every part of you, toy, is mine.” He withdrew then thrust again, golden eyes burning into mine. “Who is your master, toy?” Another deep thrust. “Who owns you?”
I twisted in his grip, an orgasm building and building relentlessly inside me. “Y-You,” I stuttered.
“Say my name.”
“You…oh…god….A-Atlas.”
“That’s right,” he said roughly. “I do.”
Then he shifted his hand, one finger pressing down on my clit and I came, screaming his name.