Chapter 30
thirty
DARE
Rose is gone when I make it back to the table, but Remy is still sitting right where I left him. The dance floor is full, the music loud enough to reverberate off my skin. Those who aren’t dancing are clustered around tables, enjoying their carefree existence.
I let my gaze roam over the crowd, searching for my wife, but Rose is nowhere to be found. A woman dressed in all black materializes.
Why do I recognize her?
“That’s Iris Avery,” Remy supplies.
Iris is the daughter of a man who owns an up-and-coming entertainment company that has the Rollins family rumbling in annoyance, but that’s all the thoughts I have to spare for the entertainment scene. I clench my jaw as I sit. “Rose. Where did she go?”
“Bathroom,” Remy says, leaning back and resting one arm on his chair in a seemingly casual move. Except, I recognize the readiness of his form .
Placing Rose’s wine on the table, I take a long sip of my martini, savoring the saltiness and mulling over the sudden rush of irritation. I asked Remy to watch her. He’s always protected me and mine. “And why didn’t you go with her?”
Remy pulls his gaze from the dance floor. “She told me not to.”
Annoyance kindles in my gut. “I don’t care. I thought I asked you to look out for her.”
“I’m here for you, Dare, not some rich brat,” he growls and then clamps his mouth shut.
Though Remy and I are best friends, he generally hates the rich, even though he has just as much money as I do. The difference is, Remy’s was earned in blood, not inheritance. I can’t say I blame him for hating those with generational wealth. We’re all a bunch of assholes. Regardless of his feelings, he should’ve taken care of Rose. I trusted him with her.
“What did you say to her?” I ask.
“I didn’t say shit.”
I scoff. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you two talking before the bartender came to take my order. I turned around, she was gone. What did you say?”
“The truth,” he says with a shrug. “I told her if she betrayed you, I’d kill her myself.”
Protectiveness barrels into me. “You threatened Rose?” My voice is quiet, but that doesn’t mean it’s soft.
Remy rears back. “You can’t trust her, Dare.”
“And since when do you get to decide that?”
He scowls at me. “Since you’ve been thinking with your dick. That bitch is?—”
“My. Wife.” I slap my hand on the table, and a few people nearby jump. One vicious glance in their direction has them looking away. Fucking parties .
“Look at you,” Remy murmurs. “She’s in your head.”
“She’s not,” I lie, searching the room again. My gaze snags on Rose, standing across the room, staring straight at me. Her head is slightly tilted as she studies me and Remy, her long, curled brunette hair spilling over one shoulder. How long has she been there? She’s too far away to have heard anything, but there’s no shielding her from the angry lines on my face.
In my peripheral vision, Remy turns and sighs. “You need to be careful.”
“Remy, don’t make me regret trusting you,” I grind out, trying to keep my cool, because Remy is important to me. Rose’s eyebrows pinch together, but then a man grabs her hand and drags her toward the dance floor. She stumbles in her heels and subtly tries to yank out of his grasp.
If I thought I knew rage before, I was wrong. My vision tunnels, and I’m up and out of my chair in an instant, storming toward the man who dared to put his hands on Rose. When Remy follows me, I shoot him a venomous look, but he stubbornly tilts his chin. Sometimes I hate that he’s not afraid of me.
Focusing on Rose and the way her face is scrunched and how she leans away from the guy who’s groping her ass, I let the full breadth of my darkness take hold. I’m going to break both of his hands and then possibly his cock.
Rose’s frantic gaze searches the crowd, but everyone is too wrapped up or drunk to notice. Her eyes find mine, and the relief that floods over her is instant. A deeper sense of possessiveness fuels my steps. My wife needs me.
Remy pulls up beside me.
“I want to deal with him later.”
Remy eyes me. “Dare.”
I don’t miss the warning. It’s reckless to hurt a civilian, but I don’t give a fuck. “Remy. Take him to the factory.” A heavy breath is all I get in response.
The guy squeezes one of her tits, and Rose struggles in his hold again, shoving at his chest, but he’s stronger than she is.
Mother. Fucker.
Remy reaches the guy first, dragging him away from Rose and out of the crowd. There are a few murmurs of discontent, but I ignore them all, stopping before the bane of my existence. That’s not so true anymore, though.
Those hazel eyes drill into me, a thousand questions, a hundred reasons why this is wrong. A dozen warning bells telling me Remy was right. But one thought is louder than all the rest—no one touches her but me. Rose is wholly mine. Body, soul, anger, happiness, her heart. They’re all mine. I let her see exactly how much I want her. I take down every wall, unleash every wicked desire, every violent urge, and show her every part of the man she calls beast.
The crowd is quick to forget the drama, already swaying and moving to the steady beat of the music twining around us. The thumping bass thrums along my skin. Rose and I are still suspended in the moments between how it is and how it should be. The weight of the choice hanging in the air bears down on me. She takes a breath, chest rising as she holds my gaze. Unflinching. Unyielding. Strong. Defiant.
Mine.
I hold up my hand, much like I did the day in her dad’s office, only this time, it’s more than me saving her from her dad; it’s me making a real vow. I don’t hate Rose anymore. Truth be told, I haven’t for weeks, and now she’s finally realizing that I’m not her enemy. Rose looks at my hand, then slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine. I arch one eyebrow, daring her like I have so many times before.
But tonight, the heaviness of our future weighs on her decision.
If she joins me, we face the world as one.
If she rejects me, well, I don’t want to think about that.
Before she can hide it, I see the twitch of her lips, the softening of features, the submission, then her palm slips over mine. Pride beats at my chest, heat floods through my veins, and the beast inside me roars in triumph.
I lock my fingers with hers and drag her toward me. “That’s my good wife.” I seal my lips over hers and steal her gasp of surprise. Placing my free hand on her lower back, I press her body against mine, and she instantly softens. A relenting that hardens my cock and makes me want to rip her skintight dress right off her body.
“Dare,” she murmurs into my mouth.
My fingers flex on her back.
Someone bumps into me, jostling us and breaking whatever spell had weaved around us. The rest of the world roars to life. There’s a mumbled apology. Someone whoops nearby as the song switches. The music is so loud. There are too many people on the dance floor. There’s too much noise.
Breaking the kiss, I rest my forehead on hers. “I hate this party,” I admit.
“Thank god,” she murmurs, stealing a quick kiss. “Take me home.”
As soon as we’re through the front door, Rose flings herself at me. I catch her lips, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her back just as fiercely. My hand drifts between our bodies. That fucking dress is in the way. Backing her toward the foyer table, I thread my hands into her hair and tilt her head until I can savor every inch of her mouth.
Nothing has ever tasted sweeter than Rose relinquishing control, leaving me in charge of her fate.
Her ass hits the edge of the table. I break the kiss and drop to my knees to grab the switchblade that’s sheathed on the back leg of the table.
“Really?” Rose asks with an amused shake of her head.
I glance up at her and flick it open. There are weapons hidden all over the house in case I need them. “Really.” Grabbing the bottom of her dress, I stab the blade into the material and smirk at the sound of her sucking in a quick breath. “I’ll buy you another.”
The material relents to the knife as I drag it up between her thick thighs. Once I reach her apex, I toss it aside and wrap my hands around both flaps of material, looking up at Rose again. Cheeks flushed, she abuses the soft flesh of her bottom lip, tucking it beneath her teeth as she stares down at me. I narrow my eyes and she narrows hers right back.
I smirk and rip the dress, standing as the material pulls apart across her soft stomach and full breasts. The delicate, pale pink thong and matching bralette make my cock pulse. So delicate. A reminder that, if I’m not careful, I might break her.
Rose notices my slight hesitation and reaches around to unclasp her bra. “You’re thinking too loud.” She uses my words against me. The cups of her bra fall away, revealing pebbled, pale pink nipples. She hooks her fingers into the band of her thong.
“Rose,” I purr as she slides the thong down her thighs and takes them off .
She straightens and meets my gaze with fire in her own.
I stand back and admire her. “Beautiful.”
A flush runs up her body. “Dare.”
My name is a mere whisper on her lips, but it’s the want, the need in the way she says it that grips me. I’ve never let myself this close to someone. I never had the luxury of knowing what it was like to have a woman want me beyond one night. Beyond the riches and power and meaningless sex.
Rose is the first, but what about her?
Has she ever felt this way about someone else?
Irrational jealousy slithers through me, and I know if I ever come across someone she’s shared this with, I’ll kill them for having her, for taking pieces of what belongs to me.
Sitting atop the entryway table, Rose cups her breast and tweaks her nipple. My pretty little prize. “Are you going to fuck me?” she asks.
Not even close. I’m going to make sure she can’t even remember what’s come before me. I’m going to take everything she has to give and then demand more. I’m going to consume her until there’s nothing left.
But I don’t say any of that. I stalk toward her, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. I had always assumed that reaction was fear. Now that I know her better, I see the excitement shimmering in her hazel irises. See the way she licks her lips in anticipation.
“You’re fucked now, princess,” I murmur, dropping to my knees in front of her and hooking her legs over my shoulder. She squeaks as she tips over, but she catches herself right as I lick her from center to clit, parting her soft skin with my tongue .
Her heady moan fills the foyer.
And I feast on my wife, sucking, lapping, tasting until her thighs squeeze my head and her essence drips from my chin. I reach between our bodies and pinch her nipples. Her walls flutter and clamp around me as I ease two fingers inside of her. She writhes. Her legs tremble. Her heels dig into my back, and her fingers thread into my hair, tugging.
“Please, please, please,” she begs, bucking into my face and lashing tongue.
Adding another digit, I stretch and thrust into her as I circle her clit, unrelenting as an unsteady rhythm of gasps and moans floats through the air. My lips seal around the sensitive nerves, and I suck, stroking her G-spot at the same time. And then my wife screams and squeezes me tighter with those thick thighs.
I hum against her, drawing out her orgasm until she’s nothing but a whimpering mess of cum and sweat. Her back collapses onto the table and her legs fall open.
“I’m not even close to done with you,” I murmur, kissing my way up her stomach, sucking her left nipple into my mouth and easing my fingers out of her.
She groans in protest.
I move to her other breast. “So needy.”
“More,” she rasps, holding the back of my head as I tease my tongue over her pebbled peak.
“Say please.”
“Fuck you,” she growls.
A laugh bursts out of me, surprising us both. My gaze flies up to meet hers, and she lifts her head, gazing down at me with a lazy grin on her face. I memorize the moment, then seal my lips around her tit and suck. Her mouth dropping open, she wraps her legs around me, smashing her hips against my torso, but my suit keeps me from feeling how wet she is.
I break away from her and rip my clothes off. Rose props herself up on her elbows and watches, admiration shining in her gaze as it drifts over my abs and down to my cock. Fisting it, I pump once and groan. “This is what you do to me.”
“That’s my cock.”
Prowling toward her, I push her legs apart and jerk her down until her ass is suspended in the air. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know, husband .”
“That mouth,” I say, shaking my head and glancing down as I position myself at her center. “One day, I’m going to fuck it, but tonight, this pussy is mine.” I thrust in so hard, she scoots up the table and the wooden legs screech across the foyer floor. I moan as she pulses around me. Rose’s walls are rippled and silky, perfectly molded to fit me. Pulling back, almost all the way out, I meet her gaze. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes. Not a single protest.
Damn fucking right. I slam into her again, grinding my jaw as she tightens around me. Rose feels like home. She’s addicting. A hit of ecstasy and I want more. She’s going to be the death of me.
Back arching, hands grasping the edges, Rose clings to the table as I pound into her, fucking her so deep and hard, she’ll remember me for days to come.
But that’s not enough.
I want her to think about me every time she walks.
Sheathing myself fully inside her, I reach down and slip my hands around her back, helping her sit. As her legs instinctively wrap around me, I pick her up, holding her ass and letting gravity force her deeper onto my shaft. Soft fingers glide over my cheek and tip my face, then plush lips crash into mine, desperate and hungry.
I nip at her tongue and take control as I walk us to the front door, pinning her against it and deepening the kiss as my hand finds its way around her throat. She sighs as I stroke the column of her neck. She writhes against me, rocking her hips in little circles, needy and desperate. Just the way I like her.
Grinding against her, I let her have a moment of reprieve and savor how perfectly our bodies fit, and then I start to pump my hips, slowly at first, pulsing my fingers against her throat in time until I’m going too fast to keep up. I tug her bottom lip between my teeth as I break the kiss, delighting in her soft whimper of protest.
“Take a breath,” I tell her, loosening the grip on her throat. She does as I ask, one hand coming to clutch my forearm. “Good. I’m going to apply pressure, you dig your nails into my skin if it’s too much.”
She gasps as my cock hits the soft spot deep inside of her.
“Rose,” I rasp. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” she says, voice breathy.
“What do you do if it’s too much?”
“Dig my nails in.”
“Good.” And I flex each finger around her throat until her eyes widen. “Who do you belong to?” I ask, mostly to ensure she’s okay with the mild pressure.
“You,” she says. “More.”
The edges of my lips quirk. “Anything for you, princess.” My hips slam into her as I choke her harder. Her grip on my forearm is steady. I flex a little more. Her walls tighten in response and I almost come. “Fuuuuuck.”
Keeping my eyes on hers, checking for any sign of it being too much, I thrust into Rose again and again, watching as her lips part. Her gaze is trained on my face, and I’m not sure I’m worthy of the trust she’s giving me, but as her chest rises, as she starts to struggle to get enough air, bit by bit, as her cunt chokes my dick just as tight, I take everything she’s giving.
“That’s my pretty wife,” I say around my pants. “Look at you taking me so well.” My length pulses inside of her, but I fight for my life. I’m not done yet. Rose is close. Her body is so tense, so tight, and I pump into her. The front door rattles with each thrust.
Rose’s walls flutter around me, legs tightening as she comes, her cry strangled by my hand around her throat. Her nails dig into my skin. I release the hold, but I want more.
I carry her to the living room and sit, grunting as the angle allows me to slide deeper into her.
“Dare,” she breathes, her hands gripping the couch behind my head as she sits, slamming her ass against my thighs. She’s so wet, I glide out of her when she lifts up. A frustrated growl tears out of her, and she slips her hand between our bodies. Wrapping her fingers around me, she pumps, gathering up our slick before repositioning me.
The new friction is almost enough to undo me, but I hold strong, even as she smooths her wet palm over my torso, painting my abs with her cum.
“That’s better,” she purrs, gazing down at me as she grips the back of the couch again. “You feel so good.”
“Rose,” I warn, because I’m too fucking close for her to talk to me this way. I hold her hips and help her move.
She buries her fingers in my hair and wrenches my head back, smirking when I moan at the pain. “That’s right, Dare, it’s my turn.” Rose rocks her hips, up, down, back and forth, grinding her clit against me, lifting until I nearly slip out of her, only to drop back down my length. She tugs on my hair, brushes her lips over my neck before biting down hard.
My hips slam up to meet hers, and she moans, sucking and leaving her mark on my skin. As her nipples scrape over my chest, she flexes around me, gripping me so hard, I whimper as my balls ache, more than ready to come. But I’m not ready. I want more.
Rose kisses up my throat, her lips sweeping over the lobe of my ear. “I want you to come inside me,” she whispers.
“Fuck, princess.” I grasp her hips and try to slow her down, but she takes it as a challenge, grinding and rolling her hips until all I can do is hold on, panting as she fucks me.
“That’s right, Dare,” she murmurs, pulling my hair again.
I fight another whimper, determined not to let it out, but she tugs my strands a little harder and it rips out of me.
Rose practically purrs in approval. “You’re going to come for me like a good husband now, aren’t you?” Her lips claim mine and she rides me harder, flexing again and again, gasping as her own release chases mine.
My eyes flutter closed and my hips jerk up to meet hers, muscles tensing as I bury myself deep and come with a strangled cry that Rose swallows, moaning into my mouth as her cunt pulses and she soaks my length with her cum.
She writhes as hot threads of cum coat her walls. Breaking the kiss, she rests her forehead against mine. We share oxygen, breathing life into one another. Reveling in the nirvana we shared. It’s better than anything I’ve ever known. My mind reels as I cling to her, and my heart pounds harder than it ever has before.
Rose brushes her lips over mine and whispers, “You’re fucked now, beast.”
Eventually, Rose falls asleep. I wait to make sure her breathing is deep and even before slipping out of bed. I creep into the closet and pull on black fatigues and a black T-shirt. All the better to hide the blood with. For safety’s sake, I grab the shoulder holsters from my office, sheathing my HK pistols before heading out. The guard Remy sent jolts when I stride out of the front door. Probably surprised to see me slipping out of the house at two a.m.
“Sir,” he says, falling into step.
“Stay here.”
“I was instructed?—”
Whirling around, I point the barrel of my gun at him.
He throws his hands up and takes a few quick steps back.
“I said. Stay. Here.” I wait until he nods, then gesture him toward the front stairs of my house. Once he’s back where he belongs, standing sentinel and guarding Rose, I put the pistol away and slide into the back of my car.
The privacy glass is down and Adan, my on-call late-night driver, glances back at me. “Where to?”
“The factory.”
He nods, rolls up the glass, and pulls away from the curb.
I pay him well enough not to make mindless conversation. Staring out of the window and watching the people bumbling about, drunk or exhausted, I focus on what needs to be done.
Remy will try and talk me out of it.
But I’m not going to kill the guy.
I’m only making sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. The image of his hands all over Rose as he tried to keep her on the dance floor with him play through my mind. The obvious discomfort on her face. The relief when she saw me.
Clenching my fists in my lap, I take slow and even breaths, counting until Adan pulls up to the unassuming building. What was once a glass factory is now Frank’s. It has a multipurpose use: housing bakery supplies in the front and a holding cell of sorts for anyone who needs special handling in the back. There’s also a small gym and apartment for any of his mercenaries who need to lay low.
Climbing out of the car, I nod at Adan and let him know I’ll text him when I’m ready. The driver dips his head and gets back into the car without another word. Adan used to be one of Frank’s guys. An injury to his hip limited his mobility, and a mercenary with that sort of weakness is as good as caught or dead. Adan retired early, and I pay him well enough not to ask questions.
Remy greets me inside with crossed arms and a glare that would make weaker men blanch. I arch an eyebrow and stop inches from him, purposefully bumping my chest into his arms.
“You got something to say, Remy?”
Jaw tight, he glances away. “I hope she’s worth it.”
Remembering the way Rose softened for me, then fiercely rode me and made me hers as much as I made her mine, or the way she looked so alone when I found her crying, and all I wanted to do was shield her from the world, I can say with certainty that she is. “One day, you’ll understand.”
Remy gives me a look. More than mine, his life is not suited for love. Mercenaries can die or get locked away for life at any given moment. Then there are the other mercenaries that’ll come to put you down. Remy’s almost been taken out a few times, but my friend is one of the best. Frank made sure of that. But one thing Remy may never understand is what it feels like to love a woman.
Love?
The word swirls through my head, and even though the thought of Rose and me together makes no sense, it feels right. Who better to protect a princess than a guy like me? If she were to marry someone like that prick Eric Vanderbelt, he would have stifled her. He’d find ways to extinguish her fire, rather than let it blaze.
I enjoy Rose’s fiery personality. I like her spine. And I love the way she looks at me through her lashes before reaching up to claim my lips.
Remy steps aside. “Don’t kill him.”
I grin at my friend. “I won’t.”
He sighs. “I’ll get transport ready to take him to the hospital.”
With a smirk, I stride into the soundproof room and crack my knuckles, waking the man Remy has tied to a chair. “Fancy meeting you here,” I purr, prowling toward him.
The gag in his mouth stifles his groans of agony as I break every one of his fingers.
I grab his hair, holding up his head and speaking into his ear. “You touched what was mine.” I break his wrist and he screams. “That was your first mistake. Your second was thinking you had a chance.” I take his other wrist and break it too. He gags, and I step away, wrinkling my nose as vomit spills around the cloth in his mouth. The acidic, pungent scent is enough to turn my stomach.
“Are you done yet?” Remy asks, bored more than sympathetic.
“Almost,” I say, waiting for the guy to stop heaving before standing behind him and grabbing his head and pressing my thumbs into his eyes.
The guy cries out and begs, lashing in the chair, despite how much pain he must be in already.
“If you report this to the cops,” I tell him, pressing a little harder and showing him how easy it would be for me to take his sight, “I’ll hunt you down and break every bone in your body. But not before I take your eyes and tongue.” I lean to whisper in his ear. “And then I’ll feed you your dick until you choke on it and die.”
The guy begs for mercy. The gag muffles the words, but I won’t tell is loud and clear.
I glance at Remy, arching an eyebrow.
He grimaces, unsure if we can let the guy go at this point. I’d only intended to scare him, but I got carried away.
The guy passes out.
Sighing, I release him and step away. “Watch him at the hospital. If he so much as thinks about the cops, have Ella deal with him.” Ella is a mercenary first, a nurse second, and a poison expert third. She has the unique ability to slip into hospitals unnoticed and deal with anyone.
Remy studies me, eyes narrowing. “You love Rose.”
“And?”
“I hope it’s not a mistake.”
I clench my jaw. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
Remy presses his lips together and shakes his head before leaving the room. I glance at the guy, limp in the chair. I feel no pity, and if I stay any longer, I might just kill the man.
But that would mean more time away from Rose. I leave the room and nod at Remy, ignoring the way he’s watching me to head back to my wife. I don’t want her waking up without me there.