CHAPTER 24
THE DIPLOMAT
I follow her up the stairs. Gabriel might own her on paper, but he doesn’t own her body like I do.
She moves like she doesn’t know what she does to me.
But every sway of her hips is like an invitation wrapped in barbed wire.
And even though it cuts, I accept it, over and over.
I’ve memorised the sound of her footsteps, every breath she exhales when she thinks no one is listening, and if she stops, I stop.
We near the top of the stairs and pause. I almost smile. She doesn’t realise how much of her I’ve stolen already.
Twenty minutes. Less now. Fifteen. I can do fifteen. I’m not clock-watching, but I know when Mr Lewis gives a time, it’s not really about time, it’s about control. I tell myself to pull back. I won’t go any further. But then she laughs.
You laugh.
And it’s enough to unravel me completely.
That timer is ticking. I storm into the room behind her, and the door slams behind me like a gunshot.
She flinches, but only for half a breath.
I don’t wait. I scoop her into my arms, and bury my face into her neck like I’m trying to inhale her into my bloodstream, and make her part of my anatomy.
I can’t believe how beautiful she is. It’s like the universe had one chance to make something untouchable and it created her. In my arms, she already feels like mine, like I’ve earnt her just by suffering the weight of wanting her so completely.
‘I’ve got twelve minutes, Stella. And while boss is in a good mood, I intend to use this time wisely, before he changes his mind and shoots a bullet up my arse.’
She nods. My beautiful Stella. My little bat, fuck.
I feel my cock hardening, swelling in my trousers as she slips off her tattered clothing.
It slumps to the floor, and my mouth gapes.
She’s breathtaking. Not just beautiful – but striking.
Her long, black hair clinging to her slick inked skin as the water from the shower traces lines of her like it’s worshipping her contours. Every curve, every muscle sculpted.
‘Well?’ she smiles.
I reach for her before logic finds its footing. Every part of me soaked wet-through to the bone. Clothes clinging to my skin, but all I feel is her. I force her backwards, slamming her back against the tiled wall, water crashing down on us.
‘You like the water, don’t you, Sal? You’d be hard-pushed to drown me here.’
‘Don’t be so sure of that.’
One day, I’ll claim every inch of her body, but right now, I unzip my wet trousers, and slide my cock between her legs. She spreads them wide, wraps her arms around my neck, and I hoist her into the air, legs wrapping around my waist as I slowly lower her onto my cock.
I thrust forward, pinning her against the wall.
My hand reaches for her throat, keeping her steady, while the other disconnects the shower head.
I grip onto the side of her throat, immobilising her as I slowly pull out, my hand holding her steady, stopping me from giving her pussy the full tenderising treatment like it’s some punch bag in a butcher shop.
My hand brings the shower head closer, bringing it between her legs.
Fuck, she’s tight.
I lean forward, clamping my teeth onto the top of her shoulder as the stream of water hammers her clit. I bite harder, enough she hisses and writhes from the lack of oxygen, her legs dangling, toes barely touching the floor.
‘S-stop, Sal. I-I...’ she moans. I pull back enough to see the expression on her face.
‘Tell me I disgust you. I dare you.’ I thrust into her.
My cock ramming hard inside her, the water jet on full.
‘P-please, Sal,’ she cries out. But I don’t stop.
I want more. I love watching her come knowing I had something to do with it.
I clamp my hand over her mouth, and she moans into it.
The water beats down, steam fogging the air around us.
I drop the shower head, and reach out, arm gliding along the tiled wall, fingertips searching for the familiar shape I’d seen when I walked into the bathroom.
The electric toothbrush stands in its charger, the ridged plastic giving my hand just enough grip.
The gentle hum buzzes through my fingers as it springs to life.
Vibrations ripple through the handle. The sound is subtle, but Stella hears it.
Her eyes flash wide. ‘Turn it off,’ her breath hitches.
‘Four minutes left, Stella.’ I reach down, teasing her arsehole with the pulsating toothbrush, and as she stills, she clamps so hard around my cock I almost explode.
‘Don’t you dare, or I swear to fucking God,’ she hisses. I push the vibrating toothbrush closer, and smile. It’s the kind of grin reserved for last rites. The kind of grin I know she’d rip from my face given half the chance.
‘Funny. I overheard Gabriel once say that if anyone dared whisper God’s name, he’d remind them who signed the lease to their soul.’
She writhes, very theatrically. ‘Come on, Stella. Oscars are out of reach.’
‘Put me down or I’ll scream,’ she seethes.
‘Oh, by all means,’ I chuckle, adjusting my grip. My cock growing impossibly harder. ‘We haven’t had a good soprano since the last one went into the wood chipper.’
Simultaneously I grab and aim the shower head against her clit, the toothbrush pushed just inside her arse.
And she screams. Boy does she scream! Her scream pierces the air – it’s sharp, theatrical, soaked in fury.
It’s ricocheting off the bathroom walls like a banshee.
I can’t help it. I laugh. I’ll never get enough.
What comes out of my mouth isn’t a chuckle – it’s a full-bodied, spine-curving release.
It and my semen burst out, involuntarily.
The absurdity of it hits me, as do her fists against my arms and back.
I shake my head, still grinning. ‘Well, that was melodic. Try it in E-flat next time, ‘cause time’s up, baby.’
‘I hate you,’ she growls.
‘Be still my beating heart.’ I pull away, kicking my wet trousers to the side, and grab a towel.
‘Is this my life? I might as well be locked up. Both you and Mr Lewis keeping me here like a caged animal, to do with as you will.’
‘If my love is a cage, then I’ll have the bars forged in iron, and I’ll be your ball and chain you drag for all eternity.’
‘I thought you –’ she whispers.
‘What? Loved you? Damnit, Stella. You think love is gentle, soft hands, warm smiles. That’s just a lie they feed children to keep them quiet at night.
Love is teeth behind a kiss. It’s the rose that blooms, luring you in with its beauty just to watch you bleed when it cuts you with its thorns.
I would bleed, fuck, I have bled for you, Stella, and I would tear myself open just to show you how deep this goes. ’
‘I-’ her mouth opens. But she’s lost for words.
I grip her arms, and look deep into her eyes.
‘Is it roaring through your veins like wildfire, demanding, aching, clawing to be felt?’ I place a hand over her heart.
‘Love is the knife you never see coming. I loved Elina so much I forgot where I ended and she began. I gave her everything – my breath, my bones, my sanity. Then you came along and stole it. Now, this thing lives in me like a parasite, whispering your name every goddamn time I close my eyes. You made me feel alive, and when I’m not touching you, I feel like I’m dying.
So, please, if you can’t give yourself to me entirely, then do me a favour, and put me out of my misery. ’
‘You speak like love is a curse.’
‘It is, but this time, it’s mine to cast,’ I reply.
The steam still clings to the mirror, blurring my reflection. I drag the towel across my chest like I’m wiping away more than just water, like I’m scrubbing off the chaos that is Stella.
The black shirt and trousers are pressed, immaculate, spread out on the bed.
No blood, no wrinkles, no trace of Stella and the chaos she leaves in her wake.
I button up the shirt slowly, like a man who knows every detail matters.
The jacket that follows is tailored, and I slide it on like armour.
I’m going to need it. I pause before leaving the room, close my eyes, and inhale.
Her scent is still on my skin, her voice still in my head.
Fuck.
She makes me weak. I grip the edge of the dresser, my knuckles turning white. She’s just a girl. A complication… but the tremor in my chest tells me otherwise, and when I open my eyes, she’s standing there in front of the man she’s unravelling.
I should have just killed her. Instead, I took her because it was necessary.
I kept her because possession is power. But now?
Now I want her for reasons that make no sense.
Reasons that make me weak. She’s defiant, reckless, a wildfire that should have been extinguished.
Now I watch her burn and feel the heat crawl under my skin.
She fights me, makes me crave things I’ve never allowed myself to want, she’s the one thing I can’t control, and that makes me want her more than ever.
I slide into the dining room just in time.
My pulse hammering as he ends a call. He knows I’m here, and my stomach knots.
I’m not late, but I’m not early enough to feel safe.
I swallow hard. My palms are damp, my throat is dry, and the worst part?
I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of what he’ll say or what he won’t.