24. Graham
GRAHAM
“Don’t you dare.”
I am this close to losing it. Now she’s testing my patience.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
I grab the front of the lacy white virginal dress and haul her into my home.
She’s still sobbing, sniffling, making these little mewling noises that are driving me fucking crazy.
“Shut up!” I scream at her, making her jump and cry harder.
Her in that dress, her hair hanging in her face.
The scared, innocent little virgin.
“You have to get out of here.”
“Can’t you just at least kiss me?” she begs. “I’ve never even been kissed, and I’m almost thirty. I’m a loser. Colette is right.” She lets out a sob. “Just tell me you really don’t think I’m pretty.”
I stare at her. The way the lace cups the curve of her tits. The way I can see the pink of her nipples through the fabric. The way the layers of lace on the skirt brush the tops of her curvy thighs.
“I… you’re…”
My dad would “marry” the girl he kidnapped, have a little ceremony and everything with them in a white dress. And at the end he’d make them kiss him like they were in a real relationship. Stuart made them pretend they liked him.
Or else.
I don’t kiss people on the mouth.
I’m not kissing her on the mouth.
Especially not when she’s drunk and is upset that I’m not attracted to her.
The way every fiber of her is yearning for me, yearning for my affection, wanting me to make her whole with my words… and my dick.
“You don’t know the filthy, perverted shit I want to do to you,” I whisper.
Her chin snaps up.
Her mouth makes that red O, and her eyes go wide in the dark.
“You want to… what?”
“Just leave.” I wrench the front door open. “Out, Dani.”
“My granny will never let me hear the end of it if I go back home now. They’ll know I failed,” Dani begs me.
“Also, my parents are probably back now, and I can’t do the walk of shame.
It was a military operation to get me out of the building.
Just let me stay here. Just for the night.
I’ll stay in my suite. You won’t even see me. ”
I shouldn’t.
Shouldn’t keep her in my house. It’s too dangerous. I don’t trust myself around her.
She might just go to Kraig if you let her walk out of here.
Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.
I don’t want my stepbrother’s hands on her.
Then you’ll have to take her virginity, I tell myself as I watch her slowly climb up the stairs. Better you than Kraig.
I will not give into the temptation.
I’m not touching her.
“I’m not going anywhere near her,” I whisper to myself when I’m back in my study, the door heavy and solid between me and the rest of the penthouse.
My leather chair is cold when I sit in it and swing around to overlook the city, cold and snowy on the other side of the glass.
“I’m not a monster,” I tell my reflection.
With the low light and the shadows cast by the flickering fireplace, I look older. The planes of my face sharper, my cheeks sunken.
Are those wrinkles around my eyes?
I stand up.
What is important, though, is that I have self-control. I didn’t touch her. And now she’s in my house, and it’s fine.
I am in control.
I want to control her.
She doesn’t know what sex is. I’d need to teach her. Teach her to be my good girl.
I’m fine. She can be upstairs, and I’m fine.
Ding-dong!
I should be annoyed, but I’m glad of the distraction.
A guy wearing a red jacket with the Fontaine’s logo embroidered on the pocket stands there.
“I have a delivery for, uh, Daniel? Danielle?”
“Dani.” I grab the bag then toss the guy a twenty.
Fucking seriously?
Now I have to take this upstairs.
Have to see her.
I should knock on her door, but I don’t.
Maybe there’s a part of me that wants to show her that she’s here at my whim, that everything here is mine, including her.
Or maybe I just want to walk in on her, her fingers slipping between her legs, her head thrown back as she pleasures herself at the thought of being with me for the first time.
I shudder.
She’s lying on the bed, one leg propped up, the white robe falling off her knee as she rocks her leg back and forth innocently, like a teenage girl lying in bed watching TV.
Defile.
That’s what I want to do.
I want to ruin her.
She wants it, though. She said she does.
She wants me to spread her. Wants me to make her scream as she feels a cock inside of her for the first time.
“Aw, you brought my food up!” Dani hiccups and tears her eyes from the TV.
She’s been into the wine. I replaced the screw-top bottles with corked ones, and there’s a discarded wine opener on the coffee table next to a mangled partial cork.
She raises a goblet of red wine to me. “My hero!”
“There’s cork floating in your glass.” I grab another bottle. “I’m getting you a fresh one.”
“That one’s already open,” Dani protests.
“You ruined it.”
Dani’s rummaging in the paper sack.
“Yum! This is the best lobster bisque. You want some? I got extra. Ooh, and Caesar salad—they have the best croutons. Yay! Fries!”
“Why are you acting like this is a big surprise? You ordered the food.”
The cork comes out of the bottle with a dull pop.
“Because”—she pulls out a fry, dipping it in some sort of sauce that reeks of garlic and truffle oil—“that was mildly drunk me. Very drunk me is superhappy that food magically appeared. And at the end of the month, sober me is going to review all my finances and be like, ‘WTF, Dani.’”
I hand her the glass.
“Mmmh.” She makes a moaning noise that I ignore.
I am in control. I can coexist in the same space as her like a normal human being.
“This is great wine.”
“I don’t know how you can even taste it. I really should bring you some coffee. I don’t know how much vodka you drank, but I smell it leaking out of your pores.”
I turn to the door.
“Stay,” Dani offers around a mouthful of her French fries. “I’m watching Marriage in a Minute—Help, I Married My Cousin! edition.”
“Sounds intellectually stimulating. I have great hope for our generation.”
“Come be a normal person for five minutes.” She pats the bed.
I stare at her over my shoulder.
Why is she being so nice?
It’s the fawn response.
She doesn’t actually like you, you know. You’ve studied this. You know.
“You’re not a good judge of normal, Dani.”
I need to sleep. I can’t stand at the window and wait for the sunrise. I did that last night and the night before that.
As much as I try to tell myself that there’s nothing different tonight, it’s like her entire presence has blanketed the enormous penthouse.
“I’m ignoring you,” I whisper to her closed door as I unbutton my shirt and walk into my bedroom.
Kicking off my shoes, I open up the closet door.
Then I hear it.
There’s something in my closet.
An animal?
She didn’t bring Lulu, though.
It rustles in the rack of my suits.
“Got you!”
Dani screams as I grab her.
She’s just wearing a T-shirt and—
And nothing else.
She reaches a hand down to pull at the shirt, which is riding up.
“I just—” She gasps as I twist her arm. “I need something to wear for tomorrow. I thought you were in your study. I thought I could sneak in. I can’t go to work looking like—”
“A fucking sex toy.” Wrenching my arm, I throw her against the cabinet in the middle of the closet.
It makes the T-shirt ride up farther, giving me a peek at her ass.
“Did you? Or were you going to try and sneak into my bed?”
“I swear.” She licks her lips. I can almost taste the bloodred wine on her mouth. “You could treat me like that if you want, though—a fake girlfriend with benefits.”
She screams and claps her hands over her mouth when my palm slaps the marble next to her.
“I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Then what do you want?”
She won’t give this up.
“I just want to pretend you’re someone else,” I snarl at her.
She’s upset. It’s obvious.
“Turn around.”
“I’m going to go.”
“I said turn. The fuck. Around.”
“Why?” she whimpers.
“Because”—I unfasten my belt—“I’m going to give you what you want. And make you sorry you even asked.”
“Oh my god.” Her whole body trembles.
“Bend over,” I order her.
Her teeth chatter as her nipples press against the cold marble through the fabric of her T-shirt.
The hem of the T-shirt rides up just enough for me to see that glistening, swollen slit.
“How wet are you?”
“Oh god.” She jumps when she feels my fingers there.
I slap her ass then slide two fingers into her cunt. “You want me in that fat, juicy pussy, don’t you?”
“Uh… Ungh… I-I don’t… I’m not sure what I’m feeling… I… oh my god…” Her ass rocks back against my hand. “Are you going to do it? Put it in me?” Her voice raises to a squeak.
I wonder how hard her nipples are.
I move my hands up her back to her neck, cup around her chin, and slide those two dirty fingers in her mouth.
Feel her suckle on them.
I’m so fucking hard right now.
I force myself to swallow.
Her pussy’s right there, ready for my cock.
Dani moans against my fingers.
Spreads her legs apart.
Her ass arches in the air.
“Actually.” I jerk my hand away abruptly. “I’m not interested. It’s not doing it for me.”
“You’re not… It’s not…” Dani raises up on her arms, breathless. “Graham…” She pleads as I walk out of the bedroom, out to the balcony.
Outside it’s freezing—it’s about to snow—but I’m boiling hot.
See? I am in control.
I’m not some sort of deviant.
A woman was offering me her pussy—her virgin, untouched, pristine pussy—and I walked away.
I’m proud of myself.
I still have it. Still have self-control.
It’s a game I like to play with women.
Seeing how close I can get while still not falling over the cliff.
I don’t even watch porn. Never jack off.
I’m not falling into the eternal abyss.
I don’t even look over my shoulder. Don’t want to see Dani with her tight nipples under the T-shirt, her juices slick on her thighs in my bedroom.
Because—and I’ll never, ever admit this to anyone, ever—
But I was dangerously close to falling.