Chapter 28 Juliet
JULIET
Nolan moves in as the glow of the computer begins to flash. I glance around him, frowning when it goes dark and a bunch of green and blue letters begin typing across the screen in rapid fashion. Then, Nolan’s words catch up with me.
I’ve killed for you before… and I’d do it all over again. You’re everything to me, Princess.
My gaze snaps to his face, half hidden in the shadow of the room.
A shiver steals down my spine and I back up a step, putting my hand out as a spell of dizziness assails me.
Being back in this house isn’t good for my mental stability and I’m glad we’re almost done, but Nolan stalking me through Morpheus’ office is making my heart race.
“Nolan?” His name comes out as a whisper in the dark.
“Come here,” he urges, his voice low, but no less strong for its volume.
Confused, but trusting, I let him take my wrist and pull me closer to the desk. “Do you trust me?” he asks as he pushes me back against it and plasters himself to my front.
“Of course I do,” I say. “But—”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger over my lips, halting me from speaking further. “That’s all I need, Jules. If you trust me, then trust that I know what you need right now. Can you do that for me?”
I could walk across a river of fire for him if he asked. Remaining quiet and letting him distract me from the ugly emotions and memories of our location is nothing. I nod my head, remaining quiet as his finger trails back and forth across my lower lip.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Me. Never before have those two words been so much of a fucking turn-on. Nolan stands before me, blocking out most of the room with his bulky frame. His rich, masculine scent tinged by the slightest hint of sweat eats away at my anxiety as he consumes all of my attention, all of my senses.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders.
My eyes widen, but my hands go to the hem of my shirt and I drag it up my body and off my chest, tossing it to the ground.
Nolan’s fingers trail lower to my throat and I swallow roughly, wondering just what he’s planning.
When his knuckles graze my right breast, just above the cup of my bra, I inhale sharply—automatically thrusting my chest out farther as a whimper builds inside of my throat.
His chuckle is wicked and cruel. “I’m going to drive all thoughts of that fucker from your mind forever, Princess,” Nolan whispers to me, his voice silken danger. “Do you want to know how?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as my thighs squeeze tightly together, a wetness oozing into the gusset of my underwear with each second that ticks by.
I glance past him to the closed—but not locked door.
Stuart can’t find us in here, not if we want to get out of this place without any further suspicion.
“Juliet.” Nolan’s hand snaps to my face, gripping my chin and redirecting my attention back to him. “Are you losing focus?”
“I…” I swallow. “We shouldn’t start anything here,” I tell him. “Stuart could—”
“Fuck that bastard,” Nolan cuts me off. “We should start something here because here is where you felt most trapped, isn’t it? In this house, by the man who dominated this space. Tell me.”
I nod. For the longest time, Morpheus had been the monster in my nightmares—hidden in shadow because I couldn’t accept that a man that I thought was my protector, my uncle, hurt me.
I took the pills my mom gave me, drank whenever they didn’t work well enough, and drowned myself in bad friendships and relationships and nothing that mattered to hide from the truth. I was raped by Morpheus Calloway.
Maybe it didn’t happen in this house, but this house is where I was imprisoned by him. Threatened. Caged like a pretty bird for his pleasure alone.
My eyes slide shut as Nolan’s fingers release my chin and move back down.
His free hand goes around my back and my bra loosens in the next second.
I don’t open my eyes as he gently takes the straps and lowers them down my arms. Cold air hits my nipples and they tighten, pebbling into hard little points.
My pussy floods with arousal. My breaths come in fast, short pants.
“Imagine him right now,” Nolan growls, his voice sounding more animal than human. “Imagine his ghost sitting in that chair behind you, watching you with me. Know that no matter what he took before, he can never have you. You don’t belong to him. You never did.”
I gasp, eyes flying wide as he turns me, spinning me to face the desk and the windows overlooking the gardens of the Calloway mansion. Nolan unbuttons my jeans and slides the zipper down before tugging the fabric over my hips, down my legs.
“Bend over.”
Harsh, rapid breathing echoes between us as I follow the command.
Placing my hands flat on the desk, I lower myself until I’m lying right next to the computer we came for.
I know I should remind him about the mission, but I’m too caught up in what my body is feeling, in what he’s doing to me.
My panties are tugged down next, but once they reach where my jeans are, pinning my knees together, Nolan doesn’t bother to pull them down any farther.
Big, firm hands grip my ass cheeks, squeezing them, holding them, smoothing over them. I tremble against the desktop when his fingers dip between my thighs and pause over my cunt.
“Fuck,” Nolan groans, drawing out the word. I feel his forehead pressed to my back as he bends over me. “You’re fucking soaked, Jules.”
It’s true. There’s no denying what he does to my body. I’ve been dripping wet since I realized what he planned to do to me in here, in this office where I once stood across from my worst nightmare.
Nolan plays with my pussy lips for a moment, smoothing his fingers through my wetness and coating himself in me before he slides up a bit more and presses the pad of one finger to my clit. I jerk against the desk and my thighs tighten automatically as I pull away from the bolt of sensation.
Smack!
I stiffen and it takes me a second to realize that he just slapped my ass.
“Don’t you dare pull away from me.” Nolan’s words are a growl and he grabs my shoulder with one hand, keeping me anchored in place as he forces his slick-covered fingers right into my core.
I arch against the sudden intrusion, little sparks of heat popping up along my spine.
Nolan fucks me with his fingers, retracting and thrusting them back into my pussy over and over again until I’m breathless with how close I am to orgasm.
With my thighs clamped together by my underwear and jeans, I can’t part my legs any more to alleviate the pressure and he uses this fact to his advantage.
Circling my clit with his thumb each time he pushes back inside me.
A moan bubbles up from my throat and I turn my cheek, pressing what feels like scorching hot skin to the cool relief of the desk’s surface.
“No one owns this pussy but me, Lex, and Gio,” Nolan snarls. “Say it—tell me who owns this pussy.”
I grit my teeth as his thumb pushes against my clit once more, pressing and circling the bundle of nerves. I’m so damn close. I arch, shoving my hips into the edge of the desk as I hump his hand, silently demanding my pleasure.
His fingers disappear a moment later and I cry out in desperation. “No!”
Smack! I squirm as Nolan’s hand comes down in an arch, cupping the underside of my ass and hitting me right in the crease between where my thigh meets my ass cheek. Smack! Smack! Smack!
Mouth open, I gasp for air. A heady sensation invades my mind, fogging over all of the anger and anxiety of earlier and replacing it with him and the need spilling through my veins.
“Nolan… please.” There’s a desperate edge to my voice that, at any other time, would shame or infuriate me. Right now, however, all I can think of is how good it’s going to feel when he fucks me right over the edge and into the blissful orgasm I can sense just beyond the ridge.
“Say it,” Nolan repeats as he cups his hand over my cunt. He’s always warm, my personal heater when we’re sleeping together, but nothing is hotter than the place between my legs. Wetness drips down the insides of my thighs as I whimper. “Who does this belong to?”
“It’s yours.” I pant. “Yours.”
“That’s right.” Nolan’s fingers start moving again. “Because you gave it to us. You chose us. It was never his.”
I might flinch at the brief reminder of Morpheus, but if I do, I don’t remember, because in the next instant, the beautiful sound of Nolan undoing his own pants reaches my ears. I press up from the desk.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, fuck me. Please—fuck—Nolan, please.”
The head of a hard cock presses against my backside, slipping between my thighs but not entering me, and I groan in frustration, rocking back.
Nolan coats his length in my juices, back and forth, the friction making me shiver, but not giving me nearly enough to come. I reach back, my hand seeking him out.
He grasps it and pulls me farther up, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck as I arch. My bare breasts are pointed out, towards the windows, and he cups one, tweaking the nipple with a hard little twist.
“Rock back on me, Princess.” Nolan’s voice is gruff, his breath brushing over the side of my face. “Slide yourself along my cock. Get me ready to take you.”
My eyes slide shut once more as I follow his command, my hips moving back and forth as his length glides along the slick lips of my sex. Through my pussy, the head rubbing over my clit with each pass. Slow. Sweet. Fucking torture.
With my hand around the side of Nolan’s neck, my thighs quivering as I slowly lose the battle against myself, I practically hump him for relief. All the while, he whispers dirty, filthy words of encouragement in my ear, driving me higher and higher.