Chapter 2 #2
“I’ve been planning for four months since Heine kidnapped me and locked me up here in my own fucking playroom.
” D’Angelo takes a steadying breath. Charles Heine, the billionaire owner of the Bay Rebels is also an abusive sub who is in love with D’Angleo.
Except he believes that love means controlling and possessing someone.
“I knew then that I was going to have the whole place remodeled. So, I made sure that I did it with the people I love in mind. Our polyamorous relationship has helped me to move forward with my life. It has given me a second chance with you. Heine showed me what toxic love was and truly made me understand how healthy our love is. I don’t want the first home that I’ve had to remind me of Heine but rather, of each one of you.
If I can provide for your needs here, then I’m going to. ”
His words punch the breath from me.
I stare at him, raw and vulnerable.
It means the world to me, after being trapped in a marriage for seven years to a man who never cared about my needs, to be the focus of this type of attention from D’Angelo.
It makes me feel seen in a way that I can’t shrink from.
I don’t want to anymore.
It takes a certain type of bravery, however, one that Shay effortlessly has.
I force myself to narrow my eyes, even though all I want to do is kiss this man breathless. “So, you’ve been keeping this secret for four months.”
“I’m a bad man, principessa.”
“Then I’d better punish you.”
I kiss D’Angelo, hard and bruising.
When I draw back, he murmurs against my lips, “The chance of me allowing you to top me is as high as Eden allowing anyone to mess with the order of his book collection. Just this once, however, I recommend that I should be punished more thoroughly.”
I can’t help laughing. “Power bottom.”
He growls a warning.
I yank him into a kiss by his tie.
This time, he dominates it, thrusting his tongue between my lips. I entwine my tongue with his. I groan, and my eyes flutter closed. He turns me like I weigh nothing, walking me backwards.
His silky curls brush against my cheeks.
When my back hits the wide, decorative newel post at the bottom of the staircase, D’Angelo breaks the kiss.
He rests his large hand on my hip, caressing circles; I shiver.
“I waited nine years, pining and secretly in love. I ached, alone in this mansion. I threw wild parties and fetish events. Yet inside I was hollow and empty because you weren’t with me.
Still, all I wanted was for you to be happy.
You’d chosen someone else to marry and build your life with, and I respected that.
But I suffered almost a decade filled with loneliness and pain, hidden beneath my cocky playboy mask.
You’re the only woman who I have ever loved, principessa.
The only one who I want to spend my life with. ”
I’m mesmerized by him, held in his gaze.
He lowers his mouth closer, until his cruel lips are grazing mine on each word, which hit as accurately as he scores on the ice, cool and deliberate. “I can share you with Shay and Eden because these men each meet your needs, as Shay meets mine. But you, Robyn, are still mine.”
I reach up and tangle my hand in his hair. “And you’re mine, Jude.”
His thick eyelashes flutter when he hears his name on my lips.
It always affects him more than anything.
“I held parties as often as I could in this mansion,” he admits in the quiet like a confession, “because when I was here alone, it felt so cold and lonely that I couldn’t breathe.
The truth that I’d lost you…my family…crushed my chest. It spiraled me into OCD episodes.
The cocktail bar, On the Rocks, saved my life, along with the other businesses in town that are run by my friends.
I always knew that I could escape into their noise, light, and laughter. ”
My heart hurts. “But it was an escape.”
He nods. “I’m not running anymore. I don’t need to because I have the three of you. Finally, I want to share all of my life here in Freedom with you.”
My brow furrows. What does he mean?
Even after almost half a year, D’Angelo is still a mystery.
He’s the heart of the hockey team. Yet like his secret renovation of Freedom Mansion, I have a sense that he has businesses and friends throughout the town that I still don’t know.
Will he at last be able to open up about them?
Excitement surges through me.
Unexpectedly, a loud crash of something shattering echoes from above us.
I wince, and D’Angelo’s expression hardens.
“Sorry,” Shay shouts down the stairs.
“Five minutes before he broke something,” D’Angelo mutters. “It’s a new record.”
I let go of D’Angelo’s hair. “Well, if you will invite the whirlwind inside…”
D’Angelo grabs me by the shoulders and spins me. I let out a startled oomph, as he bends me over the wooden newel post.
I brace myself with my hands.
My breathing picks up with desire at the feel of D’Angelo pinning me down with his flattened palm.
“I like strip poker.” D’Angelo runs one finger down my back, and my skin goosebumps in anticipation. “Easy access. Perhaps, we should have a house rule that Shay and you never wear clothes inside.”
My breath catches at that image.
My throat is dry, and I struggle to swallow. “All that rule will do is positively reinforce Shay breaking things. He’ll take it as a reward.”
D’Angelo chuckles, before he presses the weight of his body over me.
The sensation of his expensive suit against my skin makes me even more aware that he’s the only one wearing clothes.
He licks across my red tipped ear, before kissing the most sensitive place behind it that makes my toes curl.
“I intend to christen every room in this house.” D’Angelo’s voice is low and seductive.
Dangerous.
“There must be at least…I don’t know…fifty rooms?” I say, high and breathy.
“Then it’s lucky that I have Shay to fuck as well. I can take turns. Starting, now.”
“The foyer…?”
“It’s a room,” D’Angelo defends, running his finger down my pussy. “And you’re already wet.”
I cling to the post. “I always am around you.”
D’Angelo rewards me by sliding his thick finger into my pussy and curling it. “We have maybe a minute before the Terrible Twins come thundering down those stairs. Come before then, or you won’t come at all.”
“Mean,” I try to hiss but end on a moan, as he replaces his finger with his cock in a single hard thrust.
“That’s right.” D’Angelo stays pressed hard over my back, mouthing at my neck, before kissing that one spot behind my ear that he knows drives me crazy. “Keep your legs spread. Good girl. You feel amazing on my cock.”
He pistons into me, hard and relentless.
This is about claiming me as much as christening the house.
Claiming our love, home, and future.
Knowing that vaginal penetration isn’t enough to push me over the edge, he pushes me against the post, making sure that my clit is cruelly — earth shatteringly — rubbed on each thrust.
At the same time, his kissing is relentless.
“Thirty seconds,” D’Angelo whispers.
I whine.
I’m pinned beneath him, held and safe and pushed with no escape toward an orgasm that is being ripped from me.
Almost there…
“Ten seconds.” D’Angelo’s breath is hot against my neck, as his cock is hot inside me. “Wife.”
Something inside me breaks at the word.
“Husband,” I murmur.
D’Angelo stiffens behind me, affected by the word that I know he wishes could be real, even though we’re only playing at this. We can’t marry because I won’t choose one man above the other, even though in my heart, I’m already married to all three of them.
Then he is coming, curled over me like he can crawl into my skin.
And I’m coming too, hard and painful and shocking in its intensity.
When I scream, D’Angelo slams his palm over my mouth.
“We don’t want to scare the neighbors.” He sounds as out of breath and as wrecked as I am. “Actually, we don’t have any. We can be as loud and debauched as we want. This really is our perfect home.”
Home.
It truly hits me then that D’Angelo has designed a true home for us.
Have the four of us found our forever home together?
A contentment that I didn’t know I could feel floods me. It’s a safety in my relationship and dynamics, despite the pressure and dangers that we need to hide our true love from the public.
In private, we can show it.
In private, we have a family and a home together.
All of a sudden, something vibrates against my hip.
I wet my lips.
Did D’Angelo bring a vibrating sex toy for round two?
D’Angelo hushes me. “Quiet, cara mia.” He tightens his hold over my mouth, before reaching behind him and then scrabbling to pull something out of his pocket.
What the hell is he doing?
Then I hear the unmistakable sound of D’Angelo answering his phone…to my dad. “Hello, coach.”
My eyes widen.
What the fuck?
Is D’Angelo seriously talking casually on the phone like he hasn’t still got his cock in my pussy and his cum dribbling down my thigh?
I blush, standing as still as I can, as if Dad can see me through the phone.
But I still lick D’Angelo’s palm in retaliation.
Satisfying.
D’Angelo doesn’t react.
Less satisfying.
“Of course I’m preparing to face the Detroit Red Wings on Tuesday.
Why am I out of breath?” D’Angelo’s lips curl into a smile against the back of my neck.
My heart skips a beat. “Because I’ve just been exercising in the gym.
Yes, coach, I’m more than aware that they’re the toughest team and this is the crucial turning point in the season for making the playoffs.
But why…? An emergency crisis meeting tomorrow morning with Heine…
?” D’Angelo’s voice spikes with panic. “What the fuck? Heine is meant to be in Germany. Okay, I’ll be there. But I won’t be alone.”