15. Phoenix
Phoenix
I manage to hold it together long enough to exit Atticus’ suite and make it into my own.
There, I close the door and sink back against it, closing my eyes in an effort to block everything out.
My heart pounds a vicious tattoo in my ears, every part of me down to the very blood in my veins unable to fathom what just happened.
I did everything he told me to do. I thought I was doing a good job.
Tears sting at the back of my eyes, but they’re out of frustration more than anything else.
I want him. I was right there, on my knees in front of him—hot, wet, and so very ready…and he sent me away. Did I suck at giving head or so mething?
Suck. Haha. My unintentional pun has a huff of laughter slipping from my lips, and I shake my head. No…I don’t think it was a bad blowjob.
I don’t have a lot of experience, but I’ve been paying attention, and I’m pretty sure he was enjoying it. I don’t think he could have been any harder, and his fingers in my hair had signaled pleasure as they twisted and pulled.
God knows I was enjoying it. I was seconds from stopping and asking permission to touch myself, the only thing stopping me the indignity that I, a grown ass woman, had to ask for permission to my own body.
I didn’t want him to give me permission. I wanted Atticus to take control.
Something about crawling around on the ground for him, seeing that little gleam of approval in his eyes, made me feel…desired. Like I was exactly what he needed.
His good girl. Those words have never particularly held power for me, but on Atticus’ lips something altered. I wanted to be his good girl, and he praised me as such…but then …
I swallow back a sob. He just got so mad.
His anger doesn’t change the fact that my body remains incredibly turned on, though. Standing here against the door, I can feel the pulse between my legs. I need a release.
It has been weeks, and these insufferable men keep bringing me to the brink and then shutting me down. My core aches painfully, demanding…something.
And damn it…I’m going to take care of it.
My hand slides across my thigh, my fingers gliding across bare skin.
My breath quickens, and I keep my eyes screwed tight.
Screw the contract; they’ll never know. I didn’t hear any of the others come upstairs, so they must still be down in the casino.
I can go into my bedroom or my bathroom and ease some of this pressure before I freaking explode.
Opening my eyes, I take a step forward, then stop dead. Con is lying on the couch in the little sitting room adjacent to my bedroom, sprawled out over the cushions with his shoes still on and his phone in his hand.
I jerk my hand free with a wheeze. “Fuck! ”
“Hi, princess.” He doesn’t bother looking up from his screen.
“What the hell are you doing?” And how long have you been here? “Have you just been sitting there watching me?”
He glances up at that. “Well, you looked like you were thinking some heavy thoughts. I figured I’d give you a minute to work through—” He waves a hand in the vague direction of the door I’d been leaning against. “—whatever that was.”
I cross my arms over my chest. Con’s presence on top of everything Atticus just stirred is too much. I feel too exposed, too vulnerable to the way he manages to see every hidden part of me, and I can’t deal with it right now. He needs to leave. “Why are you here?”
His regard is steady and unapologetic. “I wanted to spend some time with you.”
And just like that, I know he’s not going anywhere until he’s satisfied whatever urge it was that brought him here. I pinch the bridge of my nose in defeat. “Don’t call me princess. ”
“Oh, but I figured that living in this tower with us would be giving you Cinderella aspirations. Don’t worry, the spell will break—only at the end of the twelfth month, though, instead of the twelfth hour.” He laughs at his own joke.
“I don’t need to be reminded.”
Sitting up, he pats the cushion next to him, holding his phone out so once I sit, I’ll be able to see what he’s watching. “Come here.”
As soon as I see the two naked women on the screen, making out and touching each other, I roll my eyes.
“What the hell is this?”
He waggles his eyebrows in exaggerated fashion. “This, princess, is called lesbian porn. I know how much you like to watch, so I thought you’d like to watch with me.”
I avert my gaze, looking at him instead. “Don’t you get enough of this with all the women that you have coming up every single night?” I don’t understand how men, even ones as young as the Titans, can do nothing but eat, drink, and fuck .
“You would think so,” he says, his tone offhand. “But I find keeping the rotation fresh helps.”
He leans back on the couch, kicking his legs up onto the ottoman, and wraps an arm around me to drag my body to lie on top of his. I can feel his hard cock pressing into my ass, and it is so fucking tempting to press back into it.
But I do nothing. All of them…they’re such fucking teases.
“Lesbian porn not your thing, princess? Or if I slide my hand between those pretty little thighs of yours again, am I going to find that it most definitely is?”
“Nope, not my thing,” I say, hoping he doesn’t call me on my bluff and touch me, anyway. Although the arousal is from Atticus…and maybe a little from being pressed against his body now…I don’t think Con will care much about the distinction.
“What do you like?” he whispers into my ear, the timbre of his voice making my breath hitch. The fingers of the hand he has resting on my stomach begin moving in small circles.
I inhale an unsteady breath. “I don’t really know. I’ve never really had the time or inclination to watch a lot of porn and find out.”
“Hm. I have an idea,” he says. He pulls up another video, this one of a woman being shared between four men.
“Damnit, Con. This is harassment.” I make a half-hearted effort to get up, but the arm banded around my waist tightens, drawing me back.
“You signed a contract agreeing to harassment, princess.”
I fall silent, consciously willing my body to relax. My eyes reluctantly fix on the screen he holds in front of us, and once I start, I can’t stop watching, fascinated by the way the men share the woman. One man beneath her and another standing behind her…the other two taking turns at her mouth.
Her mouth was open—gasping or begging, I couldn’t tell—and that was the part that undid me. The surrender of it. The way the men worked together like they’d done it a hundred times. Like it was a game they all played and she was the prize.
I shift my hips a little, and Con lets out a growl behind me, his hand tightening once again .
“Can I ask you a question?” My hands fidget just above his on my waist, restless.
“Maverick would be in your ass. I would take that sweet cunt, and Storm and Atticus would share your mouth,” he replies instantly.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Right, okay. A different question.”
“If you must,” Con says. “But we both know that was your real question.”
“What are you going to do now that you’ve been kicked out of school?”
“They’re going to let me back in.” He says it with utmost confidence, like there’s nothing to worry about. And maybe there isn’t. God knows they’ve bought everything else they wanted.
Including me.
My lips twist in a scowl. “Okay. What are you going to do after school?”
He lets out a low, humorless laugh. “As if I have a choice. I will take over the family business. All of the Titan-Wynn properties, and you know that we have hundreds across the globe. This is just the one that I prefer to stay in.”
“Why?”
“Why do I like staying here, or why don’t I have a choice?
What does it matter? I’m trying to watch porn because I’m horny as shit.
The hookers won’t get here for a couple hours, and instead of enjoying it with me, you’re being fucking chatty.
” Con pushes me off his lap and stands up.
“C’mon. We’re going down to the casino. Maybe some poker will take this edge off, since you’re clearly not doing it.
” He pulls me to my feet and tugs me toward the door.
Inwardly, I seethe. Whose fault is that? I want to ask. I don’t know what this push-pull is supposed to be accomplishing, but I don’t like it.
At the lobby floor, we step off the elevator and enter the resort casino. The security guard standing at the door doesn’t even blink; owner privilege, I suppose.
Releasing my hand, Con seats himself at one of the poker tables. I move to sit in the seat next to him, but he grabs my hips and pulls me onto his lap.
“Deal me in,” he says, dropping a lot of bills on the table .
I look around, but I don’t see any of the others. I’m guessing Atticus is still upstairs in his suite, but Maverick and Storm should both be down here somewhere. How am I supposed to keep track of them if they’re not all in the same place?
Or maybe Maverick and Storm went upstairs, and even now Atticus is up there telling them how he found me poking around in his room? I found nothing and took nothing, but that doesn’t matter where they’re concerned. It’s a violation.
I chew my lip, anxiety rising higher with every passing hour.
I need to find something I can use as leverage, and my windows for doing so are pitifully small.
If what Sarah said is true, then the mob is getting impatient, and I don’t know how long they’re going to be content waiting for me to come to them.
“What are you looking at?” Con snaps.
“Just looking to see if the others are down here,” I say, not really thinking about it. Con’s body tenses beneath me, and I wonder if I just fucked up.
“Oh, what’s wrong there, pretty boy?” one of the other men at the table sneers. “You not man enough to take care of that little honey on your own? She gotta call in reinforcements?”
“If I were you, I would shut that fucking mouth, you hillbilly motherfucker,” Con says, standing up with no warning. I go crashing to the floor.
I hit the floor hard, my palms slapping the carpet as my dress rides up. Heads turn. Laughter and gasps sound. A flash of a camera phone blinds me for a moment, and I yank the hem down, rage and panic tangling like wire in my throat.
By the time I’m back on my feet, trying to straighten my dress and balance on these ridiculous heels, Con has his hands around the other man’s throat, and security is trying to pull them apart.
I’m so fired.