Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Alejandro
The view from my office at my hotel is spectacular—a panoramic view of the LA skyline.
I’ll never tire of it no matter how many times I look out across it.
That makes me smile as I think of another view I’ll never tire of—my wife’s beautiful ass as I fuck her from behind. My cock twitches at the memory.
The door creaks behind me, and I turn to see Jax saunter in and take a seat opposite my desk. “Hey, amigo.”
I nod at him. After our trip to Philadelphia, Jax headed to Virginia to dig into Layton Cooper and find out if what he told us in that warehouse is true. Given that there’s no longer any risk to Alana, it wasn’t urgent, but I still want to know the truth.
“What have you got for me?” I ask.
“Everything points to what Cooper said being the truth.”
“Then how was his daughter’s death ruled a suicide?”
“Well, we both know that Carmichael has a lot of powerful people at his disposal. Bethany Cooper was a troubled teen. She found out she was pregnant and couldn’t live with the shame and guilt—at least that was the picture that was painted.”
“But Layton Cooper believed differently.”
Jax nods. “Yep. And all the leads I followed led me to the same conclusion. Her friends confirmed she completely changed after her trip to New York. She went from being a popular, outgoing straight-A student to someone who was withdrawn and barely spoke to anyone.”
Jesus. My father-in-law is a sick fuck. “And the baby?”
“Bethany told everyone that it was her high school boyfriend who’d knocked her up, but I spoke to the kid, and he flat-out denied it. I put some pressure on him too, amigo, but he says he and Bethany never even got past third base.”
“So Carmichael was the father? She would have only been fifteen when he met her.”
Jax nods. “I know. Filthy piece of shit. But I had a friendly chat with the coroner.” Jax’s idea of a friendly chat usually involves the involuntary removal of some teeth.
“And he confirmed that he was paid a significant amount of money from someone in the Carmichael administration to confirm the death as suicide, despite Bethany leaving no note and there being some defensive wounds on her wrists.”
“Evil fucker!” I snarl.
“And if that wasn’t enough, Bethany apparently confided in her best friend, Karen, that the baby’s father was an older man she’d met in New York, who’d invited her to his office, drugged her, and convinced her that she had begged him for sex.
Bethany didn’t name the man but said he was very powerful.
Karen said Bethany was clearly terrified of this guy and what he was going to do to her. ”
“But what’s the connection between the Coopers and Carmichael?”
“Layton Cooper did some contracting work on Foster Carmichael’s lake house.
I spoke to some of Layton’s employees, and from what they said, Bethany enjoyed going to work with her dad and his crew sometimes.
Cooper took his daughter to Carmichael’s lake house but objected to the unhealthy interest Carmichael showed in his young daughter and stopped her from going back.
I had someone look into Bethany’s social media accounts, and she arranged to meet someone in New York a few weeks later during a class trip.
Carmichael was in New York at the time.”
It all adds up the way Layton Cooper said it did.
Poor fucker must have been out of his mind with grief.
But he should have gone after Carmichael, not my innocent wife.
“And Carmichael, or at least someone from his administration, paid to cover this up?” I ask, knowing all too well how easily corrupted plenty of officials are.
“Yeah.” Jax nods solemnly. “You think Alana knew about any of this?”
I shake my head. “No way. She volunteers forty hours a week at a shelter for abused women and kids. I can’t believe that she would be involved in anything like that.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You’ve married into one fucked-up family, amigo, and that’s saying something.”
“At least my family’s open about what we are. Carmichael pretends he’s some sort of fucking saint. And worst of all, Alana believes it. It drives me fucking crazy how loyal she is to that son of a bitch.”
“She’ll see through him one day, amigo.”
“I fucking hope so. I won’t have my children anywhere near that sick fuck.”
By the time I get home a few hours after my meeting with Jax, I’m still raging, and if I can’t take my frustration out on the Carmichael who deserves my wrath, then his daughter will have to do. Besides, she can soothe my anger way more effectively than anything else I can think of.
I storm through the house and find her in her usual spot, reading in the den. She’s such a bookworm. Reading is her favorite way to unwind, but it most definitely isn’t mine.
She looks up, all huge brown eyes and innocence.
Does she really have no idea what a monster her father is? Or is she covering for him? Does she know all about poor Bethany Cooper and the fact that her father raped and murdered her?
No. Not a fucking chance my sweet wife would cover that up, not even for him.
One day soon I’m going to have to break it to her what a piece of shit her father truly is.
Not only did he sell his daughter to me, he raped a child and had her and their baby killed.
That’s all going to be a hard pill for her to swallow.
She’s too good to be tainted by his filth.
Too good for her bastard of a father and far too good for a man like me.
Pity I’m too much of a monster myself to let her go.
I hold out my hand, and she puts her book down and takes it without questioning where I’m taking her.
I lead her to our bedroom and close the doors behind us. She stands by the bed, staring at me and trembling slightly. Part nerves, part excitement, I expect. My wife is as insatiable as I am.
I brush my knuckles across her cheek. “I’ve had a fucking awful day,” is all I can think to say. All I can offer as justification for what I’m about to do to her.
She nods in understanding. “Then let me help make it better.”
“That’s my girl. Take off your clothes and lie on the bed for me.”
She obeys immediately, and I watch every movement as she removes her yoga pants. She isn’t wearing panties, and her compliance with my rule pleases me greatly. Then she silently removes her tank top and bra and tosses them on the floor before lying back on the bed.
“Spread your legs so I can see what belongs to me.”
She opens them wide, giving me a glorious view of her freshly waxed pussy. Hugo must have taken her to the salon today.
Her breathing becomes heavier and faster while she waits for whatever I’m about to do to her. I yank off my belt and move to the top of the bed. “Give me your hands.”
She lifts them, and I loop the leather around her wrists and pull it tight against her skin until she winces. Then I feed the belt through the metal bedframe and secure her arms in place.
She looks up at me the whole time I’m doing it, her eyes wide and her mouth open in expectation. I kiss her and nip at her lower lip as I pull away. “Ass up,” I command, grabbing a pillow.
She raises her hips and allows me to slide the pillow underneath her so that her pussy is at the perfect angle for the hammering I’m about to give her.
When I finish undressing, I crawl over her, running my hands over her body and squeezing each of her breasts in turn.
I’m already hard, and I can’t wait to bury my cock in her.
But if I want to fuck her as hard as I intend, I need her wet and loose.
“Alex,” she moans, and I suck one of her nipples into my mouth. My hand slides between her thighs, stroking her slick center.
“I need to fuck you real hard, princesa,” I growl as I slip two fingers inside her.
“Then do it,” she moans, and I add a third finger, stretching her wide as she writhes beneath me, pulling at her wrist restraints.
“The more you pull against that, the tighter it will get.” I graze my teeth along the soft skin of her jawline.
“I can’t help it.”
I sink my teeth into her neck and suck hard.
“Alex,” she whimpers.
“Yeah?”
“I need you inside me,” she whines.
“I’ve got half of my hand inside you, Alana. How much more of me do you want?” I work her over, needing her to come quick so I can fuck her. She bucks her hips, making little needy sounds as she chases her orgasm. It crashes into her, leaving her trembling.
“Do you want my cock in you now?”
“Yes, please.”
I slip my fingers out of her wet channel and position myself at the perfect angle between her thighs. My cock is leaking, screaming to be inside her.
She pulls at her restraints again as she tries to lift her hips, but I hold her in place, my body pressing down on hers. I rest my upper body on one forearm and wrap my free hand around her throat.
She stares up at me, completely helpless. Exactly how I like it. I haven’t done anything to earn her submission, but I will take it anyway.
“Alex,” she whispers. “Please?”
I suddenly realize that I have more than her submission. I have her trust too. And I definitely haven’t done anything to deserve that either.
“If that’s what you want.” I slam into her.
She makes a noise—half shout, half groan, somewhere between pain and pleasure—and it turns me into a demon. I press my mouth to hers and force my tongue inside as I gently squeeze her throat. She whimpers into my mouth, but she kisses me back as fiercely as I kiss her.
After a few minutes, I have to wrench my mouth away so I can breathe. I bury my face in her neck and nail her to the bed with every ounce of strength I have.
I’ve never felt such a desperate need to be inside someone before. My body craves her. I feel like I’m losing my mind. What the fuck is this woman doing to me?
I take my hand from her throat, and she gasps when I cup her ass cheek and lift her hip higher so I might get another fraction of an inch inside her.
“Oh god,” she moans.
“No, not god. Me,” I growl in her ear as I drive into her harder.
I bite and suck her neck as I keep on fucking her, marking her as my own.
Because she is only meant for me. I love that no man touched her before me, and I will make sure that none ever will.
I don’t give a fuck how she came to be mine, about her bastard father, or any contract we have.
She’s mine now in every single fucking way there is.