Chapter 3 #2
"He wasn't watching, was he? No, he was fucking a prostitute in his van.
Spent the entire window inside her while my operation was wide open.
" He says it without emotion, just facts delivered across a dinner table.
"The feds noticed. Nobody gave the warning, nobody redirected the trucks, fifty million in product seized.
My people on the ground were arrested. Three of them are still in federal prison, and they're not getting out. "
My stomach turns, and it has nothing to do with the dildo. I reach for the champagne and take a long drink.
"Fifty million dollars, Summer. All because your father couldn't keep his dick in his pants for two hours."
"I didn't know," I say quietly.
"I know you didn't." His eyes are steady on mine. "I demanded he pay it back.”
“We don’t have that kind of money.”
“No shit. He tried, sold assets, businesses, and properties. Not enough, not even close. So, he offered me the only thing he had left that was worth anything. You."
The word sits between us on the white linen.
I stare at the candle flame and feel the dildo shift inside me as my body tenses.
My father sold me because he fucked a prostitute when he should have been doing his job.
That's the reason, the whole stupid, ugly, pathetic reason I'm sitting in this chair right now.
"Why me?" My voice comes out quiet. "Why not just go after him directly? Kill him, take his business, burn it all down. Why marry me?"
"Because I wanted to take what he cherished most," he says.
The laugh that comes out of me is raw, ugly, and real.
It echoes off the marble, the glass, and the high ceilings, and it doesn't sound like laughing at all.
"Then the joke's on you, Kairo, because he doesn't cherish me.
" I look at him across the table, and I can feel the tears threatening, but I swallow them back with another mouthful of champagne. "He never has. Nobody does."
The smugness drops off his face. The amusement, the control, the calculated calm, all of it falls away for a second, and what's underneath is unexpected. He's quiet for a long time as he stares at me.
"I will."
Two words I wasn’t expecting.
I stare at him, then I look down at my wrists, still red from the cuffs, at the dress hiked around my thighs, at the chair, and back at him.
"This is your idea of cherishing me?" I can hear the sarcasm dripping off every word. "Cuffing me to a chair with a dildo inside me over dinner? Making me lick your thigh on my knees? That's what cherishing looks like to you?"
He doesn't flinch. "All of this will be worth it, Summer."
"Worth it for who?"
"For you." He says it like it's already happened and he's just waiting for me to catch up. "I'm going to make you feel things nobody has ever bothered to make you feel. And when I'm done, you're going to understand that everything I've done was because you're worth it."
I open my mouth to fire back, but nothing comes out.
My throat is tight, my eyes are burning, and I hate him for saying that now, here, while I'm full, flushed and humiliated, because it means I can't tell if he's lying, and both options terrify me.
He lets the silence sit for a moment, and then he reaches across and tops up my champagne, like the conversation is over.
"Dessert?" he asks.
"Fuck your dessert," I say as a single tear falls down my cheek.
“Are you sure? Because I could do with something sweet.” He grins.
I roll my eyes at him and reach for another glass of champagne except that as the glass reaches my lips, the dildo vibrates to life inside me, and I jolt so hard the chair scrapes across the marble as I throw the glass of champagne everywhere.
A strangled sound rips out of my throat before I can stop it, my hands flying to grip the edge of the table, my back arching against the chair.
The vibration is deep and steady, and it hits every nerve I've been trying to ignore for the last hour.
"You’re my dessert, wife," he says, and takes a sip of champagne.
"Turn it off." I'm panting already, my thighs clamping together, knuckles white on the table. "Kairo, turn it off."
"I like hearing you say my name." He tilts his head. "Say it again."
"Turn it the fuck off." My voice cracks as the vibration shifts, stronger, pulsing.
My hips rock against the chair, and I can't stop them, my body chasing the pressure while my brain screams at it to stop.
He watches me from across the table, sipping champagne, completely still.
The remote rests beside his plate. The orgasm builds fast, too fast, the champagne and the hour of sitting on the dildo and the vibration all compounding into something I can't outrun.
Heat floods my belly, my thighs, my chest. I'm gripping the table so hard my nails are going to leave marks in the wood.
"Look at me," he says.
I don't want to, but my eyes find his anyway, and he's watching me with that dark patient hunger, the same look from the thigh ride, from the beach, from the wall in the foyer.
The look that says he would wait forever for this and consider every second worth it.
I come with a sob that I can't swallow. My whole body shudders, hips grinding down against the chair, the vibration dragging it out of me, wave after wave.
I'm shaking and crying and gripping the table, and he doesn't turn it off.
He lets it run until I'm whimpering, until I'm oversensitive and gasping, and my head drops forward onto my arms. Then he clicks the remote and the vibration dies.
Silence fills the room except for my ragged breathing.
He stands and walks over to me.
“I can’t take any more,” I confess to him.
“I know, you did so well.” He smiles down at me.
Fuck, he is so handsome, with that square jaw, dark stubble scattered across it, his hair now floppy from drying in the air.
He lifts me gently before pushing away my plates and placing me on the end of the table.
The loss of it makes me gasp. He then reaches down and grabs the dildo, and I watch as he licks it.
My eyes widen as I watch him slowly lick my wetness off the silicon.
“Told you I needed something sweet, and fuck, Summer, you are so sweet.” He groans as he continues to lick.
What is happening? My body is on fire again, and I’m very confused.
“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted.” He hums, licking it one last time before throwing it onto the table. It lands with a thud.
We just stare at each other for a moment.
“Summer?”
I bite my bottom lip as I continue to stare at him. How was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?