Текст книги "Return to Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Please take these off of me.”

He huffed and cocked his head a fraction, the corners of his eyes squinting when he answered. “Why would I do that when you look so divine bound and begging?”

Frustrated, she tugged at the metal, her wrist reddening in the process.

“Please…” she whined.

Sitting up straighter, Mr. Black ground out between gritted teeth, “Do you have somewhere to be? Is your fiancé waiting to give you your birthday fuck?”

The resentment in his expression and words were undeniable and barely masked his hurt. Wanting to put him at ease and make the most of the remainder of her birthday, she spoke softly and shook her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. I can spend all night with you if you want.”

His hardened eyes softened, and his pinched brows relaxed. Gradually, he stood, reached for his pants that were still lying on the floor and removed a key. Moving directly in front of her, he lowered himself to his knees and opened the cuff, releasing her wrist. Gently, he rubbed circulation back into it before attempting to stand. She promptly tugged him back down to his knees in front of her and held his face steady.

“I want you to give me my birthday fuck,” she whispered, ghosting her lips over his.

His unruly gaze fixed on her as he moistened his lips and dipped his head down between her legs to sink his teeth into the flesh of her thigh. “How do you want that fuck… rough or gentle?” his question came out muffled against her skin.

Bucking her hips upward to meet his mouth which slowly inched its way to her pussy, she answered, “Yes.”

***

Both rough and gentle. Yes, Victor could accommodate her. And he would send her back to her fiancé, too physically exhausted to satisfy him. It would be his gift to that asshole for not giving her the affection she deserved.

In one smooth motion, he lifted her off the chair and plopped her down onto the nearby desk, hiking her skirt up over her hips. With no lead-in foreplay, he buried his face between her legs and buried his tongue deep into her cunt. He loved the flavor of her, the quietly seductive taste that clung to her skin – salty sweat masked by soap and perfume. He inhaled, dragging her aromatic and unique scent into his lungs. Peach. His Peach. His Elsa.

Her fingers twisted in his hair and her nails on his scalp sent a rush of desire that traveled down his spine. Visions of unbridled, raging sex had his head spinning and blood and adrenaline pumping through his veins to his cock. He glanced upward, the shadow of her dark nipples seen against the fabric of her shirt. He reached up and tore it, the delicate material shredding under his grip, making her pant and giggle wildly.

That laugh. That smile. Her brown eyes lit up with excitement as he gripped the back of her neck and crushed his lips against hers. Her mouth was sweet and damp, her tongue stroking against his. Reaching down, she ripped the towel from around his waist and dug her nails into his ass cheeks as she greedily sucked at his tongue. He picked her up and stumbled to the closest wall where he pinned her with savage finesse. With her legs wrapped around his waist and their lips interlocked, he reached down and guided the head of his shaft to her pussy. He thrust deeply, swiveling his hips around until he found the spot that made her scream out. Her body was tight and hot, her hands clawing at the back of his neck and making urgent demands.

Over and over, he pumped and thrust, rocking his hips and violently slamming her body against the wall until a picture next to them loosened and swung uncontrollably. He squeezed a hand between them and wrapped his fingers around her throat, making her breath hitch. Her eyes grew languid under his control and a new surge of passion ripped through him at the unruly look on her face.

She had given him free reign; something no other chapter had done. Not completely. Her eyes clenched shut and he pumped into her, giving her what she had asked for. Rough. His hand tightened around her throat as his mouth took possession of her lips. A feeling of complete authority surged through him when he felt the steady beat of her artery against his fingertips. He freed her and she screamed against his mouth as her release lashed through her. Electricity jolted from his balls, up his spine, and centered in his brain. When her pussy quivered around his shaft, his own unexpected climax began to rip through him. Dazzling pinpoints of light clashed and detonated behind his closed eyelids as he came, and he couldn’t stop his long, ragged groan of release.

“Victor,” she whispered as her hard body heaved and went limp in his arms.

Her voice held a breathy, sensuality that stirred him. Yes, it was Victor that had just fucked her senseless. Him. Not Mr. Black. And he had satisfied her.

He carried her to the bed and gently laid her down.

Leaning over her, he pushed her sweat dampened locks away from her shimmering eyes and traced the dip of her sternal notch. She felt small and vulnerable and soft in his arms. She felt right. With his forehead pressed against hers, he stared into her eyes filled with heated desire.

“Often when we’re apart, my cock gets so unbelievably hard when dreaming up ways to push your limits.” She burrowed her face into the hollow of his neck and a low, rumbling growl emitted from her throat. His spontaneous confession and her reaction to it made him laugh nervously.

He paused to admire her laying there warm and content, nestled against him. The thought of fucking her gently made his blood simmer and his body grow tight with need. When he saw the light of understanding in her big, dark eyes at the way his body was responding to her, he nipped her bottom lip and growled, “To be continued…”

13: Accountable

Elsa woke with the sun shining brightly through the sheer curtains. Her body ached deliciously, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Her dreams had been tortured with the images of Victor and Nate dueling for her attention. It was not something she ever wanted to see or experience in real life. In her dream, she had felt torn between them, wanting them both and yet, wanting neither.

The chirp of her phone woke her fully. She reached for it to see Nate’s name flash across the screen.

Nate: I stopped by your house last night to talk. Where did you stay?

She tried to swallow the shame that seemed to be permanently lodged in her throat, but only gagged on it. She had been the same place where he had been; with someone else. She knew by the look on his face at the party and the reason for his quick departure, that he had made other plans. And why shouldn’t he? He didn’t owe her anything.

She left the message unanswered and reached for the note and small box that was lying next to her.

You’re more than just a chapter to me. You always will be. Happy Birthday.

-V.

All she could think about was the way Victor’s fingers raked over her body the night before and how hard he had been for her… The look in his eyes as the man sucked him off... The feeling of his body rubbing up against hers… Just the thought of his hands on her gave her more sexual awareness than she had in months. He had given her a night that she would never forget.

She read the note two more times, scrutinizing every word. It was flawless and, no doubt, plotted out methodically. Victor knew how to get into her head and that’s exactly what he was doing. He was fully aware that by giving her what she had asked for, in every sense, it would make it impossible to stop playing his game. How could she after he set off every nerve in her body and fired every synapse in her brain? He also knew what she craved. She knew for certain that he had been watching her at the party and had seen the distance between her and Nate.

And now these beautiful words. But that’s all they were – words on a piece of paper. Letters strung together. No emotion behind them.

He was wrong if he thought she couldn’t see where this was heading… Straight down a road that ended with her getting screwed over.

She fingered the box, the whisperings of temptation prickling at her nerves. Slowly, she untied the ribbon and peeled the wrapping away. Under the lid sat the most sensual pieces of jewelry she had ever seen. She knew immediately what they were, having seen them in a sex toy magazine – a sterling silver pair of heart and crystal embellished nipple shields with a matching labia clip chain.

Her body began to smolder as she touched the set, imaging them on her and showing them off for him. Nate would never have gotten anything like this for her. Never in a million years. She felt a gnawing ache as she tweaked her nipples erect and placed the shields on. They fit perfectly. She slipped her hand between her thighs to try on the pussy clip and the ache turned into something else. A need to be filled by Victor; a yearning to be taken control of and made to submit.

Goddamn him for knowing her so well; for making her body surrender to his wants when her heart and brain wanted to retreat.

With urgency, she dressed quickly and drove to 2500 East Grace Street. With every subtle movement, she felt the effects of the jewelry, making her wet and anxious.

She no sooner put the key into the lock and turned it, when the door flung open. Victor was standing just inside, blocking her access. His whole body tightened and anger flashed across his face. And something else. Nervousness? A blast of arctic air pushed her against him but he quickly nudged her back outside. The shimmering wave of pulsing fury on his face quickly made her arousal abate.

His hard, corded body vibrated with tension. “It’s not your day.”

A hot wave of embarrassment washed over her for having foolishly shown up only to be refused entrance. “I just wanted to thank you for the gift,” she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he glanced over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

Aggravated and freezing from the winter air, Elsa pushed past him to see a slim brunette staring back at her with hungry, crazed eyes.

Elsa eyed Victor questioningly, but he only stared at her as if daring her to overreact. The faint hint of a smirk on his mouth was like a sucker punch to the gut.

Wanting answers, she lifted her eyebrows and silently challenged the woman. The air was thick with unspoken emotions and Elsa felt the burn of her blue-eyed gaze as it fixed on her.

“Who the hell are you?”

The woman’s tone and attitude grated on Elsa’s nerves. With a mixture of misery for having been played with and resentment, she shot back. “I’m Chapter Eight. Which Chapter are you?”

The woman’s mouth parted in confusion and Elsa turned to face Victor again. Fury pounded and rippled in time to the rapid beat of her heart when she spoke. “I just wanted to say thank you and to tell you that your gift wasn’t necessary. I’ll return them just as soon as I remove them.”

Her words had the precise effect she wanted as evidenced by the feral look in his eyes at the mental image she had just given him.

Gritting her teeth, she fought down the snarl of anger that nearly choked her and stormed out of the house and to her car. With her hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, she felt the heat of humiliation rise to her cheeks. The thought of being only one in a long succession of women he’d exploited and fucked over, stabbed at her.

She had rushed to him like some stupid, lust-struck idiot, playing right into his hands. That fucking note… That Goddamn gift… The way he had taken her the night before and the things he said… All a part of his game.

God, she was so ignorant.

“It’s not your day.”

Recalling his words made her want to scream and keep on screaming until her voice broke. Jealousy tore through her like shards of glass slicing at her soul when she envisioned the woman who looked like walking sex. What the fuck was wrong with her? She had no right to be jealous. No right to feel anything for anyone except for Nate, and she had already massively screwed that up. And all because of Victor and his threats and promises.

“Fuck my life!”

Just as the words rumbled out, she heard a tap on the window. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she turned the ignition and backed away.

Which is exactly what she should’ve done the moment he set that piece of paper down in front of her with his fucked-up rules.

***

Elsa’s tires squealed loudly, kicking up snow and dirt as she backed out of Victor’s driveway. Furious, he stomped back inside and Mr. Black promptly ripped into Chapter Seven.

She had shown up, uninvited, making demands and asking questions about who the woman in his life was. It had been more than a year and a half since he had ended things with her, and still she fucking couldn’t move on. Upon his return from California, she had sought him out and found his address – stalked him. He didn’t like the tables being turned on him. Elsa had already done that and he didn’t need someone else prying into his personal affairs.

As he gripped her upper arm and dragged her to the door, he mentally kicked himself for selling his secluded home on the outskirts of Richmond. No one ever showed up unannounced there. Well, except for Elsa.

“What the fuck don’t you understand about this being over?” he yelled in her face.

Her eyes grew wild. “Who is she?”

“Listen to me: if you show up here again or call me, I’ll get the authorities involved. Am I making myself clear?” his deep voice boomed throughout the house.

“Do you love her?” she clawed at his chest.

“That’s not important!” he pushed her hands away and shook her by the shoulders. “The point is, I don’t love you! Jesus Christ, you don’t even love me. This is just an obsession!”

He should know. His obsession with Elsa was bordering on the same kind of lunacy.

When he saw Emily’s lips tremble and tears border her wide blue eyes, he loosened his grip. She hugged her body as if trying to protect herself and he was hit with an epiphany. She wasn’t fucked up; Mr. Black had fucked her up. No… he and Mr. Black had done this. They were both at fault for this broken and fragile girl. He could see that now. Everything he had done to try and help her, had only broken her down. His degradation and cruelty had made her weak and unable to see things clearly.

The way he had Elsa.

They were so much alike, Elsa and Emily, both impetuous and unpredictable, yet so different. Elsa – more headstrong, more determined, more dutiful. Everything that Emily and all the other chapters failed at and lacked, Elsa excelled in and possessed.

“Em…” he swept a loose strand of hair off her forehead. “You can’t do this again. I mean it. If you want me to get you help, counseling or something, I can make a few calls for you… call in a few favors.”

“I’d like that,” her delicate voice broke into a whisper.

Mr. Black roiled within him for offering Emily help, but he didn’t give a shit. He was accountable for this woman. And all the others.

14: Deliberate

After contacting a work colleague regarding Emily and dropping her off at his office, Victor drove home to put his frustrated thoughts onto paper before seeking Elsa out. He should’ve been worried about what Emily might tell the fellow psychologist about his unethical activities, but his thoughts were elsewhere. In fact, they were everywhere. Emily’s sudden appearance, his sudden realization, and Elsa’s reaction had his insides twisted into knots.

My impulsive lover… Like a storm, you’ve whipped back in to my life, both cleansing and contaminating me. I have no one to blame but myself. I invited you back . No. I forced you back. Threatened you and made promises to get you back. Your avalanche affect on my life has obscured my vision and ability to see things clearly. I don’t believe in fairytales but if I did, you would be it. My dark fairytale in the dead of night, stealing my breath and chipping away at my soul.

Where has my resolve gone? Have the few confessions I made to you ruined me so much so that I have no more strength? No more willpower to hold my ground and play this game the way it was meant to be played?

I made a life changing decision tonight by helping someone who, a day ago, I felt wasn’t worthy of my time. You should be proud for having brought on that change of mentality in me. If not for your unremitting determination, it never would have happened.

I should be proud of myself for having made that leap, but I’m not. I should be afraid that my extracurricular activities will be found out, but I’m not. I’m too exhausted to feel anything except irritated as fuck at my weaknesses and inability to stay on track.

I suppose that’s Mr. Black trying to work his way out. I’ve suppressed him as best I can, but he lies in wait, preparing for that moment when he can lash out at you and make you hate him more than you already do. You bring out both the best and worst in me, Peach. I want the best part of me to win out, but I no longer hold out hope for the impossible and simply wait for the inevitable.

***

Seated in the movie theater, Elsa tried to clear her mind of any and everything related to men, including but not limited to Victor and Nate. All of them; all the memories of the men who had been in her life were told to take a backseat and shut the hell up while she enjoyed some alone time.

She had purposely picked a movie that had nothing to do with romance; a dick flick; something with loads of action and little-to-no plot.

It wasn’t helping. Every minute that passed in that darkened room, alone, only solidified her irritation with herself.

It didn’t matter who that woman was. It made no difference that she was beautiful and had the most hauntingly blue eyes she had ever seen. It wasn’t any of her business that Victor was probably fucking, or had already fucked her, on her off days.

Nate was already starting to move on and now Victor was, too. Apparently, her rules were too much for him. She smiled. Good. She was glad she had proven to be too much woman for Victor and too much chapter for Mr. Black.

Unable to sit still any longer, she exited the building when an acute sense of alarm gripped her. She whirled around and tried to focus her eyes against the blinding snow whipping all around. She knew the feeling of being watched well, but this felt different. She picked up her pace to stand underneath a streetlamp as her eyes searched the street for her car. Where the hell had she parked? In her haste to get as far away from Victor as fast as she could, she had forgotten.

A quick look across the street revealed only a handful of people milling around outside the theatre – a couple holding hands and clinging to each other for warmth, a few teenagers in puffy overcoats, and a tall, sinewy man wearing all black. Something about his behavior and attire struck her as odd. It was the way his eyes kept darting toward her and then nervously away and the fact that he wasn’t wearing nearly enough for the frigid weather.

She moved to the next streetlamp. When he casually crossed the street to the same side, a fine edge of terror sharpened her perceptions. His prowling movements and lanky frame set her nerves on edge and she frantically searched the street again. She plunged her icy fingers into the pocket of her coat. When she found her key fob, she hit the panic alarm and mentally berated herself for not having thought of it sooner. When she saw the lights of her car and heard the horn blaring, she made a mad dash toward it.

Another forceful, glacial gust of air slammed against her, throwing her off balance and momentarily blurring her vision. Just as she reached for the door handle, she felt strong hands around her neck and hair, tipping her backward and dragging her toward the darkened alley several feet away. She shrieked and kicked, but her voice was lost in the howling wind. When she was violently thrown to the ground she whipped her head around to see a man whose face bore the wrath of hell, looming over her.

Something shiny glinted against light. A knife. But it wasn’t the weapon that frightened her – it was the pitch black of his eyes that spoke of his intentions to kill her that scared the shit out of her. Elsa scrambled back until her shoulders hit a wall behind her, and screamed again.

After everything she had been through… this is how her life was going to end? In a dirty alley in the middle of winter? To hell with that…

***

A quick GPS tracking of her phone brought Victor to Elsa’s location. He parked his car near hers when he spotted it, and exited to seek her out. The wind died down just long enough for him to hear the edge of hysteria in her voice as her scream tore through the air. The urge to protect her washed over him and his brain kicked into high gear as his feet carried him to her. A man standing just over six feet tall, brandishing a knife, had just lunged at her.

His mind whirled with everything he had been trained to do and his FBI instincts kicked in. In an attempt to subdue the man, he threw the weight of his body against him, upsetting his equilibrium. Elsa scratched at his face and delivered a knee to his balls, giving Victor the split second he needed to pull his knife-wielding arm away from her.

The frigid, night air filled his lungs as he fought against the man’s thrashing movements. He pulled the man’s arms behind him, and staggered backwards when the wind slammed against them, causing him to lose his footing on an icy patch. He spun his body as they tumbled to the ground, landing on top of the man. With one of his arms pinned beneath the man, Victor pounded into his kidney with his free hand.

The perpetrator fought ferociously against Victor and his grip on the knife was unrelenting despite Victor’s best efforts to free it from his hand. Victor managed to tear his arm out from underneath the man and throw it around his neck. He pulled back against the man’s throat to try and choke him unconscious, but he was strong. So strong. He was thin and Victor outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, but he had the kind of lunatic strength only seen in psychopaths. The man coughed and sputtered, but twisted his body into an unnatural position making Victor lose his hold as they rolled around on the snowy ground.

He was quick and lithe, and jumped to his feet only to lunge at Elsa again, determined to kill her. Clambering to his knees, Victor reached into his waistband for his Glock, thankful that it hadn’t been knocked loose.

It wasn’t something he generally carried on short trips outside his home, even though, technically, he was required to. But for some reason he had brought it along. The lingering feeling that something was going to happen had been eating away at him since the night before, and still had him on high-alert. And it was a good thing.

The man saw the gun, but made no attempt to yield. Instead, the hostility in his eyes turned to vehemence. He wildly swung the knife in Victor’s direction and then Elsa’s, as if not caring that he would be shot dead. He was truly psychotic. So be it. If he wanted to die, then Victor would accommodate him. He steadied his freezing cold hands, aimed and gently pressed against the trigger, waiting for the shot to jolt through him.

“Victor, no!” Elsa shrieked.

When Victor wavered, the knife-wielding man grinned with a malevolence that turned his blood to ice water. His gut clenched again with another foreboding sense of doom. He had only seen a smile like that on one other person: his father.

Time seemed to slow as the man dropped his hand to his side and turned to run. Readjusting his aim, Victor squeezed the trigger until he felt the click. An earsplitting shot echoed through the alley and a shock wave ripped through him. Then, the smell of sulfur.

***

Seeing someone get shot in the movies didn’t compare to the real thing. Hell, it didn’t come anywhere close. The shot was louder. The blood redder and thicker; the smell, ferrous and pungent. The screams, more horrifying.

Elsa had just witnessed Victor shoot a man down in her defense. The man wasn’t dead, though. Victor had merely maimed him.

Seeing him in action shone a whole new light on him. She knew what his job entailed to a certain degree, but to see him fight a man and risk his life for her, made her yearn for the kind of man she could never have; for the man she could never have… Victor.

Police and emergency services were quick to respond, whisking away the asshole who had been hell bent on taking her life. Confused at why he had been so determined to hurt her and still stunned, she waited in a police cruiser while Victor spoke to several officers. It wasn’t long before the news reporters showed up and Victor kicked into action once more, removing her from the scene and away from all the prying eyes.

The drive to the police station was unbearably quiet. When she opened her mouth to speak, Victor put his hand up to silence her.

“I’m thinking,” was all he said.

The vehicle was dark and only the dash lights shined on his face, but even in the darkness, Elsa could see his gears turning. His hair was wrecked and he was covered in dirt and mud from his tussle, but he never looked more handsome in her eyes. He had fought for her. He had saved her. And Mr. Black was nowhere to be seen.

Once delivered into the hands of the police, she sat with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as the scene replayed on a continual loop in her head. Wind. Snow. Black eyes. A knife. Fear gripping her. A scream. Victor. A gun. Blood. Victor’s arms around her. His calm voice calling the police on his cell phone. Waiting for the authorities. His soothing voice whispered in her ear as she shook from the adrenaline rush. Pained moans from the stranger. Victor’s fingers in her hair. His mouth on hers.

The next five hours were a blur of questions and written statements. Nail scrapings. A physical exam. More questions. The same questions. Over and over. She just wanted to go home and forget about the fact that someone had tried to kill her.

Just after eight o’clock that evening, Victor carried her from his car into 2500 East Grace Street. It seemed he was always content to carry her as if she was a fragile child who couldn't stand on her own. And always, she was content to oblige him.

Everything about Victor was just a trick of light. The way he held her. The warmth of his breath against her cheek as he laid her down in his bed. The softness of his flesh against hers…

Cradled in his arms, she inhaled his masculine scent and wondered if there would ever come a day when she could smell his cologne without being reminded of their past. Or if there would ever be a time when she could look into his brilliant eyes without seeing Mr. Black lurking behind them.

But where did the woman in his apartment and the man in the alley fit into all this? Or was everything just random? A seed of doubt lingering in her mind began to rapidly grow out of control as she recalled the scene yet again. Victor’s perfectly timed entrance… The smile exchanged between the two of them… The slight adjustment of his aim… His calm demeanor after the event…

There was no such thing as random in Victor’s world. Everything was deliberate. Always.

He truly was a man of many faces. Her stalker. Her punisher. Her Dominant. Her savior. And the man who was wrecking her life. Again.