She moaned in response, and I was already at the point I wanted her to scream out my name, begging me for more. That would come soon enough. Her wetness beckoned me and for some time, I dragged my tongue up and down in lazy motions, gathering as much of her wetness as possible. As I added a second then third finger, she wiggled in my hold, tossing her head back and forth.

  It’s obvious she had no idea how gorgeous she was, especially tonight. I pulled her legs open even further, pressing her knees against the wooden surface. She had never been more vulnerable and the requirement to protect her was never far from my mind, but my needs were far too strong.

  As I plunged my fingers inside, flexing them open, she murmured softly under her breath, a quiet whisper of desires that she thought I couldn’t hear.

  But she was wrong.

  She’d already begged me to fuck her.

  Electricity crackled between us as powerful as the storm from before. She was letting herself go, no longer inhibited by any concerns. She lifted her arms, allowing them to flow with the music, her long fingers stretched into a romantic pose as her breathing skipped.

  As her sweetness filled my mouth, I sucked on her clit until she moaned in pleasure as well as defiance. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, savoring her every reaction. She bit her lower lip, clenching her fingers around the edge of the table with one hand, arching her back in a blatant invitation.

  I buried my face into her wetness, licking furiously, pumping my fingers deep inside. I could tell she was close to coming, her erratic breathing even more labored.

  The music picked up in intensity, a crescendo nearing, and I rolled the end of my thumb around her puckered asshole several times. When she tensed, gasping for air, I plunged my thumb into her dark hole.

  That was all she could take, her scream penetrating the room as her body began to shake violently.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes… Oh, God!” Panting, she slapped her hand on the table, tossing her head back and forth several times. I wasn’t finished with her yet, lifting her hips off the table, finger fucking her relentlessly as I flicked my tongue up and down.

  Goosebumps appeared across her arms and chest, her pants becoming whimpers. When she curled her toes, jerking up once again, another climax swept through her.

  Then I heard the cry I’d been waiting for.

  “Maxwell. Yes. Maxwell!”

  I refused to stop, sucking up every drop of her cream. Only when she lay limp on the table did I consider stopping, leaning back and enjoying the view for a few seconds longer. As I finally rose to my feet, leaning over, she dragged her tongue across her lips. Her eyes were unfocused, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

  I planted my palms on either side of her, leaning over as I studied her eyes. They were still partially dilated, the specks of color surrounding her irises pulling me directly into her soul. When she reached up, tugging on my tie, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “You’re far too overdressed.”

  “I am, huh?”

  “Look at me.”

  “You’re perfectly underdressed.” I lowered my head, pulling a nipple into my mouth. As I sucked and nipped, she undulated under me. Within seconds, she was untying the bright red silk, a naughty look remaining on her face. “You’re determined to have your way, aren’t you?”

  “I’m just like my father.” She tugged the fabric from the knot, sliding the tie through her fingers until it was finally free from my collar. When she draped it down her chest, my cock pushed so hard against my trousers that it was difficult to take a decent breath.

  “Then I guess we’ll need to reprogram you.” I pulled away, yanking the tie from her hands. When I snagged her wrists together, she gave me a playful pout.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing, sweetheart?”

  She wrinkled her nose, and it reminded me how young she was, but with one glance at her voluptuous body, that didn’t matter in the least. I wrapped the silk around both wrists, studying her reaction.

  “Tell me,” she stated defiantly. “I want to hear it from your lips.”

  I waited until I’d secured the knot. “Taking what’s already mine.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Raleigh

  Possession.

  I’d always sensed I was a commodity, a possession to be bought and traded like a fine piece of jewelry. I’d done everything to shove it aside pretending that there wasn’t a possibility my father would be forced to use his most prized possession.

  Now, with the way Max was looking at me, the almost luminescent shimmer of his deep blue eyes, so possessive and powerful, I was locked in an awestruck moment. To some, maybe it didn’t make any sense, but his need to dominate and control me, acting as if I already belonged to him was completely arousing. I was breathless, my legs still quivering from the way he’d feasted on me, my heart racing from the intensity of his gaze.

  Perhaps I’d teased him too much, resulting in my limitations on movement, but I would do it again. He was taunting me in return, taking a step away and completely out of my reach while unfastening the majority of the buttons on his shirt.

  His crisp white shirt.

  He was so primal in everything.

  His colors.

  His taste in liquor.

  His hunger.

  I couldn’t help licking my lips as he kicked the chair aside, yanking me all the way down to the edge. When he unfastened his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring free, an involuntary moan slipped past my lips. Everything about him was spectacular, but his cock most of all. Long and thick, the bulbous head was tinged in a glorious shade of purple. I longed to wrap my lips around it, sucking until I was given a tangy reward.

  Somehow, I didn’t think that would happen.

  There was a strange look in his eyes as he peered down, pressing his full weight against my hips. This wasn’t just about a man devouring a woman, satisfying his sexual appetite. This was about giving into the needs that had threatened to set us both aflame.

  Maxwell didn’t bother removing his trousers. Saying nothing, he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, sliding his fingers up and down. I adored the smirk on his face, as if he held a secret from me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, every touch searing my skin.

  He’d heated me to the core before. Tonight was different, a passionate moment that I’d never forget. When I dared to place my bound hands on his chest, he tilted his head, issuing several deep and husky sounds.

  He was so masculine that the feel of his tense muscles against my fingers stole what was left of my breath. As soon as he slipped the tip just inside, he planted his hands on either side of me as he’d done before, his chest heaving. With one brutal thrust, he plunged the entire length inside.

  “Oh!” I dug my fingers into his chest, shocked how my muscles had clamped around the sweet invasion. Dear God, the man filled me completely, the ache across my bottom all but forgotten from the sweet moment of bliss.

  “My tight baby.”

  I barely registered his voice, my mind a magnificent blur as he pulled out, driving into me again. Blinking several times, it was almost impossible to focus, but his look of savage desire reminded me of a wild animal. I was frozen in time, twisting my hands but there was no way to free myself from the bindings. As he began a perfectly timed rhythm, I closed my eyes, lolling my head to the side.

  “So wet,” he added.

  “Yes, only for you.”

  “Good answer.” He bent down, nuzzling into my neck, nipping my earlobe. “No other man will ever touch you again.”

  A thrill trickled through me, my heart beating so hard the sound echoed in my ear. I moaned my response, pulling up from the table. “Never.”

  “My good girl.”

  Why were the words just as chilling, exciting beyond measure? The way he was powering into me left nothing to the imagination. I was so alive, free from the fears and worries. Just being in his arms, bound by something so personal as his tie was everything I needed to feel alive.

  “Watch me fuck you,” he commanded, adding a series of growls afterwards.

  Half laughing, I dragged my tongue across my lips, trying to tease him again. He was far too engaged, his desire ripping through him like a tidal wave, his shoulders heaving as every muscle strained.

  When I squeezed my muscles, he threw his head back, the guttural roar he released unlike anything I’d ever heard.

  But it enticed me even more.

  I’d never known anything so pleasurable, rapture already creeping into my pointed toes. He slowed his rhythm, his methodical moves allowing me to stay in the sweet moment of peace. But within seconds, every sound he made became strained and gravelly. My core was fully ignited, spilling over into my bloodstream as if molten lava.

  He slowly dropped his head, his eyes piercing mine. A single bead of sweat rolled down from his forehead and I watched it drop in slow motion, plopping against my stomach then splitting in two. As it rolled down both sides of my stomach, it was as if all time stopped.

  There was no other sound but our heavy breathing, a flourish of rapid beats in my heart, and my own moans that became a chorus of music. As he wrapped his hand around my knee, lifting my leg, I kept my toes pointed, embarrassed they were so ugly, beaten by the months of savage practice.

  But if he noticed or cared, it wasn’t evident. Max peppered kisses against the inside of my leg, finally lowering it seconds later. “You’re so beautiful.” He rolled his hand down to my feet, his eyes following in a heated trail. When he rolled his fingers around my bruised toes, I heard him suck in his breath.

  “War wounds,” I told him. “Just like you have on your chest.” I’d noticed the scars, curious as to the stories behind them. Maybe he would tell me when he was ready.

  A slight smile remained on his face as he rubbed them gently then dragged his lips along my knee to my inner thigh. There wasn’t a single cell in my body that wasn’t on fire, my pulse skipping several beats. “We all have them.”

  As he shifted his gaze back and forth, first my breasts then my face, I noticed so much deep emotion in his eyes that I was locked inside his world for a few precious moments.

  He’d endured a loss, something that had changed his soul. But I could feel it reawakening, the pull between us so strong. Was it unnatural to feel this way with someone I’d just met? Was it possible to capture the essence of love after a tragic event? Or were we fooling ourselves?

  I brushed my fingers down his chest as the first ravaging orgasm tickled my system. When it erupted into full ecstasy, I clawed at his shirt, jerking myself up from the table as stars floated in front of my eyes. I bit back a scream, but my lungs were too powerful, the moan floating between us. I almost laughed at the thought of the soldiers rushing in, shamed from what they were seeing.

  Or perhaps they’d enjoy the show a little too much.

  “Yes. Yes… Yes!”

  I hadn’t realized he’d bent down until he captured my mouth, muffling the second wail. The jolt of current rushing through us was even more powerful, setting my skin ablaze in all the right places.

  A single climax shifted into a beautiful wave, a series of stars in bright primal hues floating across my field of vision. As he thrust his tongue inside, I sucked on the tip. I managed to wrap my bound arms around his neck, keeping him my prisoner even for just a little while.

  When he broke the kiss, nipping my lower lip, he ground his hips against me. “My bad girl.”

  “Yes.”

  After pulling away, he gripped my hips, his long fingers pressing into my skin. Then he fucked me long and hard, his eyes never leaving me. He was insatiable, his stamina keeping me on edge. I had no idea how much time had passed but when his entire body began to tense more than before, another sense of rapture washed through me just as he filled me with his seed.

  “My little dancer,” he moaned, his body spasming.

  Seconds later, he dropped his head quickly, the move startling. Then he left his lips a few centimeters away. “I’ll let you rest, enjoy some dinner. Then dessert, but since you’ve been a very bad girl, you won’t be getting any.”

  “Party pooper. It’s my birthday.”

  “I never said you wouldn’t be getting a present.” He gathered me into his arms, lowering me into one of the chairs, even placing the napkin in my lap.

  “Aren’t you going to allow me to get dressed?”

  The beast was quiet as he collected the wineglasses, placing them in the correct positions in front of our plates. “Not until you’ve earned it. I give privileges, and I can take them away.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Who said it was a democracy?” His grin was pure evil and the expression on his face sent another shower of tingles dancing through my system. This was entirely shameful, the naughtiest thing I’d ever done, and my excitement only continued to build.

  He was right after all. Turning twenty-one would remain something special.

  “I love fires,” I told him, and I had no idea why. Maybe because we’d gone through all the innocuous banter that I could stand.

  What’s your favorite color?

  What’s your favorite food?

  What movie did you see last?

  I’d wanted to get to know him, but the sudden awkwardness was strangely more difficult than losing my father. That would sound insensitive to some people, but my father had told me a long time ago that while he hoped to live to a ripe old age, enjoying having grandkids, he doubted it would happen.

  Now I couldn’t figure out what to say to the man who’d become my lover. I wondered if it was because of the various blurred lines that had been crossed. What I had learned that was invaluable was that he hadn’t lied about how much time he spent working.

  Shuddering, the bright orange flames couldn’t seem to get me warm even with a velvety throw wrapped around my shoulders. He’d refused to allow me to dress through dinner, but the fact he’d served one of my favorite Italian foods to me was priceless.

  Especially since he’d looked so awkward doing it.

  “I wish my father had told me about you,” I said as I lifted the wineglass.

  “I wasn’t available to be a part of your life as I should have been.”

  “I’m not certain he would have allowed it. Your friendship would have been frowned on. You were the good guy and his soldiers would have been afraid.” I shifted so I could face him, folding my legs in front of me. In the glow of the firelight, his features looked hard and cold. I sensed he was deep in thought, switching from his single glass of wine back to scotch. As he swirled the liquid, he remained unblinking, just staring at the fire.

  “Yeah, he used to call me the Saint.”

  “Instead of Chaos?” I’d heard the name and thought it was ridiculous. Now I understood. He was a man who’d barge into the middle of any situation without a thought to his safety.

  Max chuckled. He looked so debonair in his white shirt and tousled hair leaning against the leather ottoman. Even the way he rested his arm on his bent knee, the thick crystal glass dangling precariously from his fingers was sexy.

  “Your dad told me that I was the single man he knew who was most likely to remain decent. I’d laughed it off, but now I know why. What a life you’ve had to live.”

  I thought about his comment and what he’d seen in the last few days. “Don’t take the representation you’ve seen while you’ve been here as completely accurate. It’s not always this way.”

  He slowly turned his head. “What way is that?”

  “Always on guard. I mean, I knew there’s always been soldiers outside the house or watching me when I left, but after a while, I got used to them. But I was a normal kid like everyone else. Birthday parties, Christmas presents galore. In some ways I was luckier than a lot of other girls. I had a car waiting at sixteen. I had the best education. At least Daddy didn’t send me away to a boarding school.”

  “That’s because of your mother.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No, I know it. On the day of your christening, your father spent the afternoon during the party he and your mother threw talking about all the plans he had for you, including being on the waiting list for some school in Switzerland. Your mother interrupted him, saying in no uncertain terms that you would never go to a school away from home. She made him promise. Right there.” He shook his head. “You’re just like your mother. A raging spitfire.”

  I laughed harder than I had in a long time, and it felt good. As he studied me, his eyes glistening in the flickering light, I sensed a growing need that was almost oppressive. But it wasn’t just about passion any longer.

  There was so much more.

  “I wish I’d known her. Daddy took all the pictures down, except for the two in my room, one of her on stage. When I’d asked him why, he said that his heart hurt too much to be reminded of the love they’d shared. I didn’t understand it at all, even razzing him about his decision more than once. He’d told me that I’d get it one day.”

  “And?” he asked in a deep, quiet voice.

  “He was right. Now, I get it.” He didn’t ask why I understood now or the reason, but maybe he didn’t need to.

  What my father had been trying to tell me was that while you could love more than one person in your life, there was only the one who would steal your heart and keep it as their own.

  In my life, that was Max.

  Right or wrong.

  Good or bad.

  While he continued to study me for a few seconds, when he lowered his head, his heavy breathing told me something was on his mind.

  “What’s wrong, Max?”

  “I have a meeting with Killian O’Rourke tomorrow.”

  “You still think he’s responsible for my father’s death.”

  He took a sip of his drink before answering. “All roads lead to him. The man you knew as Viktor Balakin wasn’t the dancer you’ve seen in videos.”