Shayla Black - Forever Wicked

“You’re not eating.”

“I had a late lunch,” she lied.

He set down his fork slowly. “Do you remember what I do to subs who aren’t honest with me?”

Orgasm deprivation—hours and hours of it. Her sex tightened. Heat crawled up her cheeks. Even on an olive-skinned Italian girl, the blush would be impossible to miss.

“I see that you do.” Jason looked satisfied. “The sensual torture last time will seem minor compared to what I’ll do tomorrow night if you don’t tell me the truth now.”

Gia gritted her teeth. Until tonight, they’d never even had an argument. She’d just willingly fallen under his spell and into his embrace. Trying to resist Jason now was as futile as it was arousing.

“All right, then. I was nervous when I walked in and now I’m sick to my stomach that I let you buy me, even for a few weeks.”

With a cynical curl of his lips, he lifted his beer and toasted her. “Everyone has their price, Gia. I just found yours.”

Gia tried to breathe through her nerves as she arrived at Jason’s condo the next night. The mountain of lies she’d told her family still scalded her with shame. They wouldn’t understand. Mila would tell her not to compromise herself. Her parents would be disappointed that she’d sold her morals and her body, even briefly. Her brother, if he’d been here, would have gone after Jason with cocked fists and a loaded semiautomatic.

Fabricating excuses had been far better for everyone.

As she stepped off the glass elevator that gave her aerial views of the city stretching on forever, she crept into a foyer with a water feature cascading down a glass wall. His door stood to the left. Gripping her suitcase in her hand, she glanced at her phone. Three minutes until six. One hundred eighty seconds to decide how the hell she was going to leave in eighteen days with her sanity and her heart intact. Of course, she’d had nearly twenty-four hours to ruminate on that problem. She’d come up with absolutely nothing.

Gia focused on his imposing black wood and wrought iron door, but couldn’t make her feet move. Her belly clamped. Her heart stuttered. She tried to convince herself that she could handle this, but the mental pep talk wasn’t working.

To her shock, the door opened suddenly, and Jason stood there in jeans, a long-sleeved jersey knit top in midnight blue, bare feet, and that triumphant hint of a smile she wanted to slap off his face.

“You’re on time. Very good.” He stepped back to admit her. As she entered with leaden legs, he glanced at her suitcase that had seen better days. “Is that all you brought?”

Had he expected her to bring her whole closet? “You gave me the impression I wasn’t going to need many clothes.”

“You won’t.” He shut the door behind her and took her bag. “I don’t have many ground rules while you’re here. Anything you see in the kitchen you want, take it. Don’t leave the building without consulting me. I’ve got a heated pool on the deck outside our bedroom. There’s a full gym downstairs. You’re welcome to use either as you’d like. No work while you’re here, especially on your brother’s case. We’ll discuss any family emergencies together as they arise. When we’re sceneing, you will call me Mr. Denning. Is anything I’ve said confusing?”

“No.” She supposed that since she hadn’t seen or knelt for him in nearly a year, he no longer wanted her to call him Master. That was just fine. That slash of pain didn’t mean a damn thing.

To avoid staring at him, she eyed his personal space. The expanse of a two-story wall of windows was unbroken by a drape or blind. Then again, why bother? Who could peek in on them this high up?

“Nice shoes.” He glanced down at her dressiest T-strap black heels. “What three garments did you choose to wear with them?”

His high-handed attitude made her feel like a piece of merchandise. Gia tried to keep a grip on her temper. Was he punishing her for the last year or was she seeing the real Jason Denning now that he had no reason to woo her?

“Hello to you, too. My day was hectic. How about yours?”

“It dragged by while I counted the hours until I could fuck you again.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. “I’m much happier now that my wait is over. And I don’t want to hear the attitude again. I’ve done nothing you haven’t agreed to, so don’t act as if I’ve insulted you.”

Technically, he was right, and that rubbed Gia completely wrong. “Should I just drop all my clothes here, get to the floor, and spread my legs? Or will I make it up to the bedroom before you’re all over me?”

Jason froze. “Do you need to reconsider your decision? The door is right behind you if you’d rather divorce now and forfeit the money.”

So cold. Where was the firm but caring Dom she’d fallen for? If she was smart, she’d take him up on this reprieve and walk out the door. But she couldn’t afford to. Besides, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. She’d hurt him, so now he meant to hurt her back. An eye for an eye.

“No. I’m staying until the twenty-fourth.”

For a silent moment, he let her feel the weight of his anger. “Then act like it or we’ll start talking about consequences.”

Gia knew she shouldn’t mouth off to him again, but she had to ask him one thing. “Would your parents be proud of you right now?”

He shifted his weight and seemed to ponder her question. The conclusion he reached apparently amused him. “My father would. He was an absolute bastard who ate other people for breakfast. My mother would expect it. In fact, just a few days ago she suggested that I take you in hand and be firmer in my expectations. I didn’t listen to her much growing up, but I think she might be onto something now.”

His answer horrified her, mostly because he appeared dead serious. Nor did he seem to think his behavior was appalling. Oh god… She wasn’t just in over her head; he’d no doubt drown her before the night was through.

Jason had not only bought her body until their anniversary, he’d bought her soul. She’d sold it to him almost without a fight.

Gia closed her eyes in shame. “I’m wearing a sweater, a bra, and jeans.”

“No panties?” he murmured in her ear as he set her suitcase down and began circling her like a shark. She heard the rustle of him around her, felt his body heat across her skin.

“None.”

“I’m very pleased. Take everything off.”

Her brows drew together as she tensed and tried to find her fortitude. Would it be even harder when she had to spread her legs for him and allow him inside her, knowing he merely wanted revenge? Or would he, like before, overwhelm her with pleasure until she panted and begged? She didn’t know which would hurt more.

Slipping out of her shoes, she stepped onto the textured wood. It was solid, comforting, kind of like the floor in her dad’s den. Gia focused on that as she peeled her sweater over her head and dropped it to the ground. She tried not to think about what she was doing when she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Not that the lace covered much, but as she removed what little protection it afforded, cold hit her nipples. They beaded. She refused to believe it had anything to do with Jason’s blistering stare.

Slowly, Jason reached out and touched her. Gia started with a little gasp. His ghost of a smile haunted her when he ran his knuckles up the curve of her waist, to the swell of her breast, brushing over the sensitive bead. Against her will, a jolt of desire shivered through her system. Her breath hitched.

“Pretty. Soft,” he whispered. “Now lose the jeans so I can see your pussy.”