Owned (Blood Ties Book 4)

This time, Vivienne, please wear the damn clothes…

He’d said please. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror with those words ringing in my head, he’d said please…

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I stared at the stranger in front of me. I’d set out to do the bare minimum just to spite him, but this…this was so not that. Instead of smoky and black, I was…understated. Blushed. Gold shimmering highlights against my cheeks made my skin look sun-kissed. I brushed the glimmer along the line of my shoulders with the thick brush before I put it back down and glanced at the clock.

It was almost eight and the captive was about to go…where? I had no idea. But it was somewhere. A thought pushed in, cold and slippery like an eel. One that made me feel sick. Was it to one of those parties the men from The Order took the other girls to? The ones where they came back traumatized and used by too many men to count? Was London St. James about to break me?

My stomach clenched. The glaring white overhead lights made the bathroom sway. He wanted me to wear black, right? And not just the dress either. The lingerie he’d placed next to the garment was black too. Soft black velvet matching panties and bra—if you could call them that.

The bra cups were nothing more than a cage around my breasts, leaving my nipples exposed under the dress, and the panties were no better. The soft velvet straps plunged between my thighs and wrapped around my waist, crisscrossing over the flesh of my ass. There was only one reason he wanted me to wear this. I reached out and grabbed the vanity as I tried to steady myself on the dangerously high stilettos. Because he wanted to expose me to others.

Owned, right?

Three million dollars owned.

He needed to get his money’s worth somehow.

Run…the thought gripped me. Run…where? My mind turned to Ryth and the messages I’d shared with her. Ones that London had set up for me.

I met my own gaze in the mirror. He wouldn’t do that if he was going to hurt me, right?

He wouldn’t do all of—I stared at the stunning black dress in the mirror—this.

Everything about him screamed the opposite of what those men did. He wasn’t a man who shared anything, not that I’d seen, unless it came to his sons…and now me. I inhaled deep and straightened as I fought the stab of fear inside me. I had to trust he wouldn’t do that, but if there was anything I’d learned with the man, it was trusting London would only get you in trouble. Or worse…killed.

I made my way out of the bathroom.

If I couldn’t trust, then I’d fight and run if it came to that. I’d cut his goddamn tracker out myself, with my nails if I had to. Until then, I’d play his games. I smoothed the dress down, fluffed the strands of my hair nervously, then went to the door.

And I’d make sure I was the one in control.

The house was quiet when I stepped out of my room. Quiet and…eerie. I gripped the banister and made my way downstairs, the elegant dress skimming the stairs behind me until I hit the foyer. Then I saw him standing with his back to me at the entrance to the kitchen.

My gaze moved down his body, taking in his immaculate black shirt and tight trousers that hugged the hard curve of his ass and every inch of his thick, masculine thighs. I couldn’t stop staring, even as he sensed me and turned, then I was fixed on the swell of his cock. Fuck, he was big, wasn’t he? Jesus…

Heat flushed my cheeks. I forced myself to look away, to meet those intense dark eyes instead. He said nothing as I walked toward him, not a ‘you’re late’, or ‘you look beautiful’. No, he just stared.

But as I neared the entrance to the kitchen, I realized he wasn’t heading for the door. The waiter from earlier was there, though, moving around in the kitchen behind London as he poured two glasses of champagne. Then it hit me. We weren’t going anywhere, were we? The dinner was…here.

Then, if it was here, who else was coming?

I tried to keep my panicked thoughts from conjuring vile scenarios as London lowered his gaze, taking in the damn dress he’d so desperately wanted me to wear. A dress I both hated and wanted to wear forever. I knew I looked different, but the asshole could at least try not to gawk.

Well, say something! I unclenched my jaw, ready to snap, until there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth and it inched higher. That devilish smirk hit me right between my thighs. My pulse surged and heat rushed to my cheeks, forcing me to look toward the dining room behind him.

He grabbed the two glasses of champagne from the waiter and motioned me to the table. I followed, scanning the empty chairs. “This was for us?”

“No, Vivienne.” He placed my drink on the table and pulled out my chair. “This was for you.”

For me?

There were no other place settings laid out. Still, I was nervous as I sank into the chair. “Is it just us then?”

“The sons are out,” he answered as he took his own seat at the head of the table opposite me. “They’ll return later, if that’s what you’re asking.”

My face burned as I nodded. Still, he saw the reaction as I looked at the empty seats.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his focus narrowing in on me.

In that moment, I understood just how dangerous it was to be the sole object of his attention. I flinched, then shook my head. “Nothing.”

“You looked almost terrified,” he murmured carefully. “So it must be something.”

The heat in my cheeks burned hotter as I met that stare. “I thought you might…have guests.”

“Guests?”

“Yeah, guests.” I tried to hide my shame by grabbing the champagne. “I’ve seen what happens to the girls they take out from The Order, and I’ve seen them what they look like when they came back, too.”

He knew…I saw it in the flinch as he asked carefully. “And you think I’d do that to you?”

I held his stare. “I don’t know, do I?”

When he spoke, his voice was etched with disdain. “I might be many things, Vivienne. But I’m never like that. You are…”

Mine…

That unspoken word roared between us as the waiter neared and placed a plate down in front of me.

That’s what he wanted to say, wasn’t it? That I belonged to him. Three million dollars, remember? Heat burned in my cheeks again as the waiter straightened.

“Pan-seared sea scallops in brine butter sauce,” he announced softly.

I didn’t look away from London, just answered, “Thank you.”

Tension built between us as the waiter placed London’s plate down and left without another word. I watched London out of the corner of my eye, and each careful movement goaded me as he slowly picked up his utensils and ate in goddamn silence.

Everything about him was silent.

Moody.

Volatile.

Quiet.

I did the same, stabbing the scallop before I hacked it with my knife and shoved it into my mouth. I didn’t taste the goddamn brine butter sauce, I was too busy choking on the bitter tang of rage. I chewed and swallowed, chasing the food down with the champagne until I’d drained the glass. Then the waiter was there, appearing out of nowhere to pour me another.

Still, I was fixed on the flare of his chiseled jaw as London savored each bite, then glanced at my plate. “You’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?” He lowered his gaze to the dress, and to my breasts. “Because I know you are.”

That fire ignited. “You seem to know a lot about me.”

“I do.”

So. Fucking. Smug. I just wanted to smack that knowing twinkle out of his eyes. I clenched my jaw and forced the words out. “Then you also know I’ll figure out what you want with me.”

A brow rose. “You will?”

You will? He goaded me until I just wanted to… “Yeah.” I grabbed my champagne again. “I will.”

I lifted the glass to my lips, but this time, I didn’t drink. Instead, I licked the drop that collected on the outside of the glass, chasing it with my tongue. That slowly wiped the smirk from his face. That hunger burned between us once more as if it hadn’t ever really left.

“Take it out, London.” I held his stare. “Take it out of me now.”

He shifted his gaze from my lips to my breasts as I slowly rose from the seat. “Take it out or I’ll claw it out.”

Those infernal eyes didn’t leave mine as I stalked along the table toward him. Suddenly, I realized what this was. It was payback from when he’d dragged me to that roof and made me watch as Ryth and her brothers were hunted down. Anger spurred me on until I was heady with the rush.

London carefully placed his napkin down next to his plate and slowly rose. “I’d rather put something else in you.” He turned to me. “How about that?”

I froze as fear punched through me. “What?”

“You heard me.” He grabbed me around the waist and lifted.

I bucked for a second, pushing against him before he plonked me hard on the table. My hands flew backwards, my fingers skidding against the glass top. In an instant, I was back outside that house of horrors with his hands everywhere. Only this was different. He didn’t flinch, just grabbed my waist and yanked me hard against him.

He looked down, his stare taking in every inch of me. “Fuck me, you are annihilating.”

I tried to shove him away as he reached down, slid his hand into the slit of the dress, and captured the back of my thigh. My legs were parted by the force of his body. I could feel every hard inch of him bulging against his trousers.

“So fucking perfect, aren’t you, wildcat?” He swept my dress aside, exposing my entire lower body.

That ravenous stare raked every inch of what he’d paid for as his thumb skimmed the black strap of my panties that ran around my waist. Get out of this…get out— “But you can’t, can you?” I snarled.

Movement came in the corner of my eye. The waiter slipped into the room, not once glancing our way as London manhandled me.

That only made the rage in me burn hotter. I fixed that rage on the man who ran his hands along my bare thighs. “You can’t do a damn thing, or they’ll take me.”

I enjoyed the dangerous glint in his eyes, maybe a little too much. “But I’m sure I could find someone who could ease the ache in me.” I glanced at the waiter, and licked my lips. “If you’re not able.”

A savage sound slipped from London. He grabbed my face, fingers cruelly digging into my jaw as he tilted my gaze to his. “And his blood would be on your hands. Just remember that.”

There was no trace of the man I’d seen a second ago.

The man who’d been dangerously calm and controlled…

Someone else stood in his place now. Someone ruthless…and desperate. A shiver of fear coursed through me as he lifted my calf, placing my heel on the edge of the table, the movement forcing me backwards. “I’d gut him, Vivienne…I’d spill his blood all over this fucking table if he even looked at you.”

The memory of the pear came roaring back to me. The way he’d wielded the knife, slicing pieces to place on the desk in front of me. Panic stole my breath as he skimmed his thumb down my crease and gently massaged the swollen flesh around my clit as the waiter poured champagne into London’s glass, then left.

I bit down on a moan, hating his hands on me. “Let’s see if I can do something about that ache, shall I?” he murmured.

I shook my head, slowly thrashing it from side to side. “No,” I moaned as he grabbed my other heel and lifted it to the table until I lay on my back, my knees bent, my pussy on display. “I fucking hate you,” I whimpered.

“I know you do,” he answered in that cold, sinister tone. “I can feel how much you hate me right now. Such a pretty little cunt.” He rubbed and rubbed, stoking that fire.

“No.” I slammed my thighs closed, catching his hand against me.

“No?” he murmured, tugging his hand out from my body to yank a chair out before he sat. My pussy may as well be served on a fucking plate for him. But he didn’t stop rubbing with his other hand wedged in tight. “Even if I can’t fuck you, Vivienne, I’m sure I can do something to ease your need.”

He ran his thumb along the lips of my pussy, and pushed my flesh into my core. “How’s that?”

I clenched my fists, thrashing my head to the side as heat bloomed through me.

“No?”

“No!” I groaned, hanging onto a thin thread of hope. “Jesus, no…no…”

Every stroke, every caress made me desperate to part my thighs. I needed him to look at me, needed his tongue, needed his fingers. Fuck, I needed his cock.

“You going to come for me, wildcat?” he whispered, that low, careful tone tipping me over the edge.

My knees trembled, inching apart.

“That’s the way…show daddy what he paid for.”

I whimpered and bit down on my lip, but it was too late. A trembling, throaty sound tore free as he pushed deeper, running his fingers along the edges of my pussy. “Please…” I whimpered.

“Now that’s a word I could get used to hearing.” He rubbed the outside of my clit. “Show me,” he demanded. “Show me how you please yourself.”

I was already unclenching my fist and reaching down.

“But I want you to look at me when you do it.”

I stopped, my heart hammering, my core dripping. It wouldn’t take much…not if I—

I swallowed hard and pushed upwards, glaring into that infernal stare as my hand continued down. He held my stare, then followed my fingers as they sank deep and slid out. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” His fingers trembled as he tugged, opening my slit to watch. “That’s the girl…get all the way in there.”

Heat bloomed with the words. My body clenched as he rubbed, grinding my lips against my clit. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my brat? My good little fucking brat. I paid good money for you.”

“Three…million…dollars,” I moaned.

He jerked his gaze up, those dark eyes burning with hunger. “Yes, three million dollars…and I would’ve paid more.”

A moan ripped free. He would’ve paid more. I thrust my fingers in and worked my body before I slid out and circled my clit. He would’ve paid more. “How much?”

He leaned down, parted my slit around the trail of my fingers, and licked my clit. “Everything.”

I came under the touch of his tongue. My hips bucked and drove me against his mouth. He grabbed my thighs and forced my body back against the table. “That’s one, wildcat. I’m sure you have a few more in you.” He licked again, and the warmth of his tongue danced around the sensitive flesh.

He pushed my legs wider apart, all the way.

“Fuck me,” he moaned as he sucked gently. “I want inside this cunt. I want you writhing. I want you coming, I don’t care how. My tongue, my cock…my control. You’re going to be my destruction, aren’t you, Vivienne? You’re going to fucking ruin me.” He sucked and drew me into his mouth.

My core clenched and spasmed as I came again…

“And I’ll love every fucking second of it.”