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CHAPTER 15

AURORA

H oly shit. It really was loaded.

My vision blurred as my ears rang from the sound of the gun and shattered glass. I only knew I had missed when I saw Roman charge toward me. As he circled around the black marble conference table, a flash of lightning illuminated the dimly lit room. The bright spark of white light gave his lowered brow and sharp jawline an evil appearance.

With a scream, I threw the gun onto the table and tried to run to the other side of the room.

Roman launched himself onto the table and slid across to my side.

I dragged one of the black leather chairs into his path.

He kicked it out of the way. As I was dragging another chair into his path, he reached for me.

His strong arm wrapped around my waist. I screamed and kicked out.

He flipped me on my back onto the smooth stone surface of the table.

Reaching over my head, he pushed the gun further down the table, out of my reach.

He placed his hands on either side of my head and leaned in. His breath smelled like mint and brandy. “You’ve been a very bad little kitty. I’m going to have to punish that tight pussy of yours.”

Tears escaped out of the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away and stiffened my resolve. Curling my hand into a fist, I struck out, aiming for the side of his head.

He snatched my wrist before I could make contact. Stretching my arm high over my head, he pinned my wrist to the table as he wedged his hips between my legs. With his free hand, he gripped the V-neck of my T-shirt.

I gasped. “No! Don’t!”

I was too late.

He tore the flimsy shirt straight down the middle. My lace-covered breasts spilled out. I tried to cover them with my free arm, but he grabbed that wrist as well and pinned it over my head.

He leaned down and swept his tongue between my breasts, tasting my skin as if I were a dish of ice cream. “Try to hit me again and I won’t just lick… I’ll bite,” he warned.

I could feel the press of his hard cock against the juncture of my thighs. My breath came in rapid, short bursts. “Please, let me go. I’m sorry I tried to kill you. I didn’t mean it.”

He leaned up. For one rash moment, I thought he was actually going to let me go.

He placed his fingers inside the waistband of my leggings. “That’s alright, baby girl. You’re going to make it up to me right now.”

Stepping from in between my legs, he yanked on my leggings, pulling my panties down with them. As he wrenched them off my legs, my soaked ballet slipper flats went with them. I was now lying on the cool marble surface with just the tattered remnants of my T-shirt and my bra.

Seizing my moment, I flipped onto my stomach and tried to crawl across the top of the massive conference table away from him.

He wrapped his hands around my ankles and pulled me back.

A sharp pain had me crying out as he gave my ass several punishing smacks before flipping me onto my back. The cold marble was small comfort to my punishment-heated skin as Roman spread my legs and once again stepped between them. Despite him already having seen my pussy last night, I still felt exposed and humiliated at his intense scrutiny. His eyes never left mine as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it.

You’d never have guessed that he was a businessman. He had the body of an athlete, all tanned hard muscle. The expert cut of his expensive suits hid his rather bulky frame well. He didn’t have the look of a lean man who lived in luxury in the city, but rather the built-up frame of someone who worked outside in the fields with their hands. It made him looked uncivilized. I was actually surprised he wasn’t inked with tribal tattoo markings. It would have fit his almost primal appearance.

He placed a flat palm on my bare stomach. “I wanted to do this properly, in a bed, but apparently you need to be reminded who owns you.”

Oh, God.

My body shook with a twisted mixture of fear and anticipation as his hand slowly moved to cup my pussy. My thighs clenched as I imagined what it would feel like for him to force his fingers inside of me again. I swear I felt the imprint of his touch for hours after he left last night. It was as if he’d branded me. This was nothing like when Alfred tried to force his hand between my legs earlier. My body didn’t respond to his touch like it did to Roman’s. Despite my fear, I could feel myself getting embarrassingly wet.

His fingertip traced the seam of my pussy, taunting me, as his other hand lowered the zipper on his trousers. He pulled his cock free. Even in his large hand, his shaft was massive. His skin had a terrifying purple tint as his cock engorged with blood. He wrapped his fingers around its girth and pumped them up and down in the same rhythm he was using to tease my pussy.

I fisted my hands at my sides as I turned my head to the right.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he commanded.

I bit my lip, willing myself to keep my head turned away.

Without warning, he slapped the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “I said, eyes on me.”

With a cry, I turned my head to stare up at his forbidding form.

He stepped closer until our bodies touched. He then rubbed the head of his shaft against me. “If you had been a good little girl, I would have kissed and licked this sweet pussy of yours.”

He shifted his hips, applying more pressure. “But you were a very bad little girl.”

Horrified at what he might do, I blurted out, “I’m a virgin!”

I’m not sure what I hoped to accomplish by telling him that. Maybe he would take pity on me and let me go? Maybe he would shy away from having sex with a virgin as opposed to a more experienced woman?

He smiled. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

He leaned over my body. His knuckles pressed against my inner thigh as he pushed the head of his cock toward my untried pussy. “I warned you.”

Tears streamed down the sides of my face even as I felt my pussy get embarrassingly wet. “What do you mean?”

The head of his cock pressed into me. “I warned you that the next time you tried to fight me… I wouldn’t be so nice.”

His hands cupped my raised knees as he pushed my legs open even wider, spreading me open for him. “Time to make you truly mine.”

He thrust forward.

My back arched as I let out a guttural cry. The pain was sharp and piercing. I could feel my body stretch around his thick shaft as he pushed deep inside of me. I blindly reached out. My nails scratched deep bloody trails down the front of his chest as I fought my body’s submissive arousal.

He pulled back and thrust again. This time it felt even deeper. My inner thighs clenched around his hips, pulling him in closer even as my mind tried to fight the attraction. He pressed his body over mine as he ran his open mouth up the side of my neck before harshly whispering into my ear, “You feel that, kitten? That’s the only fucking cock you’ll ever know.”

His thrusts increased in speed. Slowly, my body adjusted to his thick girth.

He reached between us and yanked my bra down, exposing my breasts. He took one erect nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, scraping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. I groaned as my head shifted from side to side. I could feel my body respond to his rough handling like it craved the pain of his touch.

“I want you to come on my cock,” he commanded before claiming my mouth.

His tongue dueled with mine. Tasting, licking, dominating. His teeth sank into my bottom lip so hard I tasted the coppery tang of blood.

All the while the pounding rhythm of his thrusts beat my body into submission.

He moved his open mouth over the edge of my jaw and down my neck. He flicked his tongue over the rapid pulse at the base of my throat before seizing my other nipple.

Of their own volition, my hands tore into his hair, pulling hard. On some base level, I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting me.

The weight of his body pinned me down as my legs wrapped around his waist. In my demented lust I was actually pulling him closer to me.

Nothing in any movie or romance novel had prepared me for the all-consuming feel of having his flesh pierce my own.

His hand reached between our bodies and caressed my clit. The added stimulation was more than I could take. My breath came in harsh gasps as my back arched. The pressure built with each deep thrust.

“That’s it, baby girl. Come for me. Come on my cock.”

I wanted so badly to deny him, to deny my body’s needs, but in the end, he was too strong.

As one of his hands teased my clit, his other hand wrapped around my throat. He didn’t squeeze. He didn’t have to. Just the feel of his fingers pressing into my neck, the threat of it, was enough. It was just like with his silk tie, or how he choked me with his cock. There was something horrifyingly arousing knowing he controlled the very air I breathed. He was a demon god, and I was just his weak human pawn.

An orgasm was torn from me. Even as waves of pleasure made me lightheaded with euphoria, I hated myself and him. He thrust several more times. I gazed up at him through half closed eyes. The moment he came he clenched his jaw and threw his head back, seeming to swallow his own scream of pleasure. I marveled at how the muscles in his neck and chest tensed moments before he briefly collapsed on top of me. I found the weight of him strangely comforting but it was short-lived.

As if hating the moment of vulnerable intimacy, he pulled back.

He loosened my legs from around his waist and took a step back.

A chill ran over my body as he surveyed my used form.

He spread my legs open wide. I looked down past my stomach and was alarmed to see crimson smears marring the white skin of my inner thighs.

Keeping his dark gaze locked on mine, he leaned down low. He opened his mouth and stretched out his tongue. As I looked on with macabre fascination, he tasted my virgin blood. He growled, “Tastes like you’re mine now.”

With a cry, I backed away from him, sliding along the body-warmed marble. I clasped my arms across my chest as I crawled off the table. Placing a chair between us, I stared at the smear of blood left behind. I couldn’t help thinking this marble table was a modern-day altar of greed and power and my own virgin blood had been spilled on it as a sacrifice.

As I watched him zip up his trousers, I snatched his discarded shirt and shoved my arms in it before hastily buttoning it up. Skirting a wide circle around him, I then picked up my wrinkled leggings and panties from the floor and put them on. I grimaced as the cold wet leather of my ballet shoes squished when I pushed my feet inside. Fully dressed, I finally dared a quick glance in his direction under my lashes. He was standing there watching me intently with those dark, unreadable eyes of his.

Fighting back tears, I whispered, “I want to go home.”