Page 27
“What were the girls doing if not dancing, Borden?”
“Yes, they were dancing, but I wasn’t fucking them with my eyes, doll. I was talking business while you were out there getting drunk with the likes of Hawke.”
“Again, I’m not drunk,” I retorted. “And why would you have girls in the room talking business when Hector specifically said something like” – I made air quotes – “‘bitches belong outside the door and on their knees’?”
“Because Hector is a shit-stirring ass-wipe. But I see what’s happening here. You heard I was in here with the girls, and you decided to get back at me –”
“Now you’re really thinking the fucking worst of me!”
He suddenly spun me around, gripping my shoulders with both hands, forcing me against him as he looked furiously down at me. “You could have went straight to the office, could have finished out some fucking paperwork you’re behind on, instead of fucking around with my closest guards, in the arms of one of them to fucking boot –”
“I fell and he caught me.”
“I’d rather he wasn’t close enough to catch you, doll.”
“Are you saying you would have rather me hurt myself?”
“I would have rather you avoided a drink altogether.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? Is that what’s happening?”
He gritted his teeth, leaned his head closer to mine and seethed, “Yeah, I am fucking jealous. I can feel it everywhere, in my bloodstream, pounding inside my brain like a fucking brick to my skull – and all I keep thinking about is that fucking look on your face when he fucking caught you. I’m pissed by that fucking look, Emma. I want to bend you over this fucking couch, tear that hair out of your skull, pound my dick inside you and fucking remind you who you should be giving that look to. That’s the extent of my jealousy.”
I was too gobsmacked to respond. My heart battered inside my chest, and I grasped for words. Grasped so hard, my brain hurt. Nothing intelligent came out, except a trembling, “You shouldn’t have done that to Hawke. It wasn’t his fault. We’d just made amends and…”
“Let’s get this straight, Emma. He’s not your friend. Neither is Graeme. They will never be your friends. They’re my workers and they’re protecting you.”
“That’s not true. Graeme means a lot to us. He’s always been there.”
“He’s there because I pay him to be.”
“I don’t believe that, and I don’t believe that’s how you feel about your men, either.”
Borden’s face tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not a good guy, Emma. Just because you tear me up inside, it doesn’t mean I’m soft. If either of them betray me tomorrow, I’ll put a bullet through their fucking heads. If Hawke looks at you the way he did ten minutes go, I’ll bind him to a chair and feed him his own dick. I am not a good man. Outside of you, I feel nothing for anybody.”
He didn’t give me an opportunity to question that. He let me go and stepped back. “Climb on the couch,” he then said. “Knees spread apart, chest against the cushion.”
My heart quickened. “Why?”
He cocked his head to the side, looking at me like I was an idiot. “I just told you I wanted to bend you over on the couch and fuck you.”
“You mean punish me.”
His lips pulled up in a devilish smirk, and before I could respond, he grabbed at his belt and unbuckled it, slipping it off in one swift movement. With the belt still in one hand, he used the other to grab my arm and spin me around. He shoved me toward the couch, the expectation clear in that one movement. But I didn’t climb it. I stood still, facing the couch, tentatively listening to him.
I wasn’t going to do it, I decided. I was still too angry at him, and for being told to get into a sexual position in a room that was minutes ago occupied by naked girls and him. Fuck him.
“Are you really going to make this difficult?” he asked me. “Do you want me to hurt you?”
“I want to hurt you,” I seethed, irately. “For being such a fucking asshole.”
“You’re just pissed because of the girls.”
“I’m pissed at the girls, at the way you talked to Hawke, at how much you pretend not to care for other people.”
He neared, until his front lingered neat my back. I felt my hair gather into his hand, and he tugged harshly at it. My head shot back, and his teeth grabbed at my earlobe. He bit once before letting go and whispering, “Get on the couch.”
“You can’t erase everything with fucking, Borden.”
“I’m not trying to erase anything by fucking you, Emma. I’m solidifying the fucking facts.”
“What facts?”
“That you belong to me. That you’ll never be touched by another man again. That you’re fucking mine not because I’m demanding it, but because you want to be too. And the girls, Emma? They fucking mean nothing to me. And deep inside you know that.”
Before I could reply, he pushed me down, and I went willingly. I did belong to him, in every dirty way possible. I couldn’t deny that no matter how angry I was. I heard him unzip his pants, heard his breaths come out in harsh sounds as he drew closer to me.
“Don’t fucking drink without me near you again,” he told me. “Got it?”
I nodded.
He grabbed my skirt and forced it over my hips, and then he grabbed my underwear and tore it off, throwing it somewhere nearby. His hands grabbed at my ass, kneading my flesh before delivering a harsh smack against one side. I flinched and my mouth parted. The sting felt good, especially as he began rubbing the crease down my ass and all the way to my pussy. He remarked under his breath how wet I was, how sore I was going to be, how we were going to have dinner tonight and I would have to hide the pain he’d leave me in.
I shut my eyes, savouring his words before he firmly gripped me by the hips and shoved himself inside me. There was nothing delicate about it. He fucked me hard and fast, leaning over my bent body to bite and suck at whatever exposed flesh there was of me. His strokes moved deep inside. I felt his balls slapping against me, ravaging me with every slide of his long and thick cock inside me. That magical piercing of his always added an extra spark to the mix. I squirmed as the pleasure became almost too unbearable to take, and then I exploded, the walls around him tightening as I rode out my pleasure.