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“I meant business when I said I’d claim you.” There it is again, that manic stare that does wicked things to me.
“You’re mine now, wild flame,” he purrs. “And, by the time this is over, I’m going to watch you burn brighter than you ever have, just for me.”
My thighs clench against my satisfied pussy. Every piece of me wants to ask what happens after this is over. I should be fucking glad to get rid of him as soon as possible, yet something in me wants to claw onto his presence.
My eyes drop from his face to those scars. The man fascinates me, his past like a black hole in history that I feel compelled to explore, even if the prospect chills me to the bone.
“I tried to research your past,” I begin softly. “But the only thing I discovered is that you keep yourself shrouded in mystery. There’s nothing about your childhood, parents, siblings, extended family, where you went to school. Nothing, as if you appeared out of thin air in the city ten years ago.”
“Why would you want to know all that about a man who used you like an animal?” Again, that hint of aggression shrouded in his calm tone. I can’t tell whether what angers him is my digging or the fact that he doesn’t believe I care.
“You’re a puzzle to me,” I admit. “You run the pharma world, and yet the blemishes on your skin scream that some twisted monster went to town on your body. That’s not usually the case for men who wield as much power as you do. They usually come from families where they were protected and pampered.”
He scoffs, popping a grape into his mouth. His jaw ripples when he breaks it between his teeth. I raise an eyebrow.
“You don’t agree?”
“As far as I know, neither of your friends, Jax Vaughn or Declan Santori had easy childhoods.”
“Yes, but they are exceptions.”
He tilts his head to the side, curiosity narrowing his eyes. “What is your experience of other powerful men, then?”
I run through a list of names, faces, and track records of the rich and influential men I know in my head.
“Mostly, even if they don’t come from rich families, they come from influence. They have connections. If that’s not the case either, they worked their way up by making themselves useful to influential people. Maybe the better term would be they worm their way up. Still, none of their methods involves subjecting themselves to torture.” I reach for the coffee pot, but Zayne grabs it before I get to, picks up a cup, and pours the dark liquid for me. The scent of freshly roasted coffee spreads out through the room, infusing me with joy. This breakfast with him feels weirdly perfect.
“And what is one thing you would say all of us have in common?” he inquires, his voice patient. Soft. He’s genuinely interested, in my opinion.
A sense of entitlement comes to mind, but I know that’s not right. If there’s one thing all three of them, Jax, Declan and Zayne definitely lack, it’s that. Yes, entitlement is a sense among people like Joseph, and pretty much everyone I’ve met through him. Men and women, all competing to get the most attention, the most admiration. Trying to stand out.
But that’s the last thing I can say about Jax, Declan or Zayne. If anything, they are the complete opposite of those people. Yet one trait they do have in common.
“Ambition,” I decide. “More than that, a crazy focus on your goals. You all have something to prove.”
“And what do you think I have to prove?”
“You see, that’s the problem. It’s why I’m asking questions about your past. I don’t know enough about you to have a theory.”
“But you’ve already decided on one. You decided I share this trait with the other powerful men you know. That I have something to prove. So use the same data to draw the next conclusion. Work with what you have.”
He pops another grape into his mouth, crushing it between his dangerous teeth. “Besides, having slept with me should count for something, don’t you think?”
I pick up the coffee, holding the saucer in one hand while raising the cup to my lips. I keep my eyes on him over the rim, determined to show him that it does, in fact, count.
“Those scars tell me once upon a time, someone had complete power over you,” I begin after the first sip. “But there’s no violation of the body without a violation of the soul, so I would guess you’re fighting to regain that power. Over yourself, but also them. You’re not someone who lets transgressions go unpunished, that’s for sure. With the amount of clout and financial influence you have, you probably already destroyed the person who did this to you, but that’s not enough. Your bitter side, the boy or young man who went through hell, is never satisfied. He’s always hungry.” I sip, my eyes not leaving his. He’s been listening without blinking, but I can’t read anything in his face beyond a shade of intrigue. If I’m way off, he doesn’t hint at it. I wonder if I should ask about the orphanage now.
But that’s the only lead I have to his criminal experiments, and mentioning it could shut down that lead. I should probably keep my empathy levels to a minimum, too. This is, after all, a dangerous, wicked man.
“Don’t you have anything to say about that?” I press, dying to ease some of the pressure of his scrutiny.
“Oh, I do. That smart mouth of yours makes me very, very hard, wild flame.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?” I insist, frustrated to get so close to answers and find none.
He angles his head as if he were considering it. My chest swells, but before I can get my hopes high, he grabs his raging hard cock.
“Get down on your knees.” The command is rasping, grazing like the talons of a beast down my spine. I take my time with a few sips of my coffee, holding his gaze like I were scrutinizing his past before I set the cup down and let the duvet fall off.
