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He turned his face toward mine, watching every move I made. His wide chest expanded with the quiet breaths he took. He glanced at my lips before he returned his gaze to my eyes.
Without thinking, I leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. I kissed the corner of his mouth before I felt his upper lip. His thin lips were delicious against my tongue, and I loved the feel of his mouth. I never thought I could enjoy kissing anyone after what I’d been through.
But I loved kissing him.
The area between my legs was still wet, and his cock was still hard. I didn’t want to invite him back to bed, so I ended the embrace before I changed his mind. When he looked at me with those intense eyes, I dropped my gaze. “Thank you...” He could do whatever he wanted to me, and I had no say in the matter. But he let me go. He listened to me. He treated me more like a person than anyone else. The night could have gone quite differently. But he gave me a choice. He gave me freedom.
He gave me a voice.
Chapter Nineteen
Crow
The fire roared in my office even though it was a warm day. I liked the sound of the crackling flames inside the hearth. It was my form of music, the natural sound of dancing fire.
I kept my mind fixated on work, but that brunette kept weaving her way into my thoughts. Last night, I had her underneath me. She was naked. I was naked. My cock was harder than it’d ever been, and I wanted to ram myself inside her slick pussy.
She liked my kisses. She liked my touch. Her soaked pussy said she liked the way my fingers rubbed her clit. It liked the way I sucked her nipples until they were raw. It liked the way I clenched my teeth against her collarbone, bringing her a little pain in the midst of pleasure.
There was no mistaking her body language—she loved everything.
But she still said no.
I should have kept going. I shouldn’t let this tiny woman tell me what to do. But when she pleaded with me, begged me to stop, I automatically obeyed.
I couldn’t believe it. I actually obeyed someone.
I wanted to cause her pain because it got me so hard. But I wanted her to want to be in pain. I wanted her to like it. And the despair she showed me last night wasn’t what I craved. It was different. I couldn’t explain how.
A knock sounded on my door. I recognized it because I heard it so many times. All my life, I’d been listening to those rattling knuckles.
“Come in.”
Lars walked inside with a black folder under his arm. “A man dropped this off for you. He said you would know what it was about.” He placed it on the end of my desk. “Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”
“Yes. How is she?”
There was only one other person in the house I could be referring to. “I haven’t seen her, sir. She had breakfast and left her tray outside.”
She ate something. That was all I needed to know. “Thank you, Lars.”
He nodded before he walked out.
I opened the folder the moment the door was shut. I hired a guy to get intel on my houseguest. I wanted to know everything about her without asking any questions. I wanted her to know I was God—and I knew everything.
I flipped through the pages and discovered her name.
Pearl.
I loved it. I loved how pure it was. I loved how beautiful it was.
I skimmed more information and found out how she’d become trafficked. She was in St. Thomas when it happened, accompanied by her boyfriend. The idea of her being with someone before me, voluntarily, sent me into a rage of jealousy. I continued reading on so the ferocity would disintegrate. I just got to a piece of information that made it even worse. I reread the words because I couldn’t believe what I saw. My hands shook I was so angry. My hatred nearly matched what I felt for Bones for mutilating my sister—almost.
A knock sounded on the door, interrupting my rampage. It wasn’t Lars, I knew that much. And that meant it was only one other person—Pearl.
She opened the door without being invited and stood there awkwardly, waiting for permission that she wouldn’t get.
I closed the folder and left it on my desk. She caught me at a bad time. If she were anyone else, they would take off as quickly as possible. Even Lars would leave, understanding my rage better than most people.
She entered my office and eyed the fireplace against the opposite wall. She wore one of the Tuscan dresses Lars picked out for her. It looked perfect on her, like she was born and raised on the beautiful hillside. “Are you busy?”
