AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He doesn’t respond, instead issuing one of those unsettling, calculating laughs.
This close to him, I’m more tempted than ever to push his buttons and gauge his reaction. It’s either that or relinquish myself to the overwhelming sexuality he exudes without even trying.
So, I position his earlobe between my teeth and bite down. Not hard, just enough to cement the sting of my next words.
“I don’t want your empire, Julian,” I tell him. “I’m more than content with this kind of power.”
I reach between us and undo his fly, freeing his cock in seconds. A rasping grunt resonates through his chest as I take him into my hand. My thoughts race with fears of a poor oblivious salesclerk stumbling in, but I’m willing to trust him in this instance. So, I guide him inside me and quiet the building hunger simmering in my body for now.
Even he can’t accuse me of lying about this—I love riding him. It provides a vantage point of him unlike any other. I can feel his heartbeat raging against mine. Taste the heat of his breath. Hear him groan with every inch I take.
For several agonizing seconds, he lets me pretend to hold the reins. Then he grips my waist and snatches me into him.
The forceful friction compared with the depth he can achieve, takes my breath away. I groan through clenched teeth, fisting handfuls of his hair. The leather chair conforms to our combined weight, and I feel like we’re suspended in some twisted version of heaven where the devil reigns supreme. He has me by the throat, and I’m willing to see just where this latest sin will lead.
Though at the back of my mind, I know that I’m in danger of losing far more than just my proverbial soul.
He presses his lips to mine with a gentleness I don’t expect. Then he pulls back and changes tact. Before I can think to react, his teeth are raking the flesh of my throat between them.
“You are mine, Lupita,” he growls, sealing his claim with a harder bite. “Say it.”
A moan escapes my lips instead, but he won’t let me evade his command that easily.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
When the heady, after-sex glow wears off, he helps me climb from his lap. I expect him to whisk us from the store next, but he surprises me yet again.
“You haven’t made your selections,” he says with dead seriousness. “Surprise me, Lupe. Pick both your favorites and the topics a sexy viper-kitty is eager to learn.”
I take him up on that offer and spend what feels like hours gathering a sizeable collection of volumes. Where he’ll put them? I have no idea. Perhaps he’ll burn them before me in the name of yet another test.
This man is so damn unrelenting in the mystery he likes to present to the outside world. Just when I think I have him figured out, he turns the tables.
Like now.
“You seem shocked, Lupe,” he murmurs into my ear as we return to the house and find an army of movers out front, steadily carrying boxes upon boxes inside.
He delights in my confusion, I think. He loves to catch me off guard, and I try to put on a good show of being unmoved.
But there is no mystery to unravel this time. The objects the movers heft between them are simple enough to make out. Bookshelves. A lot of them, plenty to stock my own private library.
But they aren’t the only new arrival. I can sense a change even before Jaguar remarks, “We will have guests arriving tonight, but we will discuss that later.”
“Guests?” My heart sinks. I hate the crippling, paralyzing fear that creeps over me next, but I can’t resist it. How this man loves to unnerve me right when I think I have him sussed. He’s already devised yet another game.
“You aren’t the one in the cooking pot this time, Lupe,” he says with an uncharacteristic bit of warmth in his voice. Gently, he cradles my chin against his palm, and I almost feel reassured by the gesture. Almost. “You will merely help to put my prey on edge, though you will not understand without some backstory. Backstory I’m not in the mood to give just yet. Come.”
He cuts a path through the wandering workmen and leads me upstairs to his room. Our room. If I didn’t believe that before, he’s taken great pains to drive that point home.
I gape at the subtle but effective changes to the design that make his intentions apparent—even more so than earlier. There are bags strewn over the floor, with partially unpacked mementos all over. His. These are the personal effects he kept hidden from view at his main villa. His books, all tattered with use. His clothing.
“Do you remember the story I told you?” he asks, coming up behind me, hooking his arm around my waist. “About my father?”
I nod. “Yes.” My heart clenches with foreboding. Is this his prelude to yet another mind game at my expense?
As if sensing my train of thought, he cups my chin with his palm, forcing me to meet his gaze directly. “And?”
“And Juan,” I add. “What happened to him.”
