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Charlotte’s gaze darted over his shoulder and widened. She squinched her eyes closed when the shuffle of men’s feet behind him stopped. He didn’t need to turn around to know Carson, Derek, and Alexander had strode up behind him.
When Richard had asked the other men to join him, his plan was crystal clear. Now, seeing fear in her eyes, he second-guessed himself. It wasn’t a usual state for him. But if he knew one thing, Charlotte’s dreams would return in force now and needed advanced handling. The only way to truly rid Charlotte of them was to flip the script.
He rid her of the wedding dress, kicking it to the side, not giving a shit about it at the moment. Fabric rustled by their feet, the dress likely being dragged away by Sarah. He’d enlisted her help along with the others.
Charlotte’s hair hung messily over her forehead, her lips already bruised from his passionate kisses.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
She dragged her eyes open. So many emotions warred in all that blue. Relief, passion, fear.
But moments like those were his element. Bringing Charlotte back from the brink, as harshly as required, was his forte. His goal grew larger. He would bring her back for good.
His hand cupped hers. “You’re worried.”
She nodded slowly.
“That’s an affront to me. An affront to everyone who loves you standing behind me.”
She blinked, her lips parting. “I didn’t mean—”
“Didn’t mean what? You think someone as small as Wayne Trembill could ever do anything to you again?” Oranyman who wasn’t Richard, for that matter? As if any of their Accendos family would allow such a thing.
He pressed his crotch against hers, instantly thickening on contact. A wave of need swept through him like wildfire, his cock hardening and pressing against his zipper. Her brilliant blue eyes sparked.
The chemistry between them was undeniable. They hadn’t even started, and already, he could unload in his pants like a teenager dry-humping in a backseat. However, years of disciplining his body made that possibility as remote as Wayne ever getting to rest his eyes on Charlotte again. Never mind the guy’s hands.
Richard cupped her face. “You are mine. And only mine.” His gaze dropped quickly to her throat, to the circle of silver that told the world Charlotte was his.
“Yes, Master.” Her lids dropped.
Acquiescing? Responding with a rote honorific? That’s not what he wanted or needed. Not whatsheneeded.
He finally admitted something that had niggled at the edges of his mind for months. She didn’t fully believe she was safe. Years of being terrorized by others had etched into her bones. And he’d had enough of it.
“Master?” His hand trailed down her back and cupped her beautiful bottom. His finger found what it sought. He thrust one finger inside her ass, and she gasped into his mouth. “Then, should I fuck you here? In front of everyone? Or …” His other hand reached down her front, his middle and forefingers spreading her pussy lips open. “Or here?”
Her mouth dropped open, but she didn’t answer. He thrust his fingers inside her pussy. Now speared with both hands, her legs began to tremble. Her arousal was clear, however, by how wet she grew.
“I don’t think I can. Any of it,” she blurted out.
Ah, truth. “You have a safe word.”
She shook her head vehemently.
“Or is it because you don’t believe I’d take care of you? Or because you’re not ready to let go of your fear?” Perhaps she believed it defined her. Kept him around. Made him prove time and again that he would always be there for her. Or she didn’t know who else to be.
“I’ll disappoint you,” she said quickly. “That’s what I thought today. In the show, in … everything. And it hurts knowing I’ll …”
Ah, Wayne’s final lesson. No matter how hard she’d tried to please him, it had not been enough. “Fail? That’s for me to decide. You don’t get to predetermine that.”
He withdrew his fingers. Her legs instantly relaxed, and she sunk against the wall. He pinched one of her nipples, and she cried out.
“Hurt?”
She nodded.
“I feel your pain. Always. You know that?”
