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His voice is deep and rumbly—pure fucking sex. Clearing my throat and standing up to my full five feet three inches of unintimidating height, I put some bass in my voice. “Yes. You need to let him go. Now.”
He chuckles. God, that chuckle. It’s dark and erotic, getting my blood pumping to places it shouldn’t. He stops typing and asks in a deadly quiet voice, “Or what?”
“Or I’ll ca—” I stop and gasp loudly. He turns to face me and I see the horrible scars marring the right side of his face. They’re thick and raised, an angry shade of red and shiny tan skin, stretching from his hairline to his neck, disappearing into his shirt. There are probably more below the collar. He must have suffered terribly, but it’s not the scars that give me pause. It’s his eyes. They’re cold, dark, and empty, like there’s just a black abyss behind the irises. What has he gone through to make him like this?
Lips curving into a bitter smile, he snarls, “You’ll do what? Call the police? He was breaking intomyhome. What would you have me do?”
I can’t find my voice, too busy looking at the painful looking scars on his face. They make me sad for him. He had to be in a lot of pain when he got them and is probably still in pain now, but I pity him less and less as he continues to speak. “Your brother had no business in my home. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him and toss his body in the river. These two,”—he inclines his head to Captor and Driver—“reasoned that I should spare him, but I’m getting sick of him and his fucking complaining. Hewillend up in a river if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.”
Finding my voice after the threat on my brother’s life, I retort in a stern voice, “I will call the police if you threaten my brother again.”
He looks to the left and shakes his head. I look to my right to see what that was about, but Captor’s face is impassive. When I turn around, the beast of a man stands from his desk and takes his jacket off. And holy hell, what a sight. The man is …fuck.
I don’t have long to dwell on his impressive body. Before I know it, he strides over to me, wraps a hand around my throat, and squeezes with enough force to get my attention. He pulls me into his body, bringing my face close to his. I gasp from fear and something hot unfurls in my belly. Why is him manhandling me making me feel … things? His enormous hand around my neck feels warm and surprisingly good, even though the size of it scares me. He could choke the life out of me right now. My hand flies up to his automatically and I see his eyes flare, even though they’re still cold as fuck.
Quickly covering his reaction, he narrows his eyes and says with displeasure, “Threaten me with the police again, and I will haveyoutossed in the river. Hope you can swim.”
I cannot, so that prospect is daunting. The mere thought of going into a river fills me with fear, just like I felt the day my parents died, and I barely made it out alive. He holds me for a few more seconds, squeezing tighter, and I feel a moan try to bubble up from my terrified throat. Thankfully, he lets me go before it does and I drop to the floor, knees weak because he could have killed me if he really wanted … and to hide that I’m half hard.
“Leave my office. I’ll figure out what I want to do with your brother.” I try to plead with my eyes that I need him to let Cris go, grabbing at his feet, so he won’t walk away before I can beg. Even though he barely tolerates me, Cris is still my brother. He’s been my guardian since I was eight. He’s been the only constant in my life since we lost our parents, and our grandparents were already dead by then. There’s no way I can lose my last living family.
“Please,” I beg, “I’ll do anything. Just let him go.”
The Beast shakes me off like it’s nothing and sits back at his desk. I stay down on the floor, not wanting to give up my begging just yet. “You have nothing I want,” he says with a wave of his hand.
“Me,” I whisper, closing my eyes at what I’m saying. “You don’t have me.” My voice is louder and stronger. “In exchange for my brother, you can have … me.”
He tilts his head to the side and it’s all I can do to maintain eye contact. The right eye is pulled down a bit where the scars are and they barely miss the corner of his lip on the right side, leaving it unmarred. “You’d trade yourself for your brother?”
“I would,” I answer in a shaky voice.
“And how long would you be giving yourself to me? What would that entail?” He runs his eyes over my face and his lips go flat. “How old are you?”
How long is long enough for my brother to be free? How many days, weeks, or months would I trade for him?
“A year,” I tell him.
I’ll have to take some time off at school unless the Beast allows me to continue to go. I’m willing to do what I can so he’ll free Cris. I can always go back and finish my last semester when I’m free of this obligation. I would have to take out a loan to get it finished—something I’ve been able to avoid with various scholarships, but scholarships don’t allow you to skip a few semesters. “And it entails … whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me, please.”
As an afterthought, I add, “I’m twenty-two.”
If I wasn’t looking right at him, I wouldn’t have spotted the slight twitch of his lips. But it doesn’t reach his cold eyes, so I don’t know if what I saw was real.
“What makes you think I want to do anything to you?” he asks, and I sigh, humiliated that I’m still on my knees. I start to stand, but he says, “Stay. I like you down on your knees.” I gasp, shocked that I want to listen, and because my dick twitched when he said it. I sink back on my heels and he takes me in.
“How do you even know I want you?” I feel my face heat. He might not be into men, but it’s worth a try.
I shrug, eyes on the floor, feeling self-conscious, but trying not to let it show. “I don’t. I have to do what I can for my brother. If you want me and my body—and a year of my life is what it takes,” I look up and swallow heavily as I look at his cold, dark eyes. “I can do a year with you.”
His eyes go flinty, and I think he took what I said the wrong way. It’s not his scars that scare me. He’s actually quite good-looking, even with them. But they look like they’ve made him hard, and that hardness makes his eyes feel glacial. His cruel gaze aimed at me would be hard to take for a year. Not his scars.
It’s obvious I’m right because his voice is cold when he spits out, “I’m sure it’ll be hard for you, living in a mansion, having free run of the house and privacy, only having to suck my cock once a week.” My dick jerks and I’m upset I have such tight pants on—they do nothing to hide the bulge that’s growing. “You can handle it.” My cock twitches again, wondering about his dick—what it looks like, how big it is, if it’s thick, if it’ll stretch my mouth and hit the back of my throat. I haven’t fucked yet, but I’m pretty good at blowjobs.
The Beast behind the desk takes my silence the wrong way. This guy is big on assumptions. His eyes turn to daggers, boring into me. “If you’re mine for a year, that’s one of the things I will want from you. Get used to it.” I nod and he says quietly, breaking my heart, “You won’t have to look at me when you do it.” I nod again, not wanting him to misconstrue anymore of my words.
Just to be clear, I chance asking him, “Is that all you want? Your cock sucked once a week? For a year?”
“A few times a week,” he says offhandedly. He has a gleam in his eyes, but I’m not sure what it means. “I have a healthy appetite.” I roll my eyes, but I nod. Again, what can I say?No, I can’t suck your dick, so kill my brother?Not gonna happen. “And maybe more. We’ll see if you’re good enough at sucking my dick totakemy dick.” Hol-lee fuck! If I weren’t in a room full of strange men, I might have moaned. Taking his dick? Am I ready for that? He’s sure sparked my interest, that’s for sure.
