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He chuckled when she tried arching against him, to buck him away.
The woman was so thin—she barely weighed one hundred thirty pounds, he suspected. Was only five seven or so. Very thin, fragile, delicate. Beautiful.
There was no way she could fight a man off. Even one of his advanced years. Not if that man was intent on getting what he wanted.
Gregory most certainly was.
Bonita would learn. Would stop fighting him eventually.
Gregory had always wished Denita had been more of a fighter.
Instead of just letting life and bad circumstances control her. If she had just fought, or pushed through...
But Denita had not been extremely resilient. Most likely from watching her mother's murder when she was barely three or four years older than Oakley. That trauma had stayed with Denita her entire life. Shaped her. Helped destroy her.
Gregory did his best to hold Bonita down. She was fighting, bucking wildly. Wiggling.
He laughed.
He was enjoying himself, feeling the beautiful woman he wanted so desperately pressing against him, no denying that. He might be in his sixties, but he was still aman,after all. A healthy one.
He was probably going to have to sedate her again. He needed to wrap the fractured wrist more appropriately, certainly. He had hoped to avoid sedating her again so soon. But the fire in her eyes—
His body tightened in anticipation. He wanted to kiss her. To taste Bonita's fire like he had her sister’s sweetness so long ago.
He tried. He held her face still with one hand.
Bonita bit at him. He pulled back. Laughed again.
Oh, she was going to fill his life with passion. He was greatly looking forward to that.
What would she think when she saw the two young children thathehad createdjustfor her? He couldn’t wait to see her holding them, mothering them. Caring for them like she did the patients in PICU.
He had created them for Denita, but Bonita…would raise them now. Would help him raise them to greatness.
As fiercely as she fought for young Crispin, she would be a beautiful mother to the children. Yes. Together, they would raise the children to beperfect.
So much better than the rest.
He would most certainly keep his beautiful Bonita. If she behaved, he would eventually let her have Crispin with her again, perhaps.
Yes, he would keep that one, he decided. Use young Crispin as incentive to keep Bonita under control. At least at first. The girl was certainly expendable. Now that he knew she too was flawed. She should not be allowed to reproduce, definitely not.
Having Bonita under his complete control despite what she desired most—yes. He wanted that very much. He would enjoy forcing Bonita to do things against her will, using herlovefor Denita’s daughter as incentive. The control, the power, that would bring! He had always loved dominating and controlling his lovers when he could.
That girl would be useful, after all. If not for her eggs—he could not risk passing on that defective gene, possibly from her sperm donor, for her eyes—but for her intelligence. He would get rid of that damned nanny upstairs now and replace her with a young woman of far superior intelligence.
The girl would be compliant as well. Of course, she would. He had hermother,after all.
She would not want him to possibly harm Bonita. He could create an even more perfect educational environment to surround his children. And she could help Gregory care for his Bonita, doing things the older woman would find to stressful or physically taxing with the children.
Gregory, Bonita, Crispin and the two younger children, they would be thefamilyGregory had always wanted. Had alwaysdeserved.
But first... "You must stop fighting me, Denita. You must. We have many things to do tonight."
"I am not Denita. And I never will be!"
Bonita kicked him.
