And I’m finding it impossible not to do the same.
Her hips are jerking up and back in my lap, eyes blind, matching me drive for drive. I look down to where our bodies join and growl at the sight of her swollen clit rubbing on the base of my shaft. And I have no choice but to reach down and use my thumb on it, making her scream and struggle closer, rolling her hips furiously, mouth open on my shoulder. “So big. So big, Daddy.” She heaves a shallow breath. “I’m c-coming…”
Those words tripping over her lips are the end of me. If I’m going to keep my promise and pull out, it has to be now. I want to be the kind of man who makes promises to her and keeps them, so I throw her back down on the mattress and start to ease out, wincing and growling at having to leave her tight perfection, but oh God, then she orgasms.
She climaxes, her cunt ripping around me and she screams, bucking and wrapping her legs around my hips at the same time—and I pop. I bear down, pinning her with my hips and empty my ball sac deep, deep in her clenching channel, my hoarse curses filling the room. I’m cold and hot at the same time, my molars grinding together, seed ripping from my body like it has waited centuries.
“You did this,” I choke out against her ear. “Ride me for broke, tight and sweet as you are, and expect me not to leave it all in this pussy?” I rear back and slam deep, hips bouncing, trying to get out those crucial final drops, deliver them where they belong. And all the while, I’m caught between hating myself for breaking my promise to her and fucking exultant, triumphant over claiming her in this primal way.
Sick. An undeserving bastard.
“Naïve little girl,” I growl, putting the nail in my own coffin. On purpose. She’s going to end up hating me someday, might as well be now.
Yet when the best orgasm of my life finally ebbs, I find myself wrapping Maisy in my arms, pulling her struggling body tight to my chest, panic searing the insides of my throat.
You fucked up. You are fucked up.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp, kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry, angel.”
Her palms cracks across my face. Hard. Making my cheek sting. I welcome the sensation, though, because I deserve it. I deserve worse.
I’ve been completely unaware of the other men for the last few minutes, but when Maisy scrambles off the bed and pulls on her panties, I immediately scan for threats. Instead, I find most of the men are now engaged with the women they purchased for the night. Apparently we were the warm-up show, igniting the desire that is now being quenched. It’s being quenched very quickly, too, most of them guests already in the throes.
Meaning Maisy’s friends will be free to drive her home soon.
Away from me.
No. No no no.
“Maisy,” I say, climbing off the bed and zipping my pants, snatching my shirt off the floor and stuffing it into my back pocket. Watching as she slides her feet back into her delicate white shoes. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
She turns on a heel and glides toward the exit. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I follow her. Of course I do. What just happened between us was not the end of something, it was the beginning. My attempts to stay away, watch her from a safe distance didn’t work and now I can’t. Now I’ll never, ever fucking be able to stay away. “When I made you that promise, I swear to God, I meant to keep it.”
“But you didn’t,” she tosses over her shoulder.
“I couldn’t.” I grip her elbow and spin her around, gather her face, her hair in my hands, trying to touch all of her at once. “You were there, angel. You felt what I did. Do you think you could have climbed off my cock right before you came?”
Her lips pop open, eyes turning glassy with renewed desire. “If you couldn’t keep the promise, you shouldn’t have made it.”
“You’re right.” She tries to stomp off again, but I yank her back up against me, growing hard over the soft valleys that lock to my muscles. I slide my hand up the back of her dress and wedge it inside her panties, petting her bottom, refusing to let the argument diffuse the intimacy between us for even a second. “Agree to be mine, Maisy,” I say against her lips. “Say you’re mine, let me keep you, and I won’t come again until you allow it. Not even by my own hand. Not even if you make me wait years. Torture me for breaking my promise, just don’t leave like everyone els—”
I break off before I can say too much.
Before I can reveal how truly pathetic and unlovable I am.
A kid abandoned at a fire station at birth and lost in the system, never to be claimed.
A man double-crossed by his business partner and best friend.
The purest asshole she’ll ever meet, just as I claimed.
“Please, Maisy.” She’s looking at me with budding sympathy, which I never wanted, so I distract her by sliding my hand further into her panties, cupping her sex from behind. “You’re already mine, just say the words.”
She wets her lips, swaying toward me.
I have her.
I’m going to take her home, worship her forever, convince her somehow that I’m worth a damn—
“Maisy,” a female voice calls. Followed by another one.
I turn and glance over my shoulder to find the girls who brought her here—thus putting them firmly in the enemy category—hustling toward us.
“Are you okay?” they ask in unison, splitting curious glances between us.
I bare my teeth when Maisy rips out of my hold, shaking herself as if she’s coming to her senses. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I’m fine.” She pushes back the long, dark hair that came loose from her bun while we made love. “Can we go home now?”
“No,” I growl.
“Yes,” she fires back. “You got what you paid for. Now it’s over.”
“This will never be over,” I vow, holding her eyes.
“How does she get her money?” one of the girls asks, both of them flanking Maisy.
I pride myself on my ability to read a situation and it’s obvious that—as much as I’d like to—unless I carry Maisy out over my shoulder, she’s not coming home with me. And it’s my own goddamn fault for breaking my promise. Earning her trust back has to be my next step and it’s something that can’t be forced.
“Don’t worry, she’ll get it. Along with anything she ever dreamed of.” I make a new promise to Maisy with my eyes. “You’ll hear from me first thing Monday morning.”
I mean everything I say, to the T.
I’ll have the girl who’s captured my heart.
And I’ll play dirty to get her, because it’s the only way I know how.
5
Maisy
I splash my face with cold water, remaining leaned over the sink to watch the droplets fall. Plop. Plop. After my second sleepless night in a row, it’s now Monday morning. Of course I’ve been restless in bed—I have no idea what this new week will bring. Furthermore, my feelings have become a tangled quagmire I have no idea how to straighten out.
For one, I should not have an excited hamster running on a wheel in my stomach over seeing Jack Lincoln again. He’s a bad man. A terrible employer, according to my mother and our pathetically empty bank account. A man who buys women. A man who breaks his promises. So I shouldn’t be mentally selecting my outfit for the day, wondering what would melt the glaciers of his sharp blue eyes. I shouldn’t be short of breath wondering if he’ll touch me again with total possession, total control.