Kingpin's Property, page 11
He reached out and petted my hair, and I leaned into his touch, hungry for more of his attention.
“Good girl. I hope you’re still this sweet when I return. I suspect you might be in a slightly sourer mood.” He chuckled. “But you’ll still be happy to see me. Because the only way you get an orgasm is if I allow it.” He rested his palm on my ankle. “That devious little toy has the added benefit of deterring you from walking around. I think you’ll find the sensation quite unbearable if you can’t attain release. I have to make sure you heal up properly, sweet pet. I’ll always take good care of you.”
Unease stirred in the depths of my consciousness. My mind churned, struggling for coherent thought through the sapping weight of his sensual control.
He leaned in for one last deep, breathtaking kiss, sending my budding thoughts scattering.
“I’ll see you later, kitten.” The words were a dark promise.
I watched him turn and walk away, my body on fire and my mind frozen.
Chapter 12
Stefano
“No! Bad kitty.” Carmen’s loud, exasperated tone captured my attention as soon as I stepped into my penthouse. The bedroom was far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to see me, but I could easily hear her words at the elevated volume.
“We are not friends!” she groaned. “No. No. I don’t want to cuddle with you, you cute little asshole. For fuck’s sake, you do not give up, do you? Are you taking notes from Stefano? I bet you are, you fluffy psycho. Yes, you are.” Her voice lilted to a higher pitch as she spoke, until she was practically cooing at Bandit like a baby.
Grinning, I made my way toward the bedroom by a roundabout path, ensuring that she wouldn’t notice my approach. I’d anticipated returning to find Carmen huddled on my bed in a quivering, needy mess. Her heart rate had ticked up a few times throughout the course of the day, but not enough that I suspected her of disobedience.
But instead of her greeting me with pleas for release, I’d walked in on her having a rather adorable argument with my cat.
I paused just outside the threshold to the bedroom, leaning against the wall to remain out of sight while I indulged in their private conversation. Something warmed in the center of my chest as she fawned over Bandit, revealing a softer side of herself that she’d never shown me.
“Okay, you can snuggle with me,” she capitulated. “But only until Stefano comes back,” she added sternly. “He can’t know that I like you, or he might hurt you. I won’t be responsible for that. You’re too sweet for the bad man to hurt you.” She finished at the higher-pitched, baby voice, but I didn’t find it cute anymore.
Something dark and ugly sank its claws into my insides. My features twisted in a grimace, and I no longer felt like hiding my presence from Carmen.
“Why would you say something like that?” I snapped, forcing myself to remain a careful distance away from them. If Carmen already thought I was capable of harming my cat out of malice—if she was secretly so fearful of me—storming toward her and extracting answers would only drive her further away.
She jolted and pushed Bandit aside. My watch beeped, alerting me that her heartrate had become elevated.
My teeth clenched hard enough to crack. I’d relished having a means of monitoring her physiological responses at all times, but the knowledge that she feared me so much was a gut punch.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, her demand weakened by a tremor.
“Long enough to know that you think I would hurt Bandit.” The growled words left an acidic burn on my tongue. “Do you really believe I’m capable of doing something like that?”
She lifted her chin, her posture defiant despite her pale complexion. “You are capable of chaining me to your bed and playing sick, perverted games with me for your own amusement. Why would I possibly underestimate what you’re capable of? This is how you’re treating me when you’re in a good mood. I don’t think I could fathom what your twisted mind might devise if you’re in a bad one.”
“I don’t torture small animals for fun,” I snapped. “I’m not a sadist. I don’t take pleasure in causing pain.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen the aftermath of your retribution. You butcher people, and you don’t feel a shred of remorse.”
A frustrated growl slipped between my teeth. I hated when she twisted the facts like this. I thought she understood me better than anyone, but at the moment, she was grossly mischaracterizing me.
“No, I don’t feel remorse when I kill people who pose a threat to me,” I bit out. “I can mutilate them to whatever extent the situation calls for, and it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. But I also don’t experience vicious pleasure from it. Everything I do has a specific, measured purpose. None of my violent actions are erratic, and they are not driven by emotional impulse. I’m not handicapped by that particular human frailty, and I won’t apologize for it.”
“That’s my point!” she flung back at me. “You would do anything necessary to control me, including hurting others to coerce my compliance. It would be a calculated tactic, and you would feel nothing; no guilt, no self-loathing. You will do anything to get what you want, and I will be damned if I put anyone at risk by caring about them. I will not make them a target for your callous cruelty.”
“I don’t want to coerce your compliance through fear,” I countered darkly. “I want you to be mine. You, not a resentful, timid shell. I won’t threaten others to control you, because then your submission wouldn’t be solely for me. It would be for them.” I confronted her with the unabashed truth. “And I won’t share any part of you. This is between you and me. I don’t give a shit about anyone else, Carmen.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her steely eyes flashing. “A normal man would promise me he would never harm someone I care about because that would be hurtful to me.”
I fixed her with a grim stare. “A normal man would also lie and tell you the pretty things you want to hear in order to trick you into trusting him. I am not a normal man, and you know it all too well. Now, are your fears allayed?”
“Not remotely,” she hissed.
I waved my hand through the air, dismissing her defiant statement. “Yes, they are. You’re not afraid anymore. You’re just angry.”
“And I wonder why that is?” she sniped. “Maybe because a perverted freak has me chained to his bed.”
My brows lifted, and I finally allowed myself to close the distance between us. “Stressful day, kitten?”
With each step toward her rigid frame, my tension eased. I found it distinctly unpleasant when Carmen was fearful of me. Her anger was cute. We could have fun when she was angry.
When I reached the bed, Bandit sauntered over to me. I petted him absently, my focus fixed on Carmen.
She eyed the cat as though he had betrayed her.
“Don’t be pissy with Bandit,” I chided. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. It was sweet of you to worry for him, but there’s nothing to be concerned about. I know you like him.” I taunted her with a sharp smile. “I think it’s quite adorable that my pets are friends.”
Her howl of pure frustration was explosive enough to give me pause, and Bandit fled in alarm.
“I hate you! God, I hate you so much!” She buried her face in her hands, her palms pressed tight against her eyes and her fingers threading through her hair.
My stomach churned, and I reached for her. Just before I gave in to the temptation to stroke her soft skin, I clenched my hand to a fist and withdrew. That impulse was for my own benefit, and she looked as though she might shatter at the lightest touch.
Nothing was going as I had planned. I’d expected to return to my bed and find her needy and wet for me. Of course, I’d anticipated some barbed comments and delicious resistance. But ultimately, I’d thought Carmen would be secretly excited for my return. She’d submitted beautifully this morning, the depth and intensity of her surrender so intoxicating that I’d been distracted by wicked thoughts about her all day.
The enraged woman before me didn’t at all resemble the sweet kitten I’d tamed and left leashed to my bed.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted stiffly, completely at a loss as to how to handle her. Touching her seemed like a very bad idea. Not because she might hurt me, but because I was sure it would hurt her.
A strange, unpleasant ache tightened the center of my chest.
“Leave me alone!” she groaned into her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her impotent fury. She knew she couldn’t fight me, but she desperately wanted to.
For the first time, I fully contemplated what it meant that she wanted to kill me. It had seemed fun before. Challenging.
But the weight of her actually wishing my death bore down on me like a physical burden, the crushing load making my shoulders slump. For Carmen, her life truly would be better without me in it. She could be free to run her own cartel, make her own choices.
But my life without Carmen in it…
I shook my head sharply. The only way Carmen wouldn’t be in my life was if she was dead, and I wasn’t going to allow that to happen under any circumstances. No one would take her from me.
Grim determination to keep her gave me the clarity to set a decisive course of action. I reached into my pocket and removed the key that would unlock the cuff around her ankle.
“All right, I’ll leave you alone,” I allowed, setting the key down on the bed beside Carmen. “There’s the key to remove your cuff. I’m going to lock the bedroom door and the master bathroom door behind me. You can take some time for yourself. If you want to take a bath, be careful of your bandages. And when you take that toy out, be gentle.” I gave her the freedom to remove the silver spheres from her pussy without my help, suppressing my concerns that the process would be more jarring for her if I wasn’t there to offer pleasure to ease her tight channel.
She lowered her hands from her face, her gaze landing on the key beside her. She snatched it up quickly, spearing me with a distrustful glare. Her gray eyes sparkled, and she blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in front of me.
Ruthlessly quashing the impulse to reach for her, I ran a hand through my hair instead, leaving the careful style uncharacteristically mussed.
“This isn’t some sort of trick,” I swore, low and rough. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
I hadn’t intended to say that. I’d intended to give her a rational explanation for why I was giving her space. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t like when she was upset and that I wanted her to feel better, even though I recognized that there was nothing I could do to accomplish that. My nearness was the cause of her pain.
I definitely didn’t like that.
“What if I manage to find a weapon while you’re gone?” she challenged softly, her pale gaze intent on my face. “Are you willing to risk your life because you don’t want me to hate you?”
I shrugged, ignoring the knifing pain at the center of my chest. “Don’t worry, kitten,” I said, my nonchalance ruined by my gruff tone. “I won’t let you kill me.”
Turning on my heel, I followed through with my promise to give her space. I closed the bedroom door and locked it behind me, rubbing my chest to alleviate the strange ache behind my ribcage.
Chapter 13
Carmen
I lingered in the bathtub long enough for the water to cool, taking full advantage of the mercifully peaceful time away from Stefano’s insidious influence. Even though he’d left me alone for hours today, I’d felt his touch all over my body like a brand, the heavy silver spheres inside me a constant, inescapable reminder of his complete ownership.
Shame flushed my skin, despite the tepid water. I’d allowed him to reduce me to that state. By the end, I’d been mindlessly eager for his attentions, enslaved to his will by no more than his masterful touch.
My stomach twisted in knots. Stefano was right about one thing, even though I was loath to admit it to myself: our physical chemistry was combustible. Dangerous.
I’d removed the cruel, deviant toy he’d placed deep inside my body, and the process had left my sex slightly tender. Without the ruthless heat of his hands manipulating my erotic responses, my inner muscles were tight enough to resist the passage of the hard metal spheres.
My muscles ached from the tension that had gripped me all day; every small movement had made the toy rumble and stimulate my most sensitive flesh, fueling my shame, rage, and fear. Each time my breath caught and my pulse raced, dread flooded my system at the knowledge that the bracelet he’d secured around my wrist would alert him to my altered state. He had known my humiliation, even though he wasn’t present to witness it.
Stefano hadn’t carved a mark of ownership into my skin, but I felt branded deep inside, as though he’d forced an imprint on my soul.
My captivity with Miguel had been horrific, but at least my body had never betrayed me to him. He’d broken my spirit, but he never ensnared my mind.
Stefano didn’t have to inflict physical agony to cut into me more keenly than Miguel had ever managed.
As I clawed my way through shame and despair, I managed to reclaim a fraction of my cold clarity. One objective filled my mind: I have to escape.
Sheer stubbornness forced my cognitive abilities back online, my fierce determination to survive this with my soul intact granting me the mental acuity to strategize.
Stefano’s stifling nearness was the cause of my undoing. His twisted mind games and ruthless sensual manipulations would wear me down until I couldn’t recognize myself.
A shudder wracked my frame at the nightmarish concept of becoming his tamed pet.
Physically, I couldn’t resist him. Even if my feet weren’t crippled, he would eventually overpower me in any altercation, and I didn’t have the option to evade him if I got in a solid blow. As long as I was trapped in his penthouse, he would always manage to capture me, no matter how much damage I inflicted.
That left me with the one weapon that had saved me from each horror of my past: my mind.
I could play his games. All this time, he’d been the one seducing me into compliance, using my helpless desire for him against me.
Well, karma was a bitch, and so was I.
Throwing myself at him was out of the question; he would see right through my strategy if I made it too easy for him. I would make him work for it, but I would remain secure in the secret knowledge that every second of my submission was a ruse, a calculated tactic that would eventually bring about his demise. He couldn’t slowly chip away at my willpower and steal pieces of my soul if each show of surrender was on my terms.
He wanted me to be his tamed, devoted pet, so he could parade me around like a trophy. He intended to use me to quash any lingering resistance amongst my associates. They didn’t know I’d been the one to betray my brother, their leader. In their minds, I was still the figurehead of the Ronaldo Cartel, the last survivor bearing my father’s powerful name.
Stefano would be plotting to bend me to his will so that he could take me out in public and show me off, leashed and utterly humiliated. But he would have to act soon. With every day that passed, my more ambitious associates would be consolidating power, recruiting my brother’s weaker allies to their cause. The chaos of a fractured cartel always created a power vacuum that escalated into vicious bloodshed before the new power structure was brutally established.
That meant Stefano would be feeling pressure from his own associates to demonstrate his dominion over me. He had the clock working against him, and I would use that to my advantage.
And if his recent actions could be taken at face value, he had one other weakness: my distress.
In his unhinged fantasy about owning me, he desired my genuine devotion. He wanted to keep me caged for his own amusement, and he didn’t want me to spoil his fun with any unpleasantness. Apparently, the reality of my entrenched hatred soured some of his enjoyment.
A delicate balance of resistance, surrender, and false vulnerability would grant me control over my insane jailor. Once he arrogantly believed that he had successfully mastered me, he would make the grave error of taking me out of my cage. In time, I would subvert his organization and rally my own associates to destroy the bastard who had dared to humble our cartel.
Set on my course of action, I took a bracing breath and maneuvered my body out of the tub. The process was awkward, considering my bandages, but I managed to get to my feet and limp into the closet. Grabbing a towel along my way, I dried off and surveyed the skimpy outfits Stefano had purchased for me.
My armor needed to be chosen carefully. At the moment, nothing too daring would do. I needed to appear shaken, vulnerable. That meant selecting the demurest option available, as though I wanted to hide as much of my body as possible from Stefano’s lustful gaze.
Balancing an attempt at modesty with a hint at my sensuality wouldn’t be a challenge. He hadn’t provided me with a single unflattering option. My selection ranged from lacy lingerie to indecently lowcut, form-fitting dresses.
My lips twisted in a grim smirk when the perfect combination presented itself to me.
Within minutes, I’d clothed myself in a matching, sheer black lace bra and panty set and covered it with one of Stefano’s tailored shirts. I would give the illusion of attempting to cover the most sensual parts of my anatomy and mask my curves. But the dark lingerie was clearly visible against the white fabric of his shirt, granting him a tantalizing, suggestive glimpse at the slutty garments. I would act standoffish at first, pretending to keep him at a distance while he salivated over the prospect of getting me undressed.
I might allow him to assert physical dominance, but our erotic interactions this evening would be by my own design. He would only take as much as I allowed.
I made one final assessment of my appearance in the bathroom mirror before I faced my enemy. After savoring my triumphant smile for a few seconds, I carefully tucked it away, covering it with a mask of uncertainty and hurt.
