Claim (A Dangerous Man, #3) Read online

  As if once would ever be enough. “And then I wanted no one else to ever have the pleasure. Understand that Sophie, You are mine.”

  Her lips are parted, inviting me. My body responds without holding back. I kiss her, tasting the sweetness of her lips.

  I undress her in a hurry, and tear off my clothes as fast as I can. The bed is too far away, so I carry her to one of the armchairs, kneeling between her parted legs. Then she takes me in her hand and guides me inside her slickness, her eyes closed, and her lips parted in an expression of ecstasy. My breath hisses out of my chest, and I almost explode. The fever of desire engulfs me, and I plunge in deep, going insanely, pleasurably mad with each thrust. Wanting her is like a fire in my blood, and it doesn’t let go until I’m utterly spent, and barely able to carry her to the bed.

  We lie side by side, her head resting on my shoulder while I stroke her hair. I have never felt like this with anyone else. It’s crazy and scary at the same time.

  “You know, I owe you a honeymoon.” I say.

  She turns to me and smiles. “Yes, somewhere that would ‘blow my mind’.”

  “Is there anywhere in particular you would like to go?”

  She sighs. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

  In that moment, I’m totally, irrevocably hers. I lean over and kiss her until I’ve tasted every corner of her mouth.

  “I think I know just the place.” I say when I pause for breath.

  She smiles. “I thought we were going out for dinner?” She doesn’t sound too eager.

  My eyes skip to rosy nipples, erect and asking for my attention. What dinner?

  “Forget dinner.” I say decisively.

  And then I make her forget.

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re a changed man, and it’s about time.”

  The memory of Carlo’s words, spoken when his family spent an afternoon with Sophie and me in Florence, is accompanied by vivid memories of the two-week holiday, lazy days in the sun, making hot sweet love in every single room of my spacious villa, and just enjoying each other’s company.

  I turn to look at her, sitting beside me in the back of the car, Sophie looks beautiful, her figure perfect in a beautiful blue evening gown, and her face serene, showing no signs of the fact that we just made mind-blowing love in the apartment before setting out for the charity event we’re attending. Around her slender neck, the stones in the necklace I had made from one of her designs sparkle fiercely, reminding me of the few instances when I’ve experienced her temper.

  As if she can feel my eyes on her, she turns to look at me, wide green eyes drawing me into their depths.

  For a second, I can’t quite catch my breath.

  I do feel like a changed man. I feel like I’ve been given something that I don’t deserve. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and every single moment, I’m terrified by the fear that I’ll lose it.

  That I’ll lose her.

  I give her a small smile and turn away, busying myself with looking out of the windows on my side. Steve is driving, quiet as usual. I wonder what he would say if I told him that I’m afraid.

  Afraid of falling in love with my wife.

  Love is a weakness. I learned that the hard way. Love makes you risk everything, and gives you nothing but disappointment, scorn, and the lifelong scars of heartbreak in return. I know that from experience.

  Experience I’d rather not repeat.

  Regardless, I can feel my control slipping away. What began as an impulsive decision has become the defining event of my life.

  And it’s not just the sex, though that is phenomenal. I only have to close my eyes to relive the feeling of just a few minutes ago, my hard erection fully encased in her warm tightness, her long low moans as I drove deeper into her with each thrust, the blinding pleasure, the explosive release.

  I take a deep breath and snap out of my erotic thoughts as Steve parks in front of the hotel where the event is taking place.

  Inside, there is a crush of well-dressed people, eager to be seen and admired. I can’t help thinking of the parties my mother and Henry Weber used to have, all glamour and no substance. This however is different, I remind myself, at least we’re raising money for a cause.

  Peggy Hart waylays me almost immediately. She’s one of the richest women in the country, and she actively supports a whole lot of causes. I’ve always admired Peggy. Outside, she doesn’t look like much, but she’s relentless in getting what she wants. Today it’s money for the Alliance for education, and from the smile on her face, I’m sure she’s already raised a lot.

  “David darling!” She kisses both my cheeks before turning to Sophie. “You must be the lovely Sophie.” She says, “I’ve only recently heard about you, you know. David has been keeping you a terrible secret.”

  As if, we need anybody to remind us of that. Sophie doesn’t seem offended at all, she’s looking curiously at Peggy, who is laughing. “Aren’t you a pretty thing though?” She tells Sophie.

  Sophie turns to me, a small curious smile on her lips. I remember my manners and introduce them. “Sophie sweetheart, this exceptionally beautiful lady is the incomparable Peggy Hart.”

  Sophie’s eyes widen with comprehension. “I’m very honored to meet you.” She says to Peggy.

  Peggy dimples, obviously flattered. “Thank you darling.” She tells Sophie, before turning to me with a snort. “I’m not even going to respond to your flattery.”

  She leads the way into the room, taking the time to tell me before she leaves us, that Carole has insisted on being seated at my table. Knowing Carole, that’s her way of announcing to the world that she doesn’t care that I’m married. I’m not really bothered. Carole and her antics are a thing of the past. She can’t do any harm.

  As the dinner progresses, I occupy myself with conversing with Leon Boise, a website entrepreneur who’s seated beside me, while listening with half an ear to the speeches, and to Sophie talking with Rick Cruzman, whose software company is the latest addition to Preston Corp.

  At least she’s not bored. I know I am.

  Everyone is clapping halfheartedly as another speech ends when I feel Sophie stiffen. I’m about to ask her what the problem is when I notice Carole and a companion I don’t recognize, take the empty seats at our table.

  I hear Leon Boise tell her how nice it is to see her. For me, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sophie looks dismayed. Her eyes skip from Carole to me, and I cannot even imagine what she’s thinking.

  Leon turns to me. “I had forgotten to congratulate you David,” he continues, “I read something about the attempted takeover,” his gaze goes back to Carole. “I hear David has you to thank for retaining his control on the board.”

  Carole looks like she would gladly tear Leon to pieces with her teeth, then she transfers her angry glare to me. “Yes,” She says, her voice like saccharine. “I sold him the shares of his company I got when my father died.” Her face is expressionless, except for her eyes, which are dripping with venom as she looks at me. She laughs humorlessly and turns back to Leon. “Which means David Preston will always control Preston Corp.”

  “As he should.” I say with a smile. I turn back to Sophie, noticing that she still looks uncomfortable. Carole and her barely hidden fangs would do that, I think. I place my hand over Sophie’s on the table. “Have you met my wife?” I say, looking at Carole.

  “No.” Carole’s voice is sweet, masking the rage in her eyes. “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure.”

  I make the introductions, not so much because I’m taking any pleasure from riling Carole, more because I want Sophie to see that Carole means nothing to me.

  Sophie’s expression is hesitant. “Nice to meet you.” She says politely.

  Carole chuckles. Her voice has an unmistakably mocking ring to it. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Thankfully, the last speech ends, and I lead Sophie out to dance.

  “What was that?” She asks as soon
as we’re alone.

  “What was what?”

  “What just happened at our table, with that woman?” She frowns, looking up at me.

  I shrug. “Carole isn’t too happy with the price she got for her shares, that’s all.”

  Sophie gives me a curious look, “You didn’t pay her as much as she wanted?”

  “I couldn’t.” I say.

  A puzzled frown creases her features. “Then how did you get her to sell them to you?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Wait,” Sophie’s frown deepens, “What did she want?”

  “She wanted me,” I shrug. “Either me or my destruction,” I spin her around as she stares at me, open-mouthed.

  “I don’t understand.” She says.

  This isn’t the time to explain all that, I decide, as I hand her over to Leon Boise, who’s cutting in.

  I spent the next few minutes in conversation with other business people. Finally, I end up on the balcony, eager for some fresh air.

  The solitude is enjoyable. I breathe in the cool night air and enjoy the sight of the city all lit up in the night.

  “I didn’t take you for someone who’s attracted to children.” Carole’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

  I turn to find her standing beside me.

  “Did you marry the first person who smiled at you just to teach me a lesson?” she continues.

  “You think too much of yourself.” I say drily.

  “It’s you who thinks too little of me.” her voice is bitter. “It meant nothing to you that I was willing to stoop as low as blackmail just to be with you again. Did I always mean so little to you?”

  “Carole,” I say patiently, “Don’t act like we ever had a real commitment. I’m surprised you keep hanging on to a brief fling that happened a long time ago.”

  “Well, I didn’t forget how good it was between us.” She states peevishly.

  I start to shrug, but she steps towards me and pulls my face down towards her, kissing me. She’s holding on tightly to me. I don’t want to shove her, and it takes a while to extricate myself from her embrace.

  I take a step back. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove Carole, but it’s not working.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Whatever, go back to that mewling baby you call a wife.” She shrugs. “I don’t care.”

  I leave her there, intent on finding Sophie and leaving. I don’t expect to look for her everywhere and not find her. I don’t expect to call her cell phone over and over and get no answer. I don’t expect the fear that grips at my stomach when the guy at the front desk tells me he called a cab for someone who fits her description.

  I can’t get to the apartment fast enough. I don’t know why Sophie’s left but my worst fears are realized when I find her in the apartment, in our room, packing her bags, her face stained with tears.

  She is really leaving me this time.

  I feel like something is squeezing my chest. It’s suddenly very difficult to breathe. I have been dreading this for weeks, with a certainty that one day she would decide that she made a mistake and leave.

  One day. But not today, not so soon.

  I want to beg her not to leave, desperation clouds my thoughts, and I feel like a little boy again, throwing myself at my mother, begging her not to leave.

  I take a deep breath. “What are you doing?” I ask Sophie, my voice calm, masking the mounting apprehension beneath.

  “What does it look like?” She doesn’t even stop to look at me.

  I swallow the angry words threatening to come out of my mouth. “I left you for a few moments at a party, and now you’re leaving me?”

  “You left me for far longer than a few minutes, to make out with your old girlfriend.” Her voice catches as she speaks. She pauses and swallows, then goes back to her packing.

  Silently I damn Carole and myself... mainly myself. This is all my fault. With the realization comes a blinding anguish.

  “So now you’re running off back to Ashford,” I lash out before I can stop myself. “Tell me, is it Eddie Newton who’s going to be picking up the pieces of your broken heart, or will it be somebody else?”

  “What do you care?” She chokes out the words.

  I care. I care so much I feel as if my senses are being obliterated. “For God’s sake, Sophie!”

  She steps away from me, as if I’ve threatened her. “Let me go.” She whispers almost inaudibly. “I don’t belong here, in this big apartment, or in your luxurious life, and we both know it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  She sniffs and looks up at me. “David, do you love me?”

  I stiffen, looking from her face to the bags on the bed and back again, I don’t want to deal with her question. I can’t, not now, not yet.

  “What’s come over you?” I ask, eager to steer the conversation in another direction.

  It doesn’t work. “Do you love me, David?” She asks again.

  I turn away from her. “What do you want from me?” I’m not a man who loves. I know what she’s asking me. She’s asking if I’m willing to open myself up to hurt, to betrayal.

  I’m not.

  “You don’t love me do you?” She states softly, with the wounded expression of someone hearing the confirmation of something they already knew.

  I scramble in my head for something to say. “Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be Sophie.” I say finally. “Other people would take what they have and be grateful for it.”

  “And what do I have?” She asks accusingly, “tell me the truth David. Why did you marry me?”

  How could I not? How do I tell her about the lust that drove me to claim her body, the possessiveness that made me tie her to me, and the desire now to have not only that body, but also everything that comes with it?

  She took my body prisoner that first day. There was no way I could have left her in Ashford. No matter the reasons I’ve given myself for marrying her, it was because I knew even then, that I wanted her forever.

  And I still do.

  I can’t let her go.

  I reach for her, my eyes never leaving hers as I run my fingers down her arm. Her lips tremble softly as she shivers.

  She can’t hide her reaction to my touch. “Because of that.” I tell her. If we have nothing else, we have that. The pleasure we find in each other’s arms.

  I continue to explore her body, drawing out the reactions I know she can’t conceal. Feeling her tremble beneath my fingers, I lean closer to whisper in her ear. “Because of this, Sophie. This is what we have between us.”

  “This is only sex.” She says shakily. “We have nothing.”

  What we have is enough, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make her accept that.

  I know how to make her light up, and as I touch her, I can feel her resistance crumbling.

  “Is this nothing, Sophie?” I whisper, letting my breath warm her ear. I hear her ragged sigh, the shaky explosion of breath. “Don’t you want this Sophie?” I continue, “Don’t you want me to touch you? To make love to you, over and over again?” I kiss her neck exactly where I know she likes. “Isn’t it enough?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself? Sophie, what else is there?” My fingers are busy, undressing her. I let her dress fall to the ground, exposing her flushed skin. I continue to tease her, touching her lightly, until I know she is aching for more

  She is begging me with her eyes and body to make love to her, but it’s not enough. I want her complete capitulation. I want to hear her say it.

  “What do you want Sophie?”

  She doesn’t reply. She’s panting softly, her breasts heaving, her lips parted. She wants this. I squeeze her firm breasts through her bra, gently, the way I know she likes, and she lets out a soft moan.

  “Isn’t this enough?” I ask again.

  She shakes her head again.

  I sigh, undoing her bra and freeing her breasts. Deep do
wn I know that what I’m doing is despicable, but I’m used to fighting with all my weapons, and I’m used to fighting to win.

  I undress quickly. When I’m naked, I guide her hand to my aching erection. She gets on her knees, stroking me lightly with her fingers, then she takes me in her mouth. I groan, almost losing my head to the pleasure. But this is not what I want. I want to feel her tighten around me, I want to hear her moan from the pleasure I give her. I want her to lose her head. I want her to accept that she’s mine, only mine.

  I lift her up to her feet and position her over the bed, with her perfect backside facing me. I stroke her with eager fingers, feeling how wet she is through the silk of her panties.

  She clenches around my fingers. “Please.” Her voice is a plea. “Please David.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Please,” She moans.

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you.” She admits, her voice hoarse, telling me with words what her body is already saying very loudly.

  “You want what?” I insist.

  “I want you to make love to me. David, please.”

  Pulling down her panties, I spread her legs wider and enter her slowly, drawing out each movement, teasing her. She tightens around me, pulsing, hot and so incredible sweet. I hold on to her hips and drive in deep. She lets out a long sigh as I pull out and drive in again. I press her body to mine, thrusting in and out, over and over again, drawing my pleasure from the sounds of her moans, the heat of her skin, from her tightness clenched around me. When she comes, I can barely hold myself back.

  “Isn’t this enough?” I ask again as her body shudders, then stills.

  She doesn’t say anything. I want her to accept it, that what we have is more than any desire for love, or whatever she thinks she feels. Love is an illusion, a weakness.

  She’s still sensitive when I start to move again, her low moans fill the room, her body is shaking, slick with sweat. I feel her insides pulse around me again and again, but still I don’t stop. I don’t stop until she agrees that what we have is enough.

  “Don’t mistake what we have.” I tell her, when I’m able to catch my breath, “and don’t underestimate it either.”