Sins, page 15
William smirked, suspecting Charles had a date because otherwise, he wouldn’t leave the club. “With whom?”
Charles took his cane and hat from the brass rack in the corner. “A lady.”
“You rogue! And you didn’t tell me,” William teased as Charles placed his hat on his head and bowed mockingly.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, William.” Then he winked at Ivy, who startled at this joviality but smiled before he closed the door behind him.
William privately thanked Charles for his cheery departure since he knew it was a ploy to sweeten Ivy, to attach her to them.
BACK IN WILLIAM’S MASTER bedroom, he was spiraling into a world of doubt. He’d had time to stew during their journey up, and his earlier suspicion strengthened. Could she somehow have been involved in the theft? No! Had his cock overruled his mind when it came to Ivy? For days, he’d been engrossed in either ignoring her or fucking her. He detested her pull, her beauty, her appeal that had all been too distracting.
At the foot of the bed, she stood with her chin held high, giving him a level stare, which, as usual, was glassy. Every time he saw her eyes, he was astounded by the intensely sky-blue color of her irises – a color that was one of a kind and unequaled in any woman he’d ever met. Shaking his head, he concentrated on his plan.
Circling around Ivy one time, he faced her and unfastened the cloak, throwing it aside without bothering to watch where it landed. With gentleness, he caressed up her cleavage and to her throat with the back of his hand. The hunter admiring his kill before devouring it. She softened under his touch and her eyes closed. He’d perfected the art of seduction a long time ago, yet, every so often, he wondered who was the master in this game of seduction they played. Even now, he throbbed to fuck her senseless until all she screamed was his name on her lips. Until all she wanted was his cock inside her.
“Ivy, we are going to finish what I started earlier.”
Her eyes flew open. “No.”
Lightning-fast, he gripped her throat. “Yes. Don’t ever say ‘no’ to me. Your body betrays your words. We both know you want to feel my cock in your ass. You just want to defy me now because of our little quarrel in Charles’s office,” he said against the side of her mouth.
Ivy covered his hand with hers, attempting to pry his fingers loose, but he was unrelenting. “I don’t want to fuck you now, because I’m unsure what your intention is.”
He smiled cruelly and stepped to her back, his fingers still clasped around her throat, and whispered from behind, “You’re always unsure of my intention. But still, you’ll surrender your body to me.”
“I won’t.”
“You’ve already done so, more than once. Your struggle has lost its strength.”
“Damn you to hell!”
“Tsk, tsk, wherever did a lady learn such language?” He’d often wondered that.
Ivy steeled her jaw, and he detected the headstrong attitude dominating her as he circled around her again. With an unexpected push, he toppled Ivy across the bedsheets and followed. To move a little more up the bed, he lifted himself off her. What he didn’t expect was how she managed to get her knee up, giving him a solid blow to his ribs that doubled him up.
William struggled to catch his breath, rendered incapacitated for a second by this feisty woman. And that second was all she needed to shoot out from under him and mightily shove William onto his back to sit astride him and press her thumbs down hard into the base of his windpipe. It hurt badly, and it dawned on him that she must’ve learned this move, because she knew exactly how much pressure to apply.
“And now what?” William spoke with derisive sarcasm.
For a long, charged moment, they beheld one another. Neither wanting to surrender. Neither willing to back down. Seconds ticked by. Both were fueled by furious lust. Lust that always required satiating – so it seemed.
Eventually, the pressure of her thumbs subsided, and William grabbed her hips, rolling them over on the bed. In the next instant, he had her wrist locked to the familiar bedpost and leaned down close to her face. She flung her head to the side to avoid his seductive whisper against her lips so that now, his lips touched her cheek as he said, “You do know how to ruin a perfectly sensual moment. But I’m still fucking you unless...” He reared back and she looked at him with brows raised. “Unless you tell me honestly what happened in the fight club?”
“What do you mean?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Regarding the theft...”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it!”
“I don’t believe you,” William retorted.
She didn’t flinch, but true fear did blister across her face. She was possibly being truthful.
“Then we’re at an impasse,” Ivy said.
The corner of his lip tilted up. “No, we’re not.” William flipped her onto her stomach and bunched the dress above her hips at the same time that he shoved down his shorts. “You may choose,” he proposed as he lay on Ivy’s back, with her forehead planted on the mattress – she didn’t want to look at him – while he fitted his hand to her waist. “Tell me how you did it with the wallets, and I can make this pleasurable for you. Or lie and I’ll drive my cock inside your ass without preamble. And that will hurt. It’ll hurt badly, Ivy.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it!” she cried and clenched her butt cheeks while William pushed against her, hardening from the feel of her soft ass rubbing against his dick.
Ivy scratched his hip with her unrestrained hand, so he planted it beside her head.
“I’ve warned you about scratching!” he hissed and pressed his cock between her ass cheeks, sliding up and down.
“Stop it! I’m not lying, William.” Her tone was different, miserable.
William tangled his fingers in her hair and jerked her head to the side, her cheek pressed against the mattress so he could see her face. As he cupped her chin, he nudged the head of his cock in her ass, ready to plunge inside.
Tears were streaming down as she repeated over and over, “I’m not lying! I’m not lying!” Every time, her voice grew quieter.
He barely pushed the tip in, and she screamed in pain, then peered at him from the corner of her eye as she murmured brokenly, “I’m...not...lying.”
Confusion marred every cell in his body. Never, never had William been in a situation where it was impossible to ascertain whether or not someone was telling a lie. Never had he been as affected by another person’s tears as he was in this instant.
“Damn it!” he roared, unable to bring more harm upon her, battling between believing her or not, while grasping her hair hard.
His forehead fell to her temple as she struggled to breathe through her cries, and he lifted himself off her. As William stood beside the bed, Ivy fixed him with a pitiful look. She appeared truly broken. Yet it wasn’t satisfaction he felt. He didn’t quite know what emotion was troubling him. Raking back his messy hair, he started to stride from the room, but her voice stopped him when he reached the doorway.
“Why are you such a tormented soul? Why are you such a dick?”
He pivoted on his heel, and she watched him as he paced back with a few determined strides. “Why are you such a talkative cunt?!”
She only retreated a bit when he got close and braced his palms on the edge of the mattress. But the words that were about to tumble from his lips died as he took in her teary, sad eyes, so he shut his mouth tightly, regaining his composure, and left.
A minute later, he returned with a glass of water.
“Sit up,” he said and pressed the glass into her free hand as she obeyed.
Their distrustful stares met, and she was noting far too much of his inner turmoil. He could tell by the way she examined him. Exhausted from yet another consecutive weary night, he dropped back onto the bed as she placed the glass on the nightstand. Then she lay down as well, one hand above her head since she was cuffed to the bedpost. And of course, she started talking. While he regarded the ceiling, he noticed her angling her body toward him.
“I didn’t steal the wallets, William. You know I didn’t or else you wouldn’t have stopped.”
He stapled his fingers together, then folded them behind his head on the pillow.
She waited for a reply from him that didn’t come. “I-I...What are your plans for me?”
He shot her a sideways glance, not planning to engage in her conversation, and his blood flowed southward seeing her sexy pose. Without knowing, she was constantly enticing him. She lay half turned with the dress up to her waist, the curve of her hip erotic and her pussy hidden to him. In turn, she witnessed his cock twitching as it grew.
“Can you undo the handcuff, William?”
“No.” He didn’t move a muscle, and after he’d closed his eyes, she continued – but not with words.
William felt a finger tracing his side, moving over scarred skin, yet she didn’t ask about the origin of the marks. She drew a slow, seductive line. His first instinct was to recoil, but somehow, he didn’t. It was comforting to enjoy the caress while he kept his eyes shut.
“Why did you get these drawings on your skin?” she probed.
“I saw tattoos on another fighter when I was twenty, and Charles actually knew an artist, who drew the design for me.” He predicted her next inquiry to be: What do they mean?
But Ivy stunned him when she remarked, “The feather that breaks off into birds is beautiful. And I saw the dog tag has no inscription. It seems like you’re searching for something, or someone.”
Then her entire palm stroked over his pectorals, towards his abs, down to the V of his hips, and up again. The simple touch like a sedative to his rattled nerves.
“Why are you so tormented, William?” she asked again while he shuddered under her strokes.
Sensations overwhelmed him, and he was lost in his mind for a long time, probably minutes. Eventually, he countered with his own question, “Why do you assume I’m tormented? Perhaps this is just who I am.”
“No one is just like this. I think you’re not at all the William you portray. The fighter, the businessman. Do you even know?”
“Know what?”
“Who you are?” Her fingers teased his skin.
“Yes. I’m a man who never wants to be poor again.”
“So everything revolves around gaining wealth for you?”
“Yes. Money is indispensable. Money makes the world goes round. Money equals power. Poverty destroys the spirit. Helplessness destroys the spirit. “
“But money doesn’t make one happy.”
“It makes life much easier though. What’s the price of happiness when you don’t have money? People spit on you; they abuse you; they hurt you—” He stopped himself from confessing too much, and for a second, her movement ceased as well. Yet she continued, and so did he, “Society thrives on the rich.”
“You want money, the money that floats around in society, but you seem to hate that same society? The society you’re part of.”
“I’m not part of that society,” he defended. “I don’t live in that world like you do. They’re my clientele, which is the only reason why I put up with them.”
“So you’d rather be alone forever?”
“That sounds like paradise to me,” William replied wryly, still with his eyes shut.
“What about Charles? He’s part of society more than you, and you’re close to him.”
He didn’t answer her. Charles was a subject he didn’t discuss with anyone.
Suddenly she asked, “Do you trust Charles?”
“In this life, you can trust no one.”
“Is that what you really believe?” she questioned tentatively.
William was expecting the common response of what a foolish notion that was.
However, she surprised him with her addition, “I agree.”
With that comment, his eyes flew open and he stared at her in amazement. In the space of a few agonizing heartbeats, time was suspended while they heatedly watched one another, having found some common ground.
Then her hand drifted downward. “William,” Ivy’s husky voice drawled. “You’re hard...” The pad of her thumb circled the head of his cock. She touched him with the same hunger he felt in his soul.
A low growl escaped his lips, and before he knew it, he was on top of Ivy to unlock her cuff, throwing the key in the nightstand drawer and rolling to his back again.
Ivy scooted closer to him, exploring the dark line of hair leading to his cock.
“Make me come, Ivy.” He let out a deep, guttural groan when she pumped his shaft.
“The skin’s so soft,” she said dreamily while inspecting her own movement.
“Faster.” William’s eyelids fell shut again as she increased her speed.
When she lay her head on his chest, his astounded gaze settled on the top of her head. But then he was diverted by her ruthless strokes that sent his senses careening through the ceiling. He drove himself up into her hand, his breath coming harsh and fast. William couldn’t help but rest his palm on her back, descending to dig his fingers into her ass while she jerked him off. He could feel the climax rushing down on him, and then he exploded superbly. He came with a gratifying shudder, and she slowed her pumping until he released the last drop, still touching his cock as she presumably watched how he shot his load onto his stomach.
Neither of them moved. An undercurrent of miscellaneous emotions afflicted him. How did she manage to turn the tables so quickly? Promptly, William remembered how sly Ivy was. She was forced to move off him when he wanted to get up to clean himself in the bathroom.
And when he returned, she was on her side, both hands tucked beneath her cheek. Still fatigued by the entire week, he lay next to her on his back.
For a second time, he found himself spooning Ivy during the night, drawn to her body heat. She was becoming a desirable furnace in his usually cold bed.
CHAPTER 19
WILLIAM’S BED WAS OFTEN cold; he preferred it, or so he thought. But he’d never slept as soundly as last night. There was a soft body wrapped against him from behind. Her breath tickling his neck. An arm locked around his middle. A leg thrown over his hip. A pussy rubbing against his ass. Somewhere during the night, she’d spooned him. Ivy’s body heat, which was scorching, was a warm blanket that had managed to give him a good night’s rest.
“I know you’re awake,” William said; he could tell from her breathing.
She moved away from him and took all the heat with her. William planned to leave before she began talking.
As usual, she beat him to it, touching on a random subject. “I heard Charles mention that the girls aren’t safe in Sins; that men cross boundaries.”
William faced her in a quick motion with his brows hitting his hairline. Apparently, she stripped her dress after they fell asleep because she was completely naked with the sheet around her waist. Those beautiful breasts caught his eye.
Ivy merely shrugged. “It was too warm.”
She was entirely unpredictable. Although it was obvious that she observed everything around her, he wouldn’t have guessed she had the audacity to meddle in his business. And he was right; she didn’t meddle, just gave her two cents.
She mused aloud, “I’ve seen the girls scream in passion. I’ve even done that. I mean, scream ‘stop’ when you actually desire a man to continue.” Ivy looked straight at him. “What you need is for the girls to have a signal when it’s too much, or when a client is going too far, and he hasn’t paid for it.”
“A signal?” That wasn’t a bad idea.
“Yes, so that the client knows when to stop, or so that Silk and the other guards know when to intervene,” she elaborated.
“Or perhaps another word, not ‘stop’, but a random word, since a signal would be difficult to give if they’re all tied up,” William pondered.
“Exactly, something to ensure their safety. I can’t imagine you want a club with abused women – your employees will all quit.”
That was true, yet he didn’t confirm her statement. “A stop word of some kind.” He was impressed with how her mind worked and wanted to deliberate with Charles immediately.
Ivy nodded and turned to her side to absentmindedly stroke the chain tattoo on his forearm. She liked to touch him. The hairs on his arm rose from her gratifying caress.
William cupped the back of her head to press his lips to hers once. “That’s actually a good idea. I’m going to wash and tell Charles right now.”
“Can I come with you?” she asked softly.
“No.”
Disappointment clouded her features before she glowered at the ceiling. He took her chin, fixing her dirty look on him. “I’ll be back tonight. I’m taking you to the masquerade in the gambling club.”
Dejection was replaced with dampened joy. At least she knew she wouldn’t be kept in the apartment the entire day, which clearly relieved her.
WILLIAM SMILED WHEN he saw heels next to the sofa in Charles’s apartment that smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Coffee that William knew wasn’t made for Charles; Charles preferred tea. That smile became a wide grin when he passed the dining table that was filled with breakfast: orange juice, strawberries, eggs, bacon, toast. Charles had the maid working hard this morning, thankfully, because William was famished. So he sat down at the head of the table and filled a plate with scrambled eggs. Then he opened the newspaper to scour for information on the missing Ivy Ravensdale. He found none.
Down the hall, a door opened and voices drifted out to William. He loudly clanked his fork on the plate to let Charles know he was there.
And Charles understood it. “Wait here. I need to get rid of my annoying partner, who’s probably eating our breakfast.”
A female voice answered, “Okay.”
And they were definitely kissing now; the silence spoke volumes, until he heard Charles stomping toward the living room.
“Get your arse out of my chair!” was all Charles said, wrapping his velvet robe closed.
William lowered the newspaper and arched a brow. “Well, well, look who finally bestows us with his presence.” Folding the paper, he shoveled a large forkful of eggs into his mouth. “I actually came to run something by you, then I’ll leave you two lovers alone.” He winked as Charles poured juice. “What we need in Sins is some kind of stop word for the girls. A word that will let clients know when to stop or let Silk know when to intervene.”
