Once a Myth

A ripple of disgust.

A coil of abhorrence.

She still hadn’t given in entirely.

She still hadn’t accepted her fate.

With meticulous slowness, I pressed my rock-hard cock, still pulsing with cum, against my stomach and winced as I struggled with my zipper. Tugging my shirt over the tip still visible above the waistband, I let my belt hang on either side, casually buttoning up my blazer while she stood weaving before me.

It was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done.

My teeth cracked with self-control and denial of my climax.

Her cheeks blazed as I continued to study her nakedness.

Once again, it’d seemed my ego had come to bite me in the ass. I should never have used my own fantasies as a shopping list. Her body was flawless. Prim but limber. Lean but curvy. Her skin held bruises, rope burn, and ink from her time with the traffickers and the bandage on her neck hinted she’d end up with a little scar from her ordeal.

If she could drive me this close to breaking my infallible rules while dirty, injured, unwashed, and exhausted…what the fuck would she be like after my staff had taken care of her?

She wouldn’t require time to get into shape. She wouldn’t need special meal plans or exercise regimes like some of my other ‘recruits.’ She was perfect in every fucking way and the stormy grey depths of her gaze, still battling lust and loathing, made rage overshadow my hunger.

I wanted to break her into goddamn pieces.

I wanted her to know just who her life belonged to.

Four years wouldn’t be enough.

Cursing those black-coated thoughts, I yanked my cell from my pocket and dialled without ever looking away from Ms Eleanor Grace.

She dragged fingertips down her waist, shivering as goosebumps sprang over her skin. I didn’t know if she was aware that she constantly touched herself, seeking, seeking, always seeking a release.

“Yes?” Cal, my manservant, for all intents and purposes, answered on the second ring. “Need something?”

“Come and collect our newest goddess from my office. Take her to her villa. Ensure no one goes near her, do you understand?”

Eleanor shivered again, her nipples peaking to an all-new tightness just from my voice.

Fuck.

All it would take was one tiny command, and I could be inside her. I could break her apart. I could ensure she learned her lesson that I owned her. Breath, heart, and fucking soul.

With my fingers clutching my cell so tight, the casing cracked a little, I added, “She’s high on elixir. If you let her near any of the guests, I’ll castrate you, got it?”

Cal chuckled in my ear, nonplussed by my threat. He’d heard worse. And he knew what the girls were like when they were drugged.

Watching them in their heat always made me hard to partake in what they so violently wanted and also pity them in their desperation.

However, today, I felt no pity for this girl.

This Jinx…this purchased mistake.

“I’ll ensure she’s kept well away from anything she can fuck.” Cal snickered.

I hung up.

I cupped Eleanor’s cheek.

She immediately turned her head, trying to bury herself in my touch. Her lips met my fingers, and she recoiled, only to suffocate under another wash of elixir and lick my thumb.

“Please.” Her throaty beg made my imprisoned cock ooze another drop of cum. “Please…I need to be filled. I need…” She swallowed hard. “You.”

My stomach knotted itself into an agonising mess.

My balls throbbed with excruciation to shoot the remainder of my pleasure into her.

My entire body could no longer fight the blend of wanting to destroy her, coupled with the hunger of consuming her.

But she wasn’t worth ruining myself over.

She was nothing.

Merely an acquisition to make me richer than I already was.

And fuck, she’d make me rich.

Grabbing her chin, I murmured harshly, “Fuck anything without my permission and the sharks will enjoy a snack, after all.” Tearing my hand from her cheek, I walked around her, stiff, hard, and achy. “Now get out of my fucking office.”

Chapter Eleven

I LOST COUNT OF my orgasms after I hit ten.

Hours blended into each other.

My system revved at a million miles a minute, keeping me alert, alive, and entirely too reactive to any stimuli, yet beneath that thirsting drive for more and more pleasure, I was exhausted.

My limbs had turned into useless noodles. Any sensation against my skin sent me into a full shudder that almost crippled me. The only serenity I’d found was in the lapping ocean outside my villa.

My fingers and toes had wrinkled from staying in liquid for too long, but the thought of dragging my aching, wrung-out form from the weightlessness of salty sea was too much.

I can’t.

I’m…I’m done.

More tears squeezed from my eyes as I floated on my back, mingling with the ocean that kissed and soothed my traitorous body.

Sunset slashes of mauve and mandarin Picassoed the sky above me.

The air temperature had fallen from unbearable to temperate, and the ocean continued its non-judgemental embrace. It cocooned me gently, washed away my abominable behaviour, and rinsed away the finally fading dregs of debilitating need.

I didn’t have a bikini on.

I didn’t care I was naked.

I’d blindingly run into the sea after my fifteenth or fiftieth orgasm, sobbing in fatigue and unable to stand another touch. Even though it was my touch. My fingers that wrung bliss after bliss from my bruised and throbbing body. My hands that couldn’t stop even though I begged for a rest.

I’d put my jumper back on, trying to prevent myself from torture.

I’d tried tying my wrists together with a towel.

Nothing worked.

Unable to take it another minute, I’d bolted from the villa, past the security guard posted so I couldn’t enlist some despicable paying guest to rape me, and over the glittering crystal sand. The beach undulated beneath my bare feet in erotic ways. The splash of cool water on my legs threatened to become sexual, but I threw myself headfirst into the wetness, staying under until my breath grew thin and my heart pounded for another requirement other than drugged desire.

My grey jumper had become waterlogged, dragging me to the shallow bottom where sand glittered through turquoise clarity, and sparkly, metallic fish darted suspiciously around me.

By the time I’d come up for oxygen, I was able to take a breath that didn’t hunger for yet more pleasure and, in utmost relief, threw off the sodden jumper, watched it sink, then gave everything I was to the sea.

That’d been at least two hours ago, and I still hadn’t moved.

After a man in another suit had carted me from Sinclair’s office and dragged me down yet another sandy pathway, I’d ached with a need so painful I’d almost fallen to my knees when his fingers locked around my elbow.

Sinclair hadn’t looked at me as I was unceremoniously removed from his picture-perfect office. Even after everything that’d happened between us, he looked unruffled and entirely unmoved. No sweat on his brow, no dampness crinkling his clothes.

How cold-blooded must he be to not feel the humid heat or show any signs of the lust scalding his veins? And I knew he had felt lust because he’d almost come. He’d stopped himself. He’d tucked himself away mid-release as if I was an abomination and didn’t deserve whatever consummation we could’ve shared.