Crewe

When we were finished, London got into the shower.

She walked away without speaking a word, her hair stuck to the sweat on her neck. When she walked away, some of my come seeped from her entrance and down the inside of her thigh. I watched it trail down until she was no longer in the room.

Fuck, that was hot.

I lay back on the bed and listened to the shower run. Her naked body was under that warm water, her smooth skin wet and slippery. My body was covered in sweat, and I didn’t want to lie on the bed anymore.

I decided to join her.

She stood under the water with shampoo massaged into her hair. The soap bubbles clung to various parts of her body, including her tits. Her curves were even more beautiful surrounded by a cloud of steam.

She didn’t turn around when I walked inside, either because she didn’t care or didn’t notice. The shower was large, big enough for more than two people, so I wasn’t hogging her space.

I was satisfied with that erotic session, but I wanted to be with her anyway. I’d counted the number of times she said my name.

Four.

Maybe she hated me. Maybe she wished I were dead. But she certainly enjoyed fucking me.

That gave me a strong sense of accomplishment.

I’d never forget the sight of her touching herself, getting her pussy wet by thinking about me. She didn’t even notice that I’d walked into the room because she was lost in the moment, her nipples hard and her breathing deep and rugged. Her thighs were spread wide, and she rubbed that wet clit with everything she had.

When my mouth pressed against her lips, I knew how soaked she was.

Drenched.

She went crazy when I went down on her. Her nails nearly cut me because she gripped me so tightly. She flexed her hips and gave me more of herself, and that only made me want more of her.

She was incredible.

I’d never had sex as amazing as that. I’d never been with a woman so gorgeous. I knew she was my slave and had no way of escape, but that wasn’t an act. She enjoyed me.

Every. Fucking. Inch.

I pressed my chest to her back and wrapped my arms around her petite waist. My mouth found her shoulder, and I pressed a kiss there, tasting the soap she’d just lathered into her body. I preferred to taste my own sweat on her body, but this would do.

She turned her head over her shoulder. “Wanted to keep me company?”

Wanted to keep myself company. “No. Just wanted to save water.” My hands slid across her waist and back to my sides.

“Very noble.” She turned around and tilted her head back so she could rinse the shampoo out of her hair. Her tits were soapy and wet, curvy and flawless. She had the perfect body, and it didn’t seem like she even realized it.

I grabbed the shampoo bottle and squirted some into my hair. I lathered the soap as I watched her stand under the shower, the suds running down her body. She was in a different mood when she was satisfied. Like rose petals on the wind, she drifted slowly. With lidded eyes, she was calm and peaceful.

It was the direct opposite of how she was just minutes ago.

She was a good lay the first time I had her, but the more we were together, the more her colors showed. We knew each other’s bodies better, understood each other’s likes and dislikes. I’d never bedded the same woman so frequently besides Josephine, and that didn’t even count. Our relationship was short and rushed. That’s probably why it didn’t last long. And Josephine wasn’t even that great in the sack. London, on the other hand, was incredible. I wonder if her list of partners was as long as mine.

I never wondered if she left anyone behind. Was she seeing someone when my men snatched her from her bed? Did she have a boyfriend looking for her? Or was she promiscuous like I was, hopping from man to man?

The idea of her being with a bunch of guys suddenly made me angry. It had nothing to do with her lifestyle choice. I just didn’t like picturing other men inside her beside myself. Must be because I owned her. Now that she was my property, I was annoyed that she ever belonged to anyone else.

Man, I was a psychopath.

How could I be irritated with anything she did before I stole her? “Did you leave anyone behind before you joined me in Scotland?” I worded it in a much more appropriate way than I wanted to.

“I told you Joseph is my only family member. I had some friends, but that was about it.”

She didn’t understand my question. “Did you leave a man behind?” If I looked at her social media account, would it say she was in a relationship? Was some nice guy crying over her every night while I fucked her? If that was the case, it didn’t seem like she was thinking about him when I was inside her.

“A man?” She pumped conditioner into her hand before she massaged the ends of her strands. “No. I didn’t leave a man behind.”

The irritation in my chest disappeared. If she did have a man, I would look at her differently. I would feel like I was sharing with someone who wasn’t even there. I moved under the water and rinsed my hair, wearing a mask so she didn’t know what I was thinking. “Been with a lot of guys?”

She did a double take, clearly offended by what I just asked. “Excuse me?”

That came out wrong. I didn’t word that very well. I was just so eager for an answer that I didn’t think it through. “That came out wrong.”

“You bet your ass that came out wrong.”

I wanted to smile at her feistiness. If she hadn’t stood up for herself at that comment, I would think less of her. “You seem experienced. That’s all I was getting at.”

She continued to massage her hair with conditioner.

I wasn’t getting anything out of her, and I didn’t know how to get my answer. “Did you have any serious boyfriends?” That wasn’t too invasive.

She ran her fingers through her hair and coated each strand with the moisture. She had a lot of hair, so it took her a while. “When have you ever beaten around the bush? If you want to know something, just ask.”

My little spitfire. “How many men have you been with other than me?”

She stepped under the shower and tilted her head back. She ran her fingers through her hair as she counted in her head. “Four.”

That’s it? I was expecting a lot more than that. “Four?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I gave her an honest answer. “You’re amazing in bed.”

Her fingers paused in her hair for a moment before she continued to rinse. “It takes two to tango.”

The corner of my lip rose in a smile. “I’ve been with a lot of women. I could have just lain there, and it still would have been spectacular.”

She shrugged then wrapped her fingers around her hair before she squeezed the water out.

“Who were these four guys?”

“What does it matter? Are you going to tell me about every woman you’ve been with?”

“I will if you do.”

“I don’t care about all the women you’ve been with,” she said coldly. “I’m sure you can’t even remember them all.”

Not true. “I remember every woman I sleep with. I have a lot of regulars in various places. It’s not always about hooking up with a stranger before I continue on my way.” I wasn’t that cold. I gave them my attention and my respect—but nothing else.

“But I doubt they ever meant anything to you.”

Only Josephine did before she stabbed me in the back. “What does it matter if they did or didn’t?”

She closed her eyes as the water fell down her face. “I guess it doesn’t.”

“Tell me about these four guys.”

She ran her hands over her hair then stepped out from under the water. “Why are you so interested?”

“Answer the question.” It didn’t matter why I was interested. I just wanted her to answer the damn question.

“The first guy was my high school sweetheart. It didn’t last long, and we were both learning. The second one was my freshman year in college. Went to a party and met a cute guy…you know how that goes. The third guy was my junior year in college. We saw each other for a while. And the last one was from my first year of medical school. We saw each other casually because we were too busy studying.”

Now that I had my answer, I was annoyed. But what did I expect to happen? There was no answer she would give that would make me feel better about the others before me.

“So I’m not very experienced,” she said. “At least, not more than most.”

It seemed like it.

She squeezed the water out of her hair again. “Is the interrogation over?”

I ignored the irritation in her voice. “Was never meant to be an interrogation.”

“If you learned to talk to people the correct way, people would open up to you.”

I didn’t want to take the time to learn. I just wanted my answers immediately.

She left the shower running and stepped out and grabbed a towel. Her ass was perky, and her thighs were toned. I wanted to trail my fingers up and down the back of her leg, to feel the smoothness of her skin. She patted her hair dry before she dried her hair with a blow-dryer and moisturized her skin.

I stayed in the shower and watched her discreetly, taking in every inch of her luscious curves. Her beauty captured my attention, but everything underneath her skin was more fascinating to me. Her feistiness never waned, and she always fought for self-respect even if I insulted her. Most of the women I dealt with were timid and shy. I could push them around all I wanted because they never stood up to me. Josephine was like that.

London never was.

That opposition should annoy me, but it didn’t. I respected a woman who respected herself. I was aroused by the fire that constantly burned behind her eyes. The only time she was compliant was when my commands turned sexual. She didn’t have a problem following orders then.

Because she liked it.

The two of us had very little in common, but our chemistry was scorching. I liked the fact that she needed me once in a while. The rest of the time, she handled herself. She wasn’t a damsel in distress. She barely needed me for anything.

It was a nice change.

Seeing Josephine crawl back to me and admit she made a mistake was a major turn-off. I never fantasized about her coming back to me, and I respected her less because of it. She traded in my love for royalty—because I wasn’t good enough.

Fuck her.

If any man ever earned London’s love, they must have truly deserved it. She wasn’t easy to impress. There was nothing a man could give her that she couldn’t give herself. Independent and strong, she was perfect. After she was captured, she still fought me tooth and nail. Anyone else would have sobbed all day and night, but she never shed a tear.

She was tough as steel.

Dunbar texted me. We’re ready for you, sir.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and walked into the bedroom. London was sitting on the couch reading a book. She never watched TV or read the magazines my men brought for her. She had a very specific way of entertaining herself. “We’re leaving.”

She finished the paragraph she was reading before she gave me her attention. “For good?”

“Just for the afternoon. Come on.” I was in my jeans and t-shirt today since I had no meetings. I’d hit my private gym and went for a run along the countryside road before London had woken up that morning.

“I’m not a dog.” She snapped the book shut. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping. There’s a Valentino studio in Florence.”

“A Valentine what?”

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t recognize designer clothing. She was too absorbed in school to care about fashion. “We need to get you a gown for the opening in a few weeks.” I never had to repeat myself so many times with other people. Anytime London and I spoke, our argument just went around and around.

“You’re taking me to your distillery opening?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes. Now get your ass up so we can go.”

She finally stood up. “Why are you taking me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I’m not good for this sort of thing.”

“You did find at the Holyrood celebration.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I hardly said a word, and I stuck to your side the entire time. I wasn’t much company.”

“I like a quiet woman.” I grinned because I knew that would piss her off.

And it did. “Interesting. I like a silent man.”

I loved her comebacks. “I’m not taking you for your conversational skills. I’m taking you because you look absolutely gorgeous—clothed or unclothed.”

The compliment didn’t affect her like my other ones did. “Take someone else, Crewe. I don’t want to go.”

Both of my eyebrows rose at her disobedience. “I don’t recall giving you a say in the matter.” Did I need to pull out the transmitter and remind her what was at stake? That I could kill her brother with the press of my thumb?

“Look, I don’t want to go. Take someone who would truly enjoy the evening and your company.”

“I want to take you. That’s final.” I didn’t want to hear another word out of her. My word was law. I always got my way—no matter what.

She crossed her arms over her chest and retained her angry look. “No.”

Now she’d crossed a line. “Do I need to remind you that your brother’s life is in my hands?” I inched closer to her, my jaw hard and my eyes unforgiving. I was tempted to grab her by the neck and throw her on the bed with her pants around her ankles. I wanted to spank her until her ass was blood red.

“I don’t want to be in the same room as that psychopath.” Her words escaped as a whisper, but her voice shook. She never showed fear to anyone, not even me. But the thought of Bones clearly made her uncomfortable, made her twist as if a knife had penetrated deep into her gut. “I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want him to look at me.” She finally ended eye contact and turned her gaze in a different direction, as if she were ashamed of the confession.

I didn’t blame her for being so disturbed. He was so disgusting that I actually changed my mind about handing her over to him. When I’d pictured that chain around her neck as she cradled a broken arm, I’d turned soft. I didn’t want that fate for her. I needed to make Joseph pay for what he did, but I couldn’t waste such a perfect woman. She deserved better than that. This woman actually made me somewhat compassionate—which was an accomplishment. “He won’t lay a hand on you. I promise.”

“I still don’t want to look at him.” She stepped away as if she needed space. “I don’t want to be in the same room as him. I don’t want to breathe the same air. All I’ll think about is the way he grabbed my tits and punched me…like I was some kind of animal.” She turned around altogether, hiding her face.

I suspected tears had built up in her eyes. The only time I’d seen her cry was after her nightmare. She refused to show weakness to anyone, but she allowed me to catch glimpses. Her interaction with Bones was limited, but the three-day period she waited for him to retrieve her must have been just as scarring. She couldn’t sleep or eat because she knew what her fate would be. That must have been the worst part.

I came behind her and rested my hands on her hips. My face pressed against the back of her head, my nose catching the smell of her freshly washed hair. She’d used my shampoo, but it didn’t smell masculine on her. With her own scent, she made it flowery and sexy. I felt the slight but prominent curves of her frame with my fingertips and noticed the way she inhaled deeply the second I touched her. “You’re always safe with me, Lovely. A man won’t even look at you unless they have my explicit permission. You don’t need to be afraid.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be prey…” She’d said that to me once before.

“They call me the scotch king for a reason. I own the industry, and soon I’ll own the world. And as my queen, you don’t need to be afraid of anyone. You’re my possession, and no one will lay a hand on you. I promise.”

She breathed again, feeling my hands glide up her torso. “But I’m not your queen. I’m just your slave…”

I pulled her against my chest and rested my chin on her head. “Either way, you’re still untouchable.” I’d wanted to make Josephine my queen, but being royal in scotch didn’t mean anything to her. Now I needed the right woman for the spot. London couldn’t be the woman for that. She didn’t have the right blood, the right wealth. But she wasn’t nothing either. “You can hold your head high and look him in the eye without fear, Lovely. I’ve never seen you bow before. Don’t start now.”

Jacques looked London up and down, his face a mask as he examined her. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking until he expressed his feelings candidly. His fingertips rested against his lips as he circled her, looking at her specific measurements and her qualities.

I was certain making her look beautiful would be easy.

I sat on the gray couch, and his assistant brought me an expensive bottle of wine and two glasses. I didn’t care for wine, but I drank it to be polite. Some expensive brands of champagne were pleasing, mainly the ones with the highest alcohol content. I crossed my legs and watched London stand on the pedestal, her brown hair over one shoulder and body slumped with a lack of self-confidence. It was out of character for her to look that way, but she was being silently judged by a stranger.

After five minutes of silence, Jacques finally clapped his hands. “I’ve got it.” He disappeared into the back where all the gowns were stored. I didn’t know a lot about fashion, but I knew each dress was nearly one of a kind. They only made them in size zero to six, and even then, there were very of them. Otherwise, all the rich people would be wearing exactly the same thing.

London looked at herself in the mirror, an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes were lifeless, and her shoulders weren’t straight. She still didn’t want to attend this dinner with me, but she’d stopped arguing about it.

Jacques returned. “Here.” He held a sweetheart-cut gown that was a mix of purple and pink fabric. Everything blended together well, having a slight shimmer that wasn’t overpowering. I didn’t know anything about fashion other than the kind of suits I preferred, but I knew that gown was extraordinary. “Put it on then come back out here and show it off.”

London took it by the hanger, her eyes roaming over the fabric like she was studying it with genuine interest. She walked into the fitting room and shut the curtain.

Jacques walked over to me, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. For a fashion expert, he wore the same drab outfit every time I saw him. It didn’t express any presence. “That’s one stunning girl.”

Since he was gay, his comment didn’t bother me. “I know.”

“She’s got the perfect cheekbones, the perfect eyes…that hourglass figure would look perfect on the runway. That dress is a little revealing for a fancy occasion, but I know she’ll pull it off. The second she puts it on, she’ll fall in love.”

I imagined London was a jeans and t-shirt kind of woman. She didn’t seem to care about my expensive cars or real estate. Her tastes were very singular, like fresh flowers in a vase or the sun breaking through the clouds on a cold winter day. She didn’t want things. She just needed something meaningful. “Hopefully. She doesn’t want to attend this party with me.”

“Maybe the dress will change her mind.”

London walked out a moment later and stepped onto the circular riser in the center of the room. The gown was the perfect height for her, and it fit her frame exactly the way Jacques predicted.

He clapped as he walked up behind her. “I knew it would be magnifiqué.” He ran his fingers along the side. “This color is perfect for your skin tone. And your shoulders can totally pull this off.” He walked around as he fluffed the gown, making her look like a model about to be photographed. He joined her on the stage then quickly threw up her hair, putting in a cute braid before he pinned it up. “You’ve got to keep your hair out of your face for this one. You have such nice collarbones, a slender neck, a perfect bust size…” He stepped back and admired her. “Mr. Donoghue, you have to buy this gown for her. I insist.”

I chuckled. “You’re quite the salesman.”

“This dress was made for her.” He walked around her. “Look at her.”

I knew she would look beautiful, but she really was breathtaking. I wanted to rip it off her and fuck her the way I did last night—with all that sweat and passion. She would steal the focus for my opening. People would forget why they were even there once they looked at her. “What do you think, Lovely?”

She stared at herself in the mirror then ran her fingers down the front. “It’s beautiful.”

“Then that’s settled.” Jacques clapped his hands once. “Take it off, and I’ll wrap it up for you. You got a quite a deal, Mr. Donoghue. The price just dropped to ten thousand euro.”

London did a double take. “This is a ten-thousand-dollar dress?”

For the first time, Jacques looked offended. “It’s Valentino, girl. Worth every penny.”

London shut her mouth, knowing anything else she said would get Jacques worked up. She left the stage and returned to the fitting room to get dressed.

Jacques was still flustered by her comment. “Some people don’t understand quality.”

I felt the need to defend her even though I shouldn’t. “She comes from humble beginnings. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well, it’s time to drop the humility. If she’s with you, she’s a very rich woman.”

London and I sat in the back of the car while Dunbar drove us back to the house. London was quiet, having nothing to say after her comment at the studio. Ever since I’d told her she would be my date for the evening, she’d closed like a clam.

I didn’t care for it.

I hit the button on the ceiling and closed the divider between Dunbar and us.

London tensed, probably knowing what was coming.

“That dress looked stunning on you. I hope you like it.”

Her legs were crossed, and she clung to the window like she was trying to get away from me. “It’s gorgeous. I never thought something so expensive would hug my body.”

“I’ve hugged your body plenty of times,” I said with a smile.

She kept her gaze out the window. “I love it, but I don’t care for the price. That’s excessive, if you ask me.”

“You get what you pay for.”

“That dress couldn’t have cost more than a few hundred dollars to make.”

“That’s not the point. Its value extends beyond the fabric. You’ll get used to the finer things in life. Give it time.”

“I’m not so sure…”

I didn’t like this version of her, subdued and defeated. I wanted that fiery backbone, that no-bullshit attitude. I liked the warrior, not the conquered. “I hope the idea of Bones isn’t still weighing you down.”

“He’s not…for the most part.”

Now my interest was piqued. I shouldn’t care about how she felt. Her emotions weren’t my problem. She was there to service me, to do exactly what I asked without question. Her thoughts and opinion didn’t matter.

But I still cared anyway. “What’s on your mind?”

She watched the fields pass before she answered. “If I were back home right now, I’d either be studying for an exam or doing my nightly rounds at the hospital. I wouldn’t be hanging out with friends or having a good time. My life would be centered around work. It would be drab and boring…but it would still be mine. Now I’m in Italy buying an expensive gown and living in a mansion. I’m your prisoner simply because I’m related to your enemy. My favorite person in this new world is your butler. Everything has changed so much… I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

I shouldn’t pity her. Her sadness wasn’t my problem. But I did pity her—a lot. “You know I can never let you go, Lovely. I know this is hard for you, but it’s easier just to accept your fate and not think about the past.”

She shook her head. “The worst part is…you’re the only friend I have. Is it weird that I see you as a friend?”

I saw her in the same light. “Not at all.”

“That I have sex with you and I like it.”

“I like it too.” My cock hardened in my slacks at her confession. There was nothing sexier than pleasing a woman who wanted to be pleased. She fucked me harder than I fucked her most of the time.

“That I feel safe with you.”

“You should feel safe with me.” I would never let anything happen to her unless I wanted it to happen. The only person who would ever end her life would be me. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder in fear.

“That I’m actually grateful you didn’t just kill Joseph once he betrayed you.”

“You should feel grateful,” I whispered. “I’ve been very merciful.”

She rested her elbow on the windowsill and held her chin up with her fingertips. “I miss my old life, but I’m grateful you captured me. There are worse things than living with you…like being Bones’s prisoner. And my brother can still be a free man. If I were offered the trade, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.”

Did that have anything to do with me personally? “You’re loyal. That’s a rare thing to find.”

“We’re family,” she whispered. “Now that I’ve met people like Dunbar and Bones, I know there are truly cruel men out there. You aren’t one of them.”

That offended me. “I am cruel, Lovely.”

“You’ve never laid a hand on me.”

“I’ve slapped you a few times.” And I liked it.

“Because I was talking back or trying to run. You didn’t punch me in the face with all your strength like Bones did.”

Because I didn’t find black eyes sexy.

“You feed me, clothe me, and you don’t put chains around my neck. It could be much worse…that’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re a very optimistic person.” If it were me and there was no way to escape, I would have killed myself.

She shrugged.

“Or you actually like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You wish.”

I grabbed her hand gently and pulled her against me, wanting her to lean against my hard chest rather than the windowsill. “I know you like it.”

“I tolerate you. Big difference.”

“I don’t buy that.”

“Well, you should.”

I grabbed her chin and turned her face toward mine. Her plump lips looked kissable, coated with a thin layer of moisture from her saliva. Her eyes became lidded, prepared for the kiss before I even leaned in. I could feel the shiver through her body, or perhaps I just imagined it because I felt it. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth, not surprised to feel her kiss me back. She always met my passion with her own. She was an incredible kisser, a perfect partner. My tongue dived into her mouth, and I met hers as they danced together. She didn’t kiss me so well because she hated me. She kissed me like that because she enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed her. I pulled away when I’d proved my point. “Like I said, I don’t buy that.”