Indebted - Piper Stone Page 0,48
market here in America. Why else?”
She shook her head. “I don’t buy that. You’re obviously successful, wealthy beyond anything I’ve ever known, but you’re so desperately unhappy. Why? Don’t you have family who cares about you?”
“Leave my family out of this!” I snapped then yanked back my unbridled emotions. “They mean nothing to me. Nothing. This is my success entirely.”
“Success means nothing if you can’t share it with someone.”
Her words were cathartic. “Maybe so.”
“You can’t truly want to keep me locked in a room for the rest of my life. Do you? Don’t you want to share a portion of your life with me, your wife, instead of staying alone in the dark?”
My God, her eyes were imploring, pain riddled in every word even as she attempted to pretend, to maintain a sense of strength. I wanted to take her into my arms, shower her with whatever normal emotion I could salvage, but hell, I had no idea how to do that. None.
“The darkness is simply a place of enjoyment, Alessandra. You are allowed to open your curtains, but you cannot touch mine. This is my house. Mine.”
“That means it will never be mine on any level. A big old house with a hundred rooms, the most beautiful furniture so gloriously designed, and I won’t be able to see any of it? Is that what you’re telling me? I won’t be able to go outside in the gardens or take a swim in your gigantic pool? Is that what you want for us?”
I couldn’t answer her. I had nothing I could say. There was nothing that would make any sense.
“I see,” she huffed. “If you plan on simply caging me with a view from a window, then you might as well kill me, or I will find a way to do it myself.”
Another round of anger crept up inside, but this time because of the man I’d become, the loathsome bastard that had been born on the very day I’d stood in my father’s office. On the very day he’d altered my life forever.
Her glare was just as venomous as before, only this time she smiled as she stood in her usual defiant manner. Even in her bare feet and a gown highlighting what God had given her, she wasn’t afraid of the beast. No matter the punishment that I’d doled out, the fact I’d shoved her into a basic prison cell.
She wasn’t afraid.
I rushed toward her, grabbing both her arms and yanking her close. I gathered the sweet stench of the soap I’d used as well as the bottled shampoo I’d deemed acceptable to be placed in her small bathroom. Even as I pulled her onto her toes, likely forcing weight on the injury she’d received from the result of my disturbing behavior.
She. Wasn’t. Afraid.
I was beside myself with grief and guilt, anger and passion even as the desire I felt for her became all consuming. I crushed my mouth over hers, wrapping one arm around her tiny waist and holding her against me. I needed her to feel my excitement, the thirst that would never be quenched. As I swept my tongue over hers, the taste of soap remaining, I was troubled beyond my capabilities of understanding.
She struggled in my arms, pressing one hand against my chest as she moaned into the kiss. Her whimpers were strangled but her body reacted to mine as it had before, the shift of her hips back and forth driving me to the point of sheer madness.
I gathered a scent of her sweet pussy, the taste that had lingered on my tongue long after the first glass of bourbon the night before. I wanted to taste her again, to have her fragrance stain my skin for the remainder of the day.
And I wanted to fuck her.
Her hand relaxed, her fingers clawing my shirt as I dominated her tongue, exploring the dark recesses of her mouth. The entire world seemed at a standstill, my heart beating rapidly, the adrenaline rush eating at every tendon and muscle as the electricity exploded between us. I was lightheaded, allowing my fingers to crawl the silk up the backs of her thighs, shifting my hand underneath.
Suddenly, the world was spinning as the passion intensified.
That is until she shoved her hand against my chest, breaking the connection and stumbling back several feet. She laughed before wiping her mouth, the shimmer in her eyes showing her revulsion. “I would rather be dead than spend the rest of my life