Beauty in Lingerie: Lingerie #2

  Beauty in Lingerie

  Lingerie #2

  Penelope Sky

  Hartwick Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by Penelope Sky

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Sapphire

  Conway was gone all day at work. He went to Milan for a meeting with his assistant, Nicole. I knew how devoted he was to his work, so I didn’t expect to see him until dinnertime. So I spent my time at the stables.

  There were only six horses, but each one required extensive work. I started cleaning the stables, raking up their feces, and changing the hay. Sometimes their troughs would get dirty, and they needed to be scrubbed before they were refilled with water.

  Marco appeared in the doorway to the stall. “Sapphire, you don’t need to do that. That’s my job.”

  “I don’t mind.” I held the hose over the now clean trough and filled it with water.

  “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be getting her hands so dirty.”

  Conway already made me feel that way. He wanted to treat me like the possession he viewed me as. “I disagree. I think a real lady gets her hands dirty like a man.”

  He chuckled. “Well said, darling.”

  I walked out of the stall and then guided Aptos back inside, the brown mare with a gentle soul. I placed her inside and shut the door, but she poked her head out to look at me. I rubbed her on the snout. “Good girl.”

  I walked to the next stable, where Carbine was housed. The second the black horse saw me, he turned away, giving me his backside instead of his face. I’d made a connection with all of the horses, but this one was important to click with. He was angry all the time, showcasing a constantly irritated attitude.

  “Not this one,” Marco said. “Let me handle him.”

  “I can do it.” I grabbed the bridle and the reins.

  Marco barricaded the door with his size. “I enjoy having you around here, and if you get hurt, Conway won’t allow it anymore. So I have to keep you safe—for my own self-interest. Just leave Carbine to me. He’s a very aggressive horse.”

  Since he said it so sweetly, I let it go. “Alright, Marco. I’ll take care of Lady, then.”

  “Excellent call.”

  At the end of the day, I left my clothes in a special hamper that Dante had instructed me to use. My shoes and jeans were covered with a mixture of horse shit, wet hay, and dust. He didn’t want any of that touching anything else in the mansion.

  I took a long shower and scrubbed all the dirt off my body. My hair was caked with oil and sweat, and my fingernails were packed with dirt and grime. I rinsed everything away before I stepped out of the shower and wrapped my body in a towel.

  My bedroom was made for a princess, so I didn’t mind being in there. It never had felt like a prison cell since the day I arrived. I had my own space, even a living room where I could read and watch whatever I wanted on TV. Conway had a special program so I could watch American networks because everything else was in Italian.

  Even though I should probably learn the language.

  I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  I suspected Conway would never let me go, and if he did, I would be much older.

  In light of my position, I should be grateful. But a part of me always wondered how my life would have been if none of this had happened. What if I’d stayed in school and finished my education? What if my brother hadn’t gotten mixed up with the wrong people? What if I weren’t living in Conway’s mansion? Would I have fallen in love with my soul mate and had a family?

  Now, I would never know.

  It made me sad, so I tried not to think about it.

  My thoughts turned to Knuckles, thinking about what Conway had said about him the other day. Knuckles was angry that Conway had outbid him, probably because he lost me and took a blow to his pride.

  I never wanted to be underneath that man. I never wanted him to touch me. I never wanted him to look at me.

  I would much rather be with Conway.

  The door to my bedroom opened, and Conway appeared. He was in a three-piece suit, navy blue and crisp. Instead of greeting me with a smile or even a hello, his green eyes focused on me venomously. It wasn’t clear whether he was pleased or pissed. It was a storm of intensity, a warning of an attack.

  I stood in my towel with damp hair, unsure if I should be afraid or not.

  Then he marched toward me, backing me up into the wall. He snatched my towel and yanked it off before he pressed his body into mine. His hand gripped my neck forcefully, and he crushed his mouth to mine.

  Then he kissed me like he hadn’t seen me in weeks.

  With my tits pressed against his chest and my body pinned in place, I kissed him back. My passion ignited the second I felt his flames. My arms circled his neck, and my fingers dug into his hair as I breathed with him. My nipples chafed against his jacket, so I peeled it off his body.

  It fell to the floor with a quiet thud.

  The tie came next, coming loose and falling off his body.

  None of this made any sense. I shouldn’t want to kiss him, no matter how attracted I was to him. I shouldn’t feel indebted to him for protecting me, not when he bought me in the first place. But my life was no longer normal, and it didn’t change the fact that I wanted him. He took my virginity, and now he would always have a piece of me.

  I unbuttoned his collared shirt, starting from the top and moving to the bottom as our kiss continued. He breathed into me deeply, his kiss as ferocious as it was in the beginning. He squeezed my tits and rubbed his thumbs over my nipples.

  I pushed the shirt over his shoulder, finally revealing his perfect body.

  That’s when I saw it—the lipstick on his neck.

  A jolt of jealousy rampaged through my body, so sudden I didn’t even feel it begin. The idea of a woman running her lips over his body while I was shoveling shit in his stables pissed me off. Maybe I was just a possession, but I didn’t expect to share him. He couldn’t take my virginity, fuck me without a condom, and then screw one of his models during the workday.

  I shoved him hard in the chest. “That’s not how this is going to work, asshole.”

  He stumbled back, his expression so blank he clearly had no idea what was going on. He took a few more steps back then stopped, all the muscles in his body tight from the way he tensed. His temper ran rampant through his body, his physique projecting his emotions so easily. He was so cut it didn’t seem real.

  “You can have me, but don’t expect me to turn the other way while you fuck your models at work. I’m not catching anything, so if that’s how this is going to be, then you’re wearing a condom.” I wasn’t sure if a condom would even satisfy me. He took my virginity and did it as romantically as possible—because he knew that was how I wanted it. Maybe I’d let my guard down and assumed more of him than I should. He never said we were exclusive, but if he was bedding me every night, why would he want anyone else?

  He lowered his hands to his sides, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation. “Where is this coming from?”

  I pointed at my neck. “Make sure you wipe off your lipstick marks before you come home, honey.” I felt like a poor wife waiting for her husband to come home, only to find out he was getting his kicks elsewhere.

  He rubbed his palm along his neck then stared at his hand, inspecting the lipstick mark. His eyes narrowed farther before understanding came over his gaze. He lifted his chin and looked at me, his jaw tight. �
��I’m flattered you’re jealous.”

  “Jealous?” I hissed. “I’m not jealous. I’m just pissed.”

  “Same thing.” The corner of his mouth rose in a smile.

  I shook my head and held the towel over my body. “You’re an asshole. Get out of my room.” I stormed into the living room. That way I could shut the door.

  He was close behind me, making sure I couldn’t shut him out of anywhere. “As much as I’m enjoying this, it’s not how it seems.”

  “If you think I’m stupid—”

  He grabbed me by the elbow and jerked me toward him. He pulled the towel away and tossed it off to the side so I couldn’t grab it again. “My models kiss me all the time. You’ve seen them do it. Doesn’t mean I fucked them.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I felt stupid for believing that. I twisted out of his grasp.

  He held me tighter, dragging me against his body. “Muse, if I fucked someone, I wouldn’t hide it from you. I don’t give a damn if I hurt your feelings or not. I’m free to do whatever I want. You’re the one who has to keep her legs closed to anyone but me. That’s the deal—that’s why I bought you.”

  It only partially consoled me. “You’re an asshole.”

  “How else did you think this was going to be?” he demanded. “That we would be exclusive forever?”

  It was a stupid thing to think. I never should have assumed it in the first place. He called me his muse and bought me for so much money that I thought I meant more to him. I thought I would be enough for him. “If you’re fucking me all the time, why do you need anyone else?”

  His eyes shifted back and forth slightly as he stared at me, his fingertips digging into my skin. The gaze was intense and long. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything at all. It wasn’t surprising that he was an incredible designer since he could stare at something without blinking for such a long period of time. “I haven’t been with another woman since the day I met you. But don’t get confused about the nature of our relationship. You’re my toy. I’m the only man who can enjoy you because I own you. But I will enjoy other women when I feel like it. I’m not committed to you whatsoever.”

  I already knew he would say that, but it didn’t minimize the sting. I tried to yank my elbow out of his hold, but his grip was too tight. “I’m not letting you give me anything.”

  “I always wear a condom.”

  “You didn’t wear a condom with me.”

  “Different. You’re the only woman I would do that with.”

  I tried to twist again. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

  “I’m just telling you that you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Then we’re wearing condoms too.”

  He chuckled like I’d made a joke. “You don’t call the shots here, Muse. I do.”

  “That’s bullshit, and we both know it. If I want something, I get it. You act like you’re this asshole, but you give me more freedom than you realize.” I yanked my arm down and finally got free. I grabbed the towel from the floor and covered myself with it.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Muse.” He slowly approached me, his arms by his sides and his jaw clenched with barely restrained anger. He adopted an unthreatening stance, but he’d never seemed so terrifying. “I made things easy on you for the first time.” His hand moved to my elbow, and he grabbed it gently before he turned me around. I cooperated, feeling his quiet hostility. He grabbed the back of my neck and then shoved me into the couch.

  I fell, losing my grip on my towel.

  His pants dropped to the floor, and he pinned me down, my ass up and my face pressed to the cushion. The towel slipped to the floor, and now I was naked, my hair still damp. He got behind me quickly, and before I could fight back, he shoved his hard cock inside me in one swift thrust.

  I lurched forward, gripping the couch cushions for balance.

  He kept my face pinned down and leaned over me, his big cock buried inside my tightness. I barely had time to adjust to him, and he was burrowing through like he owned me. He squeezed my neck harder. “But I won’t be easy on you again. You’re just a trophy, a product in exchange for money. Don’t forget that you’re nothing—and you’ll always be nothing.”

  * * *

  I wasn’t sure what I expected from Conway. Sometimes he seemed like a nice guy. At other times, he seemed like a sadist. He gave me the gentleness and respect I craved, but then he took it away with the snap of a finger.

  Then I was reduced to nothing.

  He spent so much money purchasing me that I assumed I would be his only mistress. I was the inspiration for his lingerie, so why would he want to fuck someone else? He said I was his fantasy, so how could some other woman take my place? It wasn’t jealousy that I felt. It simply didn’t add up.

  He fucked me harder than he ever had on the couch, making me bleed a little. When he was finished, he pulled on his pants and walked out without saying a word to me. He finished his business, and then our conversation was dismissed.

  I stayed in my room for the rest of the day, not wanting to see him after our argument. I didn’t want to see his face, and I certainly didn’t want him to see mine. He fucked me like a whore, pressing my face into the cushion with my ass in the air. But then something terrible happened.

  He made me come.

  I hid it as best I could, but I suspected he knew.

  Conway always knew.

  Now I was ashamed, embarrassed that I enjoyed a man who treated me like an object instead of a human.

  What was wrong with me?

  Dante knocked on my bedroom door. “Dinner is served, miss.”

  I stared at the solid wood door from my seat on the bed. I’d been locked inside my bedroom all evening, spending my time watching TV or reading. The last thing I wanted to do was sit across from Conway like everything was fine. “I’m not hungry.”

  Dante’s footsteps didn’t sound against the floor. He stayed in the exact same spot. “Conway is expecting you.”

  “I don’t give a damn what he expects, Dante.” I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping Conway wouldn’t burst through the door the second Dante told him the news. It forced my heart rate to spike in fear, even though I shouldn’t be afraid of that man.

  Dante’s sigh was audible through the door. “Alright, miss.” His footsteps faded away.

  I waited ten minutes for Conway’s presence to fill the hallway and leak through the crack in the doorway, but it never came. When thirty minutes came and went, I knew he wasn’t coming.

  My stomach growled, but I ignored it.

  I spent the next few hours watching TV and reading before I went to bed. I washed my face, threw my hair in a bun, and then pulled the covers back on my perfectly made bed so I could slip beneath the sheets.

  That’s when I heard his footsteps.

  Just like in Jurassic Park when the dinosaur’s heavy footfalls could be seen in the vibration of the water, an ominous feeling spread over me. My pulse quickened in my neck, and I stared at the door as I waited. I didn’t have a lock on my door, which I was certain was intentional. There was nothing that could stop him from getting to me.

  In a fluid motion, he opened the door and stepped inside. He was only in his sweatpants, his torso a wall of muscle, valleys, and tanned skin. All of his muscles shifted and moved together as he walked. He didn’t need a crown on his head or a ten-thousand-dollar suit on his body to look powerful. Even when he was reduced to nothing but skin, he was more powerful than any man in the world.

  Eyes trained on me, he approached my bed and then pulled down his sweats and boxers at the same time. His enormous cock popped out, nine inches of length and more than a few inches of girth. The first few times we’d had sex, it hurt. That probably wasn’t normal, but I think his large size was responsible for my prolonged discomfort.

  I didn’t resist because there was no point. It didn’t matter how pissed I was, he would get what he wanted. He’d dominated me just a few ho
urs ago, putting himself in charge and reminding me just how insignificant I was.

  He threw back the covers over my legs and then dragged me to the edge of the bed until my ass hung over the mattress. I was in a long nightdress, so he pulled off my panties and hiked the dress over my tits. Then he directed his fat crown against my entrance and pushed inside.

  I tensed at the intrusion, my body resisting the initial push. He stretched me wide apart, pushing my body to new limits. He made me feel fuller than I’d ever felt, his cock pushing on all my walls and making me squeeze around him.

  He stood at the bedside like a statue of a powerful solider. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him, getting me perfectly situated so he could thrust and enjoy me.

  I breathed through the stretch, felt my body trying to acclimate to his enormity.

  He paused as he stared down at me, his cold gaze commanding me with just the strength of his look. He reached his hand out and wrapped his fingers around my neck, making it abundantly clear I was his to enjoy. He didn’t squeeze me, just tightened his grasp enough to feel my pulse. The veins on his hands and forearms popped with his maneuvers, the chiseled lines of his muscle noticeable even in the darkness.

  Then he thrust, moving inside me at a steady pace. He rocked the bed with his movements, making it shake as he moved his dick through my tightness. At first, it was rough. But I felt my body loosen as I rocked with him, felt my wetness emerge and sheathe him.

  I looked at the ceiling, embarrassed that my body would betray me so coldly.

  We fucked in silence, our breathing filling the quiet room. His hands reached up and grabbed my tits, palming them with his rough skin. He squeezed me hard, making my nipples ache as he flicked them harshly.

  But I felt myself moan in response.

  God, why?

  He hooked his arms behind my knees and pinned my legs against my sides. He moved his weight to his arms, leaning over me slightly and deepening the angle of his thrusts. His eyes were on me now, watching me shake with the momentum he gave to our bodies.