Beauty in Lingerie Read online

  He didn’t kiss me.

  My fingers locked around his wrists so I had something to hold on to. The tightness inside my pussy didn’t feel as painful as it used to. Now my body had stretched in response to his size. Now I felt the pleasure and none of the pain.

  He finally wore me out.

  My eyes shifted to the mirror on my dresser, which reflected the sight of his tight ass. He clenched every time he thrust, the hunk of muscle leading to a sculpted back. It was powerful and beautiful, sexy to stare at.

  I needed to stop staring at his ass. If I didn’t, I would come.

  “Eyes on me.” His deep voice interrupted our heavy breathing in the darkness. The baritone immediately commanded me.

  My eyes returned to his face. The concentration of his gaze was just as sexy as his ass. His hard jaw immediately tightened, and when his eyes burned with intensity, I knew he was enjoying me. His lips were parted as he breathed, and the sweat began to collect on his forehead. Shit, I was going to come.

  “Don’t fight me. Enjoy me.”

  My nails dug into his forearms as I felt his dick hit me in the perfect spot. “No.”

  He increased his thrusts, hitting me harder and harder.

  Now I didn’t stand a chance. This sexy man held my body hostage. He could control it like a puppet. He could even control my mind. I was powerless to stop it, unable to combat my natural arousal. The first time I saw him on TV, I thought he was the most handsome man in the world. And now he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t resist.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and moaned. “Muse, you’re so wet…”

  I’d never felt so pathetic in my life—and aroused.

  “Come.”

  “No…” I fought him as hard as I could, trying not to think about the pleasure he was causing between my legs.

  He fucked me harder, grinding against me. “Now.”

  My mind resisted him, but my body couldn’t. I came with a moan, my head rolling back and my nails cutting into his forearms. His name erupted from my throat naturally, and I realized how much of a prisoner I truly was. “Yes…”

  His hand grabbed my neck again, and he thrust into me hard, hitting me deep between my legs. He gave a guttural moan before he released, his dick throbbing inside me. He dumped his seed, its weight and warmth immediately noticeable within me. He gave a final moan once he was finished. His dick slowly started to soften, and his fingers stopped gripping me so tightly. Sweat had formed on his chest, and now he looked even sexier than before.

  He slowly pulled out of me, some of his come spilling onto the floor. He left me there as he grabbed his boxers and pants and pulled them up. Then he left my bedroom without turning around. He didn’t kiss me goodnight or extend any affection. We hadn’t slept in the same bed since the first time we were together.

  Like I really meant nothing to him, he just walked out.

  And didn’t look back.

  2

  Conway

  Muse was finally understanding our arrangement.

  She was mine to do with whatever I wished. She had no rights. She wasn’t entitled to an opinion. Her only purpose was to take my cock and enjoy it. I paid a fortune for her, and that debt reduced her to a beautiful woman I got to use on a daily basis.

  She needed to accept it.

  I was free to fuck whomever I wanted. I could have any woman I felt like having, whether it was at work or on the town. She had no right to expect anything from me. For me to be faithful would require me to care about her.

  I didn’t give a damn about her.

  The sooner she understood that, the easier her life would be.

  I was only kind to her once—and that was because I didn’t have the balls to be anything less than gentle. I was a selfish asshole who only cared about money and fame, but I didn’t want to brutally take away something she’d held on to for so long.

  I couldn’t do that.

  But she shouldn’t confuse my niceness for weakness.

  I was still a dick.

  Now that our relationship had been straightened out, the fucking was what I wanted it to be. When I wanted pussy, I barged into her room and took it. She could lie there and fight the pleasure all she wanted.

  We both knew she would come every time.

  When I woke up the following morning, I had my morning swim and then sat at the table where Dante served breakfast. But he only had a place setting for one.

  She was still fighting me. “Tell Sapphire to join us.”

  “I already tried, sir. Says she’s not hungry.”

  She was going to starve herself just to be defiant? “Bring her a tray and tell her to be ready for me in fifteen minutes.” She would know exactly what be ready meant.

  “Yes, sir.” Dante walked away and left me alone to enjoy my meal.

  I could force her to skip breakfast, but I didn’t get off on the idea of her starving. It wasn’t a battle I would take pride in winning, so I just let her get her way. She could refuse to have meals with me, but polite conversation wasn’t that important to me anyway.

  I would fuck her once I was finished.

  I read the newspaper and looked through my emails. Most of them were from Nicole. Her emails flooded my inbox at every hour of the day, from five in the afternoon until two in the morning. She never seemed to stop working, but she was paid the big bucks for that reason. She probably didn’t have much of a personal life.

  My phone rang on the table, and I looked at the screen to see a name I couldn’t ignore. Breakfast was a quiet time for me, when I would read the newspaper and enjoy my coffee. But whenever my mom called, nothing else seemed to matter.

  I took the call. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

  She had a voice that was naturally elegant. I could picture her deep brown hair and blue eyes just by listening to the sound of her voice. She’d always been a lot more easygoing than my father, which was interesting because in most other areas, it was the opposite. My mother knew how to smile, knew how to enjoy life. My father was serious nearly all the time. “Hey, Con. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Even if she were, I would never tell her. “Just having breakfast on the terrace. It’s a beautiful day.”

  “It is. Your father and I just had breakfast with Vanessa in Milan. We were in the area and thought the three of us would stop by.” My parents lived five hours away in the southern part of Italy. They preferred wine country, where the summers were truly hot and humid.

  “Are you here on business?”

  “Your father had a meeting with a restaurant owner in Milan.”

  “That’s nice.” My father was almost sixty, but he’d never slowed down. When I was growing up, he never took sick days and always went to work. He loved to spend time with my mother, but he always needed his own space. Now he was still working even though he could have retired decades ago. That was how he was wired—and I was exactly the same way.

  “We were thinking of stopping by for lunch. You’re at your home in Verona, right?”

  My thoughts immediately went to the woman living on my property. I couldn’t hide her forever, but I wasn’t ready to reveal her either. “I’ll come to you, Mom. I’m sure you guys have already been driving a lot lately.”

  “We don’t mind. Your father wants to see Carbine.”

  Oh, fuck. I couldn’t deny my mother a second time. “What time were you thinking?”

  “Noon?” she asked. “Unless you’re working today?”

  It was Saturday. I didn’t usually go to Milan on the weekends. My other studio was here, and Nicole was always available through email. Now that I’d brought Sapphire with me, I didn’t have a lot of incentive to drive to Milan anymore—not when my inspiration lived with me. “No, I’m off.”

  “Alright. I’m so excited to see you, Con. I miss you so much…” The maternal side of her emerged, her voice reaching a new tone as the sincerity came through the phone. I was almost thirty, but my mother still loved me lik
e I was five.

  “I miss you too, Mama.”

  * * *

  When I found the empty breakfast tray in Muse’s room, I knew she’d already left for the stables.

  I was hoping she would still be there so I could have a morning fuck.

  I walked down the dirt path and reached the barn and stables. Muse was there, carrying a bridle and reins to the tack room. She hung it on the metal hook then wiped her hands on her denim jeans. Even when she was dressed like a cowgirl, she still looked sexy. Made me wonder if I could make a design to complement it, maybe have a photographer shoot her right here in the barn. “Muse.”

  She turned my way, her hair in a braid over one shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in a hostile smolder.

  Fuck, she was hot. I loved that pissed look she gave me. All I had to do was fuck her to make it go away. I’d claimed her innocence and changed her into a sexual woman. I made her enjoy sex, made her enjoy me.

  I walked toward her then gave Marco a meaningful look.

  He disappeared.

  “I have a lot of work to do, so what is it?” she asked, taking a step back and keeping distance between us.

  “I need you to head back to the house and stay in your bedroom for the rest of the day.”

  “Why?”

  I glared at her.

  “It’s not even ten yet,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do and plenty of time to get it done.”

  “That’s what I pay Marco for. So get in the house.”

  “Why?” she repeated.

  “Because I said so,” I hissed.

  We were out in the open with a witness just around the corner. She probably thought she was safe out there, that there was nothing I could do to get her to cooperate.

  She shouldn’t underestimate me.

  She turned away. “I like being out here.”

  I grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her back toward me. “And you can be out here tomorrow. But for today, you need to go inside. Don’t make me ask you again. I’ll take you in one of those stalls and fuck you with your jeans around your ankles. Try me, Muse. Try me.”

  She didn’t jerk away from my grip, but the menace in her eyes suggested she was considering it. “Tell me why.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  My hand tightened on her elbow, and I pulled her closer to me. “I have company coming.”

  “And you don’t want them to see me.” Her eyes narrowed in disgust. “Of course…I’m your dirty little secret.”

  “Or maybe I just don’t want to share you.”

  “Who is it?”

  “My family.”

  Her hostility slowly faded away. “Your family?”

  “My parents and sister. They’re coming over for lunch, and they don’t need to see you.”

  She pulled her arm away slowly. “You’re going to hide me from them forever?”

  “Not sure yet.”

  “They won’t even notice me over here. Tell them I’m just a member of your staff.”

  Now my patience was really waning. I’d never had to argue with someone so much. My orders were followed without question, and her constant inquisition was really pissing me off. “If you don’t get your ass in the house, I’ll slap that pretty face of yours until my handprint is marked on your cheek. Do you understand me?”

  Instead of taking off in fright, she stood her ground. Then she did something I never could have anticipated. She stepped closer to me, getting right in my face. “Do it. Slap me.” She placed her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders. She even turned her face so I had perfect access to her cheek.

  I’d slapped my sister when I was seven years old, and my father beat my ass for it. He told me to never hit a woman as long as I lived. If I did, he would hunt me down and beat my ass again—no matter how old I was. I wasn’t afraid of the pain, but I was certainly afraid of his disappointment.

  The tense silence stretched between us. Muse stared at me with the same hostility as before, hardly blinking as she met my gaze. Then she finally turned away and headed to the house. “That’s what I thought, Conway.” She walked away, her hips shaking as she made her exit.

  I watched her, infuriated, hating myself for letting her prove me wrong. I should have given her the beating of a lifetime to put her in her place. But my anger was mixed with the deepest wave of arousal I’d ever felt. Something about her telling me off got my heart racing. She didn’t hesitate before she called me an asshole, and she didn’t hesitate before she called my bluff.

  Fucking hot.

  * * *

  I walked into her bedroom and found her pile of dirty clothes and boots in the hamper with the plastic lining. She stood at the dresser, looking through her underwear drawer in search of something to wear. She was buck naked, her braid still hanging down one shoulder.

  I stared at her perky ass, the lines under her cheeks perfect. I was hard before I stepped into the room, but now I was even harder than a rock. I crossed the room and wrapped both of my arms around her waist. Then I tossed her on the bed, her back hitting the bed that the maids made shortly after she woke up.

  She didn’t fight me, but she still wore the same look of loathing.

  I dropped my bottoms and didn’t bother with my shirt. I climbed on top of her and pinned her down with my size. My cock was inside her instantly, and I fucked her hard. There was no beginning, middle, or end. It was a just a hard fuck, my cock stretching her small pussy before I even gave her a chance to get used to me.

  Almost instantly, that hostile look faded away. Color filled her cheeks, and her eyes became lidded and heavy. Like a patient failing to fight off anesthesia, she couldn’t resist the spell her hormones were casting over her.

  All I knew was I needed to fuck her—and I needed to do it hard and fast. A million sensations rushed through me in that moment. I was pissed and horny at the same time. I deepened the angle and folded her underneath me, using her for my own perverseness.

  She started to moan because she wasn’t bothering to fight it this time.

  Good.

  I liked the way she stood up to me, called my bluff when she didn’t know what would happen. It was dangerous and stupid, and I respected her bravery. I respected her for speaking her mind and holding her ground. Anyone else I interacted with would have flinched at my intimidation, but she never did.

  “Slap me.”

  She held on to my wrists, the place where she usually touched me. Her hands never explored my body unless I was kissing her. She touched as little of me as possible as part of her resistance.

  “Slap me,” I repeated.

  Uncertainty was in her eyes.

  It wasn’t a trick, a way to give me the opportunity to slap her back. I really just wanted her to hit me.

  She finally hit her palm against my face, but it was weak.

  “Harder.”

  She hit me again.

  “Come on, Muse. Show me how much you hate me.”

  This time, she put all of her strength into the hit. She put her whole arm behind it, hitting me with enough force to make my entire face tingle.

  It was exactly what I wanted.

  I pictured doing the same to her, making her feel the pain I just felt.

  And that was enough for me.

  I came inside her, filling her perfect pussy with come.

  The disappointment in her eyes was unmistakable. She didn’t find her release because I didn’t give her a chance.

  It was intentional.

  “That’s for your little stunt back there.” I pulled out of her, letting my come drip onto her bedding. “And if you touch yourself, I’ll punish you even more.” I didn’t wipe myself off before I pulled my bottoms back on. I had to get ready before my family came over, and I didn’t want to stay and chat with her, not when I was still pissed at her. “Stay here until I tell you otherwise.”

  “I’m not a dog, Conway.” She closed her legs and sat upright, looking thor
oughly fucked and beautiful.

  “No, you aren’t. But you’re my prisoner all the same.”

  * * *

  The black SUV came into the roundabout, black-tinted windows with bulletproof glass. The passenger door opened, and my mother stepped out in a long white dress with tan strappy sandals. Her brown hair was in curls down her chest, and the sunglasses on her face couldn’t hide the happiness in her eyes.

  She gave me the same smile I’d received my entire childhood.

  She hopped slightly as she made her way to me, the excitement written all over her face. I was a grown man and had been out of the house since the day I turned eighteen, but to her, I was still crawling across the floor in a diaper.

  A foot shorter than me, she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me with the strength of a professional wrestler. “My son…” Her cheek rested against my chest, and she breathed a happy sigh.

  I squeezed her back, her petiteness similar to Muse’s. “Hey, Mom.”

  “You’re bigger every time I see you.”

  “I hope not.”

  She chuckled. “You know what I mean.” She pulled away then placed her hand on my cheek. She looked into my expression like I was a painting rather than a person. “You look so much like your father. It makes me very happy.”

  “I’ve always been a little disappointed about it.”

  She chuckled again then pulled her hand away.

  Vanessa came next, her brown hair pulled into an updo and her olive skin beautiful under the summer sun. She wore a strapless yellow dress that was tight around her slender waist. She pulled her sunglasses off her face as she walked toward me. Her eyes were mixed with annoyance but also excitement. She was pissed about the stunt I’d pulled a few weeks ago, but she’d get over it. “Brother.” She hugged me.

  “Sister.” I blew off her hug by giving her a quick pat on the back instead.

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re lucky I have to love you no matter what.”

  “You’re even more lucky.”

  She rolled her eyes and walked into the house.

  My father came next, in black jeans and a black t-shirt. I hardly saw him wear anything else except that color. In fact, I’d never seen him wear the color white. He walked up the steps toward me, his moss green eyes locked on to my face with intense concentration. It was difficult to tell if he was angry or not because he seemed angry all the time—at least he looked that way.