Bought (Assassin's Revenge #2)

“Please…” I begged as his cock raked every inch of my passage, setting every nerve ending afire. “Please, Sir… I need to come.”


His lips ground down on mine. “No,” he growled into my mouth. “Wait.”

I waited. Each wave of pleasure took me higher, higher. I was afraid I’d fall and shatter. I wanted to jump off into release, with or without permission. But I obeyed.

His eyes clenched shut. His cock hammered harder. He was inches from his own release and I tightened my muscles around his shaft, luxuriating in his groan as he felt me. “Cherie,” he muttered. “You will be the death of me.” He opened his brilliant blue eyes and looked into mine. “Come for me, Jenny.”

It didn’t take much more than that. I was ready. All I needed was permission. And when he asked, I climaxed for him, feeling his release at the same time.

As I clutched at him and awareness slowly returned, I realized that this was going to be the most challenging three months of my life. I couldn’t stay rational around Alexander. My body craved his too much, and I was unequipped to handle my own sexual desire.





Chapter 16


Ellie / Jenny:

It had been two years since I was last in Paris. I hadn’t returned since the day we’d fled for Tangier. I’d wanted to keep the memory of the night I spent with Marc perfect and untouched.

But Alexander was Marc and on the plane, I’d added a new memory to my recollections.

We didn’t go back to that small house that I remembered so fondly. The townhouse he took me to was in the centre of the city. Large, spacious and airy, with priceless works of art decorating the walls and glistening chandeliers hanging from the ceilings; this was the home of a rich and powerful man.

He looked at my face. I was struggling to stay awake. It always took me a day or two to adjust to each new time zone. It used to cause Lucien no end of aggravation. “You look like you are about to pass out Jenny,” he said to me.

“Jet lag,” I replied. “It always kills me.”

His eyes narrowed and too late, I realized that my trip to Bangkok was supposedly the first time Jenny Fullerton had left the United States. “At least, I’m assuming that jet lag’s the reason I was out of sorts for two whole days when I got to Bangkok.” I wondered whether my clarification was helping or hurting my cause.

“Why don’t I give you the full tour after you’ve got some rest then?” he said. “Come, let me show you to your bedroom.”

My heart stabbed with sudden pain. He didn’t want me to share his bed? “I thought I’d be sleeping with you,” I asked hesitantly. Raging insecurity swept over me and I didn’t like it. Had I not been good enough in bed for him?

His eyes softened. “You are always welcome to join me,” he clarified. “But we should set up the terms of our agreement in the morning.”

Bile filled my mouth. For a few hours, I’d been pretending that Alexander was my boyfriend. He’d been attentive, warm and caring, and I’d embraced the fantasy. But now that we were in Paris, the arrangement surfaced. I had been paid a million dollars minus Madame Lorraine’s commission to be this man’s submissive for three months. Tomorrow, he would tell me the duties expected of me in exchange.

I should have known better than to need and want Alexander. But it had happened anyway. One night in Paris two years ago and a couple of evenings of kindness. Starved of affection my whole life, that was all it took for me to lower my shields.

“That sounds good,” I responded tonelessly. “Thank you, Alexander.”

For a moment, he looked almost regretful. Then his expression closed and he nodded. “Follow me.”

The bedroom he showed me to, was a far cry from my cell in Abeokuta. Floor to ceiling windows with a view of the Eiffel Tower. The bed was large and comfortable looking. Pillows were piled high and the bedspread was grey silk. There was a small seating area to one side, where a loveseat covered with the same grey silk was flanked by two spindly looking chairs. A large TV hung from the wall. Doors led to an en-suite bathroom, a walk-in closet and to a small balcony that overlooked the street below. It was a lovely room and I didn’t care; all I wanted to do was to curl up next to him.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he replied. “Get some rest.”

“Thank you.”

Though my body screamed out for a sound night’s sleep, I was too wound up. My mind churned as a thousand swirling thoughts competed with each other.

He’d been warm and kind and funny. But it seemed that new rules would go into effect tomorrow. I was fighting not to panic again. This house was bound to have a dungeon in it. Alexander was my dominant. Tomorrow, I would be expected to obey his wishes.

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