Corrupted Chaos (Tarnished Empire)

“We won’t want.” Cade cut him off, his tone hard and definitive.

Grabbing his shirt, Rodney mumbled that he had to try before he left the room. Neither of us moved until we heard the front door open and close. Then Cade was pulling me back toward the headboard and situating me on the pillows. He disappeared for only a moment to return with neck ties.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Haven’t you looked down lately, dollface?”

Confused, I peered around me.

“You’re over the red line, which means you’re on my side of the bed and have to obey my rules.”

“We just obeyed your rules,” I pointed out, turning to my side and propping my head on my elbow. He didn’t let me lounge there, though; he pushed me onto my back, dragged his hand down my arm, and took my wrist.

“Give me your other wrist,” he murmured.

I laughed nervously. “I’m spent, Cade. You just had a man finger me and then you fucked me. I don’t need to be tied up.”

He’d stopped listening and grabbed my other wrist to fasten the silk tie. Once done, he lifted my hands above my head and tied me to the headboard. “My side, my rules.”

“I think this whole ‘your side, my side’ thing is a little bit on the nose.”

“It was your idea to begin with.”

“I did it based on the principle of the matter—”

“Right.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard running water before he came back with a warm washcloth. Instead of continuing to argue with me, he dragged the towel over my cleavage and across my nipples, back and forth, back and forth. “Tell me, dollface, what was that principle again?”

He asked me only after a minute of standing over me, working my breasts, and quite frankly, I couldn’t talk, let alone remember what the principle was. “Are you going to stand over me all night?”

“I’m cleaning you up. As you said, another man’s hands were on you.” He slid the towel down my stomach, to my hips, over my clit, and then between my folds.

“You invited him here, Cade,” I reminded him, because suddenly I saw his real emotion. He was letting it unfurl around us as he took his time wiping every spot Rodney had touched like he needed to make sure I’d be washed of him. “It was fun, right? You enjoyed yourself.”

“I always enjoy hearing you get off and fucking your pussy, Izzy. Admittedly, I think I enjoy it more when it’s just me.”

“Okay.” I dragged out the word.

Cade slid one finger all the way up in me slowly and curled it into my G-spot without further discussion. “You’re wet again, Ms. Hardy. Should we stop messing with fuck boys and give you what you really need?”

He slid it all the way out and let his cock drag over my clit, lubricating me with arousal. Yet, his movements were agonizingly languid. “Jesus.” I arched on the bed, rolling my hips as I tried to get more friction between us, to speed him along.

He went in again slowly as his eyes held mine. In them, I saw the menace now, the jealousy, the way he looked when I wanted to call him Mr. Armanelli. “Was it him or me that pushed you over the edge? Was it his fingers in you or my cock?”

My pussy convulsed and tightened around him at the words. And he snatched that finger back. I whimpered, “Please, Cade.” He smiled at me darkly, and I yanked on the ties to see if they’d give. “If you don’t want to get me off, untie me so I can do it myself.”

“Of course I want to get you off. It’s what I’ve aimed to do the whole night. What do you think I’m doing now?” He took a full minute to roll his thumb over my clit . . . just once.

“It’s too slow, Cade. You know it is. I need more. Please.” I was so close again.

“Please what? Tell me what you want this time: me, or for me to call Rodney up again.”

I rolled my hips and looked down at his strong hand between my legs. “If this is how fast we’re moving, we can call Rodney again.”

He narrowed his eyes in malice. “Really? And tell me, baby doll, who’s the one who makes you cry out always?”

My mouth lifted as the need to piss him off and defy him barreled through me. “Rodney?”

The growl that came from him was so primal and so low it traveled straight up my spine. “You like being a fucking brat, Izzy, I swear. Tell me really. Or I’ll bring you to the edge all night without letting you get off.”

Him staring at me, with his jealousy bleeding through his tone, the way he antagonized me with such slow foreplay, it made every part of me vibrate with frustration, with need, with more emotions than I’d ever let myself feel. And as they barreled through me, I realized I wanted them all. I wanted to feel everything while he fucked me to either heaven or hell. But I wanted to go with him. Only him.

“I want you. Now.”

His touch became powerful, fast, and completely what I needed. He slid three fingers in and fucked me, letting me ride him as fast as I wanted. I unraveled in seconds as I screamed his name and convulsed around him.

He smiled at my wetness, how I practically gushed out my arousal. “Such a pretty, messy brat, aren’t you?” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt. “You know what I like for brats to do?”

“What’s that, Cade?” I whispered, still trying to catch my breath.

He unbuckled his pants and pushed them off. A naked Cade was a masterpiece to witness. He towered over me, his cock straining with that piercing as it stood to attention again, thicker and bigger than I kept thinking I could take. Yet, I’d just had him, and my mouth watered to do it all over again.

“I like for brats to be quiet and listen. We have a much better use for your mouth than to have you be talking right now.”

He didn’t give me much time to respond before he climbed over me and tilted his dick to my lips. He placed his hands on the wall above the headboard and said, “Open.”

“I—”

He thrust in. He really did want me to shut up. He fucked my mouth hard and fast like he needed it to sustain life. I took every thrust with pleasure and rocked my hips as I did. I loved seeing him coming undone, loved how he needed me in the moment, and loved the words he growled as he did. “I’m going to fuck you all night, dollface. Fuck you till you can’t walk, can’t breathe, can’t talk—unless it’s to scream my name. And it will be only my name you’re screaming.”

He pushed himself off me fast before he came in my mouth, and then he was down by my lower half, putting a pillow under my ass. “No more men near my pussy, you understand?”

“Cade,” I pulled at the tie again. “It was just f—”

“No more fun unless it’s with me.” He parted my folds again. “You’re mine.”

“Cade, there’s no way I can get there again,” I murmured because I felt my body shaking, not sure I could handle another.

He smiled with confidence. “I get one more. And then I’m still going to fuck you, baby. You’re on my side. My side, my rules.”

He lowered his head, and his tongue ravished me.

I screamed his name the whole night. I blacked out screaming it, I think. And I didn’t regret it, not even for a moment.

What this man orchestrated, what he gave me, what he let me do without shame, it was dangerous, because I realized I didn’t want to bottle up my emotions and desire anymore.

I felt free.

I felt alive and indestructible.

But I wasn’t.





18





Cade





I woke to the faint buzz of Izzy’s phone vibrating from the living room. Someone was texting her again, and with it being so damn early, I needed to know who. Not wanting to move from her side, though, I grabbed my phone and did what I did best.

I hacked hers.

It was a complete invasion of her privacy, something a man should never do, and yet I did it with no remorse. The woman wasn’t going to have any secrets from me for too much longer if we kept going at this pace anyway.

I took over her system so I could operate her phone as if I were holding it and accessed her new messages. Over thirteen new ones, all from her ex.

I clicked into the inbox and saw red—hot, deep, anger. The man had been texting her nonstop. Berating her. Threatening her. Complaining to her about his stupid daddy’s company. Loving her. Hating her. Coaxing her. Sending her pictures. And now there were pictures of the flowers he said he’d left at her doorstep.

He was a goddamn stalker. Said me, the guy scrolling through her phone without permission. But Izzy was mine to fuck with. Not someone else’s. She did the same to me time and time again.

With Gerald, she didn’t answer him or engage with him. He’d fucked with her long enough.

I petted the waves of her hair before I curled up next to her and extended my arm to snap a picture. When I was satisfied with the outcome, I sent it his way with a text.

Me: She’s fine. She’s asleep with me. And she doesn’t like lilies, dipshit. Stop sending them.

Gerald: Is that Cade Armanelli?



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