Billionaire Unveiled: Marcus (The Billionaire's Obsession #11)

I always gave my money readily enough, but I preferred to do it in private. I didn’t need public adoration for donating money to a good cause the way Greg seemed to crave it.

He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. “I want everything you have,” he said bitterly. “I don’t want your mind somewhere else when I’m speaking to you.”

“Greg, that hurts,” I said firmly, trying to pull back.

“I don’t give a shit if it hurts. I want it to hurt. Maybe you’ll remember who you answer to and who you’re with.”

His venomous stare was starting to scare me, but I didn’t want him to know.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” I tried not to let him see me sweat.

Thankfully, his painful grip on my hair finally released, but I wasn’t expecting the powerful backhanded blow he let fly on my face.

My cheek felt like it exploded, and my head jerked to one side. Tears filled my eyes from the pain. He hadn’t held back. He’d let go full force.

My hand flew to my face, as I took a step back. “Why did you do that?”

He sneered. “Because I can,” he answered darkly. “I’m your goddamn master, Dani. Haven’t you figured that out by now? I’m in charge of any woman I date.”

“I wore what you wanted. I did what you wanted,” I reminded him.

“But I didn’t have your complete attention. Do I have it now?”

I looked at him and nodded because I didn’t think I could handle another blow like the one I’d just taken.

“Good,” he answered smugly. “I think it’s time I fucked you. Past time. Be at my house next Friday night, and wear something sexy.”

I swallowed hard and kept silent as he moved forward and stroked a hand down my injured cheek. “I didn’t want to have to do that to you,” he said in an eerily calm voice. “You made me do it. I can’t lose control of anything, especially my women. I don’t share, Dani. I’ll never share.”

I couldn’t very well say that he didn’t have to share. Truth was, all I’d thought about all night was Marcus.

His fingers pushed sadistically on my throbbing cheekbone. “That will leave my mark,” he mused. “I like it. Your face will be black and blue by my hand.”

Jesus! I was hoping that was enough. I’d suffered through worse beatings at the hands of the terrorists. Much worse. But it was so much harder dealing with abuse from somebody when I wasn’t a captive.

I let out a silent breath of relief as he turned and walked toward the door. “Next Friday. Be there or I’ll come and find you, and it won’t be pleasant for you,” he threatened.

“I’ll be there. What time?”

He seemed to consider my question for a moment before he answered. “Eight o’clock. Be on time, and plan on spending the night. My girls aren’t usually capable of leaving after I’m done with them. I like it rough. Very rough.”

I inwardly cringed, but outwardly showed no reaction to his comment. I was pretty sure he handled his women in bed the same way he did out of the sack.

I slowly followed him to the door and then opened it for him. “I’ll see you then,” I muttered.

He shot me a look totally devoid of emotion. “Don’t disappoint me. I hate being disappointed.”

“I won’t,” I agreed meekly.

I’d known that Gregory Becker had a very hard edge when I’d decided to go out with him. None of what was happening should be surprising, but it was a sharp contrast to what had happened with Marcus.

He turned and walked out the door, and I closed it with a heavy sigh.

My first priority was to get into the kitchen and get a bag of ice for my face. It hurt like hell, and I wasn’t used to taking beatings anymore. It could have been a lot worse, but the volatile impact of his hand colliding with my face was causing my cheek to throb.

I held the ice to my face and kicked out of the high heels that were killing my feet.

All I wanted was to scrub off the layers of makeup from my skin, lose the butt-hugging dress I had on, and get into a warm bath.

I didn’t want to think about what Greg had said.

I wanted to remember what Marcus had done to my body, and how I’d responded. Yeah, I knew that I could never let something like that happen with Marcus again, but I’d felt more alive when I’d been locked in a bathroom stall than I had in a very long time.

“I don’t understand him,” I murmured to myself.

Marcus could have very easily fucked me up against a bathroom wall, but all he’d done was get me off. Hard! It was almost like he said—that it really did give him an enormous amount of pleasure just to see me come.

“What guy does that?” I asked myself.

There was only one answer: Marcus Colter.

I’d been so lost in the scent of him, the taste of him, the passion in his kiss, and the raw carnality of the moment that he could have satisfied himself very easily. But he hadn’t.

The rest of the night had been uncomfortable, and my mind hadn’t been on my date. Greg had needed to repeat himself several times, and my mind had wandered from the superficial conversations he was having with the other guests.

I’d been able to feel Marcus watching me, even when my back was to him. He’d still been at the same table he’d been sitting at all night when Greg and I had left the event.

Just as I was headed toward my coveted bathtub to get water ready, my doorbell rang. My heart raced at the thought that Greg had come back for another round of abuse.

I dropped my ice pack on the side table next to the couch.

After moving close to the door, I opened it cautiously, braced for whatever Greg was going to throw at me this time.

“Marcus,” I said in a breathless voice. My body sagged in relief, happy I wasn’t going to have to face Greg again.

I let him in and closed the door quickly behind him, noticing he was still wearing his tux.

“Are you okay?” he questioned in a husky voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he told me urgently. “Dani, somehow I need to make you understand that you don’t need Becker. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

The gruff, concerned tone of his voice nearly broke me. I looked at him pleadingly. “Please, Marcus, not now.”

I wasn’t capable of any further conflict. I still struggled with some issues from my kidnapping, and I was shaken by Greg’s treatment just a short time earlier.

“What in the hell happened to you?” he asked in a terrifyingly angry voice.

I stepped back from him, but he proceeded forward, wrapping his arm around my waist while he tipped my face up. “Dani, did that bastard hit you?” His fingers trailed, featherlight, over my cheek.

“It’s no big deal. I made him mad.” I tried to pull away, not because his touch hurt me, but because Marcus affected me in ways I didn’t understand.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his gray eyes swirling with fury. “What the fuck! Why are you letting this happen, Danica? Make me understand, and then I’ll go after the little prick.”