If I could handle it, I would keep my dick in my pants and only focus on her.
As we crossed the massive foyer, Selix strode ahead to process our check-in. Slowing down, I touched Pim’s elbow, guiding her toward a large marble pillar to stand clear of milling guests, suitcases, and bellhops.
“Do you like it?” I asked, following her gaze as she glowered at a piano and an elderly man playing ‘Hungarian Rhapsody’. Her spine locked as the classical piece spread like perfume through the foyer, infiltrating every corner and shadow. The common fear whenever she heard music shone in her eyes. She swallowed and visibly shook herself free from the melody’s hold.
“Yes, it’s lovely.” She smiled distractedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the man’s fingers flying over the black and ivory keys.
I hated to see her so torn. I adored everything to do with music, and it upset me not to share that. I didn’t want tonight to be stolen thanks to her conditioning toward classical songs.
I’d tried to break those chains with my cello. Obviously, I needed to force her to play more often. To sit her between my legs while my fingers kept hers trapped on the strings. To hold her close while I kissed the back of her neck and dragged my bow to create wonderful sounds.
I’d find an instrument she connected with and make her play and play until she was the maestro and no one else.
“It’s only notes and rhythm, Pim,” I murmured as tears glittered in her gaze as the melody reached its crescendo. Moving closer, my shoulder kissed hers. “I won’t let it hurt you.”
Her eyes met mine. She gave me a watery smile, growing firmer the longer she stared. “I know. It’s not as bad as before, but it will take time.”
Time we had now she no longer demanded her freedom. Time we didn’t have now I’d started the downward slide into hell.
One night could so easily turn into two, then three, then fifty. She would never be free of me.
Run, Pim…while you have the chance.
Selix returned, holding a key. “Diamond suite Charles Garnier. Two bedrooms. Almost as nice as the Diamond suite Winston Churchill but that’s not available due to renovations.”
I cocked my eyebrow at the two-bedroom remark. As far as I was concerned, one was all we needed. Pim had entered this hotel knowing full well what we would attempt tonight. She stood beside me willingly instead of screaming for help. She hadn’t grabbed the concierge or begged for the police. However, if she decided she didn’t want this to happen, then it would be wise to have two rooms.
Somewhere she could run to and slam a door in my face.
Somewhere I could go and beat up the fucking furniture in frustration.
“Thank you, Selix.” I took the key with a quick fist. “I’ll call if we need you.”
Selix frowned. “You don’t want me to follow you to dinner…just in case?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight. Just us.”
A fleeting fear of the Chinmoku extracting their revenge came and went. Then again, it had been years and they hadn’t found me. Tonight wouldn’t be their night.
It’s ours.
Pim glanced back and forth between us, her thoughts guarded. I’d give anything to know what she thought. How much she wanted this. How much she was terrified.
“Ready?” Holding out my hand, I gave her yet another chance to accept or deny.
I didn’t know which one I wanted her to do anymore.
She swayed back, still expecting a slap or worse, but just as quickly, she half-smiled, looked into my eyes, and bravely placed her hand in mine. “Ready.”
My heart leapt. Then sank like a pirate ship.
Nodding goodbye to Selix, I escorted her to the elevators. We didn’t say a word as the doors opened, we entered, and then were trapped, ascending to our room. The heat of her body, the closeness of her proximity, the knowledge of what we were about to do caused adrenaline to pump through my veins instead of blood.
The doors opened silently, depositing us onto our floor. I led her down the wide French Rivera inspired corridor and inserted the key into a white-painted door.
Opening it, I bowed for her to go first.
With a respectful nod, she drifted forward, a small gasp falling from her lips as she took in the room. “Oh, wow. This…it’s stunning.”
I had to admit, it was beautiful.
The main bedroom was dressed in duck egg blue with a cream four poster bed and heavy ruffles. The windows were double story, taking in the congested harbour, flash of skin from holiday-makers, palm trees, fountains, and cherry reds and canary yellows of Ferraris and Porsches below.
The lounge held turn of the century French baroque chairs with a chaise by the window and large off-white coffee table. Everything was creams or blues or deep rich greys, manipulating my mood from tense to relaxed.
Pim headed toward the master bedroom, ignoring the second, just as nice suite, off the lounge. She sat hesitantly on the high mattress, jumping a little to sit. Her legs dangled while her fingers dug into the expensive linen.
We stared at each other.
Neither ready to speak or move or break whatever spell we were in. I couldn’t stand it. All I could think about was her hands on my cock and her lips against mine.
Needing a distraction from the sudden overwhelming need to touch her, I stalked toward the wardrobe and wrenched it open. As expected, I found my black duffel next to the red parcel and a smaller bag for Pim. Taking both, I headed toward her still sitting on the bed and placed the red package beside the girl I wanted more than anything.
“For you.”
Her eyes widened as I stepped back and dragged a hand through my hair. “Wear them. Not for me. But for you. It’s time to remember just how powerful clothing can be.”
“What do you mean?”
I glanced at the red box, already berating myself for how much harder this would be for me. “I mean the right wardrobe can erase multiple flaws and worries. The right wardrobe can bring your enemy to his knees.”
Her eyes sharpened, trying to decipher what I meant.
Tearing my gaze away, I stalked from the bedroom before she could crack open the box and cause me to lose the rest of my self-control.
I vanished into the bathroom to shower.
To prepare for the best and most likely worst night of my life.
Chapter Twenty
______________________________
Pim
LACE.
Garters.
Sex and sensuality and sin.
The box was full of lingerie all tucked demurely in pink and red tissue paper. To most women, it would be the prelude to one of the most romantic nights of her life. To me, it represented bondage and discomfort and the reminder I was soft while he was hard. I was useable while he was the master who could do what he wanted.
His body would go inside mine.