Hundreds (Dollar #3)

I clutched it tightly. “How do you feel? Taking this?”

Pim raked fingers through her hair, tussling the glossy strands, waking herself up from the sexual trance we’d slipped into. She deleted the sleek delicious creature from dinner, replacing her with a wilder, somehow even more beautiful version. “The spoon?” She blinked as if conversation was the last thing on her mind.

I knew the feeling.

It was why I chose speaking over grabbing her and kissing her senseless—to give us a little more time. “Yes, the spoon. Do you regret taking it?”

“I should. It wasn’t mine to take.”

“You should? Does that mean you don’t?” My mouth twitched into a proud smile. “Are you saying you enjoyed taking it? That you got a thrill?”

She moved around me, heading toward the bed. “Not really.”

“Liar.” I snapped the word in half.

She spread her hands as if seeking forgiveness. “Fine. It…did things to me. It helped, of course, knowing it was one of thousands of spoons and wouldn’t be missed.”

“Ah, the excuses have started.”

She planted hands on her hips. “I’m not excusing my behaviour. I know it was wrong, and I wouldn’t do it again…but it did show me things about myself that I’d lost.”

“Like what?” My interest skyrocketed. My ears begging for scraps.

“Like the knowledge I missed out on a lot of things. That I don’t want to keep missing out because I’m too scared to try.”

I did my best not to read between her lines. Not to hear a sexual invitation.

“That’s the thrill of thievery, Pim. It only gets worse the more you do it.”

She shook her head. “That minor blip of excitement is nothing compared to the thrill I get when—” She cut herself off, eyes glistening with shock that she’d almost slipped and said something she didn’t want me to know.

My obsession with her exploded from manageable to borderline dangerous. “When you what?” Moving toward her, I locked my spine in place when she stepped backward to avoid me. Having her move away did brutal things to my instincts. It made me want to chase, hunt, devour.

“It doesn’t matter.” She dropped her gaze to the rich blue carpet. “Forget it.”

“I don’t forget anything, Pim.” Tossing the spoon on the bed behind her, I crossed my arms. “Tell me.”

She fidgeted on the spot before inhaling sharply. “It wasn’t a thrill compared to the thrill I get when you kiss me…touch me.” Red glowed on her cheeks. “I-I haven’t been kissed much. I didn’t think I’d like it, but you…” Her eyelashes fanned up, letting me stare into shadowy green eyes. “You make it good.”

“Ah, Christ.” I swallowed a groan as every inch growled to delete the remaining distance and take her. To have her speak to me was one of the greatest rewards after her self-imposed silence. To have her admit she liked kissing me? Fuck, it was more than I could bear.

“Can’t say things like that to me, Pimlico. Especially now.” Stepping away from her, I headed toward my duffel and the small side pocket where I’d packed something for emergencies. My mind was full of body parts and thrusting. Of fast, fierce fucking. Of taking what I wanted with no thought to her traumatised psyche.

The compulsion inside became stronger thanks to Pim’s admission. My lawless thoughts focused on things it shouldn’t.

The curtains were made from fabric with stripes on it. Would it be even stripes or odd if I counted them? The carpet had swirls of lighter blue in the navy. Would the ratio of light and dark be equal?

I closed my eyes, hiding away from overstimulation.

My fingers fluttered over imaginary cello chords doing their best to circumnavigate the disorder in my blood. I wanted to touch Pim. In a way, I needed to touch her to remain centred and not give in.

But it wouldn’t just be touching—it would be complete and utter domination. I would strip her, lick her, climb inside her. I would clutch and ride and hold and manipulate until she’d given me everything.

And because I was fucked up and she was tragic with her history, it would only destroy us. I refused to ruin her progress or mine.

I’m better than that.

I gritted my teeth as I unzipped the duffel pocket and pulled out a pre-rolled joint. The effects of this herbal medicine were minimal but needed. It calmed my mind, made the jagged edges of my preoccupation fade a little, and gave me some peace from needing everything now, immediately, all of it with no exceptions.

The sound of Pim’s heels whispered over the carpet as she came closer.

I turned my back on her, holding the joint while searching for a lighter in my pocket. My fingers struggled to find the fire conjuring device, digging deeper as Pim moved to stand beside me. Sad eyes landed on the weed, her face torn between asking questions and giving me space.

“Don’t ask me not to, Pim,” I grunted as I spotted a spare lighter in my bag and snatched it. “You can’t ask me to do that.”

“I can’t?”

Holding the flame to the joint, I lit it but didn’t inhale. I needed her to understand. This was for her protection as well as mine. I wouldn’t hurt her more than she already had been. I should fix her not make her worse because I couldn’t control myself.

Sweet, cloying smoke rose, stinging my eyes. I still didn’t inhale. “You can’t ask me to stop.”

She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling. “Why?”

“I just told you why.”

Her eyes latched onto mine. “No, tell me a different truth, so I don’t feel as if you’re numbing yourself to be with me. Tell me, so I’m not left thinking you don’t want me after all.”

What a loaded question. An even heavier answer.

I’d already told her at dinner on the Phantom, but I had different reasons tonight.

I craved the first puff of weed, but I held it away, doing my best to be honest. After all, tonight I’d demand every shred of her honesty. She’d have nowhere to hide, no one to help her.

It would be cruel as well as pleasurable, and having such extremes meant I needed all the help I could get.

“Remember what I said to you? That first night in your bedroom at Alrik’s?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, barricading bad memories. “What did you say?”

I wasn’t surprised she didn’t remember, but it made anger bubble beneath the surface, showing how close I was to losing it. “I told you how I wanted to be the first to touch you—to make you wet by my voice alone. That I needed to be the first to lick you—to taste how you come. To watch how beautiful you are when you let go on my tongue.”

She shivered, her skin decorated in goosebumps.

“I told you I’d be the first man to bite your nipples and kiss your stomach and make you realise how much fucking power you have over a man like me.”

She looked up, her breathing quick and prey-like. “Are you going to do that tonight?”

My breathing slowed, heaving and hunting, ready to pounce even while I did my best to hold back. “Do you want me to?”