Royally Shared (The Triple Crown Club #1)

His hand came down on it hard, with a sharp smacking sound, and I gasped out loud.

“Get your hands off—!”

The hand came down again, spanking my ass, jolting my pelvis against his muscled shoulder and sending a tremor through my body.

…And igniting something inside of me.

I blushed bright red at the way my traitorous body reacted to the spank, tingling, and moving against him. Growing hotter.

Getting wet.

I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut and shoving that horrible thought deep down inside.

I would not be turned on by this! This man may have been gorgeous, and captivating, and insanely powerful, and dominating in a way I’d barely dared to admit to myself that I’d dreamed about.

But he was my kidnapper.

He and his friends had bought me, against my will, at a fucking auction.

And I’d be damned if I let my body react like this to a man like that.

I lashed out again, trying to get my knee up into his side, but he suddenly tossed me down onto the bed. I screamed as he came after me, pinning me down against the sheets with his hands holding my wrists down, his weight against my body. I panted, gasping as I felt his hard, muscled, powerful body press the fight out of me.

And yet somehow, it did more than that. Somehow, it pressed heat right through my body as well. I gasped in horrified shock as my pussy throbbed with sudden and wildly unexplainable desire for him.

Yes, on a purely physical, base level, this was a gorgeous man pressing me down onto a bed, my legs spread beneath him and his thick bulge pressing hard against me.

Kidnapped! I reminded myself furiously. This man kidnapped you, or…bought you, or, whatever.

And there was no freaking way I was letting myself get turned on like this by a man like that.

I shoved at him, trying to push him off of me. Except of course, the only effect it had against his strength was my hips rocking up to grind into him, which only got me hotter, and wetter.

“Get off of me!” I hissed, trying to get the anger to cover the red heat in my face.

Oliver grinned.

“Careful Ms. Thorne.”

I glared at him, swallowing the lump in my throat as I felt just how hard and how damn big he was, pressing me there between my legs.

“Careful of what,” I spit.

“You might just find you enjoy being controlled.”

My jaw dropped. “I will do no such—!” I shoved my full weight up into him, shoving him off of me just enough for me to get a hand free. I swung it blindly, gasping in surprise when my palm actually connected with his face.

The room went still, and I froze.

Slowly, Oliver turned back, his eyes blazing ice blue fire. I gasped as he suddenly flipped me around, face down on the bed with my hands behind my back. I bucked against him, but one of his powerful hands held both of mine fast at the small of my back. He used his other hand to push my robe up high, and my eyes went wide as he suddenly yanked my panties down to my knees!

“Just what do you think you’re—!”

I shrieked as his palm came down with a firm crack on my bare little ass, the spank jolting through my body and spreading heat out from his hand. He pulled back and did it again, his firm palm connecting with the tender skin of my ass and making me gasp.

And then, I moaned.

God help me, I closed my eyes, and I moaned as he spanked me. I knew I was bare to him, and I was pretty sure he could fucking see how wet I was by this, there between my legs.

My cheeks burned hot with the thought.

I gasped as Oliver let his hand connect with my ass once more, before he stopped.

And chuckled.

“Looks like I was correct about you enjoying this, Ms. Thorne.”

I closed my eyes as the heat flooded my face.

Suddenly, he was off of me, and rising from the bed. I took a shaky breath before I slowly turned, avoiding his eyes with mine.

“Now then,” he spoke firmly. “That was a warning. I will not be nice next time.”

I looked up, my wide eyes meeting his. There was a raw, dominating fire there that left me breathless. Then, he turned and strode from the room. The door locked behind him.

I sat there on the bed, panting, my cheeks still flushed red, my mind still whirling, and my pussy still throbbing in confusing, horrible desire.

Because I didn’t want him to be nice.

I wanted him to be bad.

I wanted him to be the dark, dominant, even scary man I saw there in his eyes.

I shook my head, letting my breath out and pushing my fingers through my hair.

I must’ve been going insane.





Chapter 8





Oliver




Ash had been right.

This had been a fucking terrible idea.

My blood pumped like gasoline as I paused outside the door to Mia’s room. My fists clenched at my sides, and my jaw tightened as the rush of what’d just happened came pounding through my head.

What had just happened, and what had almost just happened, too.

I’d gotten too close. I’d taken showing her who was in charge, and showing her the discipline I could mete out and pushed it way past what I’d intended. I’d gone to that dark place inside — the place I only went to when I was ready to make a woman submit to me, body and soul.

And that is not what I’d gone in that room to do.

Except, she’d gotten the better of me. Fuck, just being around her shattered my control and seemed to erase any sense of self-restraint I had. Because being around her made me want her — primally, animalistically, in every conceivable way. Being around Mia Thorne made my cock hard as steel and made my blood run hot like fire. It made me want to get her on her knees — submissively, subserviently, her hands tied at her back, and those big doe eyes looking up at me as she learned to say “yes, sir.”

Possessing a woman — dominating her and making her your submissive, was not about force, or some sort of dark, evil desire to subjugate her. It was about showing her how good it could be to give me control of her — all of her. It was about showing her how sweet I could make it if she trusted me, and gave in to me.

And I wanted that with Mia Thorne more than I’d ever wanted it in any woman I’d ever met.

And yet…

I swore silently as my eyes squeezed shut.

Mia wasn’t like women I — or we — had had before. We’d paid for her, as we’d done in the past with women at the Auction House. But again, this was different. Things had changed, and buying a woman against her will?

That was different, and I knew that.

This wasn’t a plaything I’d outbid a competitor for. This wasn’t some nervously eager sub who’d only heard the stories of what Erik, Ash, and I would do to her — the ways we’d dominate her body like she’d never felt before and the ways we’d make her shatter so sweetly.

No, Mia wasn’t that girl.

She was a prisoner. A real, actual prisoner. Yes, her being here kept her safe. And yes, the alternative of letting Ryan Cunningham use and degrade her would have been impossible to let happen.