Unwilling Pawn by Measha Stone

Chapter 16

Amelia

Christian’s place in New York overlooked Central Park. Like a tower hovering over the glistening city below, and I was to be its prisoner.

On the plane, I’d envisioned something more of a fortress than what he brought me to, the penthouse in a high rise on Central Park South. I knew nothing of New York City. I lived my entire life in Chicago. Most of our family vacations were spent on a Caribbean island or a boat cruise, something my father enjoyed. I would have preferred to find a quiet cabin in the woods and escape people.

Looking out of the massive window of Christian’s living room at the car lights and the streetlights laid out before me, it seemed I was far from being able to escape.

It was already dark when we arrived from the airport and Christian had been called away the moment we stepped inside. He’d been busy the entire trip, talking on the phone, pacing his private jet, or huddled with his men at the front of the plane. All while I sat in a captain’s chair at the back, wondering how the hell my life ended up this way.

“Amelia.” Christian’s voice boomed across the open room. While his cousin’s estate dripped of wealth and status, Christian’s tastes were more minimalist. I hadn’t explored further than the living room, but it was comfortable. Masculine in design with the sharp edges of the tables and chairs, but the couches and loveseat had a soft tenderness to them. Like I could sink into one and drift away. Maybe one day it would even feel like home.

I turned from the window.

“Is that the zoo?” I asked with a pointed finger at the window.

He’d already shucked off his suit jacket. His sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows. He’d been hard at work apparently. His tie was gone, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. It gave him a less fierce look, but the danger of Christian Kaczmarek didn’t reside in his clothing.

“It is. Do you like visiting the zoo?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder. “Not really. I find it depressing. All those animals locked in cages instead of being able to run around free in their natural environments. I don’t find their misery entertaining.”

His left eyebrow arched. Maybe he took my comment as a personal shot. It hadn’t been my intention, but I wouldn’t disagree with the comparison.

“Then we can cross that off the list of things you’d like to do here.” He walked across the room, coming to stand next to me at the window. He peered out. “There’s a lot of other things to do that don’t require anyone be put in a cage.”

I turned up to look at him. A smile played on his lips. As I looked at him longer, I noticed a jagged white scar along his jaw running up to his ear. The dark stubble of his beard usually covered it, but he’d shaved this afternoon.

Without thinking, I reached up to touch it. He twitched, but then stilled.

“When did you get this?” I asked softly.

“A long time ago.” He reached across his body and wrapped his warm fingers around my wrist, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss.

“You were cut,” I said, trying to ignore the tingles that his kiss to my wrist caused.

He brought his eyes to mine. Although hard, his gaze softened at the edges. “It was a long time ago, Amelia. Before I knew my strength.”

I pulled my hand from his grip. “You mean when you were peddling on the streets for your father instead of being the boss?”

I expected him to glower at me for my comment, but instead he laughed.

“Peddling? Like I was selling fake Rolex watches from the trunk of my car?” He slipped his hands back into his pockets and returned his attention to the landscape before us. “No. I never did those sorts of things. We have other men for that. When my grandfather moved here from Poland, he’d brought with him what little wealth he’d scraped together by working with a strong family there. They gave him some money, a crew, and instructions to build here in America.”

He turned back to me, with a smile. “So he did.”

“You said your cousin was in Chicago, did he have other family?”

“No siblings.” His voice hardened, like I’d touched a nerve. “The family tree gets a little gnarled after my grandfather came to America.”

“Family can be complicated,” I agreed softly. “Other than Maggie, I don’t know any other family members. Dad seemed cut off from his family mostly and mom didn’t like talking about hers. Probably because they forced her marriage to my dad.” I tried to laugh at the similarity, but I couldn’t seem to muster the strength.

“Your parents had an arranged marriage?” he asked, half turning toward me.

“My dad said their marriage strengthened his business in some way. I’m not sure.” I shook my head, not wanting to go down that road. Mom was never truly happy, I knew that much, but if I let myself think of her that way, I would have to admit my future held nothing but misery. If I was going to keep myself together, I had to have some hope that I could make a life for myself here.

When I looked back up at him, his brow was knit together.

“Your home is nice.” I turned from the window.

“Our home,” he said sharply. “This is our home now, Amelia.”

I ran my fingers over the plush fabric of the couch. “Right.”

Within three strides he was at my side, cupping my cheek and pulling my attention back to him. Such power and strength resided inside him, just looking into his eyes was overwhelming.

“Things don’t have to be cold between us. They can be good.”

“So long as I do everything you say,” I finished for him, pulling out of his grasp.

His jaw tensed. “Is that so horrible?”

“To lose myself inside of someone else?” I answered with my own question. For so long I’d lived beneath the rules and governing of other people. Decisions were ripped from my grasp. Dreams were laughed off. It was a foolish thing to believe that my adult life would be any different.

It’s not as though anyone had ever given me any hope of autonomy.

“We can argue tomorrow. For tonight, pretend you don’t hate me and let me show you how good things can be.” He slipped his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. With a little tug I fell into step with him as he led me out of the living room, through the foyer and down several halls until bringing me to a large bedroom suite.

“Is this your bedroom?” I asked, my stomach already warming at the sight of the massive bed made of dark wood.

“No. It’s our bedroom.” He pulled me completely inside before shutting the door. “You’re my wife and you’ll be in my bed every night.” He stood behind me, brushing my hair away from my neck.

I knew what was coming, but still, when his lips pressed against my bare neck electricity zipped down my spine. As he scraped his teeth over my skin, I curled my toes inside my flats.

“You were a good girl on the plane,” he whispered as he trailed kisses up my neck. “You didn’t fight me. You didn’t try to run away. You were a very good girl for me.” He sunk his hand into my hair, fisting it and pulling my head back until I was looking up at him. “Take off these clothes.” He plucked the neckline of my shirt.

Leaving me standing alone, he went to his closet. I stared at his retreating back for a moment, wondering if I should defy him. I wouldn’t win, that much was certain. And if I was to get to the heart of it, I’d have to admit it was the warm tingles after hearing him call me his good girl that burned the fire of defiance.

I worked the buttons of my blouse open and let it slide from my shoulders, while I shoved off the pair of capri jeans I’d worn for the flight. I kicked off my ballet flats.

“Bra and panties, too, Amelia.” He called from the closet as though he could see me. I leaned over a bit, trying to see him inside the small room, but I couldn’t.

I unclasped my bra and dropped it to the pile of clothes at my feet. After pushing off my panties, I added them to pile.

The longer I stood there, naked and exposed, the more my nerves began to dance. I folded my arms over my stomach, then dropped them to my sides, only to refold them again over my body.

“Arms at your sides.” Christian appeared in the doorway, saving me from myself. In one hand he held a pair of thick leather black cuffs. He brought them to the bed and dropped them.

“What are those for?” I asked stupidly.

“To keep your hands out of my way,” he explained, crooking his finger in my direction. “Come here, Amelia.”

I swallowed, my throat instantly dry when he leveled me with his predatory gaze. Padding across the carpeted floor, I made it to the bed without tripping over myself.

As soon as I was within reach, he grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me to him and capturing my mouth beneath his. I would never get used to the fire this man built inside of me with such a small touch. But no, his kiss was no small thing. Every kiss was a claiming, a proclamation of who I belonged to.

“On the bed,” he growled, gently pushing my shoulders. I scrambled up onto the massive mattress, crawling back away from the edge.

As he locked my gaze with his, he worked the buttons of his shirt open, yanking it from his pants as he removed it. Beneath the shirt was a white cotton tank that he easily ripped over his head. Next, he grabbed hold of his belt, pulling the leather strip through the metal buckle. My ass clenched at the sound.

He grinned.

“You were a good girl, no need to be afraid,” he said, as though he could read my thoughts. He unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down over his hips, leaving him in a pair of black boxers as he climbed onto the bed with me.

“I’m not afraid,” I said, much too late for it to actually sound plausible.

He chuckled. “Now, Amelia, if you start lying to me, I’ll have to reconsider your reward and punish you instead. Is that what you want?” He grabbed the cuffs and reached for my wrists.

“No,” I whispered, watching, enthralled as he wrapped one leather cuff around my right wrist and buckled it closed.

“Good.” He worked the cuff onto my left wrist. “Then you’ll tell me the truth? Anything I ask, you’ll be honest?” He raised his eyes to mine while still buckling the cuff closed.

“Yes, Christian.” I nodded, my body too alive with anticipation to push my luck with his good humor. He clicked a small chain to one cuff.

He winked. “Good girl.” He pointed at the headboard. “Scoot back until you can reach the bars.”

The headboard was a mixture of thick wood planks with small windows with black iron bars. I scooted back to where he wanted me.

“Good, lie down and put your arms over your head so your wrists are by the headboard.” He crawled to the side of me. As soon as I had my wrists up, he took the loose chain and tucked it behind one of the bars before latching it to my second cuff, effectively chaining me to his bed.

“Christian,” I said, tugging against the bar.

He pressed a finger to my mouth. “Shhh, you’re my good girl tonight, remember?”

Moving down the bed, he spread my legs apart, coming to lie between them. With his middle finger, he swept through my pussy lips, gathering all of my juices. I turned my face away when he looked up the length of me with his arrogant grin.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, and already your tight little pussy is wet for me.” He stuck his finger into his mouth, making a popping sound when he pulled it out. My cheeks flamed.

I tried to bring my legs together, but he unleashed a harsh slap to the inside of my left leg.

“No.” He shoved my knee back to the mattress. “You don’t ever try to hide from me. Ever.”

I closed my eyes.

“That means no shutting your eyes against me either, Amelia. Look at me.” He grabbed hold of my thigh, digging his nails into the sensitive flesh there. I hissed, curling my toes and arching my back as the pain washed over my body.

When I brought my eyes back to him, his grin widened. “You love the pain,” he said, dragging his nails across my thigh. Again I groaned. My body strung tight against the pain, knowing it should rebel against it, but my mind softened. My pussy became slicker. My nipples hardened. There was no barrier I could put in place to make the reactions stop, and he enjoyed every one of them.

I couldn’t hide from him even if I wanted to, apparently. He could tell exactly how aroused I was for him, for his touch—his pain.

“Such a good girl.” He lowered his mouth to my pussy. His tongue swirled around my aching clit, flicking it until electricity shot up my spine and I lifted my hips from the bed. He chuckled, and sucked my clit between his teeth, biting down just enough to make me cry out.

I tugged on my restraints. They were keeping me from grabbing him.

“Shhh, I’m enjoying myself. You just lie there for me,” he muttered into my folds as he swished his tongue through them, only to arrive right back at my clit. The assault of pleasure continued, bringing me to the very edge.

I was going to explode. Every muscle strung tight in my body, making me arch up at him. One more stroke, one little flick and I would rocket.

He chuckled again. “No, no, not yet.” He kissed the inside of my thigh. “You’ll come when I say, and not a second before.” He sat back on his heels and grabbed my hips. As though I were nothing more than a piece of paper, he flipped me over onto my belly.

“Christian!” The chain linking my cuffs twisted, but I was still able to move enough that my hands were all right.

“On your knees,” he ordered with a hard smack to my ass. I scrambled to my knees, trying to ignore the fact that my ass was now up in the air right in front of him.

Before I could look back at him, the thick round head of his cock pressed against my pussy. I clenched, unsure if I could take him in this position.

“I’m going to fuck you here.” He pressed his finger to my asshole. Again, my body clenched; an attempt to protect itself. But with Christian there was nothing I could to do stop him if he wanted something.

“No,” I said. “Please, not there.” I leaned my head into the pillows. I was bound to his bed. He could shove his cock into my ass, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything other than take it.

“Not tonight, no.” His finger disappeared for a second only to return, wet—probably from his mouth. “But you won’t come until my cock is in your pussy and my finger is in your ass. So, you’ll need to tell me to finger fuck your asshole.”

I groaned. Then I wouldn’t be coming. There was no way in hell I was going to ask him to do that.

His hands gripped my hips and in one powerful thrust his cock was inside me, filling me and stretching me. I sucked in a breath, trying to gain my mental footing, but Christian liked keeping me teetering on the edge of sanity. His left hand wrapped around my hip, expertly finding my clit.

“Oh, god,” I moaned, arching my back to take his cock further. It hurt and burned, and I loved every bit of the pain.

“That’s good, fuck,” he ground out, pinching my clit. “Your pussy is so hot tonight. So tight.” He flicked his fingertip and just like that I was on the edge, ready to jump into the utopia my orgasm promised me.

“Don’t you come yet. You’re not ready.” He brought his right hand up from my hip and pressed against my asshole.

He plowed into me again and again while his fingers worked my clit. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, every bit of energy was wound up in the coil in my belly. I needed to unleash, I needed to come.

“Go on, ask me,” he commanded, squeezing my clit. That little bit of pain nearly undid me.

“Please, Christian. Please finger fuck my ass,” I cried out, bucking back at him, and wanting him to go deeper, to go harder, to make it hurt so damn good.

In one thrust, his finger invaded my asshole, pushing right past the tight ring of muscle. The burn was exquisite.

“Come for me, Amelia. Go on, come, good girl.” He curled his finger inside my ass.

I was done.

I bucked harder, screaming his name as I claimed what was mine, chasing the purple haze of my release. Wave after wave rippled through my body, stealing my breath, kicking my heart into overdrive. By the time the whirlwind of my orgasm faded, I was only aware of the electric hum of my body.

“Good girl. Fuck, such a good girl!” Christian grunted. Keeping his finger in my ass, he plowed harder into my pussy. “Fuck!” he growled, stilling inside of me as his own release swept him away.

Lost in the cloud of pleasure he’d left me in, I barely registered him slipping out of my body. Or when he unhooked the cuffs from the bed and removed them from my wrists.

I turned on my side, the burn in my ass, the tenderness of my pussy, and the sweet hum of my body warming me.

Christian pulled the covers back and coaxed me beneath them. He bent over, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then my mouth. I rolled over, away from him, but as soon as he climbed into bed, his big arm wrapped around my waist, hauling me up to him.

He rested his chin on my head. “You’re too perfect for a man like me,” he whispered. I don’t think he meant for me to hear it.

But I did.