Unwilling Pawn by Measha Stone

Chapter 9

Christian

It was one o’clock in the morning when I finally crossed the threshold into my house. No. Not my house.

My home was in New York. This place belonged to Piotr, my idiot of a cousin who’d caused enough trouble in Chicago that I had to uproot myself to come take care of the problem.

I hadn’t meant to spend the entire day away from Amelia, especially after her little stunt the day before, but things needed to be taken care of. Meetings didn’t always go as planned, and when problems rose, I couldn’t just ignore them.

I’d called the housekeeper to check on Amelia, to be sure she didn’t spend the day sulking in her room. She’d been sound asleep when I left that morning.

The housekeeper relayed that Amelia had ventured out of her room, and once she was told I wasn’t home she helped herself to a grand tour of the house. But she hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch.

If she didn’t eat dinner, I’d have to talk to her. Hunger strikes weren’t going to work with me.

As I made my way to the kitchen, I unbuttoned the sleeves of my shirt and worked the knot loose of my tie. Passing the dining room, I paused to look inside. Everything looked exactly as it had before. Untouched. The whole damn place had a cold, museum-like feeling to it. Piotr enjoyed showboating his wealth.

For a moment, I let myself imagine Amelia sitting at the table. A linen cloth draped over her thighs and her slender fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. She might have had her hair tied up, like the first night I’d seen her, exposing the length of her neck. A tender spot I wanted to run my tongue along. Had she enjoyed the potato dumplings and pork chops Mrs. Kowalski had made? Had she smiled when she’d taken her first bite?

“Mr. Kaczmarek.” Mrs. Kowalski’s voice pulled me from my imagination. She stood in the service doorway leading to the kitchen. Her graying hair already in her curlers, a long cloth robe reached her slippered feet.

“Did I wake you?” I asked. She kept long hours, longer than I expected, but she ignored any attempt I’d made to give her less work. She’d grown used to Piotr’s unreasonable demands on his staff.

“No. I was getting a cup of tea. Would you like something?”

I shook my head. “That’s all right. I think I’ll just turn in.” I looked toward the table again, at the chair Amelia might have sat in. “Did she eat dinner?”

Mrs. Kowalski’s faint smile dropped. “She wasn’t hungry.”

“She hasn’t eaten all day.” I remarked. Every meal brought up to her had been returned untouched.

“She’s nervous, Mr. Kaczmarek. This is a new place. We’re new people. I brought in a bowl of popcorn for her, she may have eaten some of that.” Mrs. Kowalski nodded. “She’s in the media room. I had one of the boys show her how to work the television.” She waved a hand through the air. “All those remotes, I’d never figure it out.”

“She’s still there?” I asked, half turning back toward the hall.

“I believe so.”

“Get your tea and get to bed. You work too damn hard.” I grumbled. “I don’t want to see you in the morning. Take the morning off.” I ordered. I needed to talk with Lukas about hiring more staff. Piotr was tight with his wallet when it came to staffing, but he loved spending the cash on useless baubles.

She smiled warmly at me, the way a grandmother would. “Thank you, Mr. Kaczmarek. Have a good night,” she said and let the swing door closed as she disappeared into the kitchen.

The media room was tucked into the west part of the house. I turned down the last hallway and immediately the sound of the television echoed off the walls of the hallway.

The flickering of the television screen illuminated the darkened room. The room mirrored a movie theater, with a stadium seating arrangement. The front row was the only one with a couch and two recliners. Each following row was lined with leather recliners for guests.

I found Amelia in the front row, dead asleep on the couch. Her head rested on a pillow she must have brought down from the bedroom. One arm hung off the side while the other draped over her stomach. The woman loved her comfy clothes; she wore another pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare.

Cary Grant’s panicked voice boomed from the screen. I found the main remote tucked beneath her leg. After wiggling it out from beneath her, I muted the audio but left the movie playing for light. She was watching an old black and white movie. My mother used to watch the same one when I was little. Arsenic and Old Lace I think it was called. It had been one of her favorites. I wondered if she understood the irony, considering how my father built the family empire. And how he often enjoyed using poison on his enemies.

“Christian?” Amelia stretched her arms over her head as she blinked her eyes open. “What time is it?” she asked, burrowing into her pillow again and sighing softly. The woman was half asleep still. She’d completely forgotten she hated me.

“It’s late.” I brushed her hair from her face. “You should be in bed.”

“Not my bed,” she muttered and curled her legs up toward her chest.

I shook my head at her defiance. “It is for now.” I bent down and scooped her from the couch, cradling her in my arms. Her head rested against my chest and she blew out a long breath, right into my face.

Buttered popcorn. I looked around and found a half full bowl of popcorn on the table beside the couch.

At least she’d eaten something.

As I carried her from the room, her arms wove around my neck. She kept silent as I maneuvered though the house and up to her bedroom, but I could sense she was awake. When I glanced down at her, I caught her gaze. She darted her eyes away.

Her bedroom door was open, so I carried her inside and gently laid her on the bed.

“You need to change,” I said when she began to dig herself beneath the blankets.

“This is fine,” she insisted.

“No. It’s not.” I walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Empty.

She hadn’t unpacked her bag.

I dug around the bag and found a nightshirt—a soft gray shirt with the words Shhh, not until I’ve had my coffee printed on the front. When I brought it to her, she tugged the blanket up to her chin.

“Fine. Just leave it.” She pointed to the nightstand, more awake and alert now that we were in her bedroom.

“Let me help you. You’re sleepy.” I tugged the blanket from her grasp and flicked it down her body to lay at her feet.

“I can do it.”

I reached for the elastic of her leggings before she could bat my hands away.

“Lie still,” I demanded, hardening my voice.

“I don’t need you to undress me,” she said, sounding like a petulant little girl.

“You need to obey me though,” I said, slowly dragging the black leggings over her hips, exposing the soft pink panties beneath. The material was thin and sheer, letting me get a peek of the thin line of curls beneath. I pulled the material over her muscular creamy thighs and lower still until they were free of her body altogether and tossed them to the floor.

“I’ll keep my shirt on,” she said and started to reach for the blankets.

“Lie down,” I ordered, pressing my hand to her shoulder. “I’m looking.”

“At what?” she asked, pushing her thighs together. As though that could hide anything from me.

“At you.” I sat beside her on the bed, bringing my hand flat on her belly. “You’re not wearing a bra,” I noted when her nipples hardened beneath the white t-shirt. “No, no, keep your hands down.” I pushed one wrist to her side.

“Aren’t you tired?” she said, trying to change the conversation.

“Not really.” I lowered my hand, skating across her soft skin to the lacy elastic of her panties. “These are cute.” I dragged the tops of my fingers over the flimsy material, until I reached her sex. “Spread your legs a little for me, Amelia.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I glared down at her. “Disobeying is not a good idea. Doing what I say is always a good idea. How is your ass, by the way?”

She tensed at the mention of her spanking. I was an asshole, taking advantage of her like that. Her guard had slipped from fatigue and I wasn’t going to waste the moment.

“Come on, my little pianist, open your thighs for me. Let me see your pretty pussy.” I stroked just above her pussy, slipping one finger between her thighs. A soft gasp escaped her and when I moved my eyes to hers, I found the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth.

The harder I rubbed my finger over her fabric-covered clit, the softer her thighs became and soon she eased them apart for me.

“That’s a good girl.” I reached up to her mouth, pulling her lip free from her teeth. “A little further,” I urged.

As she glided her legs open, I swept the fabric to the side, exposing her plump, wet pussy. I cupped her with my hand, grinding the heel of it against her clit while my fingers spread her lips open.

“Ah, so wet for me.” I maneuvered onto the bed between her thighs and positioned myself directly over her pussy. Inhaling deeply, I grinned. “Sweet.”

“Christian—”

“No, just lie back. Let me make this good for you. Let me make you feel good.”

She looked down the length of her body at me, eyes hopeful and wide. I wasn’t giving her an honest look into my soul, but while I had her cooperation, I would let her believe me a decent man.

I slipped one finger into her hot, tight passage. Instantly her body gripped me. She let loose a soft moan, her eyes half lidded.

“Do you touch yourself like this?” I asked, slipping a second finger inside her pussy and twisting my fingers from side to side. “Do you lie in bed at night, playing with your pretty pussy until you come all over your fingers?”

My dick pressed against the zipper of my pants, painfully so. But this wasn’t about me, not this time. Right now, I was a teacher. Showing my pupil that if she was a good girl, an obedient girl, she’d get good things in return.

She moaned again as I covered her clit with my mouth, gently sucking it inward and flicking my tongue over it. In and out, I thrust my fingers, curling them at the knuckle.

“Oh!” Her body coiled and her eyes flew open.

Enjoying the sound of her pleasure, I looked up at her as my tongue passed over her clit again and again. I thrust my fingers in faster, harder as I lashed her clit with my tongue, swirling it around then flicking harder and harder.

Her hands slammed against the mattress in fists as she arched her hips upward, toward my mouth, toward the pleasure I was giving her. The pleasure I was allowing her to have.

A tremor ran through her thighs, her belly pulled in tight. Little puffs of air followed by deep moans told me she was close to exploding.

Increasing the pressure of my thrusts, I moved up on one elbow.

“Good girl,” I cooed as her hips rose and fell to match my thrusts. “Come for me, Amelia. Show me what a good girl you are, show me you can obey.” I curled my fingers inward, pressing harder as I plowed them into her cunt.

I watched her face contort; the beautiful, peaceful woman who’d been asleep on the couch not long ago, now had a plea dangling on her lips. Her lips were dry; her chest heaved with her breath.

I rose up over her body, keeping my pace steady, and kissed her cheek.

“Give over, Amelia.” I ordered, leaning into her ear and grabbing her earlobe between my teeth.

One more stroke of my hand and another bite to her ear and she screamed.

My name.

As each wave of her release washed over her, as I felt each pulse of her pussy grabbing my fingers, she called out my name.

When calm came over her body again, her eyes widened and sought mine out. Her cheeks flushed from the pleasure, deepened to a crimson with the knowledge of what I’d given her.

I eased my fingers from her pussy and brought them to my mouth. One by one, I licked them until every bit of her juices was gone. I controlled her gaze the entire time.

“Good girl.” I winked and scooted off the bed. I picked up the blankets bunched at her feet and pulled them up her body, tucking them beneath her chin. “I think you’ll do just fine as a wife.” I clicked off the side table lamp and headed out of the room.

My cock hard and aching in my pants, I would have to find relief before I went to sleep. And with each stroke of my cock, I would picture her pretty little mouth open and waiting to take my seed.

I closed the door to her bedroom, just as something hit the other side of it. I paused, then smiled to myself.

All spit and fire.

This was going to be fun.