Vow to Protect by J.L. Beck
Adrian
Idon’t know if asking her to strip is a test for her or a test for myself. After only two minutes in this woman’s presence, I’m already butting up against the edge of my control. And that fucking dress should be outlawed. I want to pluck out every single man’s eyeballs who dared to look at her in it or dared to covet her because I watched many of the fight’s spectators note her passing.
If I can do this. If I can watch her remove every single scrap of clothing and not take her right here on the desk, then I know I can handle helping her.
My inability to maintain my control isn’t something I’m willing to consider yet.
Her hands shake as she lifts them to the thick straps that cut into her shoulders. I notice now that the dress is maybe one size too small for her. No wonder it looks so fucking indecent.
Then as if she forgot what she was doing, she drags her hands over to the curve of her waist. I spot the zipper under her arm and wait for her to ask for my help. Again.
When people ask me for things, it usually pisses me off because I don’t work for anyone but myself. But it’s not the same with those big eyes staring at me so innocent and full of hope. It also happens that I’ve been dreaming about ripping Sal’s dick off since I met him. Killing him will be no hardship for me.
“Val,” I whisper. “If you don’t ask for what you need, you’ll never get it.”
Her eyes flash to mine, locking deep, shooting straight to my cock. I swallow and step into her, taking the top of her zipper between my fingers. “Do you want me to help you?”
She nods once, her fingers shaking as they brush my knuckles to pull away.
I carefully slide the zipper down, ensuring I don’t catch it on her skin or any underwear. Underwear she doesn’t seem to be wearing. A ridiculous concept since I’m sure by looking at her this woman has never even had an orgasm in her life. Sweet innocence rolls off her in waves. I almost feel like an asshole for wanting to turn her over the desk right now just to show her what she’s been missing. Almost.
When I’ve finished lowering the zipper, I drop my hands. Any closer and I won’t be able to keep from touching her. Pushing her further than she can handle right now.
“I don’t have all night, sweetie. If you’re serious about this, a little nudity isn’t a high price to pay. Especially for what you’re asking.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes this time as she speaks. “It’s not about being naked. I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’ve taken my clothes off. Maybe you’ll...”
“Rape you?” I supply.
I tuck my hands into the curls at the nape of her neck. “Sweetie, you’re already wet for me. I don’t need to rape you to have you. But if it makes you feel better, all I’m going to do is look at you. For now.”
“Just look?” she whispers, finally bringing a tear-filled gaze to mine.
I release my hold on her. “Look and maybe touch. Nowhere you’d find objectionable. I promise you.”
She stutters out a breath and then quickly jerks the straps of her dress down, down, down to peel off her hips. The tight material has cut into her skin in places, leaving red lines on her creamy pink skin. Her motions are jerky, almost angry, and I smile as she finishes throwing her clothing and shoes on the table.
“Earrings too?” she asked.
I shake my head. “You can leave those. It’s fine. But let’s be reasonable here. Fold your clothing up and put it on the table like a civilized person.”
Her hands shake again, but she does as directed, and my smile grows. Until I finally get a good look at her.
More than just the faint red lines of her dress mar her. Bruises, both old and new, dot her body from her ankle to her neck. I can see the edges under whatever makeup she’s applied to cover them.
Rage fires through me, and I must step away and take a moment so I don’t walk out of this room, go to her house, and shoot every motherfucker in sight.
What’s worse is I hate the fucking way she tucks her delicate chin almost all the way into her chest. As if trying to protect her face without actually making the moves to do it. She can sense my anger but doesn’t realize it’s not directed toward her.
I circle her another time, allowing my anger to cool slightly. It’s not her fault the men in her life don’t understand what a good thing they were given. But I can see it. I see her for what she really is. Some part of me rebels at taking her innocence and corrupting it.
Because the moment I touch her, and I will touch her, all that innocence will be mine.
When I come back around to her front, I lean in to force her gaze to mine, but she studiously looks away. No, she is disassociating from this. And I can’t have that.
Gently, like cupping a baby bird on the end of my finger, I lift her chin away from her chest until I can see her eyes better. She still refuses to look at me.
“Val, look at me, please.” I keep my tone even despite the need to eviscerate and extract revenge for every mark made on her skin.
It takes a few moments of the patience I barely cling to before she meets my eyes. There’s nothing but sharp fear there, and I hate it. It’s all accusation and hatred, and even though it’s not directed at me, I still don’t like it.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Breathe, Little Angel, breathe.”
Her sob comes out first, and she clutches her hand over her lips, eyes wide. I nod and let her go, let her break down in whatever way she needs so I can be there to put the pieces back together. Even if she hadn’t been able to remove her clothing. Even if she walked out of here right now and I never saw her again, I’d still pay a visit to her bastard fiancé and show him what kind of man takes his anger out on his woman. Men like Sal. Men like my father.
I take a moment to compose myself while she does the same. When her hand falls away and she stands with her fingers tucked together behind her back again, I return to meet her eyes. “Now, tell me again what you want me to do to your fiancé?”
She shivers but keeps her gaze on mine. I like a little steel in her spine when it comes to asking for what she wants, and right now, the hard glint in her eyes is making me hard as a fucking rock.
“I want you to kill my fiancé, Sal.”
“Any particular way?”
She shakes her head, losing some of the bravado.
I don’t think she considered that she’d have options on how it’s done. I give her a gentle smile. The ones I use for the society and the simpering girls who will never be strong enough to become my wife.
Then she speaks up before I can question her further. “I want it to hurt. I want him to hurt before he dies.”
Fuck, yes. There she is. Not just an angel then…an angel of death. My angel.
I lift her chin again, only an inch because she kept it up this time, staring me down, daring me to ask questions.
“Anything else you need before we discuss payment?”
She blinks and gestures at herself. “This isn’t payment?”
“Val. You should know how our world works by now. There’s always a cost, and it’s often more than you ever wanted to pay to begin with.”
I study her as she thinks it through. She came here for a killer, and a killer is what she found. But is she brave enough to see it through? I already know the answer. I’m waiting to see if she does.
After a heartbeat, she nods. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t have any money, but I can pay you any other way, or once Sal is gone, maybe I’ll be engaged to someone else, someone who actually has some...”
The idea of another man touching her hits me so hard I jerk away and spin so she doesn’t see the sheer rage on my face at the thought. It would scare her too much, too soon. She’s not ready to see that part of me.
“I have more money than I need. We’ll make a deal, you and me.”
She steps toward me, her bare feet shuffling against the floor. “Then tell me what you want.”
Finally, she understands.
I face her again and stare into her deep doe eyes. Fucking hell, she is gorgeous. And a fighter with an innocent soul. A combination I seem to be drawn to.
“Isn’t it obvious, Angel? I want you.”
“Me?” At that moment, I see the true depths of her naïvety and wonder if she can even make it in this world. I’ve already decided she’s mine, so we’ll figure it out together.
“You, Val. From the moment I met you outside that bathroom, I’ve wanted you. But I’m not Sal. I won’t abuse you like he did. When I take you, you’ll scream in pleasure and rip into my back with your nails out of sheer bliss. I promise you that.”
Her arms tremble as if she’s picturing it. The urge to reach down and cup her pussy to see if she is wet overwhelms me. A tiny part of my brain says I promised I wouldn’t. I can’t scare her away yet. I need to make her mine first.
I back her up against the table, caging her body in with mine without touching any of her soft skin on display. I lean down, my fists beside her hips, and stop only inches from her lush pout. “That’s my offer. You gain your freedom from Sal, but you become mine in return. You should know I’m not an easy man. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want, but I expect, if you make this choice willingly, that you come to it willingly.”
“What’s—” she starts again, voice barely above a whisper. “What’s that mean?”
“It means when you come to me, and Angel, I can’t wait until you do, then you’ll be mine in every way. You can tell me when you don’t like something or if you disagree, but I won’t accept anything less than obedience and your willing participation.”
“Obedience?” Another tremor in her tone.
“Get thoughts of him out of your fucking head right now. I said I’m not that shitbag fiancé of yours, and I mean it. You will belong to me, and you’ll be treated like the angel you are. I have other means to get my way that don’t involve putting bruises on your body.”
Her eyes are wide, tears filling the brims. I let my temper out just enough to scare her, but it’s already too late. Gathering her into my arms gently, I’m mindful of her bruises and let her weep against my chest.
When she finishes, a dark ring of makeup smudges around her eyes, but she looks up at me and nods. “I understand what you are offering, but I’m not the only person it concerns. I need to talk to my cousin, Rose, first.”
“Rose?” I think back to the girl clutching at her friend from the party.
“She’s my cousin and my sister and my best friend. I’m doing this for her. If I go, she comes too. We have to decide together.”
Gently, I ease her away from me. Grabbing her dress, I kneel at her feet and help her step into it. Her cunt is an inch in front of my face, and my mouth waters to taste her. But I hold back because there will be time soon enough.
Once I zip her into the dress and help her put her shoes back on, she’s already wiped her face with a handkerchief. Without the heavy eye makeup, she looks even younger and so fucking corruptible.
I brush my thumb over her cheek and nod. “I’ll give you a few days. And then, my angel, you’ll come back to me.”
