Provoked Read online

Page 4


  Christ, what is he doing to me?

  “I want to know what goes on in your head. I want that more than anything else you could give me. Although, I won’t deny my interest in your other… assets.”

  His fingers ran up my stomach and brushed the underside of my right breast. I shuddered involuntarily. So he does want to sleep with me. Why wasn’t that as abhorrent as it should be?

  Be honest, Liora, you don’t find it abhorrent at all. You wanted him to kiss you in your dream.

  I told my brain to shut up. That bloody dream.

  “So, if you ever want to make your little dream last night a reality…”

  Did he just read my mind?

  I squirmed again. The truth? I was curious if reality matched up to my dream. He didn’t need to know that.

  “Not happening.”

  His breath tickled my ear.

  “You say that, but I can read your body. Don’t think it hasn’t escaped my notice that your nipples are hard.”

  I looked down at my chest.

  Fuck, he’s right.

  Even though they were mostly submerged in hot water, they strained against his t-shirt. I almost crossed my arms over my chest, but that would be admitting far too much.

  “And I wonder what’s going on between your legs. I can only imagine how wet you are.”

  I almost bolted out of the bath and his arms. The only thing keeping me there, the desperate need to know his name.

  He’d hit the nail on the head with that statement. I could feel it despite the water. His words, his fingers and his hard cock pressed into my back had done a number on me.

  I shouldn’t feel this way about him, yet I did. I felt it the day we met when his gaze burnt my skin. And I felt it stronger now.

  Was this why I’d always been reluctant to let myself go completely with Harrison? Was it because I’d been waiting for Nameless just as he’d been waiting for me?

  “Too bad you’ll never know.”

  He laughed, his chest rumbling against my back.

  “Mmm, I think you’ve earnt your question.”

  Had I? Did he mean it?

  I sat up and turned to him. He looked entirely serious. His blue eyes twinkled. The only way I’d know is if I asked.

  “What’s your name?”

  He smiled very slowly, cocking his head to one side as if he was trying to work out why, of all things, I needed that answering.

  “Dante.”

  I sounded it out in my head. It fit him. Nameless had a name. And that name banded itself around my heart.

  “Dante,” I repeated aloud.

  He closed his eyes momentarily as if his name on my lips was something to savour.

  “Your accent…”

  He opened his eyes. They shone with mischief.

  “Say it again.”

  I stared at him. Why would he want that after keeping it from me?

  “Dante.”

  He reached out, tucking his hand behind my neck and pulling me closer until our breath mingled.

  “Say it just like that every day for the rest of our lives and you’ll make me a very happy man.”

  It wasn’t so much that his mouth was inches from mine which made my pulse spike. It was the fact he’d said the rest of our lives.

  Dante was planning to keep me indefinitely.

  And that both terrified and excited me at the same time.

  What the fuck had my father gotten me into?

  Chapter Four

  Dante

  I watched her from across the table. She nursed her cup of tea between two hands, staring out the conservatory window. Dressed in a pale green blouse and jeans, she looked beautiful. That girl could light up any room she was in.

  And the way she says your name.

  I had to lock that thought down. Earlier in the bath, that really fucked me up. I hadn’t expected her to ask for my name. I gave my word I’d answer a question from her honestly. I’d grown up being told your word was law. When she asked for it, I had no choice. And now I wanted to hear it from her lips again.

  Whilst most people pronounced it Dan-tae, she said it more like Don-tae. Her accent already had me under a spell, but this was worse. I found myself drawn to her in ways I couldn’t explain.

  What the hell would he think if he knew how I really felt about my gift?

  He’d make you hand her over to him instead.

  I couldn’t allow that to happen. Liora was mine. I’d have to teach her how to behave around him. How to make him believe she was obedient and answered only to me. And I had to do it soon because he’d be expecting me to bring her to see him.

  I wanted her to want me. I wasn’t like him. Forcing her wasn’t in my DNA. When we were alone, I could treat her the way I wanted. With him, there were rules. The longer I waited to tell her, the harder it would be for both of us. Still, she’d only come to me yesterday. I could give her a little time to adjust.

  I was so fucking happy she was finally here. The girl who’d haunted my dreams and invaded my waking thoughts for the past three years. If only it was under different circumstances.

  She turned to me, forest green eyes wary. I could hardly blame her for being suspicious of my intentions. She should be. I hadn’t done anything untoward in the bath, but I’d wanted to. Having her so close to me, touching her through my t-shirt, the temptation had been there. She knew I desired her, hiding it would’ve been pointless when my cock had been pressed into her back.

  She needed time to come around to me after I’d ended things for her with that boy. Her dreaming of me was unexpected. Deep down, did she want me to kiss her? I’d have to continue to seduce her if I was going to find out.

  “I like your house,” she said. “What I’ve seen of it. Especially this room.”

  The conservatory was one of my favourite parts too. It’d been a bitch to get planning permission, but ultimately worth it. Money was no object when you were the son of a designer and fashion mogul. Liora didn’t know who we were because my father refused the media photos of him. I stayed away from public life, unlike my brother and sisters. Privacy was important to me. She’d find out who we really were soon enough.

  “You can see more if you wish. Brent lives in the basement, but the rest is all mine.”

  I had bought the house nine years ago when I was only eighteen. I’d done it to keep James and the twins away from him. It didn’t stop him coming after us. And now we pretended we were happy families. What went on when we were kids wasn’t spoken about. He had other outlets for his temper now.

  James, Jen and Fi didn’t know the whole truth. Instead, the twins doted on the monster and James hated me. Karma was a fucking bitch. Protecting them cost me everything.

  Everything except her.

  “I’d like that.”

  Her tentative smile caused a myriad of emotions, but I ignored every single one of them.

  “Finish that and you can have a tour.”

  Would it always be this easy with her? I was sure she’d fight me more than she had. Was she biding her time? Or was the mere threat of me hurting her for any indiscretion enough to stay her hand?

  Fuck. I wanted her to fight me. Should I really be thinking about how I could provoke her? My touching her in the bath hadn’t done anything, but then I’d seen the determination in her face when I said I’d reward her with an answer. Was she really so eager to learn my name that she’d let me get away with anything? What would happen when she had no incentive to behave?

  A plan formed in my mind. How far could I take it before she snapped? And when she did snap at me, I was going to enjoy teaching her a lesson. I wasn’t above manipulating her to get what I wanted. I’d do it in a heartbeat.

  She set her cup down and stood. I grinned. She had no idea what she was walking into. I rose, came around the table and took her hand. She looked down at our entwined fingers but said nothing.

  I walked her back t
hrough into the kitchen. I let her look around properly. The staff were only here to clean and cook for me five days a week, mostly. There were times when I sent everyone away except Brent. He was my bodyguard and I supposed a friend. He knew the truth of my relationship with my family and how I’d acquired Liora.

  The kitchen had dark granite countertops and stainless steel cupboards. All the appliances were built in. It wasn’t that I couldn’t cook or that I didn’t have time. Laziness played a part in it, but mostly I just didn’t enjoy having the house to myself.

  Now she was here, things would be different. My pet. Except she was more than that to me. So much more. I wanted her to be my companion, my friend, my lover and ultimately, if she came around to the idea, I wanted her to stand beside me as my equal. But those things couldn’t happen whilst he was around.

  She looked back at me when she’d finished inspecting the appliances. Her eyes told me she wanted to ask something.

  “If you have a question about this room, then ask it.”

  “I like baking. I was wondering if it’d be okay for me to do so. I know I have to earn things, but you said you wanted to know how to reward me if I’m good.”

  She liked to bake. Her father hadn’t told me that.

  “The staff aren’t here at the weekends.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Her eyes shone with anticipation and excitement. How on earth could I say no?

  “Two conditions. One, I can revoke the privilege at any time and two, I get to sample the goods.”

  She nodded, smiling.

  “Well, I can’t eat it all myself.”

  Fuck. She was adorable. I put my hand out to her. She came willingly, her eyes shining as she took my hand and looked up at me. I could not allow myself to get sucked into her happiness no matter how infectious it was.

  The only other room on this floor was the formal dining room at the front of the house, which never got used. I took her up to the first floor and showed her the living room. A huge TV dominated one of the walls, which were painted eggshell blue. My incredibly comfortable sofa faced it and two others faced each other. A couple of armchairs sat by the fireplace.

  She let go of my hand, moving over to the sofa and running her fingers over the dark grey fabric. I hadn’t forgotten my urge to provoke a reaction.

  I came up behind her and pressed her into the back of the sofa, my hands splayed out over her stomach. She stiffened. I dropped my face into her neck, inhaling the scent of lavender and heather that seemed to follow her around.

  “I thought this was a tour,” she said.

  “You’re having a tour of your new home and I’m having a tour of you.”

  My hand moved higher, brushing the underside of her breast. I pressed harder into her back, making it impossible for her to escape me. I skimmed around her breast until my hand found its way around her neck. That made her tremble in my grasp. And fuck, did I want to bend her over, tear down her jeans and sink my cock into her.

  “Dante…” she whispered.

  “Are you scared?”

  “You have your hand around my neck, am I not supposed to be?”

  I chuckled. She’d just slipped up and asked a question. My fingers tightened.

  “You know questions aren’t permitted.”

  “I don’t like your rules.”

  She wasn’t meant to. She was just supposed to obey without question.

  “And you think that will change anything?”

  “No.”

  She struggled against me, clearly unnerved by what I was doing. I said nothing, merely held her in place.

  “Please, let me go.”

  “Did I not say you can’t make demands of me?”

  She struggled harder. I was a fucking bastard, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to fight me so I could punish her. The need pulsated in my veins, overriding my desire to fuck her.

  “Get off. I don’t like this.”

  “You don’t have to like it.”

  She brought her arm up and elbowed me in the ribs. I grunted but didn’t let go.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” I growled in her ear.

  She tried again, but I was wise to it. I dragged her away from the sofa and flipped her around to face me. Her eyes were dark with anger.

  “What is your problem?” she spat. “I get that you think I’m your fucking pet, but this is not cool. I’ve done everything you asked me to this morning without complaint. Why the hell are you suddenly being an arsehole to me? What did I do to deserve that?”

  She shoved me back and stormed away. I stifled a smile. She hadn’t done anything other than be the victim to the urges I kept hidden from the outside world. I paced away towards the armchairs and sat in one of them.

  “Come here, Liora.”

  She turned to me, her eyes still blazing with fury and confusion.

  “Why the hell should I?”

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Do you think you should be speaking to me like that?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. Then her shoulders slumped. She knew she’d walked right into my trap and there was nothing she could do to stop any of it. I saw it written all over her face.

  “You’re a prick,” she muttered.

  I chose to ignore that comment and waited. She put one foot in front of the other, her eyes downcast as she came over to me. I pointed at her crotch.

  “Take your jeans off.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “What?”

  “Take them off.”

  “But you said…”

  I looked up at her.

  “I’m not going to fuck you. I told you I won’t touch you like that unless you ask for it.”

  She hesitated before her hand went to the button. She undid it, unzipping the fly and tugging them down her legs. Her eyes met mine and she wanted to know what happened next.

  “I want you to bend over my knees.”

  She frowned. Shuffling closer, she did as I asked. I shifted her so she was in the right position. Her head dangled down, her hands planted on the floor.

  “I expect you to take this without complaint. I won’t lie, it will hurt.”

  I placed one hand on her lower back, keeping her in place whilst I tugged down her underwear, exposing her luscious behind. My cock was rock hard in anticipation. I’d have to deal with it afterwards. Right now, it was about punishing her.

  The first strike made my palm sting. She cried out, tensing. Her right cheek blossomed red. The sight of it made me harder. The second strike was just as hard as the first.

  Fuck. This was incredibly satisfying. I shouldn’t want to hurt her. Inflicting this sort of pain on another person shouldn’t make me hard. I knew it wasn’t normal. Growing up the way I did, I was never going to turn out right.

  Four more strikes left my hand throbbing. She gasped, a sob escaping her throat, but didn’t tell me to stop. I wasn’t holding back. This is how I would punish her in the future after I revoked her privileges. I drew a line in the sand. Now she’d understand I was serious about obedience.

  The next slap across her cheeks, made her cry out again. She gripped my calf in one hand, fingers digging in. Three more and I’d stop. I ran my hand over her behind and she flinched. It really was a fucking beautiful sight. I slapped her again. Her skin was so red, raw and everything I needed at that moment.

  I wanted to draw it out longer, but I knew she was suffering even if she refused to tell me. So I struck her again, twice in quick succession.

  My breathing was laboured and my cock pulsated and strained against my jeans. Shit. Now her punishment was over, I desperately wanted to fuck her. Seeing the result of my handiwork made my need worse.

  I stroked her skin, my other hand leaving her back. She whimpered, flinching again. I released her, leaning back in the armchair.

  “You can get up now.”

  She stayed where she was, gasping for ai
r. I wasn’t going to hurry her along even though I needed to be away from her before I broke my word and fucked her anyway.

  “You… You…” she whispered.

  She shifted, whimpering again as she raised her head to me. Her face was wet with tears.

  “That hurt.”

  “It was meant to.”

  She shifted off me, wincing as she stood. Staring down at me, her eyes went wide and she blushed. I couldn’t exactly hide what was happening between my legs. Liora needed to know who I was. This was as good a place to start as any.

  She didn’t say anything, tugging her underwear back up and hissing as it touched her tender skin. I reached down and picked up her jeans before standing. There wasn’t much point her putting those back on.

  I took her hand and started tugging her towards the door.

  “Slow down, it really hurts.”

  “I know it does and if you want me to take some of the pain away, I suggest you come along quietly.”

  She whimpered the whole way up the stairs to the second floor. I took her into my bedroom, dumping her jeans on the bed. I left her there whilst I went into the bathroom and plucked the arnica cream from the cabinet. I’d become well acquainted with using this on myself. It would help her.

  She was shifting on her feet when I walked back out. I sat on the bed and beckoned her over. I spun her to face away from me and tugged her underwear down again.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Do I have to tell you again not to question me?”

  “No, I just…”

  “Let me make it better than you can have a go at me about it if you wish.”

  She twisted to look at me, her forest green eyes full of confusion. I shook my head, opening the cap and pressing some cream out onto my palm. I tugged her closer, keeping my other hand on her waist to hold her still. I gently rubbed the cream into her tender skin.

  When I was done, I pulled her underwear back up and released her. She turned to me, her expression not exactly full of hatred for me, but she didn’t look happy either.

  “You want to ask me what that was about, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Go ahead. You have my permission to say what you want for the next ten minutes and there won’t be any consequences. I think you’ve learnt your lesson today.”