King's Ransom. Jackie Ashenden
give a shit whether it’s patronising or not,’ he said. ‘You’re my prisoner and I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.’ He paused, his gaze like a searchlight finding all my secrets, all my hidden desires. ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘I think you like it.’
I went red. Sadly, I did like it. I’d never had anyone refer to me as anything but Imogen and being called little one made me think of being curled up in his arms, safe.
Not knowing what to say, I frowned instead.
He smiled, all satisfied like he’d won a point off me. ‘Of course you do. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?’
‘You were going to tell me how you can ruin me without touching me,’ I reminded him. ‘How does that work? Is it possible to screw someone without touching them? Do you just talk at me? I mean, maybe I don’t know how these things go, but—’
He leaned forward even more, making the rest of what I’d been going to say catch in my throat.
The glass of the window was cold against the back of my head, the door handle jabbing my spine painfully. Yet those sensations seemed quite distant, even irrelevant.
There was only Ajax and his electrifying blue gaze.
‘It’s very simple.’ His voice brushed over my skin like soft black fur. ‘First I’d get you to lift up your dress. Then I’d tell you to spread your legs and pull your knickers to the side.’ The words became even deeper, even rougher. ‘Then I’d get you to slide your fingers over your pussy, rubbing that little clit in exactly the way I tell you to, and not stopping until you come. Hard. While I watch.’
All my breath had vanished, my heartbeat out of control. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his. My cheeks had to be scarlet and there was a definite pressure between my thighs. A pulse. An ache.
Those things he said were shocking and yet...they made me hot and restless and I...wanted to do them.
Except I had a suspicion that he hadn’t said them to get me off. He’d said them to frighten me.
Unfortunately for him, fear was the last thing I felt right now.
And it hit me in that moment that Ajax King wasn’t a choice my father would ever have made for me. It was why I’d been at that stupid ball in the first place, to meet a guy that Dad had decided might be a potential ally. To charm him, be the bait in the honey trap Dad had set up.
Ajax telling me that Dad was using me wasn’t anything I didn’t know. I’d figured out what my purpose was for Dad after what had happened with Cam, and it wasn’t simply to be his treasured daughter.
I was the Princess, the prize he’d use to set various people off against each other, and whom he’d award to whoever was the strongest.
It was like a medieval marriage bargain, where I got no say and my feelings on the subject were irrelevant.
Dad didn’t care whether I wanted to be used like that or not. The only aspect of me he cared about was the debt I owed him for being the cause of Mum’s death.
A debt I had no choice but to try and repay, even though it wasn’t my fault.
But I had a choice now.
I could try and escape, or I could choose to be ruined by Ajax King, Dad’s most hated enemy.
Dad would be so pissed.
It was perfect.
‘Okay,’ I said thickly. ‘Do you want me to do those things now? Or should I wait till we get to your place?’
He blinked. Rapidly. ‘You did hear what I said, didn’t you?’
‘Uh, yeah. A bit difficult not to hear, to be honest.’
‘And you understood what I wanted you to do?’
‘Of course. I’m not stupid.’ I swallowed, my throat dry. Oh, I wanted to touch him. Feel that hard chest I’d been held against, test all that delicious muscle with my hands.
I had a whole folder of hot guys on my computer at home, inspiration pics for when I got too lonely. But having the reality right in front me...
He was so intent, studying me as if he’d never seen anything like me in all his life. ‘This doesn’t frighten you at all, does it?’
‘No,’ I said honestly. ‘I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.’
His straight black brows drew down. ‘Why not? It should.’
‘Well, it might if I didn’t want to do it. But...’ I stopped, belatedly self-conscious about what I was admitting to. I was attracted to him, but he might not feel the same way about me. After all, he didn’t know me from a bar of soap. ‘It’s okay, you know,’ I went on in a rush. ‘You don’t have to ruin me if you don’t want to. I mean, you might not actually want me and I don’t have any experience and—’
‘Quiet,’ Ajax said for the second time that night, the note of authority in his voice making me fall silent. ‘You really have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. If you think playing with a man like me is a good—’
‘Playing with you?’ I interrupted yet again, shocked. ‘I’m not playing with you. I just don’t know—’
Ajax took my chin in one hand, his thumb silencing me the way he had earlier. And, just like earlier, I swear I could feel every single whorl of his thumbprint on my lips. As if I were a lock and he the only key.
‘Listen,’ he said quietly. ‘First, you need to shut up and do as you’re told. Second, I’m not ruining anyone in the back of a bloody van. I’m not fifteen any more. And third, if you think I don’t want you then you’re very much mistaken.’
I ignored everything he said but the last part.
He did want me.
I shouldn’t have done it but, next thing I knew, my hands had let go of their death grip on my seat belt and were reaching out for him, my lips parting so I could taste his thumb pressed against them, the flavour of his skin salty and sharp on my tongue.
My fingertips made contact, pressing against his chest. So warm, so hard...
Ajax made a sound and I felt the vibration of it in my fingertips. And I looked and saw flames. Blue flames.
‘Little virgin.’ His voice was very soft. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’
Oh...
I looked at my hands on his chest, the heat of him burning through my fingertips. Perhaps touching him had been a mistake.
Damn. I’d been trying so hard to modify my behaviour and not simply do the first thing that came into my head. I was supposed to think things through, restrain myself, because I knew what happened when I didn’t. I’d seen the consequences. And they were terrible.
My cheeks were burning as I snatched my hands away, a combination of shame and embarrassment gripping me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered against his thumb. ‘I didn’t mean to. I just...wanted to t-touch you.’
His grip on my chin tightened.
And, before I knew what was happening, his head bent, his mouth brushing lightly over mine.
I’d never been kissed on the lips before, and for a second my brain simply ceased to function. There was softness, a fleeting pressure and heat. Lots and lots of heat.
A current of electricity crackled over my skin, goosebumps following along in its wake, and my hands were lifting once again, reaching for him, but he was gone, my fingers closing on empty air.
Panting, I realised that the sudden darkness meant my eyes were closed, so I opened them to find his wintry blue gaze staring into mine.
‘You kissed me,’ I said stupidly. ‘Why?’