Page 41 of Gold Mine (The Diamond Trilogy 2)
I love watching this woman’s pleasure, even if another man gives it to her.
“No,” she moans.
“Yes,” I say, stepping forward, shoving my hand through the bars, gripping her chin so she’s forced to face me. “You came so hard this way. I think you like it rough, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head, but it’s useless, useless when she’s making those breathy little whimpers. Adam rubs her clit with the heel of his hand. It’s a crude way to make her come. Nothing like a good finger fuck. Nothing like licking her until she creams.
She’s not even undressed, but she humps his hand, desperate, hungry.
“Stop,” I say, my voice hard as steel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Holly
The pressure disappears, and I want to cry. It felt so good, as if I were floating on a cloud. There were no bars, no cots. No bags of water bottles. Only pleasure.
Now it’s gone.
I whimper my dismay. “Please,” I beg, beyond caring.
My hips rock forward against the bars, and I can’t imagine how I look right now. Elijah stands there like a fortress in a suit—impenetrable. Adam’s hand may have played with me, but Elijah is the one who controlled the strings. “Please,” I say again.
His green eyes look past me. “You. Back the fuck off.”
The heat from Adam melts away. Then it’s only the two of us standing a foot apart, cold metal bars between us, an entire world between us.
We’ll never be on the same side again.
I know this is wrong and perverse, but somehow that only makes me hotter. There are two men watching me, two men burning for me. I don’t need to look down at the erections between their legs to know this. It’s clear in their eyes.
I glance back at Adam, and he’s lounging on the cot, a pair of slitted eyes.
Elijah taps my clit through the fabric. “Look at me.”
And so I look into his green, green eyes. They look like the glittering surface of the sea, and I feel a pang of regret for ever leaving that paradise. If I had never run from him, I would never know the depths he would go to catch me.
He pushes the heel of his hand against my clit. “Go on. Make yourself feel good, sweetheart.”
My cheeks burn, but I obey him. I rock my hips against his hand using the bars for leverage. His gaze never leaves mine, not even when I climb onto the precipice, not even when I fall. The orgasm clenches every muscle in my body, and I keen my perverse pleasure.
There is no time to relax after the climax. I wrench myself away from the bars.
“I hate you,” I say between gritted teeth. Tears of humiliation dampen my cheeks.
“That’s fine, sweetheart.” Elijah doesn’t sound bothered in the least. He scrubs his hand over his face, the same hand he used to make me come. He breathes deep as if enjoying the scent of me. It feels primal, having my scent on him, and I fight the satisfaction it gives me.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can.”
“Adam thinks you’re trying to prove a point. That you don’t deserve me.”
An eyebrow rises. “Do you think I deserve you?”
“At this point you only deserve a hard kick between the legs.”
He laughs, revealing white teeth. Why does he have to look so handsome? As good as he looks in a T-shirt and tactical pants, he somehow looks even better in a suit. His green eyes sparkle. “I’ve always liked that violent edge you hide from the world.”
“You bring it out in me.”
He crouches in front of the bars. “Fine. Here’s a real answer. Because this is who I really am. You met me in captivity last year. I was injured and beaten. Tortured. Hungry. So you assumed I was tame. That wasn’t true then, and it definitely isn’t true now.”
Tame? No, he’s definitely a wild animal. Feral. “You’re angry at Adam. You should be. He shot you and imprisoned you, but I didn’t do any of that. So why am I here?”
“For the same reason a lion drags a lioness into his den.”
I shiver, and though I hide my response, my body heats. This particular lioness likes to be dragged around by her lion. “I will fight you.”
“Good.” He pushes the bag through the bars. “You earned this.”
Humiliation threatens to drive me to my knees. My stomach turns over, but I force myself to face him with my head held high. He created this situation. He’s responsible for every ounce of shame it causes me.
Not that it bothers him much.
He gives me a small smile, not abashed in the least. He turns and walks away, sure of my response. Sure that my desperation will make me comply.
It’s with shaking hands that I sort through the offering he brought. I need the water, and I know that in a few hours, I’ll be grateful for a Snickers bar. Except that’s what he wants from me. That will only give me enough strength to play more of his sick games.
