Page 211 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
“I don’t care,” she said. “They can come after me. I don’t care anymore. And we are most definitely not getting married, you psychopath.”
It was beyond fucked up that I was seemingly more bothered about her survival than she was. Her legs were still spread and she was still grinding, her breath hot on my lips. “You’ll let me fuck you in a shitty apartment, but you won’t let me put a ring on your finger? You hurt my feelings.”
“You don’t have feelings.”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “That’s right. I don’t.”
“Please,” she repeated. “Please, Lucian, just use me. Make it hurt all you like, but please show me what it’s like to be taken.”
Elaine Constantine wasn’t drunk. Or even tipsy. She wanted this.
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because I’m useless. Disgusting. I’m an embarrassment to my family.” She squirms against my knee, even through the pain. “God gave up on me a long time ago.”
“There’s always redemption,” I replied, though the words sounded strange coming from me.
Her surprise was genuine. “Redemption? Wow. Didn’t have you down as the religious type.”
I ground my knee against that sweet pussy some more. “The Morellis are Catholic, sweetheart. The strict kind. Religious enough to hear your sins and deliver your salvation.”
“You’d be here a long time,” she said. “Hearing my sins would take a lifetime. Like you’d ever understand them.”
Jesus Christ, how I wanted them. I wanted to hear every single one of them from her quick little breaths.
Thank fuck my senses picked that point to come back to me. I broke the tension, dropping her to the floor with a curse.
“Forget it,” I spat and crouched down to her strewn belongings. I looked through her purse, digging my fingers into the lining until I found her cocaine. I slipped it into my inside pocket as she stared.
What she didn’t notice was me gathering the slick little item I’d chosen to replace it. I forced the tracker inside the lining in a heartbeat, deep enough that she’d never find it without a pair of damn scissors.
I handed it back over with a smile. “Make sure you don’t bid on any more penguins now. Be a responsible little doll for half the night at least.”
“That’s it, is it?” she asked. “You’re really going to steal my coke and fuck off again?”
My silence was answer enough as I walked away.
I was out of sight of her when I pulled my phone from my pocket and fired up the app through encryption. I was out of the venue and in the parking lot when the first bleep of her location showed up on my screen.
Yes. Perfect. Absolutely damn perfect. Just as I’d been planning, and just as I’d been craving.
The pretty Constantine was at my fingertips.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elaine
Iwould haveprobably snorted a fresh round of coke if he hadn’t stolen it from me. I was trembling as I gathered my things together and headed back through to the sea of people in the gala room. My heartbeat was fast, and my legs felt like weak little twigs.
This has nothing to do with my cock.
Harriet was still her amazing self as I sat back down at our table. She gave me her usual supportive smile and reached out to pull me close.
“You’re doing great,” she encouraged, but I felt anything but great. I felt like every bit the broken mirror—a flawed Constantine blonde, at odds with all the others.
Harriet seemed blind to the fear in my eyes, no doubt putting my shivers down to coke withdrawal and little else.
It’s something much less interesting than sex. It’s about marriage. I need a wife.
