Page 32 of The Price of Power
“Monster?” Again, I’d been called much, much worse…just not to my face. “A monster wouldn’t have spared your brother’s life—or yours.”
Liv frowned. “So…what? In your mind, I should be thanking you for kidnapping me and holding me hostage?”
“You’ve got it wrong,” I told her. “No one was kidnapped. I gave you a choice, and you came with me of your own free will. And how can you call yourself a hostage when I’m not asking for a ransom?”
“So you’re saying I can walk out the door any time I want?” Her eyes were narrowed and her voice hesitant, as if she knew she was tiptoeing into a trap.
“Go ahead,” I answered, even taking a step back to prove just how free she was.
A few silent seconds stretched on as Liv stared at me assessingly. Only then did she dare to take a nervous step forward.
The moment she moved, I reached out. She gasped as my hand snapped around her wrist, holding her tight.
“Of course, the second you step outside that door without my permission, I’ll consider our deal void and send my men after your brother.”
She tried to wrench her hand back, but I held on, my fingers pressing firmly against her tender skin. “You call that a choice?”
“Sure,” I answered. “A shitty choice, maybe. But a choice all the same.”
“You’re an asshole,” she spat at me.
“And you’re a naive brat.”
For a second, her cheeks lit up with bright red anger. She raised her hand—the one I wasn’t holding—ready to sting me with a slap for the insult. Fortunately, I snatched it before she made it anywhere near my face.
All the color drained from her face the instant my eyes bored into hers. “You really don’t want to do that, Liv. If you don’t believe me about anything else, trust me on this.”
This time, the stone-cold sound of my voice was enough to reach her. Her shoulders all but folded in on themselves, and she tried to shrink away. But I wasn’t about to let her go.
Not now.
Because she was right about one thing. Obviously, I hadn’t been very clear in explaining how punishments were doled out around here. And I couldn’t expect compliance until I’d laid out the ground rules.
Hands still around her wrists, I pulled her in until her body was flush against my chest and she had to crane her neck back to look me in the eye.
“The rules of my house—the rules of my world—are very simple, Liv,” I told her. “It’s an eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. You break my trust; I shatter yours. You slap me; I hit you back. You rile me up; I frustrate you to the edge of sanity. Understood?”
She didn’t answer, at least not with words. Her gaze stayed glued to mine, unblinking as she gave a trembling nod.
“Good,” I said. “Then this punishment for driving me mad will make perfect sense.”
The sound of her surprised cry as I pushed her back against the wall carried through the room, only growing louder as I let go of one of her wrists long enough to rip open the front of her pants. Before she could draw in another breath, I slid my hand down past her waistband and under the silken softness of her underpants.
My fingers pressed between her pussy lips with brutal efficiency. Blood roared through my veins at the feel of her wetness covering my fingertips. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who’d been riled up by this back-and-forth conversation.
All it had taken was a few heated words and the barest of touches, and she was drenching my hand. It was enough to make me want to roar in victory.
Especially when she arched her back, her head falling against the wall.
“That’s right,” I hissed against her ear. “Pretend to hate me all you want, but your body doesn’t lie, does it? It fucking loves what I can do.”
To prove my point, I thrust two fingers deep inside her while pressing the pad of my thumb against the swollen nub of her clit. Her knees began to shake as I moved in slow circles over the most sensitive part of her body.
“Gabriel.” She breathed my name as her hands came around my shoulders, holding on for stability as I continued to wind the spring inside her tighter and tighter.
For a moment, I almost lost myself in the heat of the moment. The look of pure ecstasy on her face was intoxicating—eyes closed, head thrown back, loose curls falling over her shoulders. There was nothing I wanted more than to whisk her through the double doors of the bedroom behind us, toss her on top of the mattress, and forget about the rest of my responsibilities for the day.
Especially as her grip on me tightened and her moans grew louder and more frequent.