Dangerous Obsessions (3 page)

- Catriona -

For one moment, he was ready to lose control. I felt it. I saw it in his eyes, the desire to take me hard, not caring at all about my pleasure. He was going to use me, and to my shame, that only made me wetter. We stared at one another, him buried so deep that I wanted to cry out—in pleasure or pain, I wasn’t sure. He was holding himself still and I didn’t want to break first.

Where Dominick was concerned, however, my best intentions seemed to be worth about nothing. I squirmed, biting my lip against a moan, and he gave a lazy smile.

“Beg for it,” he ordered again, and I felt the last of my resolve crumble away.

“Fuck me, Dominick.” I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to—and I didn’t want to. Some depraved part of my mind wanted to beg him to fuck me and never stop. I couldn’t imagine ever having enough of this. “Please fuck me.” I moaned aloud when he began to move inside me, his fingers tightening on my thighs. “God, yes.”

“You like this?” he asked lazily, but even lazy, his voice held a command.

“Yes, sir.” I caught my breath as he thrust deep and withdrew. He was waiting. “I like it when you fuck me.”

He drove into me again and stopped, his face hovering a few inches from mine. “So why did you lie to me earlier?”

“I was scared.” I bit my lip.

“Scared of me?”

“Scared of…of wanting you.”

“You should never be scared of wanting me.” He began to move again, his cock thick, stretching me; I wasn’t used to it yet, but I’d never been so wet in my life. “You don’t need to be scared of begging me to fuck you. You’re mine, Catriona.”

The voice was a breath in my ear, and I wanted so badly to say it aloud, to agree with him. The words were in my mouth.
I’m yours. I’m yours, please fuck me. Please fuck me as hard as you want.

I turned my head away, trying not to speak as he thrust into me. I was close to breaking from pleasure, and he knew it. He could wait, and I... I clenched around his cock and heard him groan, increasing his pace, slamming into me faster and faster.

“Say it.” His voice was rough. “
Say it.
”

I couldn’t.
I’m yours.
I pressed my lips shut on the words, but there was no denying my body. I came hard, tipping over the edge into oblivion, shuddering with pleasure as he came, too. He shot into me and I felt my pussy clench around him. I was lost in pleasure; I would have done anything if he asked.

He did not ask. He leaned his head against mine, his breath coming short. When I opened my eyes, I saw that his eyes were still closed. His face was troubled, and my pleasure fell away into a sort of sickening fear. I was very aware of how I must look with my skirt shoved up around my waist, my hair mussed, my lipstick almost certainly smudged. I hadn’t pleased him. How could I? I’d been losing myself and to him, this had just been…

I looked away as he let me down, and smoothed my skirts over my legs. My fingers were shaking, and I could feel his wetness between my legs. I was very aware of who and what I was. With far too much clarity, I remembered my anger at Nate—and my thought that Dominick, at least, wanted me. But it had been a passing interest, clearly, something he’d have taken in his office and then been done with. I could have spared us both this charade of dinner if I’d only given in to what I wanted.

“Catriona.” His voice was a command, and my head jerked up. “What’s wrong?”

“You weren’t…” My lower lip trembled, and to my horror, I felt tears come to my eyes. “You didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t
like
it?” he repeated incredulously.

“You didn’t really…” I shut my mouth on the start of a sob. I might as well say it; then I could get back to the real world again. I squared my shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “You didn’t really want me. It’s okay.”

“Never say that again,” he said at once. He stepped forward, pinning me against the wall. “I will not tolerate you saying things like that. I will not tolerate you
believing
things like that. I want you. I want—” His voice broke off and he took a deep breath. “Would you like to finish dinner, or go home?”

It was such a polite question that I started to laugh, shakily, sniffing away my tears. I shook my head as I considered, helplessly. It was too much, all too much. I wasn’t even sure what had just happened.

“I…I’d like to go home. I’ll go get a cab.”

“We’ll take the car,” he said firmly. He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear and opened the door, leading me back out into the restaurant.

“We can’t come out together,” I whispered. “They’ll know we were…”

“So?” He raised an eyebrow.

“It’s…”

“Entirely inappropriate?” He wove between the tables, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Yes,” I said, stung that he didn’t seem to be taking this seriously.

“More or less inappropriate than me taking you in my office?” he asked, as if this was some kind of academic discussion.

I stopped and pulled my hand out of his. “I’m going home alone
.
” I wished I wasn’t still smiling at his joke. It wasn’t funny; this
was
inappropriate.

He, however, was not amused. “No, you aren’t,” he said simply.

“I am.”

“No. It’s far too dangerous.” He looked me over, ignoring the fact that my cheeks were flushing again. “Every man in this restaurant wants you. If you go out there alone…”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.

“What?” he asked, tight-lipped.

“I might get followed into a bathroom,” I said, with a giggle. It was too much. “Someone might just follow me and—” I pressed a hand over my mouth.

To my great relief, the corner of his mouth twitched. “Something like that,” he agreed. “Regardless, you are
not
going alone.”

He ushered me into the car, gazing out the window as we passed through the city streets. I studied the clean lines of his profile, trying to understand what had happened. He had said I was his, made me beg for him to fuck me. He had taken me hard, up against a wall…

And he was disappointed. I could still see it. I ran my fingers over my lips, feeling them tingle, and then looked down at my lap. He didn’t want me. That was really the only explanation. Perhaps, like Nate, he was ashamed of me. I pushed away the thought that his actions didn’t exactly fit with that. I couldn’t come up with anything else, and with every block, he had become more withdrawn. At my apartment building, Dominick waited while his driver opened the passenger door. He did not look over at me.

“I’m…well, I’m going.”

He looked over at that, his brows lifted in polite interest.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry I…” The inadequacy of the words hit me all at once and I left without saying anything more. The door closed behind me, and the car waited until I had unlocked the front door before pulling away smoothly. I stared after it for a moment, my lower lip trembling again, and then shook my head and went inside. I didn’t understand, and I wasn’t going to.

But I knew when something was over.

***

I spent two miserable days waiting for him to email me. He wasn’t going to, of course. I knew that, but I still jumped every time my email system gave a little ding. I told Emma that there was some family trouble and I told Nate nothing. He could probably see everything, though, I reflected as I picked at my lunch. A woman rejected by the man who had everything; it wasn’t a difficult story to figure out.

I sighed and looked down at the tacquitos I was holding before dumping them in a trashcan and walking back to Breck Tower, my hand in my pockets. It wasn’t cold, but I walked with my shoulders hunched and an old, shapeless coat wrapped over my blouse.

I had one last piece of paperwork to turn in at the HR office, and though I no longer saw much point in any of it, I dutifully took the elevator down to the subbasement, clutching the folder to my chest. Nate kept crowing about every little piece of information we stumbled across, trying to cheer me up, but both of us knew that nothing was adding up correctly. Maybe, I thought with a certain bleak humor, I could just keep working at Ellison Corp. The benefits were better than they were at the newspaper.

I heard the raised voices as soon as I got out of the elevator, but I wasn’t paying attention. I walked with my head down, projecting as hard as I could that I didn’t care about whatever paperwork spat this was—

And nearly walked right into Dominick.

I was too dumbstruck to do anything other than stand there stupidly. I had spent the past few days telling myself listlessly that he couldn’t possibly be as good looking as I remembered—which seemed not to be true—and that I was better off without him, though I couldn’t remember any of the reasons why just now. I stared at those blue eyes and they stared back, for a split second seeming just as intent on me as mine were on him. Then his face settled back into its smooth, bored mask and he ushered me away as he stared down the man he’d been arguing with.

“Anything else?” His voice was crisp.

“You don’t get it, do you?” The other man must be young. I kept walking, trying to keep my steps quick, but I couldn’t keep myself from trying to match the voice to a name. Young. There weren’t many young people in upper management, and only one on the board. I strained to hear. “This company is about to slide out of your grasp. There are people who know what you did to Sebastian. People who are just dying to come forward.”

“Is that so.” The voice was cold enough that I shivered. “Run along, Hayes. I’m interested to see who you dig up.”

“You should be.” The man left, brushing past me without a glance, and my steps slowed. When I looked back, Dominick was striding the other way down the hall, the set of his arms indicating that he was adjusting his cuffs and his suit jacket.

“Dominick!” He didn’t slow at all, and I ran after him. “Dominick, wait.”

“Yes?” I caught up to him at the elevator and he looked over at me, almost bored. Then his eyebrows snapped together. “What are you wearing?”

“Just…” I shrugged a shoulder.

“It’s ridiculous. You look like a hobo.”

I felt a stab of frustration. “Never mind. I was
going
to ask if you were all right, but clearly I didn’t need to.”

“You were?” He frowned. “Why?”

“Because…” I gestured down the hall to where the confrontation had taken place. “Was that Russell Hayes?”

“Yes.” His gaze sharpened. “You’re very well-informed.”

“My father told me it’s good practice to know all of the executives and board members on sight.” The well-rehearsed lie came out promptly.

“Your father is right.” He looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

I stared at him in confusion for a few seconds until it dawned on me. He wanted me to ask where he had been. He wanted me to ask why he hadn’t been in contact. And it made me
furious.
I knew Dominick Ellison was a ruthless bastard without a conscience, and from the stories I’d heard, he’d probably screwed his brother over royally for nothing more than the sin of having a job Dominick wanted. I hadn’t, however, thought he was cruel just for the hell of it. I drew myself up, my inner monologue berating myself for being a fool, and gave him the iciest look I could.

“Yes,” I said. “That was all.” I tried to think of something else to say, something witty and cutting, and I just couldn’t. As the elevator dinged, I turned and walked as quickly as I could down the hall, away from Dominick Ellison and whatever game he was playing.

***

That was the plan, of course. In reality, it wasn’t ten minutes before I slammed my way into Dominick’s office and stared him down.

“You know what? I did have more to say.”

“Did you.” He looked up at me, almost bored.

“Mr. Ellison?” The secretary was hovering apologetically behind me. “I’m very sorry, I can—”

“It’s all right, Sarah.” He nodded her out of the room and raised his eyebrows. “Well? Are you going to come in, or do you want Sarah to hear everything you’re about to say?”

I hated it when he was right, and it took everything I had not to slam the door again. I took my time so that I could try to compose myself, and when I looked back, it was with a litany going in my head: Dominick Ellison was a bad man, a cruel  man who wanted to shame me for having enjoyed sex he’d asked for, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.

“I’m not your toy,” I said finally. “I’m not yours to just use and discard and then have you expect something of me. I don’t owe it to you to ask you why you went away and plead for you to come back while you leave me. I’m used to being left. You’ve seen me.” I lifted my chin. “But being left and being alone is better than chasing after someone and demeaning myself. No one else is going to hold you to account, but I will. You’re despicable.”

He stared at me for a very long moment, and just was I was getting ready to turn and leave, he drew in a deep breath.