His Desire

BY HIS COMMAND

#3

His Desire

by

Ana Fawkes

I'm going to kill him.

I'm going to kill Oliver Rush.

When billionaire Jonathan Black says the words, Isabella Grace can't help but believe he's acting out of anger.  Oliver's attack on Isabella has left her scared, but as long as she is in the company of Mr. Black, she feels safe.

But when Jonathan Black starts to show a darker side of himself - outside of the bedroom - Isabella realizes that perhaps he is serious.

I'm going to kill him.

I'm going to kill Oliver Rush.

But at what cost?

-1-

I slept on the plane, again
, but this time Jonathan Black held me as I slept.  I was too visibly shaken to be alone and he lay with his body pressed hard against mine, soothing me and giving me a constant reminder that he’s right there.

I dreamed of nothing, which I took as a good thing, because if I had a dream, it would have been about Oliver Rush.  Part of me didn’t want to believe that I had been attacked by Oliver Rush and if I hadn’t kicked my feet – landing a few lucky shots – who knows what he would have done with me. 

Being handcuffed and blindfolded, trapped in a chair could be a woman’s fantasy and it had been something of mine since Jonathan had commanded I sit there.  While I waited, Oliver Rush had come in and tried to hurt me.  In reality, I’m not sure he had full intentions of actually touching me or using the gun he had brought.  He achieved what he wanted by scaring me and leaving me shaking.  That’s what he wanted Jonathan to find. 

I had become some kind of pawn in a game between them but as long as I was under their control I didn’t mind it so much.

When I woke I looked down to Jonathan’s strong arms that were still locked around me.  I put my hands to his forearms, touching the sleeve of his white shirt, and moved my hand down until I touched the gold cufflinks.  I then slid again and the second I touched the bare skin of his hands, he spoke.

“We’re going to land in a few minutes,” he said.  “We should go sit.”

“Where are we landing?” I asked.

Jonathan had been in such a rage that he called for a plane, took me by the hand, and never told me anything.  Well, he did tell me
one
thing but I didn’t want to bring it back up hoping that he was cooled off a little and refocused.

“Outside Seattle.  I have a car waiting for us.  I have a small place, a cabin, somewhere to hide and relax.”

I started to smile, thinking things were cooled off but then Jonathan added….

“…And plan…”

That’s when my heart jumped and body raced with heat.  It was an intense feeling because it was lust mixing with fear.  I couldn’t contain either one and at one point I couldn’t separate them.  Feeling that way kept me wide awake. 

Jonathan let go of me and climbed out of the bed in his private jet.  I rolled to my back and watched him fix his shirt and tie and reach for his jacket that had been draped over a chair.  When he looked at me he still had those intense eyes that told me his original statement still held true.

I’m going to kill him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to me.  “I wish we had more time on this flight because I need to have you.”

“How long until we are… wherever we’re going?”

“Maybe an hour,” Jonathan said.  “And once we’re there, the rules will still apply.”

I nodded.

Of course the rules would still apply.  I was in no position mentally or physically to stand up to Jonathan or to just walk away from him.  I did believe that I could maybe protect him.  That if I stayed with him, kept him close, he would rethink his actions.

But I knew I was wrong.

I knew the fantasy of the woman saving the man wouldn’t happen in this case.

The way Jonathan stared at me, the way his eyes looked lost, the way he made fists so tight, his knuckles would turn white… I knew what he was thinking.  He was picturing Oliver Rush touching me, hurting me.  He was going beyond that too, playing the
what if?
game, trying to imagine all the horrible things that could have happened.

I had to look away from Jonathan until he left the small room.  My eyes devoured his sexy looks and perfected features, but my mind could only play one thing over and over.

I’m going to kill him.

I wasn’t sure how it worked in the billionaire’s world, but in my world, from all I’ve seen and known, if you kill another man, you get in trouble. 

Then again, this was Jonathan Black, and the more I wondered and the more I questioned, the more I’d find out just how powerful and rich he really was.

-2-

He held me tight in the back of the car as we drove
.  I wanted him to do more, say more, but he didn’t.  I could tell his mind was fast at work, trying to think of a way to properly kill Oliver Rush.  Just the notion of me being able to say something like that made me shake.  Going with Jonathan to Los Angeles was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime, a chance to be handcuffed, blindfolded, and enjoyed by the billionaire.  I pictured myself in the bed, the hot tub, and everywhere else in the hotel room.  I pictured myself in such orgasmic pleasure, I could sleep for days.  Granted, we had our wild fun when he handcuffed me on his airplane and blindfolded me in the hotel room, but I didn’t know the outcome would have been this.

“We’re here,” he whispered as the car turned left on a narrow dirt road.

The road went straight and then took a sharp right, finally giving sight to Jonathan’s small cabin.

When I saw it, I realized his version of a
small place
and mine were two completely different things.

This wasn’t a cabin, it was a house.  Bigger than most houses I’d ever seen.  For someone like Jonathan Black I could understand why this place was considered
small
.  The car stopped and the driver opened the door for us.  As Jonathan climbed out, he put his hand to the driver and gave a quick nod.

“You understand?” Jonathan asked.

“Of course, sir,” the man said.  “Another car is on the way to pick me up.  Where would you like the keys for this one, sir?”

“I’ll take them,” Jonathan replied.  “Thank you.”

The driver placed a small set of keys into Jonathan’s hand and then started to walk away.  I rushed to Jonathan’s side and pointed.

“No need to question what doesn’t matter,” he whispered to me.  “What matters is we get inside and figure this out.  Immediately.”

He was so adamant about killing Oliver Rush that his hand wrapped around my hip and he actually lifted me and turned me.  He then started to walk, his hand opening wide on the middle of my back, pushing me along.  At the front door he pressed in a code on a panel and the doors unlocked.  When they did, the lights in the main foyer turned on.

It was a great security system and it left questioning whether Jonathan was being paranoid or if he was being protective because he had good cause.  I almost didn’t understand why money put him in this kind of situation but then I thought about it… money.  Power.  Success.  The way he looked at me, the way he captivated me.  His confidence and strength, and all the pieces that just fit together to break me down with a simple touch.

His hand slid from my back and touched my hand.  I exhaled a deep breath and he squeezed my hand. 

“I bought the house a while back, when Rush and I were developing some ideas,” Jonathan said.  “I didn’t want to be too far in case something happened and I refused to stay in a hotel.  I’d rather be here, alone.”  Then he looked at me and his lip curled.  “Or not alone.” 

I couldn’t figure out why he looked so enraged and I wanted to get off the subject of both Oliver Rush and killing Oliver Rush but I was intrigued.  He had my attention about the man who tried to have me and the man who made Jonathan Black this upset. 

“You’ll understand more in time,” Jonathan said as we moved down a hallway that eventually led to a kitchen.

There he served himself a hearty glass of amber scotch and offered me a glass of wine.  I couldn’t resist Jonathan Black or anything he offered me, right down to a glass of wine. 

I sipped, then drank, then waited.

He looked troubled, his mind unable to turn off.  It fit his personality, but it also seemed like something that would eventually kill him. 

He had another glass of scotch, this one he drank in one really big gulp.  His eyes glazed over as he stared ahead at the stainless steel refrigerator and his face grew angrier and hotter all in the same sequence. 

“Jonathan…,” I whispered.

My voice was the final piece because he let out a deep growl.  His hand opened on his glass and he swung his arm forward, sending the glass sailing from the counter into the air and crashing against the refrigerator.  It smashed with a heavy sound and glass shattered all around.

I was speechless, stunned, my eyes shifting from the glistening glass on the floor to Jonathan’s angry face.  I wanted to be afraid and maybe for a second or two, I tried, but it was no use, my body knew what it wanted.  And the more dangerous Jonathan looked and began, the sexier he became too.

“I’m okay,” I said, taking a step towards Jonathan.

He turned and his hands gripped the table.  He leaned towards me, fire raging in his eyes.

“I didn’t ask a thing about you,” he growled.  “I brought you here for… for what?  You’ve gotten in my way, in
the
way of everything.  Ah, but yes, you’ve lured in Oliver Rush.  Look what that has done.”

I had nothing to reply with. 

I had enough at that point too, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes, shake my head, and wake up from a long dream.  I’d be in bed and find myself waking an hour early before I was supposed to get up for work.  But reality had such a way of holding on tight, tighter than anything in life, and I was forced to face that I was here, with Jonathan Black, in his kitchen, his eyes upon me.  

His lips were together, narrow.  His left lip quivered, trying to pull up in a snarl.  As he swallowed, he looked even more ready for some kind of fight.  Something had boiled over deep within Jonathan, whether it was Oliver Rush or not, it didn’t matter.  Something had been set off and I wasn’t sure what would make that go away.

But Jonathan did.

I felt my best option would have been to just walk away from the scene.  Maybe that would cool him off, let him settle, and give my desperation a chance to relax too.  I stepped to the side and walked forward.  I put my head down and did my best to step over the glass, but I stood no chance against what Jonathan did next.  His hands were upon me before I could take a breath.  He turned me and kissed me before I could speak a word.  His hands were tight on my arms, holding me tight against his body.  His eyes were open, so were mine.  Our lips together, his taking all the control.  I started to shake and realized it wasn’t just me shaking.  Jonathan had such a grip on my arms, he shook me.  I opened my mouth and let out a groan, trying to release my breath, find more air, and ease the mild pain from his hold.  His lips were aggressive, kissing and kissing, his head turning slightly and his tongue moving inside my mouth.  I offered my tongue back but he didn’t want it. 

When he broke away from the kiss, his opened his mouth to speak but closed it instead.  His face returned back to angry, his eyes growing wider than ever.  He tilted his head and for a few seconds, he closed his eyes. 

I opened my mouth then but I couldn’t find words either. 

Jonathan’s head came back down a moment later and again, he kissed me.  He kissed me with the wildest mix of passion and rage I’d ever felt, forcing me back until I crashed against the refrigerator.  I let out a cry but it was muffled with Jonathan’s lips and tongue.  His hands moved down my arms until he found my wrists.  He lifted my wrists up, holding them against the refrigerator.  When his hands opened, I thought for a second I was going to be released, but he pressed, keeping my wrists above my head.