Page 41 of Owned

“Well, perhaps I don’t have any fucking brains. And perhaps you should ask me what I think before making any decisions.”

“But that’s what it’s about, Rowan. It’s not about what you think, it’s about what I think.”

She let out a little breath. “You don’t care what I want?”

“No,” I said, brutally frank. “It’s about me, Rowan. Me and what I want.”

Her jaw was tight as she glanced down at the bouquet she was carrying. She was having problems with this, and of course she would. Any woman in her right mind would, let alone one strong, stubborn, buttoned up twenty four year old.

She fiddled with the white silk tie around the flowers in a nervous movement, not meeting my eye. “Give me an example then. Of what you want.”

Jesus, really?

“Rowan—”

“Why not?” She looked up at me. “Come on. If you think what you want is so bad then give me an example.”

Christ, she was so naive, it was painful. But if she wanted an example, I’d give her one, and hopefully if I made it explicit enough, she’d stop arguing and finally leave me the hell alone.

“Okay.” I folded my arms. “How’s this? I wouldn’t have allowed you to argue with me about the dress and the flowers. In fact, I’d have punished you for it, maybe by not giving you that orgasm you so desperately wanted.”

She flushed. “That doesn’t sound.…bad.”

“Really?” I held her gaze with mine and this time I didn’t bother to hide the dark hunger in me. This time I unlocked the cage and let her see it. “Me stroking that wet little pussy of yours until you screamed? Taking you so close to the edge you’re almost there, but not pushing you over it? You could have handled that?”

The flush in her cheeks deepened but she gave a little shrug.

But of course. She was brazening it out, the beautiful, stubborn little bitch. She had no idea what orgasm denial or edging was. She’d never been worked up so intensely that she would have done anything to come, anything at all, and then denied.

Maybe she should learn.

I shouldn’t. Taking that step with her would be a mistake, but I was tired of fighting not only her, but my dark side as well. This was my own fault. I’d let her push me to the edge and now there was now coming back from it.

There were consequences and she needed to learn them.

“I wouldn’t have given you that orgasm, beauty, make no mistake,” I went on. “I’d have left you hungry and made you take your panties off. Then I’d put them in my pocket to keep while I took off the rest of your clothes. I’d dress you in all your wedding finery myself, fingering your sweet little cunt until I got you hot and wet, and then I’d make you stand there, suffering through the ceremony with a hungry pussy, aching for me, knowing what I had in my pocket. Thinking about how desperate you are to come as you say those sacred vows and knowing only I can give you what you need.” Her big eyes had widened as I spoke, then darkened. “And after the good father pronounced us husband and wife, I’d have put back your veil and stepped in real close to kiss you, and I’d slide my hand down the front of that gown to where you’re all slippery and needy, and I’d have touched you through it, making you come in front of the priest and your grandmother. And there wouldn’t be a thing you could do to stop it.”

I was very close to her, looking into her eyes, her pupils dilated, her cheeks red and her mouth opening. So fucking beautiful…

Desire beat like a drum in my head, in the pulse of blood in my cock, and I wanted to put my hand on the back of her neck, force her to her knees in front of me, make her open her mouth for my dick, and then teach her how to suck me. Teach her how to worship me, to look to me for whatever she wanted, make me the most important thing in her universe. Me, her one obsession.

It was wrong and toxic, but for over twenty years I’d catered to women’s fantasies. Now I wanted a woman to cater to mine.

No. I wanted her to cater to mine.

“And you know what I’d do after that?” I went on softly. “I’d put you on your knees, still in your gown and veil, and I’d get you to do what any good bride should do after getting married. Worship her new husband’s cock.”

Her gaze wavered and I could hear the quickened sound of her breathing.

“You think you could do that, beauty?” I stared at her, the darkness in me laid bare for her to see. “You think you could give a jaded old playboy like me, who used to be your step-father, the best fucking blow job he’s ever had in his life?”

15

Rowan

He was trying to frighten me. He was trying to make me run with the rough, dirty things he said, I could see it in his eyes. But I could also see what lay underneath them: yes, he wanted me to run, but he also wanted me to stay. He wanted me to do those things for him, give them to him.

He was standing very close, his powerful figure towering over me, dominating me. His arms were folded across his impressive chest and his gaze was focused, intent. He made no attempt to hide the molten heat and hunger in his eyes, he let the flames burn for me to see.

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