Owned(35)

“Say the words,” he demands. “I want you to tell me to fuck you.”

I’m so desperate to come, I’d say just about anything to him right now.

“Fuck me, Kayne. Please fuck me, make me come,” I nearly sob.

“Anything for you.” He sucks on my neck right above my collar as he begins to pound into me, feeding my body exactly what it needs. Exactly want it’s starved for, even though it’s fed every night. My climax pressurizes then explodes, unleashing a hailstorm of ecstasy. I come unashamed, while screaming his name.

“Fuck, give it to me,” he grinds out, thrusting harder. “Give it all to me. I want every fucking ounce.”

He wrings me out. My body going slack in my restraints as he ruptures, stilling forcefully, buried deep inside me. He drops his head against my back and breathes heavily, as he recovers from the euphoric high.

After he comes around, Kayne hoists me up, so I’m straddling his thighs. It takes the pressure off my arms and neck. He massages my shoulders while dusting soft kisses across my fevered skin.

“You are so sexy. I can’t tear my hands or my lips or my eyes off you. You’re my most prized possession,” he growls in my ear. “I meant it when I said I would kill for you, Ellie. I’d do anything for you.”

A rash of goose bumps erupts all over my body. I feel safe. I feel wanted. I feel desired. In this new life, my goals and ambitions are vapor. And as much as that saddens me, my existence has morphed into something else entirely. I secretly enjoy the things he says, and the way he makes me feel. I believe him when he tells me I’m important. It gives me a sense of purpose to please another. To please him.

“Tired baby?” he asks as he continues to rub me down.

“Yes, Kayne.” I’m physically depleted and emotionally spent. Every interaction with Kayne drains me completely.

He removes the second chain, unbinds my hands, and hooks my leash back in its usual spot. My arms and back feel stretched, sore. He forces me to lie down on the cool satin, all while watching my naked movements with his mesmerizing eyes. I feel like they’re peeling away every layer of my existence. I want to know what he’s thinking. Why he’s looking at me like this might be last time he ever sees me.

“Sleep baby.” He kisses my forehead lightly and moves off the bed.

“Aren’t you staying?” I ask timidly.

“Not tonight.” He slips on his pants. “A lot of things are going to change very fast. I have to make sure everything is ready.

“Changes?” I ask, my voice small.

Kayne chastises me with a harsh facial expression. “Shhhh. No more talking. No questions.” Then his eyes soften as he runs a finger lovingly along my jawline. So mercurial. “Sleep, Ellie.”

“Yes, Kayne,” I reply forlornly.

I don’t want him to leave.





TWELVE HOURS.

The countdown has begun. Tonight is what I have lived the last six years for. El Rey will be on American soil. He will be in my home. The deal will be made. Shit will implode. My mission will be complete. And I have no idea where it will leave me and Ellie in the aftermath. My stomach actually rolls thinking about what we have coming to an end. Whatever that may be. Having her in my life on a daily basis has made a mundane existence shine with brilliance. She invaded my heart like a sneak attack and now she’s a permanent fixture.

“Everything is set.” Jett has been rambling for the last half hour and I don’t think I’ve heard one word he’s said. “Kayne.” He snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Are you listening? This is the most important night of our lives. Let’s not fuck it up, okay?”

I curl my lip at him. If he were anyone else I would snap his skinny ass like the twig he is.

“Do they hurt?” I ask randomly.

“Does what hurt?” he asks lost.

“Your balls. Do they hurt being strangled in those fucking pants all day?”

“Hate on my style all you want.” He grabs his junk. “My shit shoots just fine.”

“Good to know. Because if it didn’t I’d have to hire a new trainer.”

“You won’t need one after tonight.” He smiles coyly.

I involuntarily grimace. Jett’s eyes soften.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” I snap.

“Like what?” His eyes widen. Like he doesn’t know.

“Like you feel sorry for me or something.”

“False accusation. You’re an asshole scumbag who doesn’t deserve an ounce of pity.”

Man, ain’t that the truth. I glance at the security feed. The mansion is quiet. No one is around. All the girls are preparing, Ellie is sleeping, and Javier is lurking.

It’s the calm before the storm.

“Since we’re on the subject,” Jett probes. “Are you going to be able to handle whatever happens after the shit goes down?”

Probably not.

“I’ll have to, won’t I?” I look over at him. He’s dressed in a light blue V-neck shirt and tight white pants. His normal attire.

“She may forgive you.” Jett slips that in there.

“Would you forgive me?” I counter.

“Well, that’s not a fair question, is it? No one knows you better than me. And knowing what I do, I would say hell no. And tell you to fucking die.”

I glare at him. “Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because it sucks. “

“Ellie doesn’t know all your dark corners. She may take pity on you.” He paces in front of my desk. “After a shitload of spoiling and groveling on your part of course. Are you man enough to handle that? You prideful jackass?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. If it means I get to keep her.” I cross my arms and brood.

“We both knew this life wasn’t going to last forever.”

“Yes we did,” I sigh.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you.” He reiterates.

“Maybe pigs will fly and your dick will breathe in those pants.”

“Hater.”

“Dream on. Speaking of Ellie―”

“Already covered.” Jett raises his hand to halt my sentence. “Your jaw is going to drop.”

“Oh really?” I cock an eyebrow.

“Yup. It’s your last night together. Thought I’d make it special.”

“Well aren’t you just my fairy fucking godfather in heinously ugly skinny jeans.”

“You’re just jealous you can’t pull them off.”

“Insanely.” I roll my eyes. “Go see to my kitten. Make sure she’s happy.” I dismiss him.

“I think the only time she’s happy is when she’s with you,” he says over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

I really fucking hope that’s true.





JETT HAS SPENT THE LAST two hours primping me. I have never been dolled-up this much in my life. He has straightened my hair and pinned half of it back. Smoked my eyes out with purple shadow and black eye liner. Put on false eyelashes and stained my lips a bright pink. Presently he is slipping me into some sheer intricate lingerie number that’s nude-colored, floor length, and has a plunging neckline. There’s a butterfly pattern on the front made out of white lace that barely covers my breasts and wraps around my ribcage. With a skimpy thong to match, I think it’s the most clothing I’ve worn since I’ve been here.

Jett crosses his arms and stares at me, admiring his handy work.

“Bellemiso.” He makes that gesture where he kisses the tips of his fingers.

I eye him entertained. “You are a very odd individual.”

“I know. One of a kind.”

“How did you come to be this way? If you were gay, I’d understand.”

Jett smiles his oh-so-pretty smile while running a hand through his blond hair. “One day I’ll tell you the whole story. But the cliff notes version? I grew up around a lot of women.”

“Sisters?” I ask.

He laughs like it’s some kind of private joke. “No, not exactly, but my mom did take in a lot of strays. Me and a house full of females, I learned a few things.”

“Like how they think and what they like?”

“Yes, that, among other things.” He emphasizes the word things.

“What things?” I probe.

He clams up.

As close as I feel to Jett, I know very little about him. Besides his favorite color being blue, his favorite ice cream mint chocolate chip, and his weapon of choice, wax.

“Jett, since I’ve been here, you have bathed me, dressed me, and groomed me. Made me laugh and consoled me. It’s sort of unfair. You know more than most about me, and I know nothing about you.”

“You know that I care about you,” he counters.

“Jett.” I put my hands on my hips and glare playfully at him.

“Those eyes are killer.” He sighs as his resolve crumbles. “My mother was a Madame, Ellie.”

“What?” I respond bemused.

“Yup. I grew up in a very affluent whore house. While other boys were playing football in high school, I was learning the family trade.”

I’m rendered speechless.

“It’s how Mansion came to be,” he informs me.

“Mansion?” I question.

“Yes, that is what we call the business. I train all the women who work for us.”

“Train? Like how Kayne trained me?”