Destroy Me Read online

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “Nearly there.”

  He maintained his grip and his pace. With his free hand he fished into his pocket and retrieved a key. He took her to the farthest door on the left, opened it and pulled her inside.

  She tugged her arm free. “You can get off me now.”

  Her eyes blazed at him, rubbing at her arm where he had held her. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He backed her hard against the wall, his body pressed against hers, her heart hammering in her chest. He placed his palm directly against her heart, just below her left breast and felt it pumping feverishly.

  She could feel his hand hot through her dress. His face so close to hers, she could smell his scent; rich, evocative, raw.

  With his other hand, he lifted her hair out of her eyes, with remarkable gentleness.

  “I need you to tell me what’s going on.” He voice was almost a whisper. In another situation it would have sounded like an endearment.

  “I don’t know.”

  His eyes left her face and he stared at the wall for a moment for two, all the while holding her still.

  “I don’t think you understand how badly I want to know.”

  He looked back at her and now she feared him, yet there was defiance in her eyes, he could see it.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “I’ve told you.” Her chin had risen and she squared her face to him. “Just do what you want.”

  His arm went around the back of her neck and he propelled her forward, directly to the king sized bed.

  “Sit down,” he barked at her.

  She shouted back at him as she fell on the bed. “I came to you to find him!”

  “Listen to me. He has five million dollars of mine. And frankly I’m not very happy about it. He knows I will hunt him down and that he couldn’t take you until the coast is clear. Does he really think I would be fooled by some innocent looking woman, throwing me a sob story to get me off his scent? Did you help him out with the plan? Did you come up with it together? You used to work in a security company over in London. That’s where you met him. Did you come up with it over there?”

  “I was an administrator! That’s all.”

  Tara genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Five million?” She said more to herself than him. “My God!”

  The silence between them lasted a few moments, Damien glaring at her relentlessly, his hands gripped in fists at his sides, trying to keep his temper in check.

  Her mind was whirling. “Hold on. Have you stopped to think his accomplice just might be someone closer to home? He didn’t work alone; you employ security contractors; it could be any one of them.”

  The thought had occurred to him, and he had of late engaged in some rather strong armed tactics questioning those who he thought could have done it. He wasn’t popular back at the office anymore. The guys didn’t know who he was going to turn on next. All around him he was looking for the one who had betrayed him. In his mind, he was surrounded by deceit, and it was a lonely place to be. He knew she had a valid point. It only increased the pain he felt, and he knew he wanted to lash out.

  “Answer me, Mr Lawson, or I’m walking out of here.”

  She wasn’t joking; he could tell by the look on her face. She genuinely didn’t seem to know about the money; or she was the best actress he’d ever seen.

  She rose from the bed, but in one stride he was over her, spinning her around and bending her over the bed.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  She bucked against him, but he just held her down more firmly.

  “I don’t think so. You’re brave; I’ll give you that.”

  “I’m going to scream for help if you don’t get the hell off.”

  “Go ahead, we’re amongst my friends in this place; I don’t think they’re going to come running to help you.”

  “You bastard.”

  She used her feet to kick back at him. Her teeth found one of his hands and she bit into him, enraged at his treatment of her. He managed to pull his hand away; the urge to belt her around the head so strong that he literally had to count to ten in his head. At number eight he seemed to have made an instinctive but unconscious decision; he raised his right hand and brought it down on her. He spanked her buttocks without restraint; thoroughly, repeatedly. Not viciously, but all the same he found a satisfaction in it. More than a satisfaction, it triggered a sudden overwhelming desire in him to pound her in a different way; to take her hard from behind, between her luscious thighs; the sight of her soft buttocks wobbling under his hand invitingly. He transcended to a need to punish her with his body, abuse her, take her as his; his groin straining hard now, throbbing, desperate to fuck her. He pulled her panties down roughly, pushed her legs open wide, looked down at her exposed and helpless, staring at the red marks on her buttocks, the red lips of her pussy, provoking him in the extreme.

  His hand went between her legs, taking hold of her there. Raising his hand he bought it down on her again, this time between her legs, spanking her on her clitoris, repeatedly.

  His mind clouding in confusion, he stopped suddenly, shocked at himself. Going into the bathroom quickly, he ran the cold water, scooping it up and throwing it over his face, running his hand through his hair, buying time.

  Emerging from the bathroom, he saw her standing by the bed facing him, her hands shaking. Unnerved and frightened though she was, she felt an arousal so strong, from what he had done to her; the most intensely erotic act she’d ever experienced.

  The tension between them was thick and tight; his body primed for an action they both knew was wrong, the storm of intent evident in his eyes.

  “You’d better leave now. While you still can.”

  She didn’t argue. Unremittinglydrawn to him yet threatened by him, she knew she had to go.

  Passing members in the lobby, she fled into the cool night air.

  What the hell was he thinking? Why had he done that to her? He knew how to interrogate people; he had years of experience doing it, but that wasn’t a method he had used before. In fact, he had never behaved in that kind of way at all, in interrogation or otherwise. But there was something in those eyes of hers that he had never seen before, something he needed but didn’t understand; a stranger that pulled him to her, despite or perhaps because of her treachery. He wanted to keep her there in that room, hold her hostage, lock her in and fuck her senseless.

  Chapter Three

  Early the next morning, he called his team into his office.

  “Eight days have now passed. I don’t need to remind you that heads are going to roll in this place, and I mean that literally, if I don’t get some answers soon. Mike didn’t do this on his own.”

  He thinks he sees betrayal all around him, and yet he knows it does not lie with those in this room.

  “I know you are all fully aware of the repercussions.”

  Of course they were; they had served in the Special Forces alongside him. They knew him. But he needed to let them know, the situation wasn’t going to go away; it was only going to get worse.

  He was close to losing any semblance of calm. He looked over at Todd, a long time comrade who had an even temperament despite being six foot four and built like a house.

  “Stay behind will you? The rest of you can go.”

  Once the room had cleared, Damien gestured for Todd to take a seat.

  “I talked to Mike’s fiancé last night.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know...I don’t think she had anything to do with it, but I’m not sure. At this stage, we need to keep an eye on her still. I’m not ruling her out just yet. How are the background checks on her in London going?”

  “Nothing suspicious has come up at all; still looking.”

  “Ok, stay on it will you?”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks Todd, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.�
��

  He got up and left the room.

  Alone now Damien sat at his desk. He had plainly seen the genuine look of surprise on her face when he had mentioned the money. He knew he didn’t think she had anything to do with it, deep down; he wasn’t one hundred percent certain but pretty close. His mind though was confused by her; his objectivity becoming lost. He wanted her to be guilty, he needed it. He needed to punish her; he needed her physically. He wanted to be deep inside of her, driving her hard until he found the release he had needed for so long. She beguiled him, so composed and beautiful in the heightened chaos of the drama surrounding her and yet so fiery at the same time.

  He picked up his cell phone.

  “We need to talk. I apologise that things got a little out of hand last night. Meet me at the Club this afternoon, 3pm. There’ll be a lot of people around; there’s a reunion event going on. You will be perfectly safe this time.”

  He knew he had much deeper, darker motives but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “Ok,” was all he heard her say, her tone of voice unreadable.

  He got on with his work, refusing to think about the repercussions of meeting her later.

  Hanging up, Tara sat in contemplation. The previous night had been shocking, brutal; yet a forbidden pleasure had arisen from it that she could never have imagined. A strange sensation of attraction to a dark need inside of her she hadn’t known was there. She needed to be in his presence again; she needed his roughness, his command; his touch. Her skin grew hot at the thought of him; of his hands on her, of his body on hers. A powerful compulsion was enthralling her, forcing her to relinquish any logical thought.

  Later, as 3pm approached, she walked up the steps of the Club in a short black shift dress, a cardigan over her shoulders. She had a range of emotions inside of her. He would be waiting for her; the force of him unleashed again frightened her, yet she was drawn to him like a willing victim. Besides this, she knew that if she did not show up, he would only track her down. He seemed a man fully capable of getting exactly what he wanted, and as owner of a security company, he had all the resources he needed. She would not escape him.

  True to his word, the place was busy. Men in suits stood outside talking and smoking together. Through the windows she spotted women in cocktail dresses.

  As she walked into the bar, the volume of talking hit her and she struggled to see through the crowd. She assumed he would be where they had sat before but on reaching the table she found it occupied by two couples, and she looked around to try to see where he might be. At that moment, briefly, she considered fleeing, seizing her opportunity, yet if she did, his anger would be worse when he found her and she feared for that.

  Gently easing past people, she felt an arm go around her. Turning she saw him, and smiled automatically at the sight of him, forgetting temporarily that he was her captor, responding to the natural attraction she felt for him and the things he had done to her; a familiar face now in a world of uncertainty.

  The smile nearly broke his heart. He didn’t know how to take it; her treachery so beguiling, her face offering kindnesss.

  “I did say it would be busier, didn’t I? But I hadn’t quite expected this. There’s a Library; I doubt anyone is in there with this party going on. Come with me.”

  He took her by the arm.

  As they made their way there, a stunningly attractive woman with blonde tresses trailing down her back, and wearing a tight red cocktail dress, threw her arms around his neck.

  “Damien, darling, so good to see you, where have you been hiding yourself? We must have a little talk.” She looked at him conspiratorially, suggestively.

  “I’m a little busy right now Gwen.”

  He unfolded her arms from his neck, Tara standing beside him, taking the scene in.

  “Let’s go Tara.” He pulled her away by the hand.

  She was jealous; she had to admit it to herself. She felt a shadow of a woman in comparison to the statuesque blonde. Did he have a history with her? Had they been intimate? She thought so; she felt sick, his hand still in hers. She pulled free from his hand.

  He looked down at her sharply, taking hold of her arm and leading her through the lobby far less gently now.

  They went through to the back of the hallway and stopped outside a large double wooden door to the right. Pushing it open, he led her inside.

  It was an awe-inspiring room. Antiquarian books arranged on bookshelves from floor to ceiling, guilt-edged engravings on the fine leather covers, a stunning chandelier hanging low from the ceiling and delicate corner lamps.

  “She’s a lush, and no, I’ve never slept with the woman.”

  Blushing furiously, Tara turned to the bookshelf closest to her, pulling out a book to study it quickly. “I’m really not interested in your private life.”

  “It didn’t look that way to me, and I just told you a fact.”

  If he had one good quality, it was his word. In things that truly mattered, he stood by the truth.

  “Ok.” She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see her face. She focussed her attention on the book, inspecting it inside as she tried to control her emotions, questioning herself as to why she would have this reaction to this man; a feeling of possession toward a stranger who had abused her.

  He grabbed the book from her hands and pushed her against the bookcase with his body, towering over her from behind.

  “You appear to be a rather temperamental woman; one who lacks any respect or discipline. I can easily rectify that.”

  His hands went quickly to the back of her dress where it ended at her knees, and he started to lift it slowly up.

  “Is this how you need to be controlled?” His voice was deep against her ear, vibrating through her senses.

  She felt the first slap to her buttocks; not too hard but making her flesh wobble as it impacted. He did it again, and again, teasingly stinging her.

  She felt his hand reach between her legs. His fingers touched the outside of her panties.

  “You’re wet.”

  He slid his fingers between her folds, through the silk. Suddenly he slapped her there. Slow, teasing slaps against her clitoris again.

  “Open your legs wider.”

  Inextricably entwining her needs with his actions, she complied, her mind obeying his command automatically.

  It gave him more room to spank her clitoris, and after each slap he rubbed his fingers on it, rubbing in the wetness and stimulating her beyond reason.

  He brought his fingers up to his lips. “You taste divine.”

  He could smell her scent. “God, woman, you’re so beautiful.”

  His lips touched her neck, kissing it gently, soothingly. “Such a beautiful traitor,” he whispered into her ear.

  He pushed her hair aside, traced the line of her cheekbone, ran his fingers over her lips.

  The slapping had stopped but between her buttocks she could feel him hard now, erect and pressing against her.

  “I’m not a traitor,” she whispered.

  “Then tell me what I need to know.”

  “Nothing.”

  He was past working out right or wrong. His mind was not working rationally; he could not stop himself from wanting her, to punish her, to possess her; this woman who belonged to the man who had betrayed him, who treated him with nothing but contempt. A heartbreaking liar. He felt a devastating, crushing need for her.

  Stepping away from her quickly, he let her go.

  She turned her body around to look at him; the stunning shape of his body, his physique so powerful and strong, his eyes of such scorching heat. A dangerous enemy; violent and deadly, and yet the most exiting man she had ever met.

  “I want you to pay attention to what I have to say.”

  He had moved further away from her but his presence had not lessened from the distance he had put between them.

  “I’ve come to the conclusion that the best solution at present is for you to pay the money back to me.”
/>   “It’s five million dollars! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not an heiress. Right now, I don’t even have enough money for a breakfast!”

  His face displayed a casual nonchalance, appearing not to care.

  “That’s ok. There’s another, much more pleasant way for you to repay me.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Her teeth were gritted as she spat out the words.

  He loved the fierceness with which she faced up to him, the spirit she showed in her defiance; it bore a strength of character he was proud to witness. It only aroused him more.

  He smiled at her as he continued, “I will draw up a Contract so that it is very clear to you. For now we can just call it a verbal agreement. Which in fact, as I’m sure you will know, is equally binding. You will meet my desires, sexually. You will let me do to you whatever I desire. You will satisfy me. Let me make it abundantly clear; You will pay off your debt by providing sexual pleasure to me. Now turn back around.”

  She refused to move.

  “Do as I say Tara, or I will simply make you.”

  Confused and in shock, she did so, knowing his superior strength, but wary and ready to lash out against him, her mind whirling. Surely he wasn’t being serious?

  As soon as she had turned, he pinned her against the bookshelf with his body. She could feel his cock again, hard between her buttocks as he pushed himself against her. His hand reached around to her neck, stroking the side of it before moving down and reaching her breast, his fingers finding her nipple.

  Something snapped inside her. She tried to push back against him, furious at his manipulation of her yet helpless with his weight on her.

  He let go of her breast and seized hold of her chin.

  “You’re bloody wild.”

  Holding onto the back of her head with the other hand, he released her chin and reached for his tie, managing to undo it solo handedly and pulling it out from his collar. He grabbed hold of both of her hands and brought them together behind her back.

  “Keep still. Make it easier on yourself.”