Black Diamond (Obsidian 2)

“Harder.”

I moaned and worked my body to give her what she wanted, fucking her with as much strength as I could. My headboard began to crash into the wall, leaving dents and marks.

Like I gave a fuck.

Rome moaned incoherently, her words muffled by her screams. When she came, she tightened around me and yanked so hard on the silk tie that she nearly ripped it. A few seams broke, but it remained intact. Her head rolled back, and she screamed like a dying animal, my name muffled by the sounds she made. “Oh god…” She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the remaining high that was slowly depleting from her body. Her pussy gradually released my cock, allowing it to slide through with less resistance.

“You put on quite a show, sweetheart.” I leaned over her and kissed her on the mouth, tasting the salt from her sweat. I pumped into her a few more times, preparing for the grand finale. I loved the beginning, the middle, and the end. But coming inside her was a supernatural experience. I touched heaven and hell at the exact same time.

I released inside her, getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure this woman gave me. I’d come inside her more times than I could count, and each experience was better than the last. I sucked her nipple into my mouth and tasted her flesh as I finished. “I want to keep you tied up like that forever.” I wanted to keep her as a prisoner, her sole purpose to please me around the clock, ensuring she had no other life outside these walls. I would be the center of her universe.

“Then you should.” The fire was back in her eyes already, wanting another round even though mounds of my come were already sitting inside her.

I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth and nicked her with my teeth, applying strong pressure without breaking the skin. “Maybe I will.”

We lay in bed together, both satisfied from our evening of fucking. I didn’t feel guilty for not getting any work done today for Ruin because spending time with Rome was a much better utilization of my time.

She traced her fingers down my chest, feeling the grooves of my abs. “How’s your brother?”

I didn’t like talking about other men when we were in bed together. I would’ve commanded her to never say such a thing again if she were my submissive. I clenched my jaw and waited for the anger to pass, knowing I had no right to tell her off. Isabella was right when she said I wouldn’t be able to do this forever. Already, I felt myself beginning to crack. The more time I spent with Rome, the more possessive I became. And the more possessive I became, the more controlling I wanted to be. “I’m sure he’s good. Haven’t seen him much lately.”

“It’s interesting. Even when I wasn’t living with Christopher, I would still talk to him a few times a week.”

“That’s because Christopher isn’t an asshole.”

She chuckled. “You obviously don’t know him very well.”

Actually, she didn’t know me very well. “Jackson and I have never been close. He’s always resented me because he assumed our father favored me.”

“Why did he assume that?” She continued to touch me, stroking her fingers across my chiseled physique.

“My father left most of his inheritance to me. Jackson didn’t get anything.” When I read his will, I could hardly believe it. The man spent most of his life hating me, chasing me down the hallway with a bat. It wasn’t until I became a man that I started fighting back. That only pushed him harder because he no longer had the control. But I met his ferocity with my own. It wasn’t until years after his death that I realized what our problem was.

We were too much alike.

The first time I tied up a woman and whipped her, I came so hard I screamed. In that moment, I knew I was just as sick as he was. I knew growing up in his shadow had made me just like him. And I suspected he’d realized it too.

“Why is that?” she whispered. Her head lay on the pillow beside me, her beautiful eyes gleaming in the dark.

“Not sure. Sometimes I wonder if it was his form of an apology.” My father and I only talked about business. We hardly ever talked about Mom. When she was admitted to a facility, he never mentioned her again. It was like she’d never existed to begin with. He was the coldest man I’ve ever known—and I knew I’d inherited that same trait.

“Maybe,” she said. “But money can’t make things right.”

She was right about that. The money had never changed my opinion of him. If he knew I used most of it to start up Humanitarians United, he’d be convulsing in his grave right now. “No, it can’t. Jackson has always been jealous that he got cut out of the will. That’s why we disagree so much.”