“Strip.”
She blinked at his tone. It wasn’t angry. It was more…determined. Unease drifted over her and she hesitated, which only made his eyes narrow.
“I thought…” She swallowed hard. “I thought they were coming up for drinks.” Had the plans changed?
He nodded. “They are.”
Oh God.
“Don’t make me tell you again, Mia,” he said in a soft, dangerous voice.
Her hands shaking, she reached down and lifted the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside her. She kicked out of her heels, sending them skittering across the wood floor.
There were a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand questions burning in her mind, but he looked so…forbidding…that she clamped her lips shut and removed her bra and panties.
“Go and kneel on the rug in the middle of the room,” he said.
As she walked slowly to the rug, he began to pick up her clothing and her shoes and then he disappeared into the bedroom, leaving her to follow his command. She sank to her knees, feeling the plush thickness of the lambskin rug against her knees.
When she heard his footsteps, she looked up, and she let out a gasp when she saw the rope in his hands. It wasn’t traditional rope, the braided kind you’d find in a hardware store, but rather it was satin covered, a deep mauve. It looked sexy and soft, and yet there was no mistaking it was meant to restrain her.
He coiled it around his hands, letting the ends hang down as he stalked in her direction. He bent where she knelt and wordlessly pulled her hands behind her back. She closed her eyes, her heart thundering in her chest as he began to wind the rope around her wrists, tying them tightly together. To her further surprise, he looped the ends around her ankles, effectively ensuring she couldn’t move, couldn’t stand, couldn’t do anything more than kneel there and take whatever it was he intended to do.
And that idea excited her. It bewildered her, this desire, this curiosity and edgy need that invaded her. She was by turns nervous as hell, but also tantalized by the forbidden. Other men touching her, doing God only knew what under Gabe’s direction. Surely that was what he intended? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t discussed it.
As he finished, there was a knock on the suite door, and she jumped, her pulse accelerating so rapidly that she became light-headed.
“Gabe,” she whispered, uncertainty bleeding into that one simple plea.
He tugged at the last knot and as he rose, he threaded his hand into her hair, stroking downward in a comforting gesture.
That little touch heartened her in a way nothing else could. Relief settled in as he walked toward the door.
She’d known from the beginning of his desires, his proclivities. He’d outlined them in stark detail. And she’d signed her name to a contract agreeing that she was his to do with as he wished.
Maybe she hadn’t really thought he would. Maybe a secret part of her hoped he would.
Whatever the case, she was kneeling, tied hand and foot, naked, and other men were about to see her.
Gabe opened the door and ushered the three gentlemen they’d had dinner with inside. Their gazes fell on her immediately, and what struck her most was that there was no surprise. No shock. There was only lust and appreciation reflected in their eyes.
Had they known? Had Gabe told them what to expect? Had he told them that she was tonight’s entertainment?
Gabe didn’t immediately direct any attention to her. She sat there quietly while he conversed with the men and poured drinks. It was only after a few moments that they entered the living area, drinks in hand.
Business was being discussed. Gabe went over his ideas for the new hotel and explained the backing that HCM already had and what further backing they were looking for. It was all very businesslike and polite. Except for the fact that she was trussed like a turkey and didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.
She watched the men, all handsome, virile. She saw the way their gazes skated sideways to her, even in the midst of their business conversation. They definitely knew she was there, and anticipation was a living, breathing thing in the room. The air was thick with it.
And then Gabe moved in her direction, his hands going to the fly of his trousers. He unzipped them and let the lapels hang down as he ran his hands through her hair, framing her head before caressing her cheeks. He ran a finger over the seam of her lips and then pressed inside, wetting it on her tongue.
The other men watched intently, their gazes fixed on Mia as they waited, lust clearly marked on their faces.
Gabe pulled out his cock and then palmed her forehead, tilting her head back so she was at an appropriate angle.
“Open,” he commanded.
She was flush with nervousness but excitement also danced in her veins. She was aroused by the fact that he was going to fuck her mouth right here in front of these strangers. She was experiencing so many conflicting emotions that it was hard to know exactly what she thought or felt about the situation.
But she trusted Gabe, and that was enough to make her relax and give herself into his hands and his care.
Her lips parted, and he slid inside her mouth, probing deeply as the tip of his cock brushed the back of her throat. Her cheeks hollowed and then plumped outward as he withdrew and then plunged inside again.
He was surprisingly gentle given his intense mood. She’d expected him to be rougher, more demanding. But he framed her face with his hands, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks as he pushed in with long, slow strokes.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
“Yes, she is,” one of the men said from behind Gabe.
His voice startled her, pulling her out of the moment. She’d been able to forget their presence because she was consumed by Gabe. Only Gabe. Now she was very aware that they were there—watching. Lusting after her. All wanting to be Gabe as she pleasured him.
“Focus only on me,” he whispered as he thrust again, filling her mouth with his rigid length.
It was an easy command to obey. She closed her eyes and lost herself in Gabe’s dominance.
He began to move faster and with more force. He thrust and then held himself deeply, locked against the back of her throat. Then he released her and smoothed his hands over her face while he waited for her to catch her breath.
“She’s fucking hot,” Tyson breathed.
“I want some of that,” Charles said, his voice strained with lust and envy.
Gabe’s hands tightened on her face. He thrust again and then began pushing hard and fast. He erupted against her throat, onto her tongue, spilling onto her lips as he withdrew and thrust forward again.
“Merde,” the Frenchman muttered.
The wet sucking sounds rose in the room, erotic and almost harsh against the silence.
“Swallow it,” Gabe ordered. “Lick me clean, Mia.”
He continued to rock against her, giving her time to obey his dictate. She licked and swallowed, until finally he withdrew, his cock shining with moisture from her mouth.
He reached down and fumbled with the knots at her wrists, loosening the silken rope from around her hands and ankles. Her arms and legs screamed their protest when he pulled her to her feet. He stood there holding her a long moment, allowing her to regain her strength. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the long coffee table in front of the couches.
He laid her down, spreading her legs, and then he raised her arms above her head and slipped the rope around each wrist before binding them to the legs of the coffee table underneath her head.
When he stood again, his gaze was directed at the man nearest to Mia.
“You can touch her. You can pleasure her. Do not hurt her in any way. Do not frighten her. This is all about her. You keep your dick in your pants and do not penetrate her in any way. We clear?”
“Hell yeah,” Charles said as he rose.
Chapter thirty
Gabe backed away from where Mia lay tied to the coffee table. She was an irresistibly erotic sight, her long dark hair tousled and tumbled over the edge, her eyes wide, lips puffy from his possession.
Charles Willis circled her like a waiting vulture, his eyes feasting greedily on Mia’s naked body. Gabe’s stomach clenched when Charles’s fingers trailed over her belly and up to her breasts. Charles circled one taut peak, teasing it to rigidity.
Stéphane and Tyson closed in but stood just back to give Charles his turn. They waited, like predators stalking prey, for their opportunity to touch her.
This was wrong. So very wrong. His gut screamed at him. His mind protested. She was his. No one should be touching her but him, and yet he’d set this up. As what, a test? Something to prove to himself?
He brooded as Charles continued his exploration of Mia’s beautiful body. A body that belonged to Gabe. He was a possessive man—he knew this—and yet he’d never had a problem allowing another man to pleasure a woman under his care. He was…indifferent to it. Not so with Mia.
He hated every goddamn minute of this.
Lisa’s taunt echoed over and over in his ears.
Are you in love with her?
He turned away, unable to bear the sight of Charles’s hands on Mia’s body. Her soft gasps filled the air. He stood tense, hands shoved into his pockets, across the room, not wanting to see or hear the results of his foolishness.
He was a fool. And a complete bastard. A cowardly asshole.
This wasn’t right. He couldn’t allow this to continue. All he’d proven to himself was that he’d never share Mia with another living soul, and he’d be damned if he allowed another man to touch what was his.
This had to end. They had to leave.
He was about to turn and order them all out when he froze, his blood turning to ice.
“No!” Mia cried. “Gabe!”
His name was a terrified cry for help.
He whirled around to see Charles with his fly unzipped, his hand curled roughly in Mia’s hair as he tried to force himself into her mouth.
Rage exploded, a volcanic force erupting. He charged forward and to his horror, Charles, enraged by Mia’s refusal, backhanded her across the face. Mia’s head snapped back, her eyes wide with shock. Blood immediately seeped from the corner of her mouth.
Gabe went crazy.
He threw Charles away from Mia. He hit the couch and Gabe went after him. The other two men scrambled up and away, one of them hastily refastening his fly.
Gabe doubled Charles over with a fist to his gut and then flattened him with another to Charles’s jaw.
Gabe loomed over him, murderous fury sizzling through his veins. “Get out. Get the fuck out of here and I better never see you again. I’ll fucking ruin you.”
He wanted nothing more than to beat the man to a pulp, but he had to see to Mia. Mia, whom he’d betrayed horribly. Mia, who had trusted him. Mia, whom he’d acted reprehensibly toward. All because he was a coward unable to face the truth of what she meant to him.
The other two men helped pick Charles up and they fled the suite, slamming the door behind them.
Gabe flew to Mia, dread weighing on him with suffocating force. Her lips and chin quivered and tears shone in her eyes. She looked scared and embarrassed. Shame shone bright in her tear-filled eyes and it gutted him.
And blood. God. There was blood where that bastard had hit her.
He knelt down to untie her hands, his fingers shaking as he fumbled with the knots. He pressed his mouth to her hair and her temple, kissing her over and over.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Oh God, Mia. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
She was silent, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was in shock over what had happened or if she was too pissed at him to speak. He couldn’t blame either reaction. This was all on him. He’d done this to her. He’d hurt her.
When she was free, he gathered her in his arms, pulling her off the table. He carried her into the bedroom and crawled onto the bed, still holding her tightly. She turned into his chest, burying her face against his neck. The shock of her hot tears on his skin ripped his heart right out of his chest.
God he was such a bastard. A complete and utter asshole. He clutched her to him, desperation crawling up his spine and seizing him by the throat.
“I’m sorry, Mia. God, I’m so sorry.”
It was all he could say. Over and over. Panic hit him right in the gut. What if she walked away? He certainly couldn’t blame her. Hell, she should be running, not walking.
“Please, baby. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. It will never happen again. I shouldn’t have allowed it.”
He rocked her back and forth in his arms as she clung to him, her body still shaking. Whether it was fear, upset or anger, or a combination of the three he wasn’t sure. He deserved whatever she threw at him. He’d failed her utterly. He hadn’t protected her. He hadn’t taken care of her as he’d promised. All because he was trying to distance himself, trying to prove some stupid point to himself that he didn’t need her.
It was such a lie. He did need her. She was his obsession, his fix, a craving that went soul deep. Never had he felt such an overwhelming, fierce possessiveness as when another man put his hands on what Gabe considered his. But he hadn’t treated her like she was his. He’d treated her like she was a thing. A toy, not a woman he cared about.