Hold Me

Chapter 9

9

Julian

Nora and I end up swimming and playing in the pool until Ana comes looking for us, saying that lunch is ready. By then I’m starving, and I’m guessing Nora must be hungry as well. I’m also suffering from blue balls from all that making out, but that’s something that will have to wait until later.

I want Nora to eat even more than I want to f**k her.

Seeing my pet like this—so happy, vibrant, and carefree—has gone a long way toward easing the heavy pressure in my chest, but it hasn’t removed it completely. The look on her face after I took her… It haunts me, invading my thoughts despite my best efforts to put it out of my mind. I know I’ve done worse to her in the past, but something about last night felt worse.

It felt like I wronged her.

Perhaps it’s because she’s now completely mine. I no longer have to condition her, to mold her into what I need her to be. She loves me enough to risk her life for me, enough to want to be with me of her own free will. Everything I’ve done to her in the past was calculated to a certain extent, but last night I hurt her without meaning to.

I hurt her when all I wanted was to hold her, heal her.

I hurt the woman who’s carrying my child—and even if Nora seems to have forgiven me for that, I can’t forgive myself.

“What can I get for you, Nora?” Ana asks when we’re seated at the dining room table. The older woman is beaming at my wife, as happy as I’ve ever seen her. “Some toast? Maybe a little plain rice?”

Nora’s eyes widen at the housekeeper’s words, but she manages to say calmly, “I’ll have whatever you prepared, Ana. I’m better today, really.”

Despite my earlier thoughts, I can’t help smiling. Goldberg must’ve let something slip, or else Ana overheard us talking this morning. That’s why Ana’s smile is wide enough to swallow up her whole face: she knows about Nora’s pregnancy and is overjoyed at the news.

At Nora’s reassurance, Ana’s expression brightens even more. “Oh, good. I realize now that you must’ve been baby-sick yesterday. It happens, you know,” she says in a conspiratorial tone. “Right around six weeks is when they say it starts.”

“Oh, great.” Nora tries to keep the glumness out of her voice, but she’s not entirely successful. “Looking forward to it.”

“I’ll make sure you have the best care, baby,” I murmur, reaching across the table to cover Nora’s delicate hand with mine. “I’ll get you whatever you need to feel well.”

I already contacted the obstetrician Goldberg recommended, emailing her while Nora was having her examination. I might not have planned to have this child, but now that it’s here, the thought of something happening to it is unbearable. When Goldberg hinted at the possibility of abortion today, it was all I could do not to rip his throat out.

Planned or not, this child is my flesh and blood, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm it.

Nora gives me a small smile. “I’m sure it will be fine. Women have children all the time.” Despite her reassuring words, her voice sounds strained, and I know she’s still uneasy with this development.

Uneasy with the fact that she’s carrying my baby.

Taking a deep breath, I suppress the instinctive swell of anger. On a rational level, I understand her fear. Nora loves me, but she’s not blind to my nature.

She can’t be, especially after last night.

“Yes, it will be fine,” I say evenly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll make sure of it.”

And for the remainder of the meal, we avoid the topic, both of us more than happy to focus on something else.

I spend the rest of the day with Nora, completely ignoring the work that’s waiting for me. For the first time in ages, I can’t bring myself to care about manufacturing issues in Malaysia or the fact that the Mexican cartel is demanding lower prices on customized machine guns. The Ukrainians are trying to make amends and bribe me out of my alliance with the Russians, Interpol is up in arms about the CIA sending me Peter Sokolov’s list, a new terrorist group in Iraq wants to get on the waiting list for the explosive, and I don’t give a f**k about any of that.

All that matters to me today is Nora.

After lunch, we go for a walk around the estate, and I show her some of my favorite boyhood haunts, including a small lake on the edge of the property where I once encountered a jaguar.

“Really? A jaguar?” Nora’s eyes are wide as we exit the forested area and emerge onto a small, grassy clearing in front of the lake. The tall trees surrounding it provide both shade and privacy from the guards—which is why I frequently spent time there as a child.

“They come out of the jungle sometimes,” I say in response to Nora’s question. “It’s rare, but it happens.”

“How did you get away from it?” She gives me a concerned look. “You said you were only nine.”

“I had a gun with me.”

“So you killed it?”

“No. I shot a tree next to it and scared it off.” I could’ve killed it—my aim was excellent by then—but the thought of harming the fierce creature had been repellent for some reason. It wasn’t the jaguar’s fault it had been born a predator, and I didn’t want to punish it for having the misfortune of wandering into human territory.

“What did your parents say when you told them about it?” Nora sits down on a broken tree trunk and looks up at me. Her smooth shoulders gleam with the light reflected off the lake. “Mine would’ve been terrified for me.”

“I didn’t tell them.” I sit down next to her and, unable to resist, bend my head to press a kiss to her right shoulder. Her skin smells delicious, and the hunger ignited by our play at the pool returns, my body hardening at her proximity once more.

“Why not?” she asks huskily, turning to look at me as I lift my head. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“My mother was already frightened of the jungle, and my father would’ve been upset that I didn’t bring him the jaguar’s pelt. So there was no point in telling either of them,” I explain. Reaching for her hair, I thread my fingers through the thick, silky mass, enjoying the sensuous feel of it sliding through my hands. My c**k is stiff with need, but this is as far as I intend to take it for now.

There won’t be s*x until tonight, when she’s comfortable in our bed and I can be sure I won’t hurt her.

“Oh.” Nora tilts her head, moving it closer to my hands, and regards me through half-closed eyelids. Her expression is reminiscent of a cat being petted. “What about your friends? Did you tell them what happened?”

“No,” I murmur, my arousal growing despite my good intentions. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?” Nora all but purrs as I slide my fingers through her hair again, lightly massaging her scalp in the process. “You didn’t think they would believe you?”

“No, I knew they would believe me.” I withdraw my hands from her hair as my need intensifies, threatening my self-control. “I just didn’t have close friends, that’s all.”

Something uncomfortably close to pity flickers in her gaze, but she doesn’t say anything or ask any follow-up questions. Instead, she leans closer and presses her lips to mine, her small hands coming up to rest on both sides of my face.

Her touch is strangely innocent and uncertain, as if she’s kissing me for the first time. Her lips just barely graze mine, each touch a hint, a promise of more to come. I can almost taste her, almost feel her, and the urge to f**k her is so strong I shudder with it. It’s only the memory of last night—of the wounded, betrayed look in her eyes—that enables me to stay still and accept her not-quite-kisses, my hands resting on her shoulders. I know I should stop her, push her away, but I can’t.

Her hesitant kisses are the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt.

When I think I can’t bear much more, her hot little mouth moves to my jaw and then trails down my neck, kissing and nibbling with the same torturous gentleness. Her hands release my face and slide down my body, her fingers closing around the bottom edge of my shirt. She begins to lift the shirt, and I groan as her knuckles brush against my naked sides, her touch leaving my skin burning in its wake.

“Nora…” I suck in my breath as she scoots down and kneels between my spread legs, her face at the level of my navel. “Nora, baby, you need to stop teasing me.”

She ignores my directive, keeping my shirt bunched up. “Who’s teasing?” she whispers, looking up at me. And before I can respond, she leans in and places a warm, damp kiss on my stomach.

Fuck. My entire body jerks, my balls tightening on a savage surge of lust. The sight of her kneeling there pushes my buttons in all the wrong ways, calling to my darkest desires. My hands knot into fists, and I take short, deep breaths, reminding myself that she’s fragile right now.

That she’s pregnant with my child, and I can’t take her like an animal again.

Except she’s licking my stomach now. f*****g licking it. Tracing each muscle indentation with her tongue, like she’s trying to imprint it on her memory.

“Nora.” My voice is hoarse. “Baby, that’s enough.”

She pulls back, looking up at me through those long, thick lashes of hers. “Are you sure?” she murmurs, still not letting go of my shirt. “Because I think I want more.” And leaning in again, she scrapes her teeth over my lower abs, then sucks on the spot, her mouth hot and wet on my bare skin.

Skin that’s right next to the throbbing c**k still confined in my shorts.

Fucking hell.

“Nora…” I can barely form the words, my fingers digging into the bark of the tree in an effort not to grab her. “You don’t want this, baby, stop it—”

“Who said that I don’t want it?” Moving back, she looks up at me again, her gaze dark and heated. “I do want it, Julian… You made me want it.”

I suck in a hard breath, my c**k jerking as she releases my shirt and reaches for my belt buckle instead. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her lips curve up. “Yes, Julian, you do.” She succeeds in undoing the belt, and her hand delves into my shorts, her slender fingers closing around my swollen length and squeezing lightly. “Don’t you?”

I nearly explode, my hands reaching for her before I even realize what I’m doing. “Yes…” My voice is closer to a growl as I drag her onto my lap, forcing her to straddle my legs. “I want to hurt you, f**k you, take you in every way possible and then some. I want to mark your pretty skin and hear you scream as I drive deep into your p***y and make you come all over my c**k. Is that what you want to hear, my pet?” Gripping her arms tightly, I glare at her. “Is that what you want?”

She runs her tongue over her lips, her eyes gleaming with a peculiar darkness. “Yes.” Her voice is whisper-soft. “Yes, Julian. That’s exactly what I want.”

Fuck. I close my eyes, literally shaking with lust. With the way she’s straddling my lap in her dress, only a tiny thong separates her p***y from my d**k. If I shift her up a few inches, I could be inside her, pounding her tight little body…

The temptation is unbearable.

One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand. I force myself to do the mental count until I regain a modicum of control.

Then I open my eyes and meet her gaze again.

“No, Nora.” My voice is almost steady as I let go of her arms and move my hands up to cup her face in my palms instead. “That’s not how this is going to go.”

She blinks, looking taken aback. “What—”

I bend my head, cutting her off with a kiss. Slowly and deeply, I invade her mouth, tasting her, stroking her with my tongue. Then I fist my hand in her hair and push her down between my legs, enjoying the look of shock on her small face.

“You’re going to suck my c**k,” I say harshly. “And then, if you’re a good girl, you’ll get your reward. Understand?”

Nora’s eyes widen, but she complies right away. Pulling my d**k out of my shorts, she closes her lips around it and begins to stroke it rhythmically with her hand. The interior of her mouth is hot, silky, and wet, almost as delicious as her p***y, and the pressure of her hand is nothing short of perfect. I’m so near the edge all it takes is a couple of minutes, and the orgasm boils out of my balls, blasting ecstasy through my nerve endings. Groaning, I grip her hair and push deeper into her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop.

Then I pull out, kneel on the ground next to her, and make her lie down on the grass. “Spread open your legs,” I order, tugging her dress up to expose her lower body.

She does as I instruct, her gaze filled with anticipation and a hint of wariness. I place my hands on her sleek, tan thighs and stroke them, enjoying the delicate texture of her skin. Then I bend down, hook my fingers into her pink thong, and pull it aside, exposing her glistening p***y lips.

“You have such a sexy p***y, baby.” The words come out low and raspy as my hunger, just barely quelled, returns with a vengeance. Bending lower, I inhale her sweet, musky scent. “Such a beautiful, wet little pussy.”

Her breathing hitches, a moan vibrating in her throat as I press my lips to her folds, kissing them lightly. “Julian, please.” She sounds tortured. “Please, I—I need you.”

“Yes.” I let my breath wash over her sensitive flesh. “I know you do.” I give her slit a long, slow lick. “You’ll always need me, won’t you?”

“Yes.” She pushes her hips up, begging. “Always.”

“Then, my pet, here’s your reward.”

Pressing my tongue to her clit, I begin pleasuring her in earnest, drinking in her pleas and moans. When she finally shudders and cries out in release, I lap at her a few more times, drawing out her orgasm, and then I move up to lie beside her on the grass, folding my left arm under my head as a pillow and arranging her head on my right shoulder.

We lie like that for a while, gazing out at the shimmering water of the lake and listening to the quiet chirping of insects. I still want her, but the desire is more mellow now. More controlled. I didn’t hurt her this time, but the heaviness in my chest is still there, still weighing on me.

Finally, I can no longer remain silent.

“Nora, last night… it wasn’t because of Peter’s list.” I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell her this, but I do. I want her to understand that I didn’t intend to punish her at that moment, that the pain I inflicted was not part of some cruel design. I don’t know why that would matter to her, coming from her kidnapper, or what the distinction really is, but I need her to know this. “It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.”

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t acknowledge my words in any way, but after a few moments, she turns in my arms and rests her right hand on my chest, directly over my heart.