 
# COERCED

### Billionaire Buchanan Romance

## Alexx Andria

### Contents

Copyright

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A Note From Alexx

Back Cover Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Also by Alexx Andria

About the Author

# Copyright

COERCED

By Alexx Andria

© 2015 Alexx Andria. All rights reserved.

No part of this **NOVEL** may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to an actual person is purely coincidental.

Cover design by Kim Van Meter

The following **NOVEL** is approximately 45,000 words and an original work of fiction.

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# A Note From Alexx

Dear Reader,

What can I say? I love the Buchanan men. Like you, my readers, I can't get enough! There is something so incredibly sexy about a strong man with a dirty side, yet is unbelievably loyal to the right woman. Isn't that the ultimate fantasy? If you're new to the Buchanan men, I suggest starting at the beginning with BOUGHT BY THE BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS.

As always, thank you for your support, your reviews, and your happy word-of-mouth. Without you, I am nothing.

Want to connect?

You can find me here:

Facebook: facebook.com/alexx.andria.796

Twitter: @alexxandria2772

Insta:author_alexxandria

Website: www.authoralexxandria.com

Email: alexxandria2772@gmail.com

# Back Cover Blurb

_Nobody says no to billionaire Sutton Buchanan. Nobody with a survival instinct or an ounce of common sense, anyway. That's because he's a cruel, ruthless bastard who will stop at nothing to get what he wants – including the curvy blonde artist who just gave him the brush- off._

_Elizabeth Downing is desperate and time is running out. Her one chance at landing an exhibition at the Covington Art Museum has been shot down in flames. The shy, insecure artist can't give her art away, much less sell it. How was she going to continue supporting her disabled sister, without selling off a kidney?_

_Unfortunately for Elizabeth, her family tragedy is Sutton's opportunity. Sutton makes Elizabeth a shocking offer that no good man would ever suggest. But Sutton has never pretended to be a good man. _

_Now he's going to own her — body and soul._

_He's going to push past her limits._

_He's going to see where her breaking point is._

_But he won't make the same mistake his cousins made by falling in love with his plaything. Elizabeth's about to find out, the words "love" and "mercy" aren't in Sutton Buchanan's vocabulary._

# 1

Sutton Buchanan idly walked the upscale Covington Art House. His bored gaze flicked with disinterest over the current pieces gracing the exhibit walls.

When had art become so damn boring? Blah, blah, blah, the same old shit on every wall. No sense of emotion or passion.

Wasn't that what art was supposed to do? Spark some kind of reaction?

Hell, he was no fucking art major but this shit?

Boring as fuck.

Sutton rounded the corner and nearly ran into a short, round, plainly agitated blonde who dropped her art portfolio with a small shriek at the unexpected contact.

"Oh! Ohmygracious! Sorry..." She pushed her glasses deeper on the bridge of her nose and then bent to collect her spilled artwork, her small hands fluttering with anxiety as she attempted to quickly grab her art and bail. It was then he realized she was crying.

Intrigued, Sutton began to help but she brushed him off.

"I got it, thanks." She sniffed and shoved the artwork deeper in her bag before hustling off, leaving Sutton with a very nice view of her generous ass. _That was one squeezable, spankable behind,_ he thought with interest.

Long blonde hair trailed down her back in gentle curls and waves and he was struck with the image of twisting that gorgeous mane in his palm, bowing the woman as he rammed his cock between those luscious cheeks.

Amusement curled his lips, his licentious thoughts interrupted by the effeminate voice of the art house director. "Mr. Buchanan...what a pleasure."

With a small sigh of regret, he turned to accept the limp handshake of the director. "Mr. Polk, I presume?"

"You presume correct," Polk tittered, clasping his hands together before gesturing toward his office. "Let us discuss business in my office...or should I say, _your_ office?" He tittered again, believing himself clever. "To be owned by a Buchanan...one can only dream."

Sutton suffered a short smile for the sake of the director. Buchanan Enterprises had recently acquired Covington Art House and his west coast cousins, Dillon, Vince and Nolan — otherwise known as _the cocksuckers_ — had foisted the details onto him to smooth out.

Polk drifted into a seat like a butterfly and graced Sutton with a blinding, too-white smile. "What do you think of Covington? Honest opinions, please."

"I think it's fucking boring," Sutton returned easily, enjoying Polk's instant wilting. "It's stuffy and staid. My grandmother has edgier art in her bathroom than this place. It's a wonder you've managed to keep the doors open."

Clearly not the reaction Polk had been expecting but Sutton enjoyed putting people off their game.

And the man had asked for honesty.

"I see," Polk straightened, losing his flirty behavior and stiffening a little. "We have some of the most esteemed artists of the area gracing our walls. What exactly do you find so _boring_ , as you say?"

Sutton shrugged. "There's no life. There's no danger, no sense of challenge. The artists are comfortable and it comes out in their work."

"I see," Polk repeated, uncomfortable. "Well\--"

"Tell me about the artist that left in tears...the girl."

Polk stared blankly. "The girl?"

"Yeah, the one that left minutes ago. What's her story?"

Suddenly remembering, Polk gave a small dismissive shudder. "The fat one?"

Sutton smiled coldly. "Yes."

Polk must've sensed he was on dangerous ground.

"Oh, um, well, her art was decent enough but here at Covington we cultivate a certain image and she doesn't fit within our vision for the exhibit. She's a train wreck," he finished as if it should be obvious. "Can you imagine her walking around our clientele? She'd scare away business."

_Pretentious prick_. "Shouldn't the art sell the work, not the artist?" he pointed out, enjoying watching the man squirm.

"Of course," Polk agreed quickly, bobbing his shaved head. "But...times today...it's all about the visuals, as you would agree. It takes more than talent."

Sutton could give a rat's ass about the art. He wanted to know more the woman. "What's her name?"

Polk stared a moment then, realizing Sutton was waiting impatiently, he moved quickly to find her resume. "Ahhh, yes, her name is Elizabeth Downing," he read from the paper, handing the resume to Sutton when he gestured brusquely. "Young, local artist. Hard-luck story. Something about her parents dying and leaving her with a disabled sister to care for. Tragic. But...what are we? Social services?"

"And what did you say to her that made her cry?"

Polk, plainly nervous, answered, "I simply said she wasn't right for our exhibit. I certainly didn't mean to make her cry."

"Of course not."

He folded the resume and placed it in his interior suit pocket. He was no longer interested in Polk or the art house. But since Dillon had put him in charge of this project, he'd have some fun of his own.

"Things are going to change around here," he told Polk. "No more of this same shit on the walls. Move me, Polk, or else, I'll find a director with real vision. Understand?"

"O-of course, Mr. Buchanan." Polk's adam's apple bobbed. "I will do my best."

Sutton winked as he rose. "Do better than your best," he advised and left the man wondering how the hell he was going to please Sutton, which was exactly how he liked to leave people.

Besides, his thoughts were already returning to the delectable Miss Downing.

He'd only seen her for seconds but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

For someone like Sutton, that was quite addictive. Most people bored him.

He roamed the downtown plaza, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind moving. He needed more information about the little curvy artist. A sudden smile formed as he warmed to an idea that immediately chased away the pervasive ennui that dogged him.

A project.

Yes...that's exactly what he needed.

A project with nice, fat, lickable tits and an ass that made him want to bite.

_Hello, Elizabeth Downing — you don't know this yet but you're going to be mine._

Elizabeth wasn't a crier by nature but _goddamn_ , couldn't she catch a break?

She stared down at the letter in her hand from the state.

All that mattered was the paragraph that read, " _Due to state-mandated budget cuts, care for disabled minors without life-threatening disabilities will discontinue as of their 18th birthday. Please make arrangements for your charge as benefits are slated to discontinue._"

Her younger sister, Gretchen, was currently living in a very nice facility for autistic children.

The plan had been to transition her to the adult facility of the same company but it was very pricey and without the state's help, there was no way Elizabeth could manage the payments on her meager waitressing salary and tips.

Gretchen was two months away from turning eighteen.

Two months wasn't long enough to figure out a new plan seeing as her hope of landing a spot at Covington House had gone down in flames.

That prancy art director had all but turned his nose up at her as he'd dashed her dreams without a second thought.

She'd even sacrificed her dignity and hoped to appeal to his sense of charity by sharing her particularly situation with her sister but she'd embarrassed herself for nothing. The man had been made of stone.

Her gaze wandered her tiny apartment and she suffered a moment of pure panic.

Art supplies were everywhere. Any useable space had been commandeered for her art, from brushes to canvases, she squeezed her art into every nook and cranny available.

How was she going to care for Gretchen in a one-bedroom? Gretchen was nonverbal and prone to violence when frustrated.

Their parents had found Rising Dawn before they'd been unexpectedly killed in a drunk driving accident three years ago and Gretchen was so happy there.

What was Elizabeth going to do aside from sell a kidney to keep Gretchen in a safe place?

Elizabeth dropped the hateful letter to the kitchen counter and was just about to grab something to eat when a knock at the door startled her.

She wasn't accustomed to visitors — let's be honest, she didn't actively seek out friendships, choosing to keep to herself — and she didn't exactly have the cash to online shop so she was a little wary of unexpected visitors.

Going to the door, she peeped through the peephole, sucking in a shocked breath when she saw the man who'd nearly knocked her soul from her body at the art house. _What was he doing here?_ The bigger question being, how'd he find her?

Elizabeth bit her lip, rising on her tip toes to look again. That suit probably cost more than her entire monthly budget. Dark hair, sharply brushed and held in place with salon product — no dollar store hairspray for him — and wow, those blue eyes were a crime.

Okay, so now what?

Just continue to stare at him through the peephole like some weirdo who chews on her hair when no one is looking?

"Miss Downing, open the door. I know you're home."

She clapped a hand over her mouth. He knew her name? "Who are you?" she called out. "I don't know you."

"Open the door and you'll find out." There was a firm air of command to his tone that sent shivers down her back. He didn't look like a killer. But then, Ted Bundy had been a handsome dude with a psychotic streak. She gave a final look through the peephole. Certainly karma couldn't be that cruel as to send a killer to her door when her day had already been pretty crappy, right?

Shaking her head at her own misgivings, she slowly opened the door to regard the handsome stranger warily. "What can I do for you?"

"Invite me in."

"That's what vampires say," she murmured without thinking, her cheeks heating when she realized she might've just revealed that she didn't spend much time around actual people.

His even smile revealed nice, white teeth but no fangs. That was a good sign. She stepped aside and let him enter her apartment.

He perused her apartment for a long moment and then made himself comfortable on her sofa, lounging even. "Nice place," he said finally and she frowned.

"Who are you?"

"Sutton Buchanan."

Buchanan...name sounded familiar. A memory surfaced and her eyes widened. "Of THE Buchanans? As in Buchanan Enterprises?" One of Forbes richest men in the world. Top 100 for sure.

"So you've heard of my family?" He smiled, knowing full well that she had. "Good. Then you know that I'm accustomed to getting what I want."

Elizabeth chaffed at the arrogance in his tone. "What could you possibly want from me? I have nothing to offer someone like you."

"You haven't heard my offer."

Offer? "What are you talking about?" Suddenly, her hopes rose. Maybe this had something to do with the art house! "Did Mr. Polk change his mind? Is he willing to feature my art in the upcoming exhibit?"

He chuckled and flicked imaginary lint from his pant leg. "Tell me about your sister."

Elizabeth drew back. "What?"

"Your sister. She has...issues?"

Elizabeth's cheeks stung and she cursed her decision to share anything personal with that worm Polk. "Why?"

"Because I want to hear it from your own lips."

"My personal information is not for your entertainment," she said stiffly, wishing she hadn't let the man into her house.

As it was he was sucking up all the oxygen in the tiny apartment because she couldn't quite catch her breath and she was intensely aware of every beat of her heart.

"I shouldn't have said anything in the first place. It was a moment of bad judgment and I'd appreciate if you wouldn't rub my nose in it."

Sutton drew a quick breath as if finished with the small talk and said, "Buchanan Enterprises owns Covington House. A recent acquisition that I questioned until running into you. Let's just say, you've made everything much more interesting and I'm inspired to embark on a project."

"A project?" she repeated, confused and more than a little wary. "What kind of project?"

He ignored her direct question and rose to wander to the window, glancing down at the street and back to her. "This place is abysmal."

"It's what I could afford."

"Exactly."

She glared. "Did you come here for a purpose?"

His gaze raked her body and she stuttered at the blatant perusal. Had he just...? Elizabeth blushed, thrown off by the interest in his gaze. Men like Sutton Buchanan — fit, suave, devastatingly handsome and virile — did _not_ look at Elizabeth like Sutton was right now.

"I'm a direct man, Miss Downing. Shall I present my terms?"

Terms? "What are you talking about?"

"I want you."

"M-me? Want me for what?"

Sutton's answering smile made her heart stop. He couldn't mean...? He cleared up her confusion. "The simple answer is I want to fuck you but that's not the whole of it. I want to own you. Body and soul. I want to strip you naked and make you suck my cock at a moment's notice. I want to watch you come when I snap my fingers. I want you to be at my beck and call. My own personal little sweet slut and I'm willing to pay for it."

For a long moment all Elizabeth could do was stare in utter shock.

He'd just propositioned her.

Sutton Buchanan, one of the richest men in the world had just asked her to be his _whore_.

What the hell was this world coming to? Was this a prank?

An ugly thought came to her.

"Because I'm fat? Is that it? You think you can make me a disgusting offer like that just because I should be grateful that _anyone_ would want to fuck me, much less a man like you?"

Her eyes burned with sudden tears but she held them back. She wasn't going to cry twice in one day!

He laughed at her fears. "You say fat, I say soft and squeezable."

Elizabeth was still reeling from his indecent offer. Did this actually happen to real people? "I don't understand..." that was all she could manage at the moment.

Sutton seized the opportunity to keep talking as if it were completely normal to blatantly proposition a complete stranger.

"Here's what I propose: I will take care of your sister's housing issue and persuade Polk to reconsider your position as a Covington House artist, as well as pay you an exorbitant sum as compensation for your role." He flicked a dismissive glance at her apartment. "Enough to move out of this disgusting hovel for starters and buy a real car."

He'd seen her busted down Honda? "There's nothing wrong with my car. It gets me to where I'm going."

"You're going nowhere," he pointed out cruelly. "You need connections and I can provide them. In the art world, talent isn't enough."

She hated that he was right. How long had she been trying to gain some traction only to find the doors slamming shut for one reason or another?

She was at the point where giving up was hovering at the edge of her mind but she simply couldn't imagine life without her art.

Art had kept her sane when her entire world had crumbled.

Art kept her going when she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"My art is everything," she said in an anguished whisper, mostly to herself.

"I would allow you sufficient breaks to work on your art," he allowed as if being magnanimous, then added with a shrug, "I might enjoy watching you paint naked."

His flippant comment jerked her back to the moment. Indignant, she spat, "I don't know why you thought I would be open to a disgusting offer as this but\--"

"Because you have nothing and you are going nowhere," he cut in with ruthless simplicity. "I can change all that. Isn't the hope of a bright future worth a such a small price?"

"A small price?" she sputtered. "You want me to whore myself to you!"

"Yes."

"I'm not a whore."

"Everyone has a price. Even you."

"You're wrong." Elizabeth lifted her chin, determined to prove her point. She'd find a way — a more respectable way — to solve her problems.

She had two months to figure out the housing situation with Gretchen. Maybe she could pick up more shifts at the diner? Or maybe she could sell some of her art on eBay?

Or maybe...Sutton calmly scribbled something on the back of a business card and thrust it at her with an efficient smile.

Elizabeth accepted the card and flipped it around. She gasped. HOLY FUCKING HELL! That was a lot of zeros.

"My number is on the card. Think about it."

And then he let himself out.

Elizabeth couldn't think. Couldn't see beyond that ridiculous number. The things she could do with that kind of money.

She saw all her problems fading in the shadow of that giant number. She also saw her dignity and pride shrinking in the face of that number.

No. She couldn't do it. Money didn't solve every problem, _except hers_ , a small voice whispered.

No. It wasn't that cut and dry. She was raised with morals and values. Her parents would roll over in their graves if they knew what their daughter was contemplating.

Wait...was she contemplating?

Those zeros made her head swim. It was _ridiculous_ money. It was the kind of money that people dreamed of winning at the lottery or the slots.

Not the kind of money that a good girl like Elizabeth should be thinking about.

But what about Gretchen?

What was going to happen when her sister turned eighteen and Rising Dawn was forced to dump her out of the wonderful, shiny, happy program that'd been a Godsend for their family?

Elizabeth feared for their future without Rising Dawn. Gretchen would regress; Elizabeth would have to work two jobs to hire an in-house nurse. God only knew how she could afford such a service.

Tears threatened again and this time she let them fall. She deserved a good cry over this. Anyone else would've been bawling their head off by this point.

Elizabeth stared at the business card, hating Sutton's offer, hating Sutton for tempting her with a devil's bargain.

He wanted to have sex with her. Not just a one and done, either. He wanted to own her for a time period. How long?

He hadn't said.

What kind of man made an offer like that? A man without a moral bone in his body, clearly.

And what kind of woman would, even reluctantly, consider such an offer?

A desperate woman, that's what kind.

And she was plenty desperate.

# 2

Sutton couldn't contain his brimming excitement, which in of itself was pretty surprising.

At thirty-five, a billionaire since before he was born, there was little he hadn't experienced at this point.

Except this.

Two days had passed but against all odds, Elizabeth had accepted his offer.

When his phone had buzzed and he'd seen the unknown number, he'd instinctively known it was her even though he usually never answered unknown numbers.

Her tremulous voice in his ear had sparked an impossibly deep and violent spark of lust crackling through his body as his muscles went taut and his cock stiffened as surely as if her wet mouth were already on him.

"I'll do it," she'd said. "But I have questions."

"Come to my office; I'll answer any question you have."

A beat followed with, "When?"

He grinned. "Now."

And that was that. She was on her way. Already doing as she was told like a good little girl.

Sutton rubbed his cock through his slacks, unable to stop the giddy anticipation.

He should've tried something like this a long time ago. _Just imagine the possibilities_...

He'd heard rumors of his cousins doing the very thing he was about to do with one notable exception — he wasn't going to fall for his plaything.

The rumor that Vince, Nolan and Dillon had once messed around with the same woman wasn't something anyone talked about — if they were smart, that is — but rumors were sly bastards and still managed to circulate.

The fact that the woman in question was now Dillon's wife was certainly something that everyone studiously avoided; Dillon had a quick temper and a vicious need to protect his precious wife from anything that might upset her.

Sutton supposed bringing up the fact that the beloved Penny Buchanan had once been a paid whore to the brothers might make dinner conversation awkward.

Not to mention the three brothers might tag-team the loose-lipped idiot with their fists.

And Sutton was no idiot.

Nor was he particularly judgmental. He didn't give a shit that his cousin-in-law had fucked around with all three of his cousins. He had better, more interesting things to spend his mental energy.

Such as, just exactly how should he break in his lovely new plaything?

He'd need to have her fitted for new clothes of his choosing — lingerie most specifically — not to mention some fetish wear.

He'd always been particularly keen to have a pony girl in his possession. He wondered how quickly his little peach would protest at the idea of a bit and bridle? And a mane hanging from her lovely ass?

Maybe he'd take her to Malvagio.

The idea was a promising one. Malvagio...his cousins were being short-sighted in their desperate desire to unload the private, elite sex club.

To Sutton's mind, the club was a perfect investment: the club made money hand-over-fist and it was wicked fun, too. _What's not to like?_

The blowjobs alone were worth it! The women invited to play at Malvagio knew how to suck the chrome from a ball hitch.

Jesus, the last time he was there a delicious sub named Sapphire (clearly not her real name) gleefully stuck her finger up his ass while sucking him off, sending him into orbit as he flooded her lovely throat with hot jizz.

God, it'd been sublime.

He hadn't thought to ask Elizabeth if she were still a virgin or what her sexual experience included but wouldn't it be a happy surprise if she were a virgin?

He liked the idea of being her first. It must play to his primal sense of _RAWR_ - _I'm-a-caveman_ ancestry buried in his DNA.

He desperately wanted to be the first man to split her open. _Jesus, that idea was hotter than fuck_. Hotter than little Sapphire's finger-in-his-ass trick.

He swallowed and glanced at the clock. He had to get his shit together. It wouldn't do for Elizabeth to see him so undone.

The Buchanans were known in the business world as sharks; they didn't quail in negotiations and they didn't show weakness.

He made quick work of refreshing himself in his adjoining corporate restroom and none too soon.

His secretary announced that Elizabeth Downing was in the lobby to see him.

That damnable urge to grin returned and he smothered it with great effort.

"Send her in," he said into his intercom, then lounged in his giant leather chair, hungry for what was to come but careful to hide his anticipation with a practiced poker face.

But he wasn't prepared for the shocking jolt to his system.

She entered his office, looking fresh, virginal — like a plump lamb to slaughter — wearing a sweet, slightly faded, yellow sundress that dusted her knees and showed off shapely legs that only sent his imagination soaring.

Her blonde hair tumbled down her back, just as it had when he'd first seen her, and he couldn't stop his mind from conjuring just how amazing it would feel twisted in his hand.

"Close the door and lock it," he instructed, going straight to the preliminaries.

Elizabeth swallowed and did as she was told. He smiled approvingly, then he beckoned. "Now come to me."

But she didn't.

She stopped short, chin lifted, surprising him with, "I have terms."

And even though she was the mouse standing up to the lion, he had to respect her chutzpah.

"Which are?"

Elizabeth fumbled in her small, worn, probably second-hand, purse and withdrew a folded piece of paper to thrust it at him. "I wrote them down so I didn't forget anything important."

He perused her "terms" and while most were silly ( _i.e. Don't make me eat fish_ ), there were a few worth haggling over. He tossed the paper.

"No photos? Come now...that's unreasonable."

She clutched her purse, determined. "I can't afford anyone to know that I'm doing this. I want to build a career. Proof of this could ruin me in the future."

Solid point. He had to give her that. "What if I promised to guard the photos with my life?"

"Anyone who would make someone a bargain like this isn't to be trusted. Sorry. Your word means nothing to me."

Blunt. Sutton found it refreshing. He sighed and decided to be generous. "Fine. No visual evidence of our relationship will ever surface. Good?"

She jerked a nod.

"But I'm sorry I can't agree to this term..." he gestured to number four on the list. "No anal sex. That's definitely on the table so get used to the idea."

She paled. "I-I've heard that if it's not done right, I could be irreversibly damaged."

He found her fear adorable. "I know what I'm doing. I would never hurt you, sweetness."

"Don't call me that. No term of endearments, term number ten."

He rechecked the list. "Ah, yes, I see that. Fine. _Elizabeth_."

She released a shaky breath. "Okay, now sign it and we'll...um, start this thing."

"Not so fast. I have questions of my own. Come here," he commanded.

When she hesitated, he arched his brow in warning and she reluctantly came to him. He pulled her into his lap, loving how solid and soft she felt against him, how hot her little pussy felt on his thigh.

Speaking of..."Are you a virgin?" he slid his hands up her dress to find her little hot box.

Trembling, she nodded, gasping as his fingers found her damp folds.

Her cheeks filled with heat and he nearly crowed with satisfaction.

No one had fucked his little prize! He would be the first.

No doubt she could feel the rock hard length of his cock beneath her ass because he was swelling like he'd just downed a handful of Viagra.

"Very good. That makes me happy. I am curious though...why are you still untouched?"

She stiffened. "That's personal."

He frowned and punished her with a sharp flick against her soft pussy lips.

She jerked at the unexpected pain. "You shall hide nothing from me. From the point that you accepted my offer, you are my property. Do you understand?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Mollified, he petted her softly where he'd caused pain. "Now, let's try again. Why are you still a virgin?"

"I don't date very much. At all actually," she clarified with discomfort.

She struggled with revealing something so private about herself but he enjoyed forcing her to his will.

This was going to be fun.

She was right; anyone who would enjoy doing this to another human being shouldn't be trusted.

_Oh, my sweet Elizabeth...I am going to ruin you._

That's a promise.

# 3

Was she really sitting on Sutton Buchanan's lap?

Yes, there was no getting away from the reality that Sutton Buchanan's hand was up her skirt and his fingers were idly stroking her folds.

She fought the urge to squirm — with nervousness, of course, not because his tender strokes were turning her insides to liquid — but she was out of her element and almost frantic with the need to do something.

"You can have any woman you want...why me?"

"Why not you?"

_Because I'm short, chubby and not particularly beautiful_ was what came to mind but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Instead she said, "Because I doubt I'm your type."

He laughed and shocked her by sliding his finger inside her.

"Don't presume to know my type, Elizabeth. I like women. Of all kinds. There's nothing sweeter than a hot pussy or a wet mouth on my hard cock. Why should I limit myself to a certain type?"

He withdrew his finger slowly and then, in a move that shocked her senseless, sucked her juices off.

He grinned. "Delicious. I shall look forward to making a full meal out of your pussy but first...business."

Sutton tapped her bottom and she gratefully popped from his lap.

Everything was moving too fast.

A hysterical part of her was hoping this was all some weird hormonal dream after watching binge watching _Mad Men_ and that she actually wasn't about to willingly become a billionaire's sex toy but as he prepared documents with efficient ruthlessness, she knew this was real and it was happening, which meant sooner rather than later...Sutton was going to take her virginity.

She barely had a moment to register the magnitude of her decision. It wasn't that she'd had some grand idea of what losing her virginity would be like, but she certainly hadn't pictured losing it to someone like Sutton.

_Think of the positive_ — after it was all done...she'd never have to see him again.

It wasn't as if she and the Buchanan's traveled in the same circles.

That was a plus.

But a part of her mourned that she was giving up something important for cold, hard cash.

Welcome to the jungle — where bill collectors didn't care where the money came from as long as the debt was paid.

"Sign here, Elizabeth," he instructed, handing her a fine-tipped Mont Blanc pen.

The only reason she even knew of the brand was because it had been father's favorite; it'd been his one indulgence for a man who worked hard every day for his family and asked for little in return aside from the love of his family.

Tears stung her eyes but she willed them away.

Her father was dead but he would've understood that sometimes in life, you had to make sacrifices.

She signed her name and then released a shaky breath. "Very good. I've arranged for your first deposit today. The second half of your payment will be made on the last day of our arrangement."

"And when is that?"

"When I tire of you."

She blinked. That was hardly fair. "And if you never tire of me?"

Sutton graced her with a patronizing look. "Nothing holds my interest for long."

While she didn't want him trapping her into an open-ended contract for the rest of her life, she was struck by how incredibly sad his life must be that he found no continual joy in anything.

He accepted the paper and returned it to his desk with relish, very pleased with himself.

"Now...you will quit your job and prepare to move into an apartment of my choosing. You will need a passport, which my secretary will see to and my personal physician will give you a thorough once-over, make sure you're healthy and fit for duty," he winked "so to speak, and you will receive a birth control shot to ensure there will be no children born of this business relationship."

She swallowed and nodded.

Yes, no babies.

She couldn't walk away from this experience and try to forget it if she had a child with him. Ugh. _The very idea turned her stomach!_

He continued, "You will be fitted this afternoon for new clothes, also of my choosing, and you will wear anything I provide. Understood?"

She nodded, unable to quell the queasy feeling in her gut. She hated clothes shopping. Nothing ever fit right and she usually left the stores feeling defeated with very little to show for it.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, noting her anxiety.

"I'm hard to fit," she admitted, her cheeks heating. She gestured to her body. "I'm not exactly a Barbie doll or a supermodel size four."

"If the people I pay to fit you cannot deck you out as I please, it will be their mistake. I accept no failure. By the time they are done with you, you will have a wardrobe fit for a queen during the day but my own private whore behind closed doors." His blue eyes glittered with anticipation. "I can't wait to see you encased in leather with those glorious tits pushed up like offerings and those flared hips practically inviting my hands to grip hard."

The visual actually did something to her insides, something she wasn't prepared for.

Her breath quickened and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "Have you done this before?" she dared to ask.

"No. You're my first."

Why did that give her a private thrill?

"Kneel, Elizabeth," he said, gesturing for her to take her place at his feet.

_How humiliating!_

Elizabeth slowly sank to her knees on the plush carpet, wondering how she would survive this ordeal with her sanity intact.

"Look at me."

She lifted her gaze reluctantly.

Her reward was a pleased smile that sent shockwaves rippling through her.

Maybe if he wasn't so handsome...she'd rather he looked like the ogre he was deep at his core so his good looks didn't get in the way of her private hatred.

"Have you ever sucked a cock?" he asked conversationally, as if he weren't asking such incredibly personal questions. "Just how much sexual experience have you had?"

"I told you I was a virgin."

"Yes, but there's more to experience sexually than just a cock penetrating a pussy. I'm curious to know what experiences you've had."

If she lied about her sexual experience, he would know the minute she fumbled in confusion so she went with honesty, no matter how embarrassing.

"No, I've never given anyone oral sex. Frankly, it sounds disgusting. And the idea of someone else doing it to me...well, I don't see the appeal in that either."

At that he openly laughed as if she'd just uttered the most comical bit ever heard.

She glared, hating that she'd made this deal.

Could she renege? What would he do to her if she backed out?

Maybe she ought to tell him to rip up that stupid contract and shove it in his ass since he seemed to like _butt-stuff_ so much.

"Your ignorance amuses me," he said, once he was able. "I cannot in good conscience let my poor pet continue to believe such ridiculous thoughts about oral sex. Take off your panties and come here," he said, patting his desk, indicating where she ought to put her behind.

"What are you going to do?"

He tsked at her question in warning and once again patted the desk, only this time his gaze brooked no argument.

Did anyone argue with a Buchanan? Not likely.

Seeing no help for it, she removed her panties and climbed onto the desk, her face heating with embarrassment.

He flipped her dress up to her waist, revealing thick white thighs that hadn't seen nearly enough sun and her blonde curly thatch of hair that had never been waxed or shaven beyond what was absolutely necessary.

"Lean back and scoot all the way to the edge," he instructed, his gaze gleaming with hunger and lust.

Warmth suffused her belly at the blatant desire in his stare. Sutton Buchanan wanted her?

She couldn't wrap her brain around the thought without stuttering in surprise.

He grabbed her feet and placed them on the armrests of his leather chair and she wanted to die from mortification. This was worse than being in the doctor's stirrups.

"You have the sweetest pussy, Elizabeth," he said, the satisfaction in his tone stirring something wild inside her. "The little blond curls, damp and dark in some places, are quite beautiful."

She squirmed with unexpected pleasure at the odd compliment.

But before she could say anything Sutton's mouth was on her, sending wild torrents of explosive pleasure rocketing through her as he leisurely sucked and licked at her clitoris as if he had all day and he hadn't anything better to do than eat her out on his desk.

Elizabeth seamed her mouth shut, refusing to cry out even as a near uncontrollable moan built behind her lips.

_Oh God! Why did that feel so good? Don't give in! Don't let him know that you're drowning in amazing sensation!_

But stuffing down her cries was like trying to hold back a tsunami — ludicrously impossible — and a keening gasp escaped as Sutton sucked at the tiny swollen bud buried between her folds, kept secret and forgotten all these years.

Elizabeth's arms began to shake but she held herself rigid, clinging to the pleasure that rippled through her in wild arcs of ridiculous wonderment.

Sutton's muffled grunts of pure enjoyment as he sucked and licked, teased and nipped, was gasoline on the fire.

And then just as she was about to tumble over a cliff, lost to oblivion, Sutton abruptly stopped, pulling back with a grin that was almost cruel.

"First rule you will learn, my pet, you must ask my permission to come. To come without my permission is to risk terrible punishment. Am I clear?"

Elizabeth, confused and still muzzy from what Sutton had been doing to her, could only blink and shake her head, almost prepared to beg but the scraps of her dignity refused to let the words loose.

"Ask for permission and I shall grant it," he said as if he were the most generous man on the planet when in fact, he was the devil.

Shaking, Elizabeth willed her heart rate to slow to normal but the terrible tension binding her insides wouldn't relent so easily.

Sutton realized she would rather bite her own tongue off than ask him for permission.

"Stubborn and willful," he observed but she got the impression he found those traits an asset, which scared her a bit.

What would he do to her?

Sutton abruptly pulled her to her feet and then pushed her to her knees again.

He grinned as he stared down at her, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. Horrified and yet curious at the same time, Elizabeth realized what he wanted from her.

Sutton pulled his cock free from his silk boxers and the fleshy head loomed in her face like a giant pink mushroom on a rock hard stalk.

Palming his cock, he stroked it slowly, watching her reaction.

"Open your mouth," he said and when she gave a small, minute shake of her head, he gripped her jaw painfully and forced her mouth to open.

Tears sprung to her eyes but she accepted the fleshy head of his cock, surprised to find the skin hot and silky smooth against her tongue.

Her first reaction was to gag but there was something sensual about the way his hips thrust against her, the way he threaded his fingers through her hair as he pumped gently, the moans that he couldn't quite help as she found a rhythm that seemed to please him.

And then she realized that there was power in the giving of pleasure that she never would've imagined.

The subtle tremble in his hands as he gripped her firmly betrayed that she was the one in control, not the other way around and that knowledge sent a surge of pleasure through her own body.

She didn't fight the cock going in and out of her mouth, instead, she went after it hungrily, emulating similar motions with her tongue as he had on her and the triumphant result was more satisfying than she could've dreamed.

Sutton groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully.

He stiffened and suddenly warm, salty liquid spurted into her mouth, sliding down her throat in great gobs, choking her with its volume, forcing her to swallow out of fear of making a mess.

"Good God..."

Sutton breathed, his voice a sexy rasp as he pulled away and collapsed in his chair, his cheeks flushed, his gaze hazed.

When he could form words, he assessed her with a narrowed stare, saying with suspicion, "You lied to me."

And she just about fell over.

# 4

"What do you mean, I lied to you?"

Elizabeth repeated, dumbfounded as she began to rise until he shoved her back down to the floor on her knees.

"Ouch! What are you doing?"

"You will not rise until I give you permission to do so," he replied, regarding her keenly.

Why had she lied about her sexual experience? What else had she lied about?

Was she still a virgin?

She scowled at him but sank back onto her knees, mollifying him briefly.

"Are you, in fact, a virgin?"

"What are you talking about? Yes, I told you I was," she said, openly offended. "If you don't believe me, that's your problem."

Was she defensive because he'd caught her in a lie or was she genuinely upset that he questioned her honesty?

He didn't know her well enough to tell.

"You give pretty good head for a girl who's proclaimed to never had any experience with it," he said, gauging her reaction.

She blushed two shades of pink, which he found heartening.

"Beginner's luck, I guess," she mumbled. "Can we not talk about it, please?"

His suspicion relented a notch. Her discomfort was genuine as was her embarrassment.

Was he that lucky that his little virginal pet was a natural in bed? An instinctual lover?

While he was delighted at having landed such a delectable morsel for such a unique arrangement, there was something about Elizabeth that threw him off kilter.

He regarded her as he tucked away his cock, enjoying the way she averted her gaze as if afraid to look when in fact.

_Oh, sweet little peach, you are going to become intimately aware of every nook and cranny of my body._

Just as he would become of hers.

"You may stand," he said, smiling as she adjusted her skirt, still concerned with propriety when he'd just creamed down her lovely throat.

"Collect your things and go to this address," he paused to jot an address and hand it to her "I want you showered and ready for me when I arrive by five. Understand?"

Elizabeth read the address and drew a halting breath, realizing that he meant to fuck her tonight.

He was giddy to have what belonged to him.

All of those beautiful curves...

The end of the work day couldn't come fast enough.

If he didn't have pressing details to attend, he'd say _fuck it_ and bail so he could sink into that pink flesh but that wasn't the case.

The west coast cousins were all about respectability these days and that meant putting in an honest day's work — whatever that was.

He watched her leave, enjoying the view immensely, until on the heels of Elizabeth leaving, his cousin Vince entered the office with a quizzical scowl.

"Who was that?"

"Someone I'm eager to get to know better," Sutton answered cagily.

The last thing he needed was Vince going all sanctimonious on him.

Since getting hitched and having a kid Vince seemed to have forgotten that his roots used to be blacker than sin.

Hell, Vince used to be as bad as they came; he used to be fun to hang out with.

Now?

Giant buzzkill.

Vince dropped into the chair opposite Sutton. "We might have a buyer for Malvagio. Can you meet with them at the club?"

"Sure." Relaxed after that epic blow job, Sutton didn't even bother trying to convince that hanging onto Malvagio was a good business decision.

Vince wouldn't listen anyway.

"Who is it?"

"Honey Cresswood. She comes from old money, European nobility that crossed the pond several generations ago. She's loaded to the gills and kinky as hell."

"My kind of woman," Sutton murmured with a grin. "Married or otherwise attached?"

"Settle down, tiger. I'm not sure she's into guys, at least not this year anyway. She's been shacking up with Emily Rochester for a year."

"Last I heard Emily let the door swing both ways."

Sutton would know — he'd fucked her at least twice.

Smirking, Sutton, added, "But whatever works, right? Why do you think Honey is a good fit for the club?"

"She's connected to the right people, rich as fuck, and understands the need for discretion. I think she's perfect. Hell, I'm half tempted to slash the asking price just to sweeten the deal. I'm sick of lugging this albatross around my neck."

"What happened to you, man?" Sutton couldn't help but ask. "It's like I'm looking at a stranger. Malvagio is a legacy, not an albatross."

Vince chuckled as if Sutton was the one who had it backward. "Someday, you'll realize that there's more to life than fucking."

"God, I hope not," he said with an involuntary shudder, immediately thinking of how he couldn't wait to sink into his new pet.

He reluctantly pulled his thoughts into focus.

"All right, so when's this meeting supposed to happen?"

"Tonight. You free?"

Under any other circumstance, he would've shrugged off his plans but not even a night at Malvagio was worth missing out on what he planned to do to Elizabeth.

"Sorry, tonight's no good for me. Got plans already."

"Might those plans include the girl with the banging curves who just left?"

Sutton knew that Vince only had eyes for his wife but just knowing that Vince had noticed just how hot Elizabeth was made him feel growly.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Already feeling territorial?

He forced himself to chill out.

"Maybe. We'll see," he said without sharing more. "Can you put off the kinky heiress for a night or two?"

"Sure. We've waited this long, we can wait a few more days."

"Oh, that reminds me, I'll be out of your hair by this evening. I've found an apartment to rent that suits my needs."

Vince didn't pretend to care. "Nolan will be pleased to hear it. He says you're a bad influence."

Sutton shrugged. "I'll accept that as a compliment."

"You would."

"If your pretty wife hadn't lopped off your balls and stuck them in her Birken bag, you would've too."

Vince chuckled and rose. "Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

"Pre-ball-and-chain or after? Because honestly, the yardstick against pre-married Vince was pretty short. Married Vince? He's practically a woman."

Vince just laughed at the insult and tipped an imaginary hat Sutton's way.

"And you, dear cousin, will never know the sublime pleasure of being someone's other half."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sutton quipped with an easy smile.

"Oh, it is. You just don't have the sense to know it."

And then Vince let himself out.

Sutton shook his head, bemused.

He found it distressingly odd that all three Buchanan brothers had changed so drastically after falling in love.

Seemed like something to avoid, if you asked Sutton.

He liked his life.

No, correction, he loved his life.

What wasn't to enjoy? Endless pleasure at the drop of a hat, exotic locales at the snap of a finger?

The freedom to do and say whatever he wanted without fear of reprisals?

_Bah_.

The west coast cousins had lost their collective minds.

He smirked.

Their wives must have pretty persuasive pussies to change men like Dillon, Vince and Nolan.

But there was no pussy in the world sweet enough to change him.

And that was a fact he took extreme comfort in.

Elizabeth wandered the new, spacious apartment — did this monstrous space qualify as an _apartment_? — wondering what Sutton planned to do with all the square footage of his newly rented place.

_Take your virginity._

She blushed hard at the knowledge. It was a surreal thing to both anticipate and dread something that usually happened organically.

Except in her case, there was nothing organic about what was about to happen.

_Think of something else or you'll go insane!_

Her gaze frantically sought out a distraction. The place was beautiful, of course.

Why would a billionaire suffer anything less than the best that money could buy.

Fine art— _good God, was that an original Monet?_ — graced the walls, perfectly complementing the equally fine furnishings, which only accentuated the overall sense that she didn't belong amid such opulent wealth.

For crying out loud, her idea of splurging was dropping twenty bucks on a Target purse — and usually she had a coupon for it!

This was not normal.

Not in a million years could she ever imagine that she'd be in this position but here she was, standing like a forlorn, bedraggled plant amidst an apartment filled with hothouse beauties, awaiting her fate.

_Oh, stop being so dramatic_ , a voice in her head snapped when she felt tears starting to burn behind her eyelids.

It's not as if he were going to lop off her head once he was through with her.

Not to mention, he'd already casually dropped that he rarely remained interested in one thing for long.

For a relatively short time she'd have to endure being his...um...well, for lack of a better term, _plaything_ , and then when it was all said and done, she'd have a shit ton of money to go find a really good therapist because God only knew, she'd need one after this experience.

She rounded the corner and found the bedroom.

A huge four-poster bed dominated the burgundy-walled room and Elizabeth felt her courage slipping.

Her stare remained riveted to the bed, even as her knees shook.

Was Sutton a gentle lover?

She nearly barked a laugh. She could guess the answer to that one.

Would he at least take into consideration the fact that she'd never had sex before?

Would it hurt?

She'd heard stories and as stories went, experiences varied.

Some said losing their V-card hadn't hurt at all, barely noticing when the guy stuck it in, but others said it felt as if they were being split in two.

She suppressed a shudder. If there was a God...

But from what she remembered of Sutton's cock in her mouth...it was big.

Which meant...her cheeks heated anew.

_It's going to hurt._

Maybe she could back out.

Maybe Sutton would take into consideration that she'd made a hasty decision and wouldn't hold her to it.

Again with the false hope.

Any man who would coerce a woman so effortlessly, so ruthlessly for his own gain, wouldn't give two shits about a woman's obviously hasty deal-making skills.

_Just get right with your decision because it's going to happen._

That meant, no amount of quibbling or hand-wringing on her part was going to make a bit of difference.

Besides, Gretchen needed her and that was the crux of it all. All decisions hinged on that fulcrum.

Gretchen couldn't survive on her own and Elizabeth couldn't afford to help her without Sutton's money.

So...in black and white terms...Elizabeth would have to see this through, no matter the pain, the degradation, the assassination of her dignity because she loved her sister dearly and would do anything to keep her safe.

Squaring her shoulders, Elizabeth strode into the bedroom as if she owned the place and began unpacking her meager things.

If this were to become her home-away-from-home for a time, she'd need to be able to find her toothbrush.

There was no turning back so there was no sense in looking backward.

_Just endure — and then get the fuck out and forget it ever happened._

# 5

Sutton entered the apartment around six that evening. He found Elizabeth in the living room, reading a book she must've found in one of the bookshelves.

He'd rented the apartment fully furnished, so he had no idea what kind of books were available but he found the sight of Elizabeth engrossed, particularly alluring.

Her feet, tucked up beneath her, finger idly playing with bottom lip as she turned the page with the other hand.

The white, cotton slip of a dress that was a tad small for her ample chest, was enough to send his engine roaring into overdrive.

Everything about her was soft and lush, even her mouth — those pouty lips had felt like heaven wrapped around his cock — and he couldn't wait to know her fully.

_Calm down, be in control_.

He took a heartbeat to cool his jets, then strode into the room with a pleased expression.

"Don't you look the picture of purity," he said, surprising her.

Elizabeth jumped with a tiny gasp and closed the book.

Her nervousness obvious in the way her gaze darted and her hands remained clenched at her side, as if she were unsure of the right move.

_Adorable_.

"How does this work?" she asked, swallowing as she met his gaze. "I mean, what happens now?"

He chuckled as he began to unbutton his suit jacket. "So eager. But don't worry, there's plenty of time for the main event. Would you like a glass of wine?"

She hesitated but agreed, perhaps realizing the wine would soothe her nerves. "One glass won't hurt, I suppose."

"That's the spirit," he said, approving.

He procured wine glasses and a chilled bottle of white from the wine cooler and poured two glasses.

She accepted the glass and raised her gaze to his. He lifted his glass.

"I propose a toast...here's to an equitable business relationship with deliciously decadent strings attached."

"That's an odd toast but I guess it's appropriate given the circumstances," she commented but nevertheless drank and then offered up a compliment. "You have excellent taste in art. I like the Monet."

He shrugged. "I can't take the credit. The apartment came fully furnished. My one concern was the bedroom. I particularly enjoy a four-poster bed — makes for excellent posts from which to secure your lover."

She paled and gulped. "What do you mean?"

Sutton enjoyed the way her gaze widened with fear at the unknown but he had no wish to frighten the girl silly.

He wasn't that much of a monster.

"Fear not, Elizabeth. I don't plan to maim you or anything so barbaric. But restraining a lover...adds to the experience for both involved."

"I can't imagine how," she disagreed with obvious distaste. "I don't wish to be tied up."

"Too bad."

The quick snap of her gaze to his told a story she didn't even realize she was authoring.

The buxom beauty had deeply hidden desires and he couldn't wait to pluck them from her subconscious.

Sutton leaned in, invading her personal space. "Tell me, sweetness...did you enjoy sucking my cock? The taste of me as I filled your mouth?"

A blush stained her cheeks and her breath caught. "I..."

"Don't lie."

She bit her lip as if, indeed, a lie had been prepared to fly from her sweet mouth.

Finally, she jerked an ashamed nod.

Inordinately pleased, Sutton rewarded her with a warm smile and stepped away, finishing his wine with an order.

"Come Elizabeth. Time to discover what secrets you have between your thighs and more importantly...between your ears."

She wanted to drag her feet, feign sickness, outright refuse — anything to keep from following him into the bedroom.

"I'm afraid," she blurted out, stopping him as he crossed the threshold. He turned. "I'm afraid it's going to hurt."

"Which part?" he asked, nonplussed, as if she needed to be more specific.

Elizabeth frowned. "Don't play dumb. I've never had sex before and you're...well, as they say, well-endowed so that, logically, leads me to believe that when you try to do your thing...it's going to hurt. And I'm not a big fan of pain so...I'm afraid."

She glared at him for making her spell it out when he knew full well what she'd been talking about.

Sutton Buchanan was such a prick and worse, he didn't seem to care.

"Do you mean to flatter me into being a gentle lover for your first time?"

"Flatter you? How did I flatter you?" Elizabeth stared, trying not to notice the peek of smooth, muscular chest beneath the crisp white of his open dress shirt. He was a prick and a handsome devil, too.

Wasn't the devil the prettiest of God's angels? Not that she was particularly religious or anything.

She refocused on Sutton with a firm press of her lips. "You don't make a bunch of sense when you talk."

"When a woman tells a man he's well-endowed...that's a pretty nice compliment." He grinned with pride. "Not that I haven't heard it before but I like hearing it from you."

"Well, to be fair, I've only _seen_ yours but it seemed pretty big," she said with a sniff, disliking the idea of complimenting him on anything much less something that filled him with such manly pride. "For all I know, you could be hung like a...spider monkey. I have no real point of reference."

"Spider monkey? I wouldn't even know what that looks like."

Unfortunately, Elizabeth did. "I watch a lot of the nature channel," she said in her own defense, lest she come off as a weirdo with a thing for monkey penises.

_Good going, let's try to steer the conversation from less obviously strange territory._

"Fascinating." Sutton removed his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

She made a small, involuntary gasp when he went for his belt buckle.

He stopped. "The pants have to come off eventually."

"I know that."

"Good." He unbuckled his belt and stripped his pants, tossing them to the fancy ottoman at the foot of the bed.

She'd almost sighed with relief when it seemed he was content to leave his underwear in place but her hope was misplaced as he shucked those, too.

His cock sprang free, jutting out, pointing, stabbing and she wanted to run.

"Does memory serve?" he asked, a slight grin curving his lips.

Yes. It was as big as she remembered. And her mouth watered as inexplicably as her downstairs warmed at the sight.

_Shameful!_

How was she possibly aroused by him? Was she a deviant?

Did she crave this degradation?

This need to be dominated by a demon of a man who'd in one fell swoop answered her prayers and secured her ruination?

"Elizabeth." His voice, stern...commanding. "Come. I want you at my feet. Kneeling before me."

There was no sense in refusing. He had her by the short hairs and he knew it.

And there was something oddly arresting about kneeling at this powerful man's feet, staring up at him, knowing that she was in his complete control.

In order to win the prize, she had to play the game, right?

Elizabeth walked soundlessly across the plush carpet, kneeling as instructed.

"Did you wax?"

"Yes."

"Everywhere?"

She burned with mortification. She'd never been bikini waxed, much less waxed in her nether regions, front and back.

Her vocal chords were pulled tight, making words impossible. Instead, she jerked a short nod.

"Good girl," he praised, running his fingers lightly through her hair, soothing and petting with a gentle touch. "Take my cock in your mouth. I wish to see my beautiful pet with my cock in her throat."

_Beautiful_.

The word scratched against raw nerves. Beautiful had never been a word used to describe her.

Sometimes, on her best days, cute was applied but always with a modifier of 'for a chubby girl,' which as any plus-sized girl knew, completely destroyed the intent behind the supposed compliment.

But somehow, she sensed that Sutton meant it.

He was a cruel bastard but thus far, he'd only ever been honest with her.

He gave no false promises and neither offered pretty platitudes.

Sutton was blunt but seemed to have no need for lies.

She closed her eyes and allowed the fleshy head to pass past her lips, beyond her teeth. Her tongue danced along the shaft, tasting and exploring.

There was something so powerful about giving pleasure in this way. She wished she'd discovered this passionate act way before Sutton.

She hated that he'd been the one to introduce her to it but she supposed the reality was Sutton would be the one to introduce her to everything carnal.

Sutton grunted her name, the sound sending shockwaves of pleasure skittering down her spine and seconds later, hot cream filled her mouth and after a split second of hesitation, sucked it down.

A sigh rattled out of Sutton as he sat heavily on the bed, breathing hard, high points of color dotting his chiseled cheeks. "That mouth...fuck. Talent, Elizabeth...fuck, yes."

Elizabeth warmed under his praise and started to rise until she remembered his stern edict and remained on her knees.

She didn't want to be punished — though she could only imagine what that might entail. Wetness slicked her insides and she squirmed a little, discomfited by the realization that she liked sucking Sutton off.

The power gave her a thrill that seemed out of character but she liked it.

Liked it a lot.

Made her wonder what else she might like.

# 6

What the fuck was wrong with him? Sutton felt ready to pass out.

His heart was banging like a frantic drummer pounding the kicker pedals on a meth-fueled set.

He could barely catch his breath.

God, she was hot.

Elizabeth remained on her knees, like a good girl, just as he'd instructed her earlier.

"You may stand," he allowed, feeling generous. When she rose, her knees reddened from the pressure, he said with barely concealed desire, "Take off your dress."

Her eyes widened with distress, darting to the light. "Can we—"

"No."

He rose to stand beside her, pulling her close. Her soft body felt maddeningly luscious against his and he fought to keep his voice from betraying his need.

"I like your curves," he said, going straight to the point. "Everything about you is soft and lush, womanly in every way." To illustrate, he reached up to fill his hand with her tit, squeezing gently, rubbing his thumb over the suddenly tightened nipple. "I want to see all of that beautiful body, do you understand? You will never hide in the dark with me. So, when I tell you to get naked for me, you'll do so without hesitation. Do you understand, Elizabeth?"

Tears sparkled in her eyes but she nodded. He slowly brushed his lips across her mouth. "You taste like honey."

"You don't have to say things like that."

"I know." He released her and nodded. "Take off your dress."

This time she didn't hesitate, though her hands were trembling.

She inched the dress up over her head and he could've sworn he'd caught the tiniest catch in her breath as she tossed the dress to the floor.

She was a goddess, a vision that sparked a hunger so deep, so visceral, that he could only stare as if he'd been struck by lightening and he were quickly burning to a crisp.

Her tits, so round and tasty with tightly budded pink nipples begged — no, demanded, his kiss — and her hips, rounded and flared like that of Alexandre Cabanel's Aphrodite, made his hands twitch with the desire to touch but he held himself back, needing to be in control.

How was it possible that no one had plucked this tasty cherry? What was it about her that made him crazy with lust like no other?

His reaction both unsettled and invigorated.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been shaking with need for one particular woman.

He walked a slow circle around his prize.

Shoulders squared, chin lifted, Elizabeth stared straight ahead as if she were determined to cling to her dignity no matter what he had in store.

Sutton chuckled, the sound tight and forced even to his own ears.

"You have a fine ass," he observed. Rubbing her ass cheek briefly, he shocked her with a light slap across the soft flesh.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, meeting his amused stare with reproach.

"Because it pleased me to do so."

"Are you always going to do that? Slap me out of the blue?"

"Perhaps."

"I don't like it."

He narrowed his gaze. "What you like is immaterial to me."

But even as he said it, the words rang false. For some reason he did care. And that wouldn't do.

If she were his plaything — bought and paid for — what did he care for her likes and dislikes?

"Go to the bed, lie down on your belly. Put your arms above your head and clasp your hands together. Do not move."

Elizabeth sent him a dark look but did as she was told. _Smart girl_.

He had planned to wait to break in that pristine flesh until after he'd broken in her pussy but she needed discipline.

She was willful and prone to questioning his every action and she had to learn that her master was not to be disobeyed.

Sutton went to the closet and found his treasure trove.

He'd had it delivered, along with his personal effects before Elizabeth arrived.

Opening the trunk, he withdrew his favorite paddle, a hand-crafted wicked beast with a wide end and a comfortable grip for a respectable swing.

He approached the bed, his cock hard as granite at the sight of her beautiful, fat ass awaiting the kiss of his paddle.

He almost preferred to use his hand against her virgin flesh but he needed to make a point.

Maybe to himself as well as to Elizabeth.

"From this moment forward, you exist to please me. And when you question your master, it displeases me. For that, I will punish you."

Without hesitation, he brought the paddle down on her behind, the impact sending a shockwave through her skin, causing instant redness as she shrieked in pain.

She started to cover her behind with her hands until he growled a warning and she clasped her hands together with a sob.

He punished the other buttock with equal force and she yelped again, her thighs shaking as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Will you question me again?"

Her silence was answer enough. He brought the paddle down again and she jerked, crying out loud.

"I hate you," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the blanket but he heard it clear as day. "You're an evil bastard, deviant son-of-a-bitch!"

_WHACK! WHACK!_

"Please stop!"

He smiled. "Please what?"

"Please... _Master_?"

"Very good, Elizabeth." She learned fast. That quality would serve her well.

He tossed the paddle to the chair and went to her prone, shaking body.

Tears wet her cheeks and her eyes were squeezed shut.

He dragged a fingernail lightly across her reddened and angry flesh, bright red, tiny pinprick-sized blood spots emerged in certain spots.

Perhaps he'd been a little too exuberant for her first punishment.

He never lost himself during a session.

Hell, he hadn't even planned to play this night. She pushed him like no one else had.

Years of practiced experience went down the drain. He was like a fucking kid, anxious to play with his new toy.

_Get it together, Sutton._

But she was so achingly beautiful, so vulnerable to his every touch and desire.

He shocked her by kissing her tenderly on the abused skin of her ass.

Running his tongue over the angry redness while he ran his finger down the cleft of her behind.

"Your ass...is made for this. Your body...is a man's wet dream."

"Do you have to beat me to get off?" she asked, her voice watery, scared.

"I'm not a sadist if that's what you're asking," he answered. "But the giving and receiving of pain can heighten one's pleasure exponentially."

"How?"

He smiled indulgently as he ran his palm over her ass cheek. "Do you feel the heat in your skin? Do you feel how sensitive it is?" At her shy nod, he said, "You're never more alive than when you're in the throes of pleasure or pain. To marry the two is sublime."

"I think it's messed up. Maybe I should be the one with the paddle and we'll see how well you like being spanked."

Sutton laughed, enjoying her spirit. "I'm not the submissive sort."

Not that he hadn't tried it out. God, that experience was burned into his brain like a hot coal.

Sutton was never one to shun a new sexual experience, no matter how outside his usual comfort zone.

But he quickly found that being dominated wasn't his cup of tea.

Unfortunately, the dominatrix had been looking forward to taking things to the next level by strapping on and shoving a dildo up his ass.

Yeah, not his thing. But speaking of sticking things...

"Roll over and spread your legs."

Elizabeth slowly complied, wincing as the bedding scraped her tender skin.

Her pussy was the sweetest he'd ever seen.

The pink, plump lips were dewed with her feminine juice and he could nearly taste her unique flavor already.

"Tell me of your deepest, darkest desires," he instructed her as he sank to his knees, pulling her to him so that her pussy was right at his face.

"I don't have any," she protested, squirming a little when he dipped his finger between her seam, testing her wetness.

"Don't lie. Everyone has desires. Secret lusts. Share yours with me."

"I really don't have any," she said with a hint of desperation as if she were afraid of what might spill from her lips.

Sutton spread her lips to find the tiny, swollen nub at the core of her and applied a little pressure with his fingers. Her wild breath charged his blood.

"Do you fantasize about being fucked by two men? Two cocks at once? One in your mouth, one in your pussy? Or perhaps, one in your pussy and one in your ass? I could make that happen."

She shook her head wildly, genuine distaste in her expression and he felt oddly relieved.

He'd never been one to be possessive about his playthings — the more the merrier was a good policy — but he did not want to share Elizabeth with anyone.

At least not yet. Perhaps after he'd had his fill...but not before.

He flicked her clitoris, eliciting a gasp from her parted lips. "Do you fantasize about dressing up in a maid's costume, pleasuring your man on your knees?"

"No," she said, her breath coming more quickly.

Sutton slipped his tongue between her cleft, seeking out that sweet button, teasing it until Elizabeth couldn't keep her moans behind her teeth.

He wanted to know what spun her wheel but he also knew Elizabeth wasn't going to share so easily.

She closely guarded her private self that much he could discern from the short time they'd known each other but he hungered for more.

He wanted to know her deepest, most shameful secrets, ardent desires.

_Patience, Sutton._

Yeah, except he wasn't a patient man by nature.

But for now, he was a _single-minded_ man and that would have to do.

And for now...all he wanted was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was spiraling out of herself and into a place she'd never been.

Pleasure unlike anything she'd known, yet instantly craved like her body needed air, superseded her shame and horror at what was being done to her and by whom.

_Oh, holy Jesus...that tongue...so wicked!_

His name bubbled on her lips. Through sheer force of will, Elizabeth refused to call out his name like a cheap slut getting banged in the storeroom after-hours.

But she wanted to die from the sweetness cascading down her limbs, ricocheting through her body, the epicenter of her bliss radiating from her core and sending shockwaves pulsing like an epic explosion of happiness.

_Don't give in! Don't...ahhhh, too late..._

She came hard.

There was no help for it.

Sutton, as in all things, was merciless.

Driving her endlessly toward that final moment, knowing that she was helpless to stop him.

Her thighs quivered and her belly trembled in the wake of her orgasm and for a long moment, she couldn't do much more than gasp like a fish tossed out of the pond to land on the sand.

But soon enough Sutton was climbing her body, his cock bobbing as he reached her face, a satisfied grin on his handsome mug.

_Don't look in his eyes. Don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were lost to his touch that you would sink to your knees and do whatever he asked, if only he would do it again and again._

But she was a novice at this game and Sutton, a master.

He didn't wait for her approval or invitation and sealed his mouth to hers.

She tasted herself on his tongue and it thrilled her beyond anything she could imagine.

Was she secretly as deviant as Sutton?

The thought scared her but she didn't have time to dwell. Sutton demanded her full attention.

His tongue danced with hers as he pulled her arms up over her head, capturing them firmly.

Her breasts were upturned, begging for attention, which he quickly obliged.

Sutton sucked the pink nipples in turn, making her feel as deliciously wanton as a Hollywood starlet with a reputation for getting around.

In that tiny moment, she was just a woman being consumed by a hot, virile man — she was no longer, the shy, fat, artist who hid behind her art and kept to herself for fear of rejection — and it was liberating.

"You're unlike any woman I've ever known," he said silkily against her lips, nibbling down her neck, nipping and sucking as he went. "You intrigue me."

But the hungry jab of his cock against her belly told a different story. Perhaps one Sutton wasn't eager to share.

Was it possible that Sutton Buchanan, a notorious bad boy and ruthless businessman, felt something for her, something more than simple lust?

_Not possible. Don't dabble in fairytales. You'll only get hurt._

She squeezed her eyes shut and lost herself to the pleasure because that was better than allowing the doubt and insecurity ruin the moment.

But it wouldn't have mattered.

All rational thought fled when Sutton rose up on his knees and roughly pulled her legs up over his shoulders, positioning her right where he needed to shove that hard length deep inside her.

He didn't give her a chance to think and simply pushed his cock inside, taking great pleasure in slowly, but assuredly sinking balls deep inside her wet sheath.

There was no pain, not even the slightest.

No, not pain...just pleasure.

A separate kind from the violent sparks that'd ignited her clitoris...this pleasure was deep, abiding and radiated through her entire body in wells of shuddering wonderful and she couldn't breathe from the scope of it.

Her walls stretched with delicious efficiency as her pussy swallowed Sutton's cock, taking it without issue, no matter his girth or size and Sutton's guttural moan was like gasoline on fire.

Desire slammed her like a mack track barreling down the freeway without brakes.

_Oh God...this was why people went to war...this was sublime._

To be completely filled with cock, was a pleasure she couldn't possibly have known but one that made her slaver for more.

Was she a slut at heart? Was she destined to hunger for that which would destroy her dignity and integrity?

Sutton gripped her legs, leaning into her for better leverage. His face, damp with sweat, hard and determined, but glazed with hunger, was a beautiful thing.

Why did he have to be so damn hot?

He rammed his cock into her, hitting a spot deep inside her that reverberated with pleasure with each hit and she thought she might lose her mind from the wonder of it.

But before she nearly lost herself, he stopped and pulled out to quickly roll her over and put her on her hands and knees. She was too aroused to be mortified, not that it would've mattered.

Sutton was already plunging deep inside her again before she could blink and this time he squeezed her ass hard as he pounded her and she moaned like a beast, loving this position even more.

The deeper penetration was mind-blowing. Sutton reached around and sought out her clitoris as he fucked her.

_Oh God!_

"S-Sutton!"

"Come for me, Elizabeth," he ground out, his voice a sexy rasp as he neared his own release. "I want to feel you coming all around me!"

And if it'd been in her, she would've refused but she was already so close that she couldn't stop.

Everything clenched hard, including her internal muscles, which seemed to send Sutton into orbit.

" _Yess_!" he cried out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he flooded her channel with his cream. " _God, yes!_"

Elizabeth was too far gone to stop and simply clutched the bedsheets in sweaty palms as she rode the wave of pleasure as desperately as Sutton.

Moments later Sutton collapsed to the bed and Elizabeth followed, both breathing heavy as the world spun out of control.

Was it always like this?

Something told her...no.

And that filled her with dread.

# 7

Sutton didn't want to think. He didn't want to acknowledge that he'd just had the best sex of his life because then he'd have to examine why.

He rolled to his side, regarding the sexy beauty still trying to catch her breath.

Her milky skin was damp and the smell of sex filled the room — a musky aroma that turned him on all over again — but it was the hazy look in her eyes of total satisfaction that he found the most alluring.

"Is it always like this?" she dared to ask, seeming afraid of the answer.

"With me? Yes," he lied.

The truth was, sometimes sex was just _meh_ and no matter how dirty or rough or kinky or fantastical, it remained borderline unsatisfying, at least as of late.

But he wasn't about to admit that to Elizabeth.

The last thing he needed was for his plaything to grow feelings based on their epic sexual attraction.

Ugh, the messiness that would ensue.

He smiled with smug charm. "Darling, if there's one thing I know how to do, it's fuck."

"Practice makes perfect, I guess."

"Precisely. And I've had lots of practice."

Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment then ducked away. "I wondered if maybe..."

He shut her down quickly. "The human body is hard-wired for pleasure. Pluck the right buttons and it'll produce a tune. It's that simple. Don't overthink it."

She nodded and there might've been a tiny bit of relief in her expression but she shuttered it quickly enough.

It was that brief glimpse of a private thought that made him want to demand to know what had flitted through her mind.

But a woman's mind was a maze, he knew that well enough, and pushed the irrational need aside for more pressing matters.

He rose and pulled her with him.

"Women should always piss after sex," he instructed her, enjoying how her cheeks pinked so prettily when she was embarrassed.

"Now you're a doctor in your spare time?" she quipped and he allowed her that.

Sutton grinned because he actually liked the show of spirit. "All sass and vinegar beneath that shy girl act, huh? Well, smartass, a bladder infection is nasty business. Urine flushes out the urethra."

He patted her generous behind and gestured to the adjoining bathroom.

"Go do your business and then come back to me."

"Don't treat me like a baby," she said with a scowl but she scooted into the bathroom and shut the door.

Sutton suppressed a laugh at her spurts of independence and spirit.

He suspected buried beneath those good-girl layers was a woman worth knowing.

She returned to the bed, climbing cautiously to sit at the edge, putting some distance between them.

He frowned and patted the spot beside him. Elizabeth offered up a tiny sigh of distress but did as she was told.

Once she was close enough, he tucked her into the cove of his side, enjoying immensely the feel of her soft body pressed against his.

"Tell me about your sister."

Immediately, she stiffened. "Why?"

"Because I desire to know more."

"We should establish some boundaries," she started but he cut her off, incensed that she continued to believe that she had the right to make demands.

"Need I remind you of the terms of our agreement? You belong to me until such time that I tire of you. If it pleases me to know about the insignificant details of your _mundane_ life, you will share without hesitation because you wish to please me. Do you understand?"

"And if I don't give a crap about pleasing you?" she said, drawing away. "I'm a human being, not a robot. And my personal, _mundane_ life, is off-limits!"

She shocked him by scrambling off the bed and leaving the room in a huff, scooping up her dress from the floor as she went.

Fury rippled through him at her audacity. The girl had balls but she needed to learn manners.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stalked after Elizabeth.

Time for a little lesson in obedience.

Elizabeth barely had time to reach the kitchen when Sutton jerked her into his arms, his grip punishing but his eyes hungry as a wolf.

"You have a lot to learn, my pet," he warned, though he seemed to take pleasure in the idea of doling out the lesson. "You've broken the rules with impunity and it's my job as your master to teach you the error of your ways."

"You're not my master," she spat, eyes burning at the pain of his grip. She knew finger bruises were going to pop along her arm where his fingertips dug. "I'm a human being! You can't own me and you never will."

"You signed a contract. No matter that you chafe at the conditions after the fact — you will adhere to the letter of my law or face the consequences."

"I don't want to be your slave and you don't have the right to demand access to my private thoughts and feelings," she said, choking on her tears. "Why are you doing this to me? I'm nobody! I've never done anything to deserve this crap that's happening to me."

"Life isn't fair," he returned coldly. "You're not a child; it's time to stop acting like one. Life is what you make it. You took the opportunity presented to you and now you have to see it through. End of story."

He spun her around and pushed her to the living room. Elizabeth stumbled and caught herself, embarrassment squeezing her dignity with an iron grip.

"I didn't expect this," she revealed, wiping at her eyes. "I didn't know you would were into...weird sex stuff."

He barked a laugh.

"Darling, you have no idea. We've only begun to scratch the surface of what I'm into. I'd thought to ease you into your role but I see that you need more than a gentle touch. You're the kind of woman who needs a firm hand and I'm happy to oblige."

"What are you going to do?"

His thin smile promised all manner of decadent and deviant things — and she was both frightened and aroused...dangerous combination and one she didn't trust one bit.

"You shall see. Prepare to leave."

Leave the apartment? She glanced down at her body with trepidation. "But...I'm dirty..." she could still smell Sutton on her...hell, his seed still dribbled down her thigh. "I need to shower."

"I like the idea of my come on your body. Knowing you are covered in my seed pleases me."

"That's gross."

"You — my sweet, plump plum — are a goddamn prude. I will root that pervasively dull quality out before our time is through."

She stiffened. "I am not a prude."

He laughed. "You are. And by the end of the evening, you will wonder how you ever thought you were anything but."

"Well, if that means I'm nothing like you, I'll take it as a compliment."

Sutton chuckled, her insult bouncing ineffectually like a cotton ball against steel. "Your spirit amuses me. I will endeavor to keep from crushing it. I'll get dressed and then we'll go."

True to his word, Sutton returned a few moments later fully dressed.

Elizabeth had no choice but to follow though she was mortified to leave dressed as she was.

The white dress wasn't something she wouldn't normally wear out. She liked to wear it at home because it was light, airy and — practically see-through — and it was far too revealing for her tastes.

She cringed, imagining the stares that would come her way.

Fat girls wearing revealing clothing always garnered criticism. Body shaming was at its height these days it seemed.

She climbed into Sutton's sleek Jaguar and took perverse pleasure in the hope that she was leaving a mess on his fine leather.

That would serve him right.

Although, chances were she wasn't the first woman he'd squired around after sex.

"Where are we going?"

"And spoil the surprise? I wouldn't think of it."

That made her intensely nervous. "Are you going to humiliate me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you seem to delight in making me uncomfortable."

"Ahh, well, pushing someone outside their comfort zone and humiliating them are two different things. I absolutely promise to push your limits but I will never humiliate you."

She sensed truth in that statement even though he wasn't exactly endeavoring to reassure her. "I guess that's all I can ask for given the circumstances."

"Precisely."

She sighed and watched the city lights zoom by. They entered a dark alleyway and a spark of apprehension returned. "You're not going to murder me are you?"

"You have a grisly imagination," he said wryly. "Of course not. This is just the private entrance to where we are going. Come."

He exited the vehicle and she followed. She heard the faint sounds of music throbbing a sensual beat and she realized with a start they were going to a club, potentially one of those exclusive places that only certain people gained access — such as a Buchanan with pockets lined with gold.

"I'm not exactly dressed for this sort of thing," she hissed, huddling close to him, her gaze darting down the alley.

He flicked his gaze at her briefly. "Are you ever?"

"No," she answered, hating the tremble in her belly. "It's not exactly my kind of scene unless behind that door is an artist community, all quietly painting and minding their own business."

"There are private rooms," he said with a devilish grin that was as scary as it was alluring. "And we might even enjoy one. We'll see how things go."

That didn't make her feel better. He slipped his hand through hers and entered through the back door, nodding to a big, burly man guarding the entrance.

"Don't speak to anyone and stay with me," he murmured in warning, as if she would stray very far in this strange place!

Sutton wound his way through the crowd and claimed a table, possibly held in reserve at all times for him and she sat in the brocade chair, gulping with anxiety as her gaze took in the surroundings.

Pure hedonism. That was the only way to describe what she was seeing.

Everywhere she looked, there was something sexual going on. The dance floor writhed with bodies, some nearly naked, and in darkened alcoves and hallways, actual sexual acts were happening.

She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in shock.

"Where are we?"

Sutton grinned. "Welcome to Malvagio, my sweet pet."

She swung her startled gaze back to Sutton. "Malvagio? What is that?"

"It's Italian for _wicked_. It's a place owned by my cousins and currently for sale, though I heard they might have an eager buyer." He shrugged. "Personally, I feel they should hold onto it. Business-wise, it's a solid investment."

She swallowed, stammering, "B-business?"

"Yes. It's a membership-only club and the invitations are highly exclusive. It costs a small fortune to gain a membership, too but as you can see, everyone is having a good time, which makes procuring an invitation, a highly sought-after opportunity."

"Why would anyone want to come here?" she asked, her cheeks burning with heat but she couldn't possibly admit that being surrounded by sex of all sorts was doing strange things to her insides.

She squirmed covertly but damn Sutton for having the eyes of a hawk.

He leaned forward. "Do you like to watch?"

She shook her head but her wandering gaze betrayed her when she settled with fascination on a couple actively engaged.

Try as she might, she couldn't drag her gaze away. Sutton leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Look how well she takes his cock in her mouth. He's about to come. Do you think she'll swallow?" Her breath hitched in her chest painfully. He chuckled. "I enjoy watching you swallow my load. Very sexy. And you're a natural."

Elizabeth ducked her head, immensely out of sorts. Normal people didn't talk like this, did they?

She couldn't imagine her parents ever talking like this.

_Ugh._

The very idea was like ice-water on her arousal.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, strangled. "I want to leave."

"Nonsense. We've only just arrived. Let's have a drink to loosen things up."

"I don't drink."

Sutton sighed with annoyance. "Well, you're going to start. You could use a little grease on the wheels."

"If you aren't willing to do something sober, you shouldn't be willing to do it drunk."

He laughed at her prim statement and she actually felt stupid for saying it.

She did sound like a prude. One drink wouldn't hurt and maybe he was right, a drink might help relax her.

A barely dressed cocktail waitress with pert breasts and a cute ass — basically the exact opposite of everything Elizabeth thought of herself — slinked up to the table and laid a deep kiss on Sutton right in front of her!

"I didn't expect you tonight," she purred. "What do we owe the pleasure?"

"Sapphire, you gorgeous thing, I can't stay away for long, you know that about me."

"You Buchanans are legendary," she giggled, only then allowing her gaze to slide to Elizabeth, boldly assessing her. "Who is your friend?"

"Venus," he answered smoothly, shocking Elizabeth with the false name.

Sapphire nodded as if approving. "With those rocking curves and glorious tits, it suits. Are you sharing tonight?"

Elizabeth's gaze widened, scared of his answer.

_Please God, no!_

Sutton regarded her with open amusement, knowing that she was twisting with anxiety.

Finally, he shrugged and said noncommittally, "Maybe. Depends on my mood. For now, bring us some champagne; we're celebrating tonight."

"The bottle?"

He grinned. "Why not."

"Yes, sir." She looked to Elizabeth. "You're a lucky lady. This one never disappoints."

"You flatter me," Sutton said with false modesty and Elizabeth wanted to roll her eyes so hard she saw her brain.

As if Sutton had a modest bone in his over-privileged body!

Sapphire pranced off, searing a vision of her perfect ass into Elizabeth's memory and Sutton leaned forward, sealing his mouth to hers in a shocking move.

He swept her mouth with his tongue, reminding her of everything he was capable and she was instantly wet, much to her chagrin.

And to make matters worse, his hand was soon up her dress, feeling that moist heat.

"That's my girl," he said with warm approval. "You play a good game but deep down, you are a dirty girl. I like that about you."

She squirmed and tried to push his hand away. "You said you wouldn't embarrass me," she reminded him, her gaze darting though no one was paying a lick of attention to them.

Sutton laughed and withdrew his hand. "I did say that." But then he slid his finger beneath his nose and inhaled with a hearty sigh. "God, I love the smell of your pussy. Sweet like sugar."

Her cheeks burned but a small, very private part of herself, thrilled at his open appreciation of something so personal as her own scent.

She'd never known that men enjoyed such things. The topic never actually popped up in her artist circles, which was essentially her entire universe.

This place though, the wild hedonism, sparked something deep inside her, something she never would've entertained or allowed in her former life.

It was decadent and primal and she was immediately drawn to the idea of painting something that captured the spirit of Malvagio.

Something sensual, something...deeply erotic.

_What are you doing?_

Painting something that represented Malvagio wasn't going to win her any awards or respect for that matter.

She reined in her quickly burgeoning imagination with an iron fist. Stiffening her spine as she reminded herself that at the end of the day she had to hold onto what made up who she was deep inside, no matter what Sutton Buchanan exposed her to.

Even as she gave herself that little stern reminder, a part of her yearned to be as sexually adventurous as the people she saw freely engaging in whatever grabbed their fancy.

It wasn't just the sex part though, it was the confidence that tugged at her.

To be that confident...that was the thing that she actually yearned for and she'd quietly given up on, choosing instead to pour herself into her art.

Abruptly, she turned to Sutton and asked, "Did you even see my art?"

Sutton lounged, looking like a giant sexy jungle cat with nothing better on his agenda than openly judging others as they walked by, and she wished she'd kept the question to herself.

"No," he answered without shame. "Would you like me to see it?"

She bit her lip.

The quick answer that jumped to mind was a fearful NO! but a different part of her, apparently the part of her that had control of her mouth answered with a tremulous, "Yes" and she knew there was something between them — something she didn't want but something she equally couldn't fight.

"Then I will see it," he said, flashing a brief, seductive smile before handing her a glass of champagne. He lifted his glass and encouraged her to do the same. "To discovering deeper facets within ourselves through the wanton application of mutually enjoyable depravity."

She lifted the glass to her lips and drank, her gaze flitting away from the intense desire she saw reflected in his eyes.

How had she landed her?

Would she escape unscathed?

Something told her...doubtful.

# 8

Sutton finished his champagne and watched with pleasure as his pet sipped at hers, her wide-eyed gaze taking in the sights and sounds of the decadent private club.

She would never admit it but she was intrigued, perhaps even aroused by the salacious nature of what she saw.

"See something you like?" he asked, smirking when she shot him a distasteful look. He laughed. "You are adorably repressed. Tell me what made you hate your own desires? Were you touched inappropriately by an uncle? Or perhaps daddy?"

Elizabeth gasped. "God no! My father was a moral man and a good father. He would never have touched me in anyway that wasn't appropriate and I didn't have any uncles."

"What then? Something must've happened to turn such a luscious sex pot into a shriveled prude."

"I am not shriveled," Elizabeth protested with a scowl. "Just because I believe in love and monogamy doesn't mean I'm a prude."

Intrigued, he leaned forward. "So you're saying that it's not the sex itself that scares you off but rather the idea of sharing that quality of yourself with others?"

Elizabeth hesitated, as if unsure if she wanted to reveal more about herself than she already had but in the end, she nodded slowly before lifting her glass and finishing off her champagne.

Seconds later, her hand flew to her mouth as she unexpectedly burped. "Oh! Excuse me!"

Sutton laughed. "It's the bubbles. You should never slam champagne. It's for sipping, my sweet girl."

"Oh. Well, I don't have a lot of experience with alcohol," she sniffed, mildly embarrassed as she set her glass on the table, her hands clasped together as if she didn't know what to do next.

Sutton decided for her.

"Come. I have something I think you will enjoy."

He grasped her hand and pulled her with him as they wound their way past the dancing couples, past a few people kissing passionately in the halls and into a special room, one of his favorites.

"Where—"

"Shhhhh," he said putting his finger to her lips to silence her, then he pointed out that they were not alone.

The room was set up for voyeurs, people who got off by watching a private show.

There was a sheer drape that separated the two halves of the dimly lit room, both sides decked out with sensual bedding and comfortable, overstuffed chairs.

It was then Elizabeth saw the couple on the other side of the drape, naked and writhing on the bed.

She stumbled back as if to escape but Sutton caught her, pulling her close.

Her sweet rump pressed against his groin and he was quickly reminded by how visceral and primal his attraction to her was.

An immediate erection pushed against his trousers, making itself known to Elizabeth as her breath hitched.

"Look at what you do to me," he chuckled with a subtle strain, his voice at her ear.

She shuddered and stiffened, as if fighting her own reaction.

He understood the need to remain in control, he fought the same battle but he was determined to win.

"I don't want to watch other people," she whispered furiously but she couldn't quite stop the anxious squirm, inadvertently pressing her generous ass against his pulsing cock.

He flattened his palm against the heat of her pubic mound and pressed, eliciting a tiny moan as she softened a little. "You don't know what you want, my sweet peach."

"This isn't right," she protested weakly, her breath quickening. "This is...invasion of privacy!"

Sutton chuckled and decided to enlighten her so she could relax and enjoy the show.

"Couples who come into this room are exhibitionists. They get off knowing that others are watching. If someone wasn't watching, they'd be sorely disappointed."

"Why would someone want..."

And then her breath caught and he sensed she was arrested by the display even as she was repelled by it.

_Oh, his little pet had much to learn._

To aid her, Sutton began to slowly rub her mound, creating just the tiniest bit of heat as he increased the pressure. Elizabeth's spine lost its rigidity and she sank against him, panting a little as he teased her.

"Watch."

It was a simple command but it seemed what she needed to give herself permission to enjoy what she was seeing.

A low moan escaped her lips and he nearly shuddered with need.

He wanted to bend her over and take her right that second but he knew he had to wait, had to stoke the fires just a bit higher before he buried himself in her heat.

"Oh, I'm betting she's a screamer," he murmured with a chuckle. "She's going to get loud. How lucky for us."

And true to his prediction, the woman began to groan, then as her partner began to really pound into her, her groans became animalistic grunts and primal screams as she gleefully accepted every punishing thrust, pushing against her man for deeper penetration.

The man was hung nicely, his fat and veiny cock, slick with juices slid in and out of that hot sheath like a piston ramming into an oiled box, creating friction and heat, and Sutton was beginning to lose the grip on his own control.

God, he wanted to do that to Elizabeth.

He wanted to feel her little cunt clasping around his cock, sucking the milk from his shaft, drawing his seed deep inside her.

And he could wait no longer.

Fuck his control.

Pushing her forward, he lifted her dress and reveled in the beautiful sight of her ass, all plump and generous, a soft sensual pillow reserved just for him, and wasted no time in releasing his cock.

He couldn't think, couldn't stop the ravenous hunger propelling him to TAKE ELIZABETH HARD AND FAST and so that's just what he did.

Sutton buried himself into his sweet little pet, delighting with open abandon how she gasped and groaned as he ground himself against her, bending her over the nearest surface, which happened to be an ornate pillowy divan.

But as he pounded into her, he gripped a handful of her glorious blond hair — like burying his hand in volumes of cornsilk — and wrenched her head back so that she couldn't escape the visual imagery of the other couple fucking while he railed her quivering pussy.

"I want you to catch every detail," he commanded, his voice a harsh rasp as he fought to hold onto his legendary control.

But the sensations pounding through his body were too much to handle, too much to absorb at once and seconds after Elizabeth came, he followed, flooding her sheath with jets of hot cream until he was shaking like a leaf in a strong wind, exhausted.

_Holy fuck. What was it about Elizabeth that he couldn't seem to shake?_

Sutton withdrew his cock and shook it gently then tucked it back into his trousers.

But before Elizabeth could escape to the private restroom, he pulled her into his arms and sealed his mouth to hers.

"You have a magical pussy," he murmured with a wry chuckle.

"That's a weird compliment," Elizabeth replied with a soft shake of her head.

He gave her that and shrugged. "Seems to be the only answer I can come up with."

"Come up for what?"

His gaze roamed her face, a face that was becoming more beautiful to him by the moment, and said, "For the fact that I can't seem to get enough." Then, he kissed her hard before releasing her. "Now go wash up. Time to head home. I have a meeting in the morning that I can't miss."

He slapped her generous ass as she hurried by and he grinned at the tiny yelp that she couldn't stop. Even the scowl she sent him was adorable.

A heartbeat later, when his grin was still plastered on his face, he realized, he needed to get his shit together. What was happening to him?

She was his play toy. His little fun distraction.

Best to keep that in mind before something terrible happened...

Like — horror of all horrors — he actually fell for the girl.

Scary thought, that.

Scary, indeed!

Elizabeth walked blearily into the apartment, yawning with each step. She was exhausted! And she was a bit sore if she was being honest but she'd never admit that to Sutton. The embarrassment would kill her.

But try as she might, she couldn't quite stop the gingerly step as she walked into the bedroom and Sutton caught it.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Her cheeks flamed but she denied any pain. "I'm fine. I just want to go to bed."

But he didn't believe her. "Undress and lie on the bed."

Alarmed that he might want sex again, she whimpered and shook her head, admitting in a panic, "Please no, I'm...a little sore."

"So you lied to me."

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded, adding with the tiniest spurt of spirit she had left, "Yes, well, pardon me for not being so forthcoming about something that's so embarrassing!"

To his credit, he simply chuckled at her outburst. "Come." He held his hand out to her and they walked into the bathroom, where he started the water in the immense bathtub. He watched her with banked interest. "Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

She wanted to deny any enjoyment but she wasn't that good of a liar and she was too tired to try. "You know I did," she finally answered glumly. "Why do you have to go out of your way to poke at me?" The words had escaped her mouth before she realized her mistake and she groaned as Sutton laughed. "I didn't mean it like that."

And her cheeks flamed even hotter, if that were even possible.

"Come, you're exhausted and not thinking straight but I like it when your mouth runs away with you. I think that's how I can get true honesty out of you."

Sutton lifted her dress from her body and tossed it, then helped her into the bath.

But when she expected him to leave her, he stripped and joined her, settling comfortably behind her, filling his hands with her breasts.

Fatigue overrode her good sense and she sank against him.

It was late and all she wanted was to climb into bed but there was something nice about being in Sutton's arms like this that she couldn't quite name.

"Why me?" she asked drowsily, slowly succumbing to the sense of lethargy dragging on her eyelids.

Sutton gently washed her breasts, sliding the soft cotton washcloth over her shoulders and across her belly.

"I don't know," he answered and she heard the slight frown in his voice. "I just know that I have to have you. You're like a drug in my system and I can't get enough."

Warmth suffused her body and it had nothing to do with the heat of the bath.

What was this strange chemistry between them? They were clearly opposites but he sparked an electric need inside her that defied reason.

Maybe it was the same for him.

Elizabeth allowed him to wash her, even between her legs and when they were finished, they dried off and climbed into the bed.

Sutton's arm curled possessively around her to pull her close and she was too tired to fight it.

This wasn't normal and a life with Sutton wasn't actually on the cards but she'd be a liar if she didn't admit that pressed up against his solid length, his arm around her, felt pretty good.

Too good.

Particularly for a woman who was more accustomed to being overlooked by the hot guy rather than pursued by one.

The last thought that drifted through her mind as she dozed off to sleep was, _gotta admit, it's a nice change...even if it meant being pursued by someone like Sutton Buchanan._

# 9

Sutton finished buttoning his sleeve and paused to watch Elizabeth still curled in the bed.

It took everything in him to refrain from climbing back into that bed and doing dirty things to his sleeping beauty but duty called and his cousins were miserable task masters.

Elizabeth, in sleep, was a porcelain princess with alabaster skin and plump, pouting lips that begged for a kiss.

Everything about her was sweet and soft, giving and generous.

He found the soft rolls of her belly very pleasing when he was pressed up against her.

He hadn't thought to sleep with her but when he'd seen all of her belongings in the master bedroom, he'd discarded the idea of putting her in the spare bedroom.

Did that give him pause? Hell yes, if he stopped to think too long about it.

The fact was, he rarely invited any of his bed partners to share his actual bed with him.

Too personal, too much of an invasion of his privacy to tolerate and yet...he couldn't imagine Elizabeth being anywhere but tucked up beside him.

Was this the trap his cousins had fallen into? Hadn't Penny started off as his cousins property? Their "concubine" as they liked to call it?

And now she was married off to Dillon, pumping out baby Buchanans like a happy brood mare.

Sutton suffered a shudder. He wasn't about to share the same fate. "Elizabeth, time to wake up," he said sternly, grabbing his suit jacket and swinging it over his shoulders.

Elizabeth awoke with a groggy blink and yawn and those glorious tits came into view as the sheet slipped.

For a brief second all the thoughts in his head tumbled out of his head and all he could do was appreciate the view.

He considered himself an equal opportunity connoisseur of women's attributes but Elizabeth's breasts...good God, she broke the mold.

He wanted to bury his head between those beautiful globes and suck on the dark pink nipples until they pebbled like ripe berries.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep as she struggled to open her eyes.

Sutton snapped back to the moment at hand and answered brusquely, "Work. Now, listen closely, I have a day of plans for you scheduled."

At that Elizabeth frowned and struggled to sit up, wiping at her eyes and —regrettably — clutching the sheet to her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I have a designer coming this morning to measure you for new clothes and you must be presentable. I want you showered and dressed with a light application of make up when the designer arrives."

"Make up? Why?" Elizabeth asked, grumpy. "I hate make up."

"Because otherwise, you will look washed out in the pictures."

"Pictures?" She straightened, suddenly awake and seeming apprehensive. "What do you mean, pictures?"

"The designer will take pictures of you in each creation and text it to me so I can decide whether or not I would like to purchase it for your wardrobe."

"What if I hate what you pick out?"

He regarded her coldly. "And that would matter why?"

"Are you ever not a prick?" Elizabeth grumbled, pulling the sheets closer. "Last night in the bathtub you tricked me into believing you might actually have a soul."

"Well, I'm happy to disabuse you of that notion," he said. "As I was saying, the designer will send me the photos and I will decide. This should take all day. Prepare yourself accordingly. There is food in the kitchen but feel free to order what you like. I've left you a credit card you can use for household shopping needs."

"Are you going to be gone all day?"

A smirk curved his lips. "Will you miss me?"

She narrowed her gaze. "No."

He laughed at her outright lie. Her body told a story that her mouth couldn't hide.

To demonstrate, he strode to her and gripped her chin for a sweet, yet demanding kiss that he knew she felt to her toes because he did, too.

He released her after a long moment that crackled with chemistry and left them both breathing hard.

"Try not to forget about me, pet."

"Too late," Elizabeth retorted with a shaky dismissal and he laughed as he let himself out of the apartment.

Was his step lighter than usual? Well, he did have that visual of a nude voluptuous women in his head. That would lighten any red-blooded American male's step, right?

Ahh hell, maybe he ought to just forget about Elizabeth for now and focus on work.

At least that was safe.

After a long shower, Elizabeth found her way in the kitchen and searched for something to appease her yowling belly.

She was ravenous!

She'd always read that sex was good exercise but seeing as she'd never been particularly active in that department until recently, she'd bypassed all those pages in the magazines.

Okay, let's be honest, she always bypassed diet and exercise pages because she loved food — as evidenced by the generously slathered cream cheese on her bagel — and if that meant she was a bit soft in the belly and thighs, then so be it.

Besides, it wasn't as if guys were pushing down her door to spend time with her — which was just fine with her.

Her art was all that mattered.

_Speaking of_...she took a generous bite of her bagel and went to her bag to find her sketchpad.

Immediate glee lifted her heart as she settled into a corner of the immense sofa with her soft-lead pencil and pad and started to draw.

It didn't surprise her that the first thing that came to mind was Malvagio. True, it'd been horribly mortifying to realize she'd been surrounded by all sorts of sex in varying degrees of completion but the sensuality of the place had really been her undoing.

Her muse had been kicking to be let loose as her fingers itched to draw something wicked and carnal even as her mind had balked at the very idea.

She was a good girl! She didn't sketch penises, for goodness sakes!

What would her mother say?

An unlikely smile found her lips. Her mom would've laughed.

Nadie Downing had been a bit of a free spirit in her youth, from what Elizabeth had gleaned from the stories.

In fact, if Nadie had had her way, Elizabeth would've been named Rayne but Elizabeth's father had intervened, suggesting the more traditional name as a nod to his grandmother.

_Well, you're not exactly a Rayne, anyway, so it all worked out._

_Rayne Downing? Ummm...yeah no._

Still, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she'd been more adventurous if she'd been given a name that was a little wild instead of the safe, traditional name that practically implied _I NEVER BREAK ANY RULES. EVER_.

Wouldn't what she was doing right now say she was breaking rules? Surely.

Not many people she knew sold their virginity to mega-rich men for an ungodly sum.

Well, that's not true. Prostitutes probably did that at some point. Had to break in that saddle at some point, might as well get some cash for it, Elizabeth countered to herself.

Before too long, Elizabeth realized a picture was emerging, something sinful and wild. As she stared, she realized she was both horrified and fascinated that it'd sprung from her fingers.

A major departure from her usual work.

It was...dangerous. Either a career killer or something that could launch her into the stars.

A bubble of nervous laughter popped from her lips. Wow. Delusions of grandeur, much?

She rose and hurriedly tucked the sketch away, her cheeks burning at the very idea of anyone setting eyes on something so deeply disturbing and realized with a start that the designer was about to show.

Anxiety fluttered in her belly at the thought of being measured and pinched, prodded and judged.

Designers didn't make clothes for people her size. They made clothes for people who were shaped like a hanger.

As if summoned by her apprehension, a soft knock at the door signaled that the designer had arrived and Elizabeth was tempted to go hide in the closet and wait for them to give up and leave.

_Yeah, and imagine what Sutton will do when he realizes you didn't obey his direct command?_

_Oh screw Sutton and his rules._

But by the third knock, Elizabeth was dragging herself to the door, loathing every step but still going to answer.

Cringing, she opened the door with a tiny, nervous smile to find a rather normal looking — although very elegant — lady wearing a welcoming smile on the stoop.

"You must be Elizabeth," she said with the loveliest touch of a French accent. "Of course, you are. Look at those exquisite cheekbones and those to-die-for curves."

At Elizabeth's obvious shock, the woman chuckled and walked past her, saying, "Darling, we shall have so much fun together. Shut the door _ma petite chou_ , we have work to do."

# 10

Elizabeth began to close the door and follow the woman, only to realize with a start that an entourage came with her.

She stepped away to allow the army of people come in, sets of people pushing racks of assorted clothing until the living room looked like a department store with a clearance sale going on.

"Oh gosh," was all Elizabeth could manage as the woman returned to her with an outstretched hand.

"Bonjour, let us introduce ourselves as we are to become quite fast friends." The woman clasped Elizabeth's hand in a gentle but efficient shake. "I am Chantal and I will be your designer from hence forth as per Mr. Buchanan's desire."

Elizabeth sighed and cast a nervous look toward the racks. "I doubt there's anything that will fit me on that rack if you came thinking you were going to outfit a supermodel."

Chantal laughed, a light, tinkling sound of delight and mirth that Elizabeth couldn't help but enjoy. "You are adorable, ma cherie. No, you have a lovely figure, all rounded hips and curves. Never fear. We came prepared to dress you as a queen deserves." She paused to wink. "As we know the Buchanans suffer no disappointments."

Ah yes. The Buchanans and their infernal reach. "Do you know Sutton well?"

Chantal motioned to her assistants and a tape measure was placed in her small hand. "I've known the Buchanans much longer than most," she answered with a brief smile. "Now, darling, I will need you to strip to your skin. No modesty, dear. We haven't time for such things."

Elizabeth gaped and instinctively her hands went to her breasts even though she hadn't even undressed yet. "Is that necessary?"

Again that laugh.

"You are so sweet. It's no wonder Sutton fancies you. Now, off with those rags, if you please. I cannot do my job with all this" she waved her hand dismissively at Elizabeth's clothing "distracting me."

Knowing there was no help for it, Elizabeth slowly removed her shirt and soft cotton shorts until she was standing in her bra and panties.

"That too," Chantal instructed and Elizabeth wanted to groan. Chantal gave Elizabeth a look of understanding, then said, "My sweet, you have a beautiful figure and nothing to be ashamed of. You have the body of a voluptuous goddess, so flaunt it! Now off with it; we are on a tight schedule."

How could she refuse Chantal's sweet but firm request?

Elizabeth unsnapped her bra and dropped her panties, cheeks flaming like the sun at high noon.

Chantal soon started measuring like a French butterfly flitting in and around Elizabeth's body, alighting here, exclaiming with delight there, until Elizabeth was completely measured for future creations.

And then started the exhausting part.

Chantal, had indeed, brought clothes that would fit well enough to gauge interest and style until fresh clothing could be made to fit.

Elizabeth was shocked to learn that dressed stylishly, she wasn't as hopeless as she'd always believed herself to be.

It was possible to admit that she looked quite nice, which was quite a revelation as Elizabeth had long stopped wistfully wishing she'd look like a model someday.

But you know what? She felt like a freaking model today and it was, a little bit, awesome.

After make-up and hair was done to match, Elizabeth didn't know what to think about who she'd been transformed into but a tingle of excitement tickled her spine at the idea of being someone new.

Someone who didn't hide from the mirror or from people.

Someone who owned the skin she lived in — no matter what size that happened to be.

"Ahh, very nice," Chantal said with warm approval at the red cocktail dress clinging to her curves like a second skin.

Then she shocked Elizabeth when she reached into the dress and resituated Elizabeth's breasts as if she were rearranging decorative glass globes! "There! Perfect."

Elizabeth gasped but then one of Chantal's assistants propped the full-length mirror in front of her and she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The dress — never something she would select for herself in a million years – accentuated her flared hips and showed off her shapely legs while the bare shouldered bodice pushed her breasts up until they practically flowed over.

Her blond hair, curled and piled on top of her head, showed off her soft, rounded shoulders and petite dangly diamonds hung from her earlobes.

Chantal nodded with happiness as the air escaped Elizabeth's lungs in a whoosh.

"Yesss...Sutton will not be able to resist you in this dress — that I can promise." She winked conspiratorially. "That dress on your body...a combination that puts rings on fingers, if you know what I mean."

"Oh!" Elizabeth shook her head, flushing at the very thought. Married to Sutton? The idea was preposterous but Chantal didn't know their backstory.

Yet, there was a niggling suspicion that even if Elizabeth shared all the sordid details of how Sutton had basically coerced her into being his sex toy, Chantal would just laugh that cute little laugh of hers and roll her eyes as if entertained by the story.

Chantal was French, after all.

"We don't have that kind of relationship. He..."

"Of course, you don't, sweetheart," Chantal said with a secret smile.

_Oh dear._ What did Chantal think of her?

Swallowing, Elizabeth forced a smile, saying, "I only work for Mr. Buchanan. Trust me, he doesn't have romantic ideas about me."

Chantal waved away Elizabeth's statement and snapped her fingers at her assistants who then began to clear away the evidence that they'd been camped out all day in the living room.

"Darling...I have never been summoned for anyone who wasn't _something_ to Mr. Buchanan. Perhaps he does not know how he feels yet. But after he sees you in that dress..."More tinkling laughter "He will not know what hit him. _Au revoir_ , beautiful girl. Enjoy!"

And then they were gone.

Elizabeth stared at herself in the bedroom mirror, still shocked by the transformation that an army of stylists could create.

_Mon dieu_ , as Chantal would say.

Yet, even as dazzled as she was by the change, she could still see the nervous, shy girl reflected in her own blue eyes.

Would that Elizabeth always live with her? Something told her...yes.

So what exactly did Sutton see in her?

In her secret heart of hearts, there was a desperate part of her that wished to see what Sutton saw, the reason why his eyes hardened with instant lust, why his hands seemed to twitch with the need to touch, and why, above all else, why he'd selected the wall flower when he was most likely surrounded by delicate, exotic blooms.

But to admit that would be to admit that she cared and she refused to care about Sutton in any way.

He wasn't allowed in her heart.

Not ever.

Although Sutton had considered going to pick up Elizabeth, he deliberately ignored his impulse and desire, choosing instead to send a car for her.

It was important to keep a reminder between them that she was his property and operating at his will and that meant being as his disposal if it pleased him.

And it pleased him to have her brought to him like a pretty, plump package just waiting to be undone.

But as he enjoyed his brandy, awaiting her arrival at the restaurant Swank he wasn't prepared for the jolt his heart gave as she walked into view.

Mouth suddenly dry, his heart banging like a drum against his chest bone, he fought the urge to stare at the vision walking toward him in what seemed like slow motion.

Was that music in his head? Or was she actually walking to the tune of 'Pretty Woman'? No, that wasn't possible.

But _good-fucking-God_. That dress. Those hips. AND THOSE TITS!

And then he realized he wasn't the only one staring and a possessive growl threatened to rip free from his lips.

Sutton recovered enough to rise with a reserved but approving smile as he helped her to her seat, unable to stop gazing at how her lovely, bared shoulders begged for the press of his mouth.

"People are staring," she murmured, glancing around nervously. "Is there something wrong? Is the dress too tight?"

"It's fucking perfect," he growled, shocking her with his answer, his gaze hardening as he sent warning looks to all the other men who seemed unable to tear their stares away.

Then, he returned to her, his voice controlled even though he felt anything but. "You look exquisite. Chantal did an excellent job."

"She's very talented," Elizabeth agreed, dropping her hands into her lap, unsure of what to do with herself.

The fact that she was unsure of her own beauty astounded him but he was selfishly grateful.

Elizabeth was a rare beauty in that she was completely unaware that she shone with a brilliance that blinded.

And she belonged to him.

His groin tightened uncomfortably. Would he make it through dinner? He had his doubts.

The server arrived with the wine and proceeded to pour two glasses, pre-ordered by Sutton before Elizabeth had arrived.

She seemed grateful for the liquid courage.

"Are you feeling all right?" He asked solicitously, trying to wrench his gaze from the bounty of her breasts but it was nearly a losing battle. "You seem flushed."

Elizabeth's gaze darted around the room, still uncertain. "I'm not used to being stared at. I feel self-conscious in this dress"

"You shouldn't. You are the most beautiful woman in this place." He arched his brow. "You don't believe me?"

"I don't know what to believe when it comes to you," she admitted in a hushed whisper. "People like you don't exist in my world."

"Oh? And what kind of people would that be?"

Elizabeth took another sip before answering. "People who go to all this trouble for someone like me."

Sutton leaned back to regard her with curiosity. "Tell me...what happened in your life that you got the impression that you had no value?"

At that Elizabeth blushed as she gave a tiny shrug. "I didn't say I don't have value...I'm just saying that...well, I don't understand what you see in me that you couldn't have found elsewhere."

Sutton knew that Elizabeth held no fondness for him and he didn't require it of her but it stung just the same that she continued to keep him at arm's length even after he'd demonstrated that he wasn't the devil.

"Do you like the clothes?"

"They're very nice but not exactly me."

"I wasn't under the impression that you were overly attached to the former you."

"You never asked."

She had him there. "Touché." Sutton swirled the wine in his glass leisurely but in truth, his insides were drawn taut.

He decided to share an uncustomary gesture of benevolence on his part.

In truth, he felt quite good about what he'd done today and wanted to bask in a resultant smile.

"I paid your sister's room and board for the year. That should relieve some of your uncertainty that perhaps you are not doing the right thing for all concerned. I also had my people investigate Rising Dawn."

Elizabeth startled, still in shock at his revelation but there were no smiles on her pretty face.

If anything, she looked rather pinched.

"Why would you do that?"

"Which part? The payment or the investigation?"

"Both."

"I felt inclined to be generous."

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between him and his previous good mood began to evaporate.

When Elizabeth began a halting and altogether insincere 'thank you' he waved it away, with a negligent, cold shrug.

"It wasn't entirely altruistic. I want you with no distractions. Rising Dawn is an excellent care facility and I'm sure after receiving the generous donation Buchanan Enterprises has bestowed upon their facility, your sister will, no doubt, be elevated to VIP service, which means I will not suffer any familial excuses intruding on my time with you."

Elizabeth stared with incredulous anger. "Why did you do that? I didn't ask you to."

"It pleased me to do so."

"And what will your generosity cost me?" Her flat tone angering him anew.

He snapped, "You will find out soon enough," and finished his wine, immediately flustered by how quickly Elizabeth pushed his buttons. "Can you not simply say thank you? Must you always be so difficult?"

Elizabeth fell silent at his brusque retort. Then, she surprised him with a quiet, "Thank you."

This was his reward for doing something nice. He motioned for the server. _Note to self: don't bother_.

"Another bottle," he told the man, who rushed to do his bidding — as most people did except Elizabeth.

But even as pissed as he was, he couldn't stop staring at her beauty.

There was something delicate about her, even though she was voluptuous and thick.

Sutton flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the fine linen tablecloth.

"You look beautiful tonight," he told her, "But the chip on your shoulder is unbecoming. Have you ever stopped to wonder how many people you've pushed away simply because you were too afraid to allow anything genuine past those iron gates?"

"Don't presume to know my life," Elizabeth said, stiffening. "Just because I give you my body doesn't mean you get an all-access pass to anywhere else."

He shocked her with a laugh when he realized something profound and something he hadn't expected during the course of dinner.

In truth, it wasn't entirely funny at all but he was struck by the similarities between them. Hadn't he often been accused of being a cold bastard?

He'd learned long ago to keep people at a distance. Maybe all the blood rushing to his fucking groin had robbed his brain because he wasn't thinking straight.

He leaned forward to ask, "Do you know how two porcupines make love?"

Elizabeth shook her head, bewildered by his sudden change in demeanor.

Sutton answered with a twist of his lips. "Very carefully."

# 11

"Go to the restroom and wait for me there," Sutton instructed after the server had taken their orders and left. She stared, unsure she'd heard him correctly. He leaned forward, "Go now."

"W-why?"

"Because I can't take another moment without being inside you."

Even as wildly inappropriate and shameful his admission was, Elizabeth couldn't help the dark thrill arcing through her as she rose on shaky legs to walk to the restroom.

One last backward glance revealed a feral expression on Sutton's face that took her breath away.

She closed the door and leaned against the wall, scared to death of what he planned to do. A nervous glance revealed a single stall in the fancy restroom, which was at least a blessing, but surely he didn't plan to go through with...

The door opened and Sutton entered, locking it behind him and she knew there was no escaping what he planned.

Elizabeth couldn't fight the immediate arousal that slicked her insides.

"I'm sure this is against the rules," she said breathlessly as Sutton pulled her to him, his hand roaming her curves like a hungry man.

Elizabeth swallowed her gasp as his hand cupped her behind and pushed her tightly against his hard length.

"Fuck rules."

And there it was.

Sutton lived by no one else's creed and that single quality was both an insane turn-on and a distasteful turn-off at the same time.

Rules were in place for a reason. A world without rules was anarchy.

But could she even try to form that argument when Sutton's hands were on her?

Hell no.

"Oh God," she gasped as his wandering hand slipped up her dress to find her wet folds.

He was really doing this! Here! In a public restroom of the fanciest, most exclusive restaurant in town!

Elizabeth couldn't stop the shiver of excitement that followed.

It was decadent and wrong but her heart was hammering like a beast inside her chest, powered by adrenalin and the taboo thrill of getting caught.

"That's my bad girl," he murmured against the shell of her ear as she clung to him, shuddering when his finger slipped inside her. "Being bad feels pretty good, doesn't it?"

Sutton didn't give her time to answer.

Within a blink, she was pressed against the wall, her dress up over her hips and his cock sliding into her tight sheath.

He pulled her hips back and she flattened against the wall, arching her back.

Sutton didn't hesitate.

The sense of urgency in his thrusts sent her senses scuttling for safety but there was no escaping the extreme pleasure arrowing her womb, pulsing and grinding with total abandon as she barreled toward her own climax.

Maybe it was the fear of being caught that drove her desperately over that edge or maybe it was just that Sutton's cock was supremely suited for her needs but within moments she was clenching and shaking and moaning as her release shook her hard.

Sutton followed soon after, coming with a harsh grunt as he poured himself into her, soaking her with jets of his spurting seed, bathing her in a volume of come that was almost obscene.

"Holy fuck," he breathed as he withdrew, his voice shaky. "Jesus..."

She spun around to lean against the wall, needing the strength of something solid behind her or else she'd go sliding to the floor in a heap.

Her womb still pulsed with tiny rhythmic clutches that squeezed more pleasure out of her nerve endings and she wasn't sure she would be able to walk.

Sutton, drawing a deep breath, returned his spent cock to his trousers and pulled her back into his arms as if he couldn't quite get enough.

"You are exquisite."

And before she could marvel at his simple yet eloquent compliment, a discreet knock at the door made her heart stop. They'd been caught!

But Sutton merely smiled and opened the door, revealing a rather nervous looking host.

"Ahem, Mr. Buchanan...this is a single occupancy restroom," he said, his gaze flitting to Elizabeth with uncomfortable knowing.

Sutton just grinned and stunned the man by stuffing a wad of cash into his lapel pocket. "And a lovely restroom it is." Then, grabbing Elizabeth's hand, they left the host behind without a further glance.

_That's what money did for you_ , Elizabeth thought with an embarrassed smile; it erased boundaries.

Was that a good thing?

Her body still sang with pleasure, every muscle and bone all _melt-y_ and _soft_. She'd be a total hypocrite if she poked at Sutton at this very moment.

So she didn't.

Instead, she took her seat across from him with a demure smile, as if she hadn't just been fucked in the restroom; as if his seed wasn't still coating her insides.

Because she'd be a liar and a hypocrite if she didn't admit that a part of her loved breaking the rules and that the look of total possession in Sutton's eyes made her feel gloriously desired — and those two things...were intoxicating.

Was this what happened when you sold your soul to the devil?

A slow, pleasurable slide into oblivion?

At the end of this insane ride, what would be left of the original Elizabeth?

A warning tingle at the back of her brain told her it was best to leave certain questions unanswered for now.

And so that's what she did.

Because she was starving and Sutton had ordered pasta — and sometimes a girl just had to enjoy what was put in front of her.

Whether it was epic sex with an enigmatic man or a giant plate of steaming fettuccine with creamy alfredo and freshly shaved parmesan.

Sutton walked into the board room with an extra spring in his step and he didn't care who noticed, which in hindsight, was probably foolish.

The Buchanans were ruthless with information, often ferreting away tidbits until it became of use to them and that didn't exclude family.

"Well, someone's having a good day," Reece observed, causing the rest to stop their conversations and glance at him. "Care to share what's put that shit-eating grin on your smug face?"

"I don't kiss and tell," he told his little brother, to which Reece just laughed.

"Since when?"

"Since now."

At that Reece's brow went up. "Intrigued. Tell me something interesting to liven up this boring corporate shit."

Vince piped in with a wry, "You're welcome to leave, little cousin, but the spoils of war go to the soldiers in the fight."

Reece sent Vince an annoyed acknowledgment.

The west coast and east coast cousins had the unenviable challenge of working together to manage the massive holdings organized under the Buchanan Enterprises umbrella.

And they didn't always see eye-to-eye on those decisions.

Particularly those who wanted to do the least amount of work, such as Reece.

"Why does there have to be war at all?" Reece shot back with a lazy shrug. "I swear you become more and more like our fathers every day. It's all work and no fun whatsoever. What happened to the days of total debauchery. We used to be kings; now we're nothing more than neutered dogs."

"Careful," Dillon warned but Reece was hardly one to take a hint.

"What? Truth hurt, cousin? Marriage, kids, the incessant need for moral fortitude...it's enough to make me want to vomit." He looked to Sutton for back up. "Am I right? You were just saying the other day that the decision to unload Malvagio was steeped in moral backwash."

"It's my fucking club and if I want to sell, I can sell it," Vince growled, his grip tightening on his pen.

If Reece wasn't careful he was going to end up with a Mont Blanc accessory right in the middle of his forehead.

"Of course it's your club," Sutton said smoothly, shooting his little brother a look. "But if you took a step back and looked at your decision objectively, you'd realize that perhaps you're being a little...hasty. Are we not in the business of making money? You've tapped an otherwise untouched market and we're reaping the benefits ten-fold. If you hadn't wanted Buchanan Enterprises involved, then you shouldn't have folded into the books, even if it's under a false identity."

Vince and Nolan — twins who, in Sutton's opinion, had always shared one brain — took exception to Sutton's comment but it was Nolan that took point, not surprisingly as he was also co-owner.

"Your opinion is duly noted. The fact is the club belongs to me and Vince and we've tired of the responsibility." Nolan's tightened jaw belied the calm statement. _Ah, cousin, your poker face is much to be desired._

"Which is why I offered to take it off your hands," Sutton countered smoothly. "If that's your sole reason, I see no obstacle in keeping the club and reaping the rewards."

Nolan glared. "I am not interested in selling to a family member."

"No? Why?" But Sutton already knew the answer. "Wait, let me fill in the blanks...it's because the wifey has issues with your dirty little sex club and you'd do anything to get between those thighs. My guess is that the missus quite objects to the sordid business operating right beneath her precious nose. No judgment, cousins, truly. A good pussy is a treasure but really, this is _business_ and frankly, I'm appalled that your judgment has been so compromised by the fact that your wife owns your fucking balls!"

Ironic that Reece had stirred the pot but it was Sutton who'd left the meeting with a black eye and busted lip.

But to be fair, Vince and Nolan had jumped him — like he said, one brain — and he'd at least gotten in a few good hits before Dillon and Reece had jumped in to pull them apart.

_Fucking twats_ , he spat residual blood from his mouth. He missed the good ol' days of epic orgies, drunken weekends, and shaky, relieved laughter after narrowly missed STD scares.

Okay, _that_ part he didn't miss, but the rest, sure.

After that unfortunate incident in the boardroom, Sutton had told the cousins to _go fuck themselves_ and he was taking the day off.

But he didn't go straight to the apartment. He needed some time to cool off. Besides, a part of him was a little embarrassed that his cousins had gotten the jump on him like that.

Sutton found himself at a small dive bar and walked into the dimly lit, stale-smelling place wondering if broken dreams and wounded dignity were on the house drink list.

He ordered a scotch and found himself immediately joined by a woman who was plainly a prostitute.

"Buy a lady a drink?" she purred, her breath sour and smelling as if she'd brushed her teeth with vodka.

Sutton cast her a quick glance — probably in her late twenties but hard living had etched the years on her face.

Her body was nice enough though — and signaled the bartender.

"Whatever the _lady_ is having," he said, lifting his glass in a mocking toast.

"Vodka rocks," she answered with a happy smile before returning to Sutton. "So...what happened to your face? Someone catch you with their wife?"

He chuckled. "What makes you think that?"

She assessed him boldly. "You're good looking with money to burn. My guess is that you don't get told no very often but sometimes you can't always get what you want."

He downed his drink and signaled for another. "Not bad. But you're off-base with the cheating wife angle. This," he gestured to his busted face "was a family thing. Cousins with a flash temper."

"Family reunions must be a gauntlet," she said, her smile revealing a few crooked teeth but otherwise a decent mouth. "So what's your name?"

"Sutton. And yours?"

"Gemini."

He chuckled. "Your stage name?"

She gave him a sidewise glance. "Something like that."

What was he doing chatting it up with an obvious working girl like Gemini when he had Elizabeth waiting for him at his apartment?

Because he could.

Wasn't this exactly what'd happened to his cousins? The very thing that'd softened them to old men before their time?

They'd been effectively neutered by the females in their lives.

And that sure as hell wasn't going to happen to him.

He turned to the woman.

"So what's on the table, Gemini?"

Gemini, the wily bitch, sensed a big payday and purred, "For a handsome guy like you? Anything you want, baby."

"Anything?"

"Sure."

"And if I want to shove my dick up your ass?" he asked casually, enjoying the sordid conversation.

There was something enjoyably taboo about fucking with a dirty girl.

"I love it in the ass," Gemini answered with a giggle that made her look a lot less hard and used up. "Will you be gentle?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Good. I like it rough."

"And where would this exchange happen?" he asked, curious.

"I have a room above the bar. Vinny lets me stay and do my thing if I give him a cut."

Vinny must be the bartender/owner, he surmised. The same guy who was pretending not to listen to every word they were saying.

But Sutton wasn't interested in going upstairs. He signaled to Vinny. The bartender came over with a hard expression.

"You got an office?" he asked.

"Yeah," he answered warily. "Why you asking?"

Sutton pulled his bill clip and plucked a few hundreds loose. "Where is it?"

Vine covered the cash with his palm and slid it off the counter and into his pocket, then gestured, "Down the hall, first right."

"Excellent." He popped from the stool and started walking, knowing Gemini would follow like an obedient puppy.

Sure enough, Gemini was so quick on his heels, he could practically feel her breath on his nape.

Sutton locked the door and surveyed the room. Not much to look at but most likely cleaner than the whore's rented fuck room.

Gemini, her dark hair a little greasy, hung down her back as she stripped easily out of her clothes.

Her tits, surprisingly nice, perky globes, should've been sufficient to rev his motor but he couldn't help but think of Elizabeth and how her breasts were nearly perfect.

And that just pissed him off.

"On your knees," he commanded as he released his cock, grimly satisfied to see his shaft thickening.

Gemini sank to her knees but said, "A blowjob is $100, swallowing is extra."

He pulled about four hundred from his bill clip and tossed it to her, smiling as the bills drifted to the floor. She grinned. "Just for that, I'll give you a little extra."

"Intrigued," he said, wondering what she was going to pull from her carnal treasure trove. "Dazzle me."

There was something to be said for the skills of a professional — he soon discovered what the extra entailed as her wet finger went up his ass as soon as her mouth closed over his cock.

The sensation of being impaled on that tiny digit while her hot mouth worked his length was just the right cocktail to override his incessant comparison to Elizabeth that kept threatening to rob him of a good time.

Tongue, mouth, finger...it was a heady combination and it worked well enough.

A groan rattled out of him and he spurted a paltry jet of fluid to accompany his weak orgasm but for a split second, he wasn't thinking about Elizabeth nor fretting about how he wanted to spend every waking moment with her.

Gemini swallowed every drop, grinning with saucy confidence as she scooped up the fallen cash.

She tucked the money into her purse and then returned to him, spinning around to present her ass.

"Think you got some fuel left in your tank to drive this?" She wiggled her ass and he gave her a playful smack, enjoying the way her flesh jiggled from the impact.

He squeezed her ass, knowing he could probably get it up to fuck her but did he want to?

The appeal simply wasn't there. In fact, he was struck by the oddly disquieting sensation of guilt.

He pulled more cash from his bill clip and handed it to her. "Take the night off, get a pizza and watch a movie."

Gemini's eyes bulged at the cash he was giving her and she simply seemed lost for words.

"You sure? I don't mind working for my money."

"Just take the money and enjoy," he said, feeling worse by the minute.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Since when did he feel guilty about anything?

And why the fuck would he feel guilty at all?

Because of Elizabeth? She was his whore. Just like Gemini, only his interaction with Gemini was more honest.

"You're a good guy," Gemini said, dressing quickly.

"No, I'm not," he said, quick to disabuse her of that idea. "I'm simply bored."

If he'd said that to Elizabeth right after sex she would've been hurt but Gemini simply laughed.

"Oh, tough guy, huh? All right, go home to your woman. You haven't done anything that can't be smoothed over with a new fancy ring or something."

"What makes you think I have a woman waiting for me?" he asked, stiffening.

Gemini sauntered up to him and grabbed his cock, startling him with her bold movement.

"Because only a man who has something to lose would think twice about taking what's right in front of his nose. Besides, you're only half-hearted into this anyway. It took all my skills to keep you hard, which means one of two things."

Reluctantly, he prompted, "Which is?"

She gave him a short squeeze before releasing him.

"Either you're gay and you don't know it (or you're gay and you do know it but you're fighting it) or you're in love with someone else and same rules apply."

He released a shaky laugh. "I can assure you...I am not in love. I don't believe in such bullshit."

Gemini laughed and slung her purse over her shoulder as she let herself out, saying, "You might not believe, but that cock of yours does. See ya later, honey-pot. You know where to find me if you change your mind."

Sutton closed his eyes and winced as his injured eye protested.

_What a fucked up day_.

And then he dragged himself out of that dive bar, determined to forget everything that'd just happened — and everything Gemini had said because there was no way a simple street whore knew more about his life than he did.

_Right?_

# 12

Sutton hadn't returned to the apartment that night and by morning, Elizabeth hated to admit, she was worried.

Not that she was his keeper — what did she actually care where he spent the night? — But there was no denying the anxious flutter in her belly and the fact that she couldn't exactly sleep without him beside her, his arm tucked around her, drawing her close.

It was absurd.

And her own inane, unbelievable attachment irritated her to the point that she felt as if she might burst from the pent-up tension building inside her.

So when he walked through the door, his face looking as if someone had mopped the floor with it, she couldn't stop the rush of words that fell from her lips.

"OHMYGOD! What happened?" she asked, going to him with concern but when he shrugged away her touch, anger blotted out anything kind that might've been residing in her heart. "Knowing you, you deserved it. I don't feel bad for you one bit."

"Good. I didn't ask for your kindness or your concern. All I want from you is your obedience."

"If you wanted blind obedience, you should've gotten a puppy," she shot back, crossing her arms. "I'm a human being, remember?"

"I remember that I _paid_ for your obedience," he replied coldly and she tried not to flinch.

He was unaccountably cruel when he chose to be.

And to think she'd been worried about him!

Elizabeth glared, wishing she could drop him out of the window on his head.

She spun on her heel but he stopped her.

"Draw me a bath. I wish to soak. My head is pounding like a bitch."

"Draw you a bath? What is this? 1852? What the heck does that mean? Sorry, _draw_ your own fucking bath, your highness. I have plans."

But she didn't get far.

Suddenly she was pinned against the wall by his big body, and she was assaulted by an odd scent on his body that immediately made her stiffen.

Cheap perfume. Something flowery. Something she'd never wear. _NOOOOOO!_

She pushed at him, immediately wounded beyond anything she might've imagined, tears springing to her eyes. "You fucking prick."

He tried to kiss her but she kneed him in the groin, dropping him like a stone.

"I hope you got your money's worth, you fucking asshole. And you know what? Don't even think of touching me ever again. I'm done with you."

"What makes you think I paid for it?" he ground out, rising on shaky legs to cast a hard look her way. "And you're wrong, I will have you whenever I want because just like _her_ , you're my bitch, bought and paid for."

"Fuck you!"

"Excellent idea," he said, springing after her faster than she might've imagined after sustaining a kick to the nuts.

She shrieked and turned to run for the door but he was faster than her and managed to tackle her to the ground.

They went down hard but Sutton tucked her into his arms so that he took the brunt of the impact but as soon as they hit the floor, he rolled on top of her, holding her tight.

"Have you forgotten so quickly the terms of our agreement, my lovely peach?"

"I hate you," she said with hot tears streaming down her cheeks. He'd slept with someone else. And it hurt. It shouldn't but it did.

And the acknowledgement of that fact was a worse feeling than the actual deed.

"Yes, that's right. Hate me. It's better that way, sweetness because we are not a _thing_. Do you hear me? We are not _dating_ , we are not _anything_. You are my plaything and as such you exist solely to pleasure me and if you fail in that occupation, I will no longer have need of you. Do you understand?"

"You've made yourself perfectly clear," she said, choking on her inexplicable grief. "Get off me."

But his cock was hard. She could feel it grinding against her belly and she wanted to cry big giant drops of sad-flavored tears.

So much for thinking that Sutton was insatiable for her and only her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she cried. "If you wanted to be with other people, why did you mess with my life? You could've left me alone."

Sutton's gaze faltered and his mouth seamed tighter as if trying to keep back what wanted to fall from his lips.

Was it more hurtful words or was he holding back something deeper, something more human?

"I never promised fidelity," he said quietly, as if that absolved him because let's face it, Buchanans didn't have to answer to anyone and he'd made that abundantly clear the night at the restaurant.

"Neither did I," she returned boldly, as if she had someone waiting for her to say the word and they'd come running.

But even as preposterous as it sounded, Sutton didn't seem to like it at all. His nostrils flared and his grip on her arms tightened.

She tried not to cry out but she could feel her flesh bruising beneath his grip. "You're hurting me!"

"You belong to me," he told her, his voice like silken steel. "This body belongs to me. Your sweetness is for me alone. Do you understand? The only man between your thighs will be me."

"But the same doesn't apply to you?" she shot back, hating that her belly trembled with unbidden desire, that need coiled deep inside her at the feel of his body pressing down upon hers. "I don't operate that way."

Sutton, for all his cold bluster, seemed torn, almost broken in half.

Was it possible that Sutton felt remorse?

Could it be that he felt something he wasn't ready for?

Before she could press him for answers, his mouth descended on hers and that ravenous hunger that seemed to bloom only for him, raged out of control for them both.

Within moments, he was tugging her yoga pants down to sink between her thighs like a man searching for heaven and when his tongue found her clitoris, she lost the ability to push him away.

He was a man possessed, driving her mercilessly to that brink of inescapable pleasure and then pulling back only to drive her again until she tumbled with a strangled cry straight into oblivion, blanking out with extreme pleasure as carnal bliss temporarily erased all else.

Nothing existed but Sutton and his touch.

He plunged into her, impatient, desperate. His thrusts were manic, and frenzied and it was all she could do but hang on and ride with him.

It was wild and dangerous, passionate and unbridled. This was a side of Sutton she'd only ever caught a glimpse of and it frightened her how much she was drawn to him.

She clung to him, her hands clutching at his back, the sweat beneath her fingertips mirroring the sweat dripping down her sides.

This was madness, this was debilitating in its total annihilation and she couldn't get enough.

"Holy fuck," Sutton gasped, his climax wringing him out like a wet dishcloth in the hands of a barmaid. "Holy...gonna have a heart attack..."

He rolled away from her, flopping onto the floor and remaining there, one hand flung over his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

Tiny pulses rocked her body as she soaked in the bliss of an epic orgasm. For a long moment, they both basked in the uncomplicated nature of pleasure but soon enough the pulses faded and reality intruded.

Sutton slowly rolled to a sitting position, sighing as he pushed his hand through his hair.

There seemed a heaviness between them, something bigger than either were willing to admit and Elizabeth sure as hell wasn't going to be the first.

She didn't know much about love but she knew it changed a person.

And she felt different.

There was something so...enigmatic about Sutton that she couldn't exactly explain why she couldn't refuse him.

Not even when her morals had been on the line.

Hadn't she signed on the dotted line, knowing full well the consequence?

Sure, there was Gretchen to consider but the fact was, she would've found a way.

A part of her had been stubbornly intrigued by Sutton Buchanan, the way he commanded a room, the way he took what he wanted without apology.

She yearned for qualities such as that.

Qualities that had always eluded her in her life.

And now, she was falling for the man who would most certainly break her heart into a million tiny pieces and then feed them to her, one bite at a time, knowing full well, it would kill her.

Was this what a future with a Buchanan looked like? Always wondering who he was fucking when he didn't come home at night?

Cringing when she smelled another woman's perfume clinging to his neck, or worse, his cock?

Stuffing down an ignoble sob, she struggled to her feet and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door shut and leaving Sutton on the other side.

She wasn't surprised when he didn't follow.

But she was devastated when she heard the front door open and close as his footsteps receded down the hallway.

Tears snaked down her cheeks.

_What had you expected, Elizabeth? A declaration of undying love?_

Buchanan's weren't capable of love.

_And you'd known it from the start._

Sutton couldn't stay there a moment longer. Elizabeth's pain cut at him in ways that were unfathomable.

How had this woman wormed her way into his psyche so quickly, so completely?

It was frightening and it threw him off his game. He needed time to regroup. To collect his thoughts and put his head back on straight.

He made his way to the Buchanan mansion and showered in the guest room he'd formerly occupied.

As soon as he'd showered and dressed in fresh clothing, he started to feel somewhat more like himself but a residual sense of loss continued to shadow his steps.

His sister Whitney found him at the bar and he wanted to groan. The house was the size of Manhattan and yet, he still managed to run into one of his family members.

"What are you up to, big brother?" she asked, sliding into the sofa with the languid grace of a ballerina. "I heard you and Reece are stirring things up a bit in the boardroom. You know there are less painful ways of making things interesting."

"I should ask the same, little sister. What mischief has kept you away from the business of making more Buchanan money?"

She waved away his question. "You know I was never one for such things. I don't have the head for it, as father would say."

He frowned. "Father was a misogynist prick and I never took you for one who ever listened to whatever shit fell from his mouth. You're plenty smart enough and you know it."

But Whitney had changed in the past year, turning into a shadow of her former self and he'd yet cracked that code.

Truly, he hadn't tried all that hard but it seemed Whitney was definitely hiding something behind that faint, beautiful smile that never quite reached her eyes.

He poured her a drink and brought it to her, sitting opposite her. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She sipped her brandy.

"I don't know. Frankly, I was surprised you were willing to come and spend some time with the west coast cousins. You were never truly one for the things we used to do. At least not with us."

Sutton wasn't ignorant of the things his wild-child little sister had been rumored to have done but he wasn't one to cast stones either.

Besides, he loved his little sister, even if she drove him crazy and cost the family a bundle with her shopping sprees.

"Well, I thought to spend some time with Laird but it seems he went and found himself a wife." She shrugged. "And maybe I wanted to stick around and see just how attached he was to his new arrangement."

It was no secret he and Laird Teichert weren't friends but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't shocked by _that_ recent turn of events.

It was as if there were something in the water, brainwashing formerly virile, aggressively pleasure-seeking males into docile purse-holders for the women in their lives.

Disgusting, really.

"I wouldn't hang your hopes too high on that," he said, finishing his drink. "Teichert has guzzled the same Kool-Aid as the rest. He's hopelessly pussy-whipped. I never thought I'd see the day..."

Whitney's smile seemed forced, pained even, but she finished her drink with a negligent roll of her shoulder. "His loss. In the meantime, why don't you stop needling the cousins? Two against one is hardly fair."

Sutton gingerly touched his lip. "If Reece hadn't simply watched, it might've been a more evenly matched event," he said dryly.

"Well, Reece has never been much of a fighter. You were foolish to think he might feel compelled to jump in."

"He was the one who'd started it," he grumbled, knowing he sounded like a pansy baby. "Anyway, it's over. I no longer give a shit whether or not Vince and Nolan want to sell or keep the club. As soon as this quarter is over, I'm heading back to New York. Maybe it's time to break off and separate."

"You've been talking about doing that forever but you never pull the trigger."

He scowled. Leave it up to his sister to point out his lack of action. True, he'd been chaffing for some time working with the west coast cousins but there were advantages to it, too.

The connections, the relative ease of business transactions thanks to a ruthless reputation, and the money flowed like a running faucet.

Breaking off would mean dividing holdings, weakening the name, and courting the potential for failure.

It was a risk his father had been loathe to take and now that the reins had been passed onto his siblings, he just didn't know if they were all ready to make it happen.

Still, it was hard to stomach that even as much as it pained him to work with his cousins, they were stronger together than apart.

"The timing has to be right," he said tersely. Jesus, could this day get worse? "For now, it behooves us to remain where we are."

"Then I suspect you'll have to find a way to play nice, brother dear," she pointed out before leaning in and pressing a kiss on his cheek before leaving the room and Sutton to his ill temper.

But honestly, the real reason for his temper had nothing to do with his cousins or the fact that business dealings with them often left him gnashing his teeth.

It had everything to do with Elizabeth.

He could close his eyes and smell her soft blonde hair, feel her plump body cuddled against his...

Could see the heartbreak in her blue eyes.

_Fuck!_

He scrubbed at his eyeballs as if that alone would remove the image burned into his memory but it remained.

Why'd he go into that fucking bar in the first place?

Because he'd been embarrassed to show Elizabeth his messed up face.

The fact was, he'd wanted to go to her and let her tend to him, kiss his wounds, and chastise him for being an idiot.

He was losing his damn mind.

He didn't need coddling from a woman.

He didn't need her kisses or her concern.

He just needed her on her knees, ass up, ready for him when the whim suited him.

_Yeah...keep telling yourself that. Let's see how that works out for you._

# 13

By the third day of total solitude, Elizabeth wondered if Sutton would ever return.

She felt his absence like a cold thing in her heart but she refused to let it rule her and instead turned that angst and pain into a channel for her art.

Her sketchbook was nearly full of dark, sensual sketches that she was ready to commit to canvas but as she was preparing to make a trip to the art supply store, she received a call from Covington Art House.

"Miss Downing, I presume..."

"Yes," she answered, immediately recognizing the effeminate voice of Mr. Polk, the Covington Art House director. "May I help you?"

"You certainly can, my darling. It seems I may have been a bit hasty in my decision. My apologies, of course, but I was having a bit of a day when you came to see me. Would you be so kind as to give me the opportunity of looking at your work a second time?"

Elizabeth knew Sutton had a hand in Polk's sudden reversal but she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity, no matter where it'd originated.

"Of course, I would love to," she said, smiling. "What time is good for you?"

"Whatever you have available. I shall work around your schedule, of course."

Elizabeth shook her head, wryly amused by the change.

Sutton may be accustomed to people bowing and scraping to meet his every need but it was still a little jarring for Elizabeth.

While she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity, a part of her was sad that her art hadn't moved Mr. Polk at their first meeting.

She knew her art was good, but to be honest, Polk had only given her portfolio a cursory glance before deciding it wasn't right for the gallery.

"I'm free today," she said and Polk quickly agreed.

"Excellent. I look forward to see you again, let's say around, noon?"

"I'll be there."

"Very good. Good day, Miss Downing."

And the line clicked off.

Elizabeth sank on the sofa, still processing. A happy smile found her lips even though her heart was still heavy.

Oddly, the person she wanted to share this happy news with was the one person whom she was fairly certain was the devil in disguise.

_Well, that's that_. Elizabeth sighed and rose from the sofa, determined to put one foot in front of the other for her own gain.

If Sutton had taught her anything thus far in their short but heated relationship, it was that you had to grab opportunity where you found it.

And that's exactly what Elizabeth was going to do.

Vince entered Sutton's office, all business and no chitchat, which was typical of Vince these days but after their tussle, it was even more so, which bugged Sutton because they'd once been close.

"Honey is ready to see the club. You available to show it tonight?"

Sutton shrugged. "I suppose."

"Good."

"Is that all?" Sutton asked.

Vince's hard gaze narrowed. "Is there something else?"

"Stop dancing around the issue, Vince. You want me to apologize for insulting your new lifestyle choices and I want you to apologize for fucking punching me in the face. Is that plain enough for you?"

Vince looked ready to throw another punch but he seemed to think better of it and said, "You're right. I'm fucking pissed as hell at you, Sutton. What's gotten into you lately? It's like you wanted me to punch you."

Maybe he was right. He'd been feeling edgy because of the situation with Elizabeth and he'd been gunning for a fight of some sort. Maybe he deserved the punch to the nose.

"Maybe," Sutton conceded with a sigh. "Look, I was out of line but, things have really changed with you guys and I just don't understand."

Vince relaxed and leaned against the doorjamb. "Hell yes, things have changed, man. We grew up, got married, started having kids. Those things change a person and since meeting my wife I've realized that the things I put a heavy value on were really just stupid childish shit."

Sutton held back his groan. More domesticated propaganda.

"Don't you miss getting some strange pussy? You used to be the fucking king, man. Now you're telling me that you don't miss all the wild sex?"

Vince chuckled as if Sutton was clueless and would never get it.

"God willing, you'll understand one day and you'll get it. Until then, you won't and that's okay, just don't shit on my life because you don't understand it. And for your health and safety, don't ever talk about my wife like that again."

Sutton could tell Vince wasn't joking in any way.

"Deal," he said. "For the record, I'm sorry for insulting your wife. She's a great woman and I was just having an off day."

"About that...what's going on with you?'

Should he tell Vince? A part of him wanted to, needed to talk to someone, but for some reason, he kept silent.

Maybe he wasn't ready to hear what Vince would say.

"Just an off day. Nothing more than that," he lied with an easy grin.

Vince motioned to his own face in reference to Sutton's. "Healing up pretty good."

"Yeah."

"Good. All right, Honey is set to meet you at the club at 10 p.m. That work for you?"

Sutton thought of Elizabeth and how he'd love to be cuddled up to her warm, soft body by that time but seeing as he hadn't had the balls to return to the apartment as of yet, he didn't have any plans that would preclude meeting up with Honey.

"Works for me," he agreed with a private sigh.

Vince left and Sutton leaned back in his executive leather chair, remembering quite clearly the first time Elizabeth had walked through his doors. So cute, so vulnerable. Destined to be his.

As if on cue, his cock thickened and he pushed at it with irritation.

_Yeah, so not the time._

Maybe he could text her. And say what?

_Sorry, I hurt your feelings. Sorry, I got a blowjob from a cheap hooker. If it's any consolation, I didn't really enjoy it all that much._

He cringed. Somehow he didn't think sharing that he'd been thinking of Elizabeth the whole time was going to soften the punch.

He was torn by the indignant defensiveness of having to apologize for something he never promised he wouldn't do and the need to soothe the hurt he'd caused by his actions.

It was shitty to say that he never promised her fidelity — only if he was willing to admit that he had feelings for her beyond those that were defined by their contract.

It was supposed to be sex and only sex.

Hot and dirty sex — the kind that made you wonder if you'd ever be the same afterward.

But somehow...it'd became more than that and he wasn't even sure when it'd happened.

Maybe it'd always been that way and his conscious mind hadn't picked up on that until it was too late.

The fact was...he didn't want to let Elizabeth go. Not ever. And that certainly wasn't part of the contract. It wasn't fair to her and he couldn't expect to hold her in chains indefinitely simply to appease this indescribable need he had for her.

The bottom line was he had to figure this out before it drove him insane and he took Elizabeth down with him.

And he had to stop avoiding her.

Tonight, he would sleep in his bed...with Elizabeth.

Like it or not, she was still bound to the terms of his contract and he was going to make her honor them.

Hopefully, sleeping beside him wasn't too terrible an idea.

One way to find out.

# 14

Elizabeth took a deep breath before entering Covington House, her portfolio satchel gripped tightly in her sweaty palms.

Even though she had an inkling that she was a shoe-in thanks to Sutton's influence, she still felt flutters of anxiety.

_Let's do this. If nothing else, trust in your art._

Mr. Polk saw her enter and ushered to her side, immediately fawning all over her, his gaze alight with admiration that hadn't been there before.

"Darling, you look _ahhmazing._ Dressing to impress, I see. Well, it works! I'm suitably impressed! _"_

Elizabeth managed a small, shy smile but inside she was marveling at how a change in wardrobe could change one's opinion of them.

True, she was wearing designer clothes tailor-made for her and doubly-true that she'd been given a crash course on tasteful, flattering make-up application but had she truly changed that much?

Was Polk's surprise, part of his act? Elizabeth had no way of knowing.

"Thank you, Mr. Polk. I appreciate this opportunity to really show you my art."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Polk hurried them into his office and he fluttered into his seat while she took the seat across the desk and opened her portfolio.

On a crazy whim, she included the rough sketches she'd been creating while working out her angst and hurt about Sutton.

Polk actually took the time to regard her artwork, pausing here and there, exclaiming with complimentary comments now and then, but when he got to her sketches, he paused and his practiced flattery stalled so much that she was tempted to snatch them away with an immediate apology.

"Dangerous, passionate," he murmured, flipping through the book with excitement. He looked up, his eyes ablaze. "You my dear, have an exquisite talent. How did I miss this before? Were these sketches in your book the last time we met?"

"No," she admitted, a little embarrassed by how sexual they were. She must've lost her mind thinking to include them today. "It's a new project I'm working on."

"When will they be complete?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered, shocked at his true interest. "I don't even know what to call it. It was just something that sprung from my brain one night."

"Those are the best kind," Polk proclaimed, carefully closing her portfolio. "Darling, I must have these. We will do a gallery showing and it will change the face of art as we know it."

That seemed a little extreme but she'd be lying if she weren't giddy at his enthusiasm.

But then reality set in and she realized she didn't have all the time in the world to just paint.

"I don't know when I'll have them finished," she admitted, her happiness dimming. "I couldn't even give you an estimate. I...have a day job that takes up a lot of my time."

Being Sutton's _beck-and-call-girl_ was a full-time gig.

Polk narrowed his gaze. "Darling, we all make sacrifices for our art. You will deliver these exquisite masterpieces within the month and we will have the gallery showing the month after. It's all set. It's happening. Now it's up to you."

This was her shot.

Sutton had been a no-show for days. What was she supposed to do, sit around twiddling her thumbs waiting for him to finally show his face?

_Screw Sutton._

Why was she going out of her way to consider his convenience when he couldn't even deign to send a text message?

_Talk about a serious dick move._

Elizabeth smiled at Polk and collected her portfolio.

"You will have your art pieces. You can count on me."

"Excellent," Polk said, beaming. "I believe this is the start to a fruitful relationship for us both. Now, go. Work that beautiful mind and create something dangerous, something wonderful."

Emboldened, Elizabeth planned to do exactly that.

And Sutton?

Well, Sutton could just deal with it.

Sutton was antsy, ready to get this meeting over with so he could go to the apartment and see Elizabeth.

It'd been too many days and he was seriously jonesing for a fix. He wasn't in the frame of mind to question his motivation either.

He just wanted to feel her in his arms and bury his face between those soft pillowy breasts so he could get a decent night's sleep.

For all the money in the world, not even the best mattress could compare to the comfort of sleeping beside Elizabeth.

Yeah, more fuel to the argument that there was more involved than just his cock when it came to his feelings toward her.

He walked into Malvagio, assailed by the usual scents and sounds, sex, drugs and throbbing music meant to encourage nakedness, and Sapphire, that sweet little nympho with the powerful suction greeted him with a kiss and a grope.

"Nice to see you, Mr. Buchanan. The usual?" She asked with a bright smile.

The woman had a fabulous body and it was on glorious display tonight.

Her tits were decorated with glittery body paint tonight and he thought it was a nice touch, only his thoughts did stray to Elizabeth as he wondered what his beautiful woman would look like painted like that.

_Get back on point,_ he thought to himself as he nodded to Sapphire. "I'm expecting an important guest. She'll be coming under the alias Sweetpea. When she arrives, please show her to my booth."

"Yes, sir." Sapphire spun around, giving an unobstructed view of the tight cheekini panties barely covering her pert ass.

Sapphire returned a moment later with a gin and tonic on the rocks and he plucked the lime wedge to suck on while he waited.

Maybe if he kept his mouth occupied it would keep him from saying or doing anything that he'd regret later.

Soon enough Honey arrived, wearing a decadent, nearly see-through dress that clung to her subtle curves but made good use of every inch.

It was a powerful play on the senses and he applauded her ability to get a rise out of him nearly instantly.

He rose and accepted air-kisses as was the thing to do in these situations and when Honey practically sat on his lap in the booth, he simply smiled as if he were happy to have her ride his cock if she liked.

_The games we play_...he sighed privately.

"You must be Sutton Buchanan, one of the east coast boys," Honey said with a smile that'd probably seduced many men. "One thing I will say for the Buchanan line...it's filled with fuckable men...and women. Your sister is quite a thing. I wouldn't mind getting a taste of that sweetness. Tell me, is Whitney entertaining women this year?"

He laughed. "As far as I know, Whitney is firmly a fan of sausage and rarely tacos. Though, there was that brief stint in college but then, who doesn't experiment in college, right?"

"Pity." Honey pouted. "The things I've heard...I find her intriguing. I can only imagine what exciting secrets hide behind those Buchanan eyes."

"Yes, well, you'll have to pry them out of my sister because she doesn't exactly share with family."

Honey flashed that brief, seductive smile and then pulled her vape pen, lighting it and filling the air with the faint scent of cinnamon.

"Genius invention, don't you think?" she asked, referencing her pen. "They say it'll kill you faster than cigarettes but at least it doesn't affect the people around you. Fine by me. Die young and leave behind a good looking corpse, am I right?"

He indulged her with a light chuckle, ready to get the meeting over.

Each moment spent away from Elizabeth felt an eternity at this point.

"Would you like a tour?"

Honey's eyes lit up. "I thought you'd never ask. Absolutely."

Sutton offered his arm and Honey took it.

He gave her a VIP tour of every room, even the rooms that were occupied — treating her to a bird's eye view of some of the naughtier aspects of Malvagio — and by the time they returned to the booth, Honey was sold.

Who wouldn't be? Malvagio sold itself to the right person.

"I want it."

"Excellent taste. You won't be disappointed."

He scribbled the asking price onto a piece of paper and pushed it over to her. She read it and then pushed it back with a smile and a nod.

A mere formality, Sutton asked, "Shall I tell my cousins we have a deal?"

"Yes, of course." She nodded and leaned forward. "Now how shall we celebrate?"

"Champagne, we carry the best, of course." He signaled for Sapphire to bring the champagne and a heartbeat later Honey's hand was on his cock. He remained calm, even managing a subtle grin as he pretended ignorance. "Did you have something else in mind?"

"I've heard about this cock of yours. Something else the Buchanan men have in common...big, fat cocks. I'd love to see for myself what all the hype is about."

"And I thought you were firmly a fan of pussy," he returned casually, as if intrigued and flattered, but in truth, he was desperately trying to find a way to respectfully turn her down.

"Darling, it's true I love pussy but I'm willing to try new and exciting rides, especially when they come so highly recommended."

Admittedly, Honey was a beautiful woman but he felt nothing.

Besides, he didn't believe it prudent to fuck around with a potential buyer for a major deal like this one.

"Tempted," he lied easily. "But not tonight. I must respectfully decline. However," he said, when he saw Honey on the verge of being offended. "I would never leave you without something sweet."

He motioned for Sapphire and she bounced over to him with an accommodating smile. "Yes, Mr. Buchanan?"

"Sapphire, do you think you could show Sweetpea a lovely time?"

"I would love to," Sapphire purred, her eyes lighting up as she sank to her knees before Honey. "May I, mistress?"

Honey grinned with delight, Sutton forgotten. "Yes, you may, pretty thing."

And then Sapphire's head was between Honey's legs, lapping up all that sweet juice no doubt dribbling down the soon-to-be-new owner of the most decadent club in town.

And Sutton couldn't wait to get out of there.

All he wanted was Elizabeth.

# 15

Elizabeth fell into bed later that night, exhausted to the point of welcoming a coma when she drowsily heard Sutton entering the apartment around one in the morning.

Even as exhausted as she was, every sense went on high alert, her ears pricking at every sound.

And the anger and hurt that she'd managed to stuff into a deep, dark place, welled to the surface like lava erupting from a sleeping volcano.

She wanted to quip something cutting and hurtful as soon as he entered the bedroom and started undressing but she remained silent.

Maybe he wouldn't realize she was awake and would just climb into bed and go to sleep.

But even that wasn't ideal because now that she was awake she wanted to yell and scream at him and if she didn't, then she might just explode from the tension building inside her.

"I know you're awake," he said with a sigh as if wishing she weren't. "Exactly how long are you going to nurse a grudge?"

A grudge? That's what he thought she was doing? A litany of hot words bubbled to the surface but she kept them back.

He didn't deserve her ire.

He was a pig and she hated him. Well, that was the plan.

As it turned out, she couldn't help spatting, "I don't care enough about you to hold a grudge." And then gave him her back.

"My little spitfire" he murmured with a smile in his voice.

_Oh, no you don't get to call me pet names like you care!_

Elizabeth sat up, pushing her hair out of her face, the cold tone of her voice in direct opposition to the heat in her heart.

"Truly, the last three days have been wonderful without you constantly underfoot. I enjoyed having the bed to myself again. Feel free to take yourself off to whatever rock you've been hiding under because I don't care."

But, oh, damn her heart, she did care.

And either he saw through her act or he didn't give two shits because he climbed into the bed and pulled her to him as if everything were just fine between them.

Although she wanted to remain stiff, the familiar weight of his body against hers was her kryptonite.

Why did it feel so right to be pressed against him? The terrible yearning that'd nearly threatened to eat her alive when he was gone, dissipated like smoke on the breeze as her curves fit so wondrously against the hard planes of his body.

"Just because I like the feel of you against me doesn't mean anything," she wanted him to know. "I still think you're—"

"Shhhh," he said, already dropping off as if he were drugged. Within seconds, he was asleep, the sound of his deep, even breathing giving him away.

How was it he could drop off so easily? Had he no shame? No sense of decency?

For all she knew he'd been out dipping his billionaire wick in whatever hussy opened her legs for him.

Remember?

_He never promised fidelity._

And she'd been too ignorant to demand it as part of the deal. This was a problem of her own making.

She wanted to jab her elbow in his gut and wake him but her own exhaustion had slowly leached away her adrenaline and her eyelids were starting to drag.

Within moments, she was sleeping, too.

And it was the best sleep she'd had in three days.

The following morning Sutton awoke early, dressed and left before Elizabeth woke up.

It was a cowardly move but he wasn't ready to address the questions or the accusations just yet.

Mostly because he didn't have answers.

He didn't know what he was feeling or understand why he felt a strong need to be around Elizabeth but he wasn't willing to go so far as to say he was falling in love.

Love was an illusion. Smoke and mirrors thanks to a complex chemical reaction in the brain.

He craved her body, that was true, but there was so much more to Elizabeth than her banging body.

She was smart — maybe smarter than him — and talented.

And she didn't back down when pushed into a corner.

She didn't beg or cry. She stood up to him when everyone else cowered.

Ah hell, he didn't know why he was obsessed with her but it was only getting worse.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he hooked up with that prostitute— _oh, yeah, now you're really swimming in denial_.

He couldn't even pull off the bullshit in his own mind, so how was he supposed to explain it to Elizabeth?

He was still stewing in his office when he received an unexpected visit from Emma, Vince's wife.

Straightening, he greeted her with a polite smile. "And just like that my day got a whole lot brighter. What do I owe the pleasure?"

Emma, a beautiful woman with blond hair similar to Elizabeth, took a seat opposite him and said, "Vince told me you could use a woman's perspective on things."

_Damn you, Vince._

Sutton held his smile. "Oh? I can always use a woman's perspective but help me out, what am I needing perspective on?"

"Not sure but I'm assuming that you're probably struggling with that damn stubborn Buchanan DNA and getting in your own way. You and Vince used to be pretty close, right?"

He nodded, wondering where this was going.

"And from what I can tell, you're a bit alike. So, seeing as I'm married to Vince, and when I met him he was more like you, I might be able to add some insight as to what's going on with you."

"I didn't realize there was something so obviously amiss," he drawled, a bit uncomfortable that Emma had hit a nerve.

"Of course not, because you're in your own way. So...what's her name?"

Sutton hesitated. He wasn't ready to introduce Elizabeth to the family but with Emma there, waiting with an expectant expression, as if saying, she wasn't going to leave until he gave up the goods, he relented out of sheer self-preservation.

The Buchanan wives were...tenacious to say the least.

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," she murmured, testing the name. "Very nice. You like her?"

"To run the risk of sounding indelicate...where's this going?'

Emma ignored his pointed question, instead saying, "When Vince first started having feelings for me, it wasn't pretty. It wasn't flowers and dinner dates, it was...well, he was caring for me because I'd been assaulted at Malvagio and he couldn't risk too many questions. What started out as self-preservation turned into something else, for us both, but I can tell you, neither of us were open to it and it happened anyway."

"Sounds frightful."

She laughed. "At the time, it totally was, but now? We're both happier than we ever imagined we could be."

"A truly beautiful story," he said politely.

"You're so much like Vince," Emma said, shaking her head with amusement. "Okay, here's the deal: stop torturing yourself over some ingrained screwed up belief system and just accept that you have feelings for Elizabeth."

"Just say for arguments sake, I do. Then what? Trust me, there is no happily-ever-after for us."

"Only if you keep it that way. Love has a funny way of fixing things that you thought were broken."

He snorted.

"Adorable but unrealistic. The fact is...a part of her hates me and rightly so."

He hadn't meant to share that. But seeing as he was already drowning, he might as well tie cement blocks to his feet.

"The fact is...I own her. I purchased the right to her body by forcing her hand. Trust me, there will be no love in her heart for me and I would question any woman who would after what I've done."

But Emma wasn't shocked. Hell, she barely batted an eye.

In fact, she looked... _bored_?

"Ugh. The Buchanan contract. Well, maybe you ought to talk to Penny about that and see how well that worked out. I mean, it worked out for me because she ended up with Dillon instead of either of the twins but honestly, it's a stupid, arrogant way to start a relationship and cowardly, too."

"Cowardly? I don't follow."

"Because when you go out on a date with someone, you're putting yourself out there for possible rejection. By throwing money at someone, you're saying you don't have the confidence it takes to risk being turned down. And I just don't understand where that insecurity comes from. I mean, I know Vince's dad was a real prick and I can only guess that yours was too, seeing as they were brothers, but can you really not handle the idea of approaching a woman you find attractive on your own merits?"

Sutton didn't know what to say but it seemed Emma wasn't finished.

"Have you tried _dating_ Elizabeth? Maybe taking an interest in something she enjoys?"

He stiffened. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

"Then you better be prepared to lose her to someone else. If you're okay with that, then keep on the same course, but if not...then you'd better start doing things differently. A woman's heart is only so forgiving."

Emma rose with a sigh. "Well, I've done my part. If you're too stubborn to listen, that's on you. I hope it works out though. I suspect beneath all that Buchanan bullshit, there's a decent guy buried. I'd like to get to know _him_ but this guy," she motioned dismissively to the entirety of Sutton "is a douchebag and I don't have time in my life for that. Good luck, Sutton."

And then she let herself out.

Well, hell.

He'd just been schooled.

An unexpected smile tugged at his lips.

Vince had landed himself one helluva woman, but then, his cousin already knew that because he'd married her.

So where did that leave Sutton?

According to Emma — somewhere between _potential good guy_ and _forever douchebag_.

Hmmm...not much of a choice was it?

# 16

Elizabeth was blissfully lost in her painting for the gallery show when a knock at the door interrupted her creation.

She thought to ignore it but when the knocker seemed intent on gaining entrance, she sighed grumpily and went to the door.

A very handsome, boyishly devilish — and quite obviously a Buchanan — stood there with the most exquisite flowers she'd ever seen.

"Um. Hello?" She ventured, not sure what to think. "Who are you?"

"I'm Reece...and you must be...the lovely woman taking up all my big brother's time. May I?"

Elizabeth glanced down at her paint splattered overhauls and the tiny tube top she was wearing underneath that barely covered her breasts and didn't know how to react.

She didn't want to be rude to Sutton's brother but...what would Sutton think about her spending time with his family?

He hadn't seemed keen on introducing her, for obvious reasons and she didn't think anything had changed in that department.

But Reece seemed harmless enough and nice, even. And besides, Sutton was a jerk so who cared what he thought.

Reece, as if suddenly remembering, handed her the flowers. "These are for you. I hope you like exotics. I think they lend a certain something, don't you?"

Elizabeth accepted the beautiful blooms with undisguised pleasure. No one had ever brought her flowers before. "My name is Elizabeth, pleased to meet you. Come on in."

Reece took a quick glance around the apartment.

"A little cramped isn't it?" he remarked, though it didn't seem insulting, just an observation.

"Oh, it's much bigger than my last place. And nicer, too," she couldn't help but add. "I like the neighborhood here and it's within walking distance to Kerr park. I like to sketch there sometimes."

"Ahhh, yes, an artist. Let us get acquainted. I bet we have much in common."

She liked Reece almost immediately and it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he'd brought her flowers when Sutton had never done anything quite so chivalrous.

Buying her an entire wardrobe didn't count because he'd done it for selfish reasons, she countered in her head.

"So did Sutton ask you to come and keep me company?" she asked, trying not to search for small kindnesses in Sutton's inexplicable behavior.

"God no. Sutton is oblivious to most things, including me. But I, on the other hand, notice a great many things, such as when he decides to move out of the west coast cousins' place and seek out a place of his own that's separate from any of the multiple holdings we own throughout this city. Makes a man go, hmmmm, doesn't it? So then, I figured, he must want some sort of privacy, something off books. And because I'm bored most days, seeking out the truth of my brother's secret seemed a worthwhile endeavor and here I am, sitting and chatting with a most intriguing woman."

"Well, told like that, it does seem intriguing," she murmured, though a tingle of apprehension threatened to ruin their light banter.

What if Reece already knew about her arrangement with Sutton and he was coming to get a taste?

"So, are you and Sutton close?"

"Close is a relative term," he answered, sinking into the sofa while she put the flowers into water. "How did you meet, exactly?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, not sure what she should share. Of all the things she thought she might think today, wishing Sutton here there was not one of them!

But she didn't know what to think about this visit with Reece.

He was, admittedly, very handsome, charming, and probably used to getting his own way just like Sutton, but what did he want with her?

But Reece seemed to sense her apprehension and said, "Don't answer if you don't want to. I'm just a nosey shit most days. Frankly, I'm jealous. My brother always seems to find the prettiest, most unusual gems for himself. I dabble in art, myself. You can't possibly have that in common with my brother; Sutton wouldn't know a Picasso from a Rembrandt."

She laughed. That much was true.

"Yes, but would you believe we met at an art gallery?"

"Ahhh, let me guess, Covington House?"

"Yes. How'd you know?"

"Because Buchanan Enterprises recently acquired the art house — tax shelter if we're being honest — and Sutton had drawn the short straw. I volunteered to take it but Sutton, for whatever reasons, had decided to keep it. Fate is funny that way, isn't it?"

Elizabeth nodded, letting that information sink in.

If Reece had been the one in the gallery that day, how would things have turned out differently?

"But that's my brother, the luckiest bastard in the bunch," Reece said with a sigh. Then he brightened and asked, "Would you permit me to see what you're working on?

Elizabeth hesitated, never being one to openly allow strangers to look at works in progress.

"I promise to be complimentary," Reece said with a charming smile.

There was something so easy-going and nice about Reece that she relented with a warning, "It's a work in progress, so please keep that in mind."

"No judgment," he promised with adorable cuteness and she relaxed. Why couldn't Sutton be more like Reece?

She took him into the spare room where Sutton had set up an art space for her and walked to her canvas.

Just seeing it again gave her goosebumps.

It was her favorite — wonderfully wild and out of character — art piece yet.

To her delight, Reece was immediately drawn. "This is spectacular! I must buy it. I want it now. When will it be finished?"

"It's not ready," she laughed. "And I can't sell it yet. I'm having a gallery showing. You can buy it then."

"Then I will," he announced with a grin. "You are a rare talent indeed. Truly wasted on my blockhead brother though. He has no eye for true art."

Was Reece flirting with her?

She couldn't quite tell and she was so backward when it came to the social dance between men and women that she didn't even know how to ascertain if he was flirting or just being nice.

So she just blurted out, "Are you flirting with me?" and Reece laughed as if she were too cute for words. Admitting sheepishly, "I mean, I can't really tell."

"And if I were?" Reece asked, his voice dipping into seriously sexy territory but it made her feel weird. Did she owe some kind of loyalty to Sutton after he'd plainly said he didn't owe her fidelity of any sort?

Elizabeth offered up a small, unsure laugh. "Then I should warn you, I'm not very good at that thing."

"And if I said, I like that about you?"

"Then...I don' know what I'd say to that."

Elizabeth should've been affronted his obvious forward nature but to be honest, it felt nice to have someone share a common interest as well as find her attractive.

And Reece was quite good-looking.

Were all the Buchanans insanely handsome? Surely that wasn't fair in the big scheme of things. Where was the balance in the world?

Reece started to lean forward and she realized with a flutter in her heart that he meant to kiss her!

_Oh! What the hell?_

But just as their lips were about to touch, a voice at the doorway made her heart alternately leap for joy and freeze at the same time.

"Brother, if you value your fucking face, you'll get your fucking lips off my woman."

Of all the things he never expected to see...Elizabeth laughing and joking and about to kiss his little fucking brother!

The rage coursing through his veins was hard to contain. It took everything in him to remain calm on the surface when he wanted to punch Reece in the throat.

Elizabeth was his.

Although sharing had never bothered him before, it made Sutton see red to think that someone else might want to enjoy his sweet peach.

Particularly his fucking little brother.

_The little sneaky prick._

"Sutton," Elizabeth's surprised gasp kept him from tossing Reece out on his ear. Instead he lounged against the doorjamb as if cool as a cucumber. "When did you get here?"

"Apparently just in time," he retorted, shooting Reece a cool look but the little shit never took anything seriously and just laughed off Sutton's ire.

"Is it my fault you leave your toys unattended?" Reece said with a shrug. "Besides, you know I can't abide a mystery."

"And I can't abide anyone pissing on my territory."

Sutton caught the indignation on Elizabeth's beautiful face and he knew she wanted to say a few words but wisely remained silent.

She didn't want to reveal the nature of their relationship, which was just as well, it was bad enough that Emma knew.

"You never did appreciate what was right in front of you, why start now?" Reece said with a smirk. He turned to Elizabeth, kissing her hand. "Until we meet again..."

Elizabeth seemed uncertain as to how to react, which was exactly what Reece wanted. The man loved to keep people guessing. It was his particular little game, a childish one at that.

Sutton practically shoved Reece out the door and said, "Don't ever fucking try that again. She's _mine_."

Reece laughed and rubbed at his shoulder where Sutton had pushed him.

"All right, you made your point. When you're done with her, send her my way. Unlike you, I can actually appreciate her talents outside of the bedroom."

Sutton slammed the door in Reece's face then stalked to Elizabeth, trying not to drink in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.

She seemed to blossom more each day.

That tube top was barely holding in her tits, which made him want to pull it down and suck on each pale, pink nipple until she was panting and writhing in his arms but judging by the look on her face — that wasn't going to happen organically.

He could order her to her knees and command her to suck him off but that wouldn't make things better between them. If anything, it would make them worse.

His gaze flicked to her art easel and saw the half-finished painting.

He instantly recognized where she'd gotten her inspiration and his gaze returned to her with an ironic grin that sent the color climbing her cheeks.

"An artist never knows when the muse is going to strike," she said defensively as she stalked past him, leaving him behind.

Sutton followed. "Do you prefer my brother over me?" he asked, deceptively calm.

"Maybe. He's very sweet and it was a nice change to talk with someone with a common interest," she answered over her shoulder. "Does that bother you?"

"Of course not," he lied, trying not to clench his fists. "You're free to pursue whomever you like once your contract is up."

"Which is when?" she asked, turning to face him.

_NEVER_. "When I tire of you."

She blinked and her eyes brightened with tears. "You're a jerk."

"I know."

Emma's advice was ringing in his head like a fucking gong but he couldn't get his mouth to stop spewing bullshit long enough to put some of it into play.

Agitated beyond belief, he stalked to the bar. He needed to think, to figure things out. For good measure, Sutton poured a drink for Elizabeth, too.

"I don't want a drink," she said as he put it into her hand.

"Yes, you do. We both need to take a moment and just chill out," he said, taking a restorative drink of his scotch.

He motioned for Elizabeth to do the same and she reluctantly took a tiny sip.

"Oh!" Her face flushed. "That's...yuck. How do you drink this stuff?"

Sutton forgot that scotch was an acquired taste.

He chuckled. "Down the hatch and you're done."

Elizabeth huffed an annoyed sigh but downed the scotch, gasping at the end.

"Don't ever make me drink that again."

"Deal." No sense in wasting good scotch. "Sit with me."

She eyed him warily. "And if I say no?"

"Please?"

Elizabeth, surprised by his uncharacteristic plea, slowly joined him on the sofa.

Pleased —and relieved — he tried not to screw up the moment. "I want to know more about you."

Surprised and a bit wary, she didn't immediately start spilling her guts. Not that he expected her to, but they had to start somewhere and he was flailing about like a drowning child.

"Favorite color? Favorite food? Pet peeves?" he prompted, almost desperately.

But she wasn't interested in playing this game.

"Why?" she asked, shaking her head, confused. "I don't understand why you suddenly want to know those things about me when...you plainly don't care about me and you were honest about that from the start."

Frustration welled inside him. Why was she making this so difficult? He wanted to know more about her because...it pleased him to know!

If only it were that simple. He bit his tongue from spilling something he regretted.

"Just because we have an unorthodox relationship doesn't mean it has to be adversarial, does it?"

"So your questions are based on creating a pleasant work environment?"

The faint touch of bitterness in her tone cut at him in a way he was unprepared.

"If that's the way you'd like to frame it in your mind," he replied stiffly. "I'm just trying to ease the tension between us."

She popped from the sofa, her eyes wet.

"The reason there's tension is because you..." her mouth seamed shut but she looked ready to burst with emotion. Finally, she gave a short, frustrated cry and bounded from the room, saying, "You're an asshole!"

The sound of a slamming door was his reward for trying to smooth things over.

With a sigh, he rose and poured himself another drink.

Things were not going to plan.

Not at all.

Something told him, it was going to be a while before he got anything sweet from his little pissed-off peach.

# 17

The nerve! The unmitigated gall!

To act as if having a little chit-chat about nothing stuff was going to erase the horrible thing he'd done.

Elizabeth paced the bedroom, her rage and anguish almost indistinguishable.

Sutton was accustomed to walking all over people but she wouldn't allow him to walk on her.

He may have bought her body but he'd never get her heart because she wasn't that stupid.

_Sure. Good idea._

Except...she had a terrible feeling...that Sutton already had his hooks into her tender flesh and she couldn't quite understand why!

He'd bought her flesh. Taken her virginity.

And now, he was putting her heart into a blender so he could drink it at his leisure like a protein shake!

Fuck. That.

No, she wasn't going to swallow her rage, her hurt. He was going to hear it and if he dumped her and threatened to toss her on the street as well as demand a refund (could he do that?) then so be it.

Flinging the door open, she stalked from the bedroom to stare Sutton down.

Well, he was much taller than her, so she was actually looking _up_ at him, but the point was made.

She was pissed and he was going to hear about it.

"You hurt me," she said, point blank. When he started to speak, she overrode him. "Yes, you _own_ my body. You never _promised_ fidelity, blah, blah, blah, but the point is, you never said that you'd hurt me like that. If you don't have the common decency inherent to most people then I don't think I can do this anymore and you can threaten me all you want but it's not going to change who I am deep inside. I can't give you my body without giving you something else, even if I don't want to and trust me, I wish I could because giving you anything of value, such as my heart, is practically suicide and I know it."

"What kind of relationship did you think you were signing up for?" he shot back, downing his scotch. "Did you think I was going to fall head over heels for you and pledge my undying love just because you're fun to fuck around with?"

"No! But I didn't expect you to demand EVERYTHING from me and give so little of yourself in return!"

"Well, that's your fault for not reading the fine print," he said with a tone so cold she shivered. He slammed his glass down, startling her with the sharp motion. "The fact is, I do own you and if you don't like the terms, you should've thought of that before you signed on the dotted line. And before you even think of reneging on your contract, know this... _Buchanans never lose_. I will crush you, my sweet girl. So think twice before you make a decision that you can't take back."

Her eyes welled with tears.

"So that's your solution? More threats? What the fuck is wrong with you that you think you can treat human beings like this?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you that you can't fucking understand what you agreed to?" He shouted as he grabbed her hard by both arms. "You belong to me and as such, your feelings on how I conduct my business, are not my concern! If I want to fuck other women, I can! And I don't need your permission!"

"I hate you," Elizabeth sobbed, her heart breaking into a million pieces at the obvious lack of concern for her feelings. He truly didn't care. He only wanted her body. It was her own fault for having any feelings at all for him. "I fucking hate you!"

He released her. "Good. Makes things easier that way, doesn't it?"

And then he pushed her toward the bedroom, already unbuckling his trousers and she stared in disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Exactly what I want to. On your knees."

Her lip trembled. "No."

"Elizabeth..." he warned but she held her ground.

"If you make me, I'll hate you forever."

"I thought I'd already achieved that," he mocked.

"Don't." Tears tracked down her cheeks but she didn't waver. He'd never forced her before. If he crossed that line, she'd leave no matter what the consequence. She and Gretchen would live in her car if need be, but she wouldn't stomach his touch another minute if he forced her.

There was a line and Sutton was dangerously close to crossing it.

A long moment, heavy with tension, squatted between them, filling the space until it was thick enough to touch.

Something flitted through Sutton's expression that was almost too shocking to admit — it looked a lot like pain — but it was gone in an instant.

And so was Sutton.

"You're fucking more work than you're worth," he muttered as he grabbed his keys and bailed from the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Elizabeth released a shaky breath, so relieved he was gone.

_Thank you, lord._

The ugly truth was she could possibly forgive him for "cheating" on her but she could never forgive him forcing her sexually.

And the fact that she wasn't packing her bags this very instance told her she was far more invested in Sutton than she wanted to let on.

The fact that Sutton ran out before doing something he couldn't take back — said far more.

Fuck! What the hell just happened?

His intentions had been twisted into junk like a car dropped into a giant trash compactor.

Hadn't he planned to be nice?

To actually woo her like a decent human being?

Yes. But then he'd seen her laughing and flirting — and almost KISSING — his little brother and something had snapped inside him. He'd wanted to hurt her because seeing her with Reece like that had hurt him!

How had things gotten so bad, so fast?

So much for following Emma's advice. Maybe he wasn't cut out for things like...true human connections.

Emma had said he and Vince were alike and yet Vince had found a good woman and somehow convinced her to be his wife.

_Whoa. Apples to oranges._

He didn't want a wife. He wanted an obedient, sweet, sex slave.

Right?

Hell, he didn't know anymore.

Frustration welled up inside him.

Yes, he wanted that but he wanted so much more.

He wanted Elizabeth eager and willing to suck his cock, to prance around in a slutty costume for his pleasure, to smile sweetly and present her luscious ass when he wanted to stick his cock in it!

He wanted to have intelligent conversations with her about current events, the fucking weather, even her damn art!

Sutton felt trapped in a box of his own making.

Was it too much to ask to expect Elizabeth to want the same?

The part that made him sick to his stomach was the sinking feeling that he might've had that with Elizabeth if he hadn't been a total ass.

Fresh anger pounded away the inexplicable pain that seemed to dog him whenever he thought of Elizabeth's tears and how he'd hurt her.

To prove the point to himself, he thought of finding Gemini to let off some steam but when the idea made him physically ill, he wanted to punch something.

What had that woman done to him? Elizabeth had wormed her way into his every thought and he didn't know what to do about it.

He wanted Elizabeth to smile at him the way she'd smiled at Reece — freely, without reservation — the way she laughed at his stupid little jokes.

Her eyes had lit up as they'd talked about art.

The art that'd been inspired by their visit to Malvagio.

Sutton wanted that light to shine his way.

That inspiration belonged to him!

It'd been HIS hand on her pussy as she'd watched that couple fuck. It'd been HIS finger inside her as she'd writhed against him. It'd been HIS name she'd cried out as she came.

He wanted HIS Elizabeth back.

Scrubbing at his face, he realized just how royally he'd fucked everything up.

The way to getting Elizabeth back wasn't with threats or coercion.

He had to do something he'd never done before.

He had to allow himself to care about someone more than he cared about himself.

_Okay, great._

And, exactly how does one do that?

He doubted there was a manual on how to become less of an asshole.

_So ask Vince._

Oh, hell no. He'd figure things out on his own. His cousin wasn't the love guru. Besides, if Vince could figure it out, he certainly could.

Sutton drew a deep breath and blew it out.

So the first step seemed the hardest.

Apologize.

Even the word made him shudder.

But he supposed that was a good start.

Yeah, but what was he apologizing for, exactly?

That was a loaded question.

A part of him wasn't ready to acknowledge that he'd done anything wrong.

He hadn't promised—

Hell, he could ride that useless train all day and it would still take him to nowhere.

Time for action.

He might crash and burn but he had to try.

Grabbing his phone he called the first florist he searched.

"I want the biggest, the best, the most expensive arrangement you have and I want it delivered within the hour."

# 18

Elizabeth stared at the flowers, dumbfounded. There was no card but she knew they were from Sutton.

The flowers dwarfed what Reece had brought her.

Confused, she simply stared at the beautiful blooms, unable to allow herself to hope that Sutton meant the flowers as an apology.

But an apology for what, exactly? Was he remorseful for his behavior or his actions? Maybe both?

Or was she naive to think that Sutton was doing anything more than just trying to win her over with expensive gifts so she'd stop giving him grief and return to being his willing sex pigeon, content to just be whatever he wanted her to be.

If she took the flowers at face value, she was naive.

If she eyed the flowers with suspicion, she was a cynic.

Neither were a great option.

Her gaze lingered on the vibrant bouquet. They were quite beautiful, that much was true.

Her cell phone dinged with a text message.

It was Sutton.

_A car will come for you at 6 p.m. Dress comfortably._

A dismal frown found her as sharp disappointment threatened to skewer her.

He wanted her to pretend all was well. As breathtaking as the flowers were, they meant nothing.

Did she refuse? Tell him to kiss off? To shove his flowers up his butt?

No, that wasn't fair to the flowers.

She would go. What else could she do? For all of her brave words, Gretchen needed her. Was it Sutton's fault that she'd somehow let him into her heart? Maybe that was what hurt the most — she'd let herself down by allowing him to hurt her.

This was, and still remained, a business arrangement.

A painful reminder, but a reminder, nonetheless.

Showering and dressing, she climbed into the car and wondered where it was taking her.

When it pulled up to the airport, veering off to a private strip where a small, elegant plane awaited, she nearly swallowed her tongue.

The chauffeur opened her door and she stepped out in shock as Sutton descended the short stairs to help her.

"What is this?"

"This is a plane," he answered with a small grin.

"I know it's a plane...I mean...what's happening?"

He graced her with another smile and she had to admit, his smile did terrible things to her resolve to remain aloof. Sutton, when he tried, was very charming.

They settled into the luxurious leather seats of the private plane and she couldn't help the wide-eyed wonder of everything around her. The truth was, she'd never flown economy-style, much less ultra-first-class.

And she was a little nervous.

Champagne appeared courtesy of a sharply dressed male steward, which she eagerly sucked down.

"First time flying?" Sutton surmised and she jerked a short nod. He chuckled. "Seems I'm many of your firsts."

She shot him a look. Not funny.

"Too soon?"

"Much."

Sutton appeared appropriately chastised, which she took as a promising sign and returned to her window, amazed by how quickly they were taking to the air. "Where are we going?" she asked, once they were in flight.

"Spain."

" _S-spain_?" the word escaped in a puff of shock. "I...what?"

Sutton, his mouth warming with another smile. "Surprised?"

"Uh, yeah. That's an understatement. I didn't bring any clothes!"

"I shall buy you a new wardrobe if you like. We're going somewhere specific. Someplace I think you'll enjoy."

An intrigued smile found her lips. "And where is that?"

"I'm sure you've heard of The Prado in Madrid."

One of the ten most amazing museums in the world? "You mean, the museum that houses the Spanish royal family's commissioned art throughout the centuries? Ahh, yes, I've heard of it! Dreamed of it!" Elizabeth forgot everything else and just tried to catch her breath as her heart sped up with wonder and amazement. He had to be pulling her leg. People just didn't hop in a plane for Europe! "Are you serious? We are going to The Prado?"

He laughed, pleased. "Yes. Every artist should visit where fine art resides. If you like, we shall visit them all."

Oh, Lord. He was serious. Deliriously happy tears flooded her eyes. This was better than flowers. Better than chocolate. She jerked a nod, as she tried to hold back the flood. "Yes!" Her mind was babbling and her mouth hadn't quite caught up. All she could manage were single syllable sounds that didn't sound coherent at all but Sutton didn't seem to mind. If anything he seemed to swell with pride that he'd rendered her mostly speechless.

"Good." He motioned to the steward, saying, "I hope you don't mind dinner on the plane. It's a long flight. We shall arrive sometime in the morning."

Dinner? Oh, right. Who cared about food? But her stomach grumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten lunch after all the turmoil had gone down. "I'd be fine with a sandwich of some sort."

"Well, the chef might take exception to that request seeing as he's prepared a five-star meal for us tonight," Sutton said.

Her cheeks flamed. "Oh! I'm so sorry...I'm fine with whatever...I'm sure it's going to be delicious," she assured the steward apologetically. She shot a look at Sutton with embarrassment. "I'm not accustomed to this kind of thing. I thought all you get on a plane was peanuts and water with all the budget cuts out there."

"Not on this plane."

She giggled, unable to help herself. "Membership has its privileges," she murmured.

"Indeed."

Elizabeth settled into her chair, sliding her palms down the cream-colored leather with open appreciation and sighed, unable to believe Sutton was taking her to Spain.

Of all the wild, incredibly unexpected things to do...

A smart girl would just accept the kindness and delight in the experience but now that the shock had begun to ebb, she was left with questions.

She couldn't keep her gaze from drifting to him with a question. "So...why are you doing this?"

Sutton stared — that inexplicably beautiful face of his burning into her memory as the moment stretched between them — finally answered with a shrug, "Because it pleased me."

And Elizabeth felt the tiniest pinch of disappointment. No declaration of any sort. No apology.

Just...yeah.

It pleased him.

Welcome to the world of the billionaire, right?

Sutton did nothing that didn't, at its core level, please him.

Had she expected anything else?

Maybe that was the crux of it — she wanted more.

More than he was willing to give.

They touched down at the Madrid Barajas Airport after twelve hours and a car shuttled them to the hotel so they could freshen up.

While Elizabeth showered, Sutton had Chantal send over some comparable designer outfits for Elizabeth so they were ready for her when she finished.

Elizabeth, towel wrapped around her body, exclaimed at the beautiful clothes awaiting her, her eyes glowing.

"This is gorgeous," she said, lifting the gauzy dress that he could only imagine would look clinging to her bountiful curves.

He particularly enjoyed the generously cut neckline, which plunged at her cleavage.

"Chantal was good enough to include accessories and shoes," he pointed out and Elizabeth made a tiny little sound of excitement as she lifted the strappy sandals. "As always, Chantal has excellent taste."

"That woman is a freaking genius," Elizabeth murmured. "I never enjoyed clothes shopping until she showed me how much fun it could be to find cuts that flatter instead of embarrass."

Unable to stop himself, Sutton came forward and nibbled a trail along the damp skin of her neck. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about...ever."

Elizabeth shivered and sank against him, her soft curves pressing against him in all the right ways. "When you say things like that...I almost believe you mean them," she murmured.

"I always mean what I say," he said, removing the towel so he could fill his hands with her tits. "And you have the best breasts of any woman I've ever known."

She moaned as he gently squeezed, pushing his rock-hard erection against the cleft of her behind.

"This is what you do to me," he said softly against the shell of her ear. "You undo me. Every time."

Those tiny gasps were like jet fuel to his ever-smoldering need for her.

He wanted to taste her. Wanted to devour every little moan and gasp. He wanted her smiles, her laughter. Her groans and cries.

He wanted it all.

Every damn bit.

His touch became more urgent but he was fighting a war within himself.

He'd brought her to Spain to atone for the shitty things he'd said to her. The awful, terrible way he'd treated her. But he couldn't get the words past his lips.

All he could do was show her that he wanted her to have the best. He didn't want to put labels on what he felt.

Didn't want to break apart and analyze the why of it.

He just wanted.

The yearning in his soul matched the hungry beat of his heart when he looked at Elizabeth.

He wanted to throw her down and plunge deep inside, burying himself until he no longer knew where he stopped and she began.

Somehow by the grace of God, he managed to still his roving hands, pulling away with a barely contained shudder of sharp disappointment.

Now was not the time.

In a way, he felt he hadn't yet earned the right to touch, which was ridiculous but he couldn't stop picturing her crestfallen expression from the other night.

He'd been a fucking asshole. If only he could bring himself to actually admit that out loud.

Elizabeth turned, her lovely blue eyes hazed with desire. "Sutton?"

He brushed a soft kiss across her lips, forcing a light smile. "We must be off. The museum director is giving us a personal tour and we shouldn't be late."

Immediately her eyes lit up and she smiled. "Oh! Good point. Yes, let's go. I can't believe this." Her little squeal of happiness sent a ricochet of joy through his insides. "I've always dreamed of traveling to Europe to see for myself the art masterpieces throughout the ages but I honestly, never, ever expected that I'd be able to do it. This is amazing."

She shocked him by rising on her tiptoes and pressing a hearty kiss on his mouth, her grin contagious.

In all his life he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Truthfully...he didn't think anything would ever compare to Elizabeth's radiant loveliness.

Not even the world's most celebrated art collections.

# 19

Elizabeth was lost in the exquisite exhibition of select Picasso's on display when Sutton came up behind her, sliding his hands along her waist and drawing her close.

She relaxed against him, smiling. "It's brilliant," she said with a subtle shake of her head. "It's not my style but you can't help but marvel at the artistry."

"If you say so. I've never been much of a fan," he said with a faint chuckle. "What do you like about it?"

"Art is supposed to evoke an emotion, something powerful welling up inside you...when I look at the art collections of the masters, I feel swamped by the beauty and the perfection of the medium. Sometimes it makes me cry."

"So you're saying art should be more than just pretty on the walls?" he teased and she turned to swat at him. He dipped his head down to whisper against her ear. "I rather liked that new piece you were working on. Very sensual."

Elizabeth smiled with secret happiness but couldn't help the saucy quip, "So did your brother. He wants to buy it when it goes on display at Covington House."

Sutton released her and she turned to face him, not surprised to see the scowl.

Was that jealousy? Was it possible?

She decided to diffuse whatever false idea Sutton had brewing, rising to bravely kiss him of her own accord. "You're cute when you look like you want to rip someone's head off."

"Are you attracted to Reece?"

"That's a dumb question. Of course not. But he's very charming — just like you can be when you want to be."

That seemed to mollify him and she slipped her hand into his. "Come on, I want to see the Bartolomé Bermejo collection. You'll like it; it's very dour and there's even some naked breasts."

"Sounds like my kind of art," he said, finally breaking a smile.

As they walked, Elizabeth decided to be honest.

"I really love that you brought me all the way to Spain. No one has ever done anything so extravagantly kind. It's been my dream to see all the great art of the world and you made that possible."

He seemed to swell with pride at her admission but he simply squeezed her hand, as if he didn't trust himself to talk at that moment.

"Careful," she warned him, causing him to do a double-take. "If you keep acting like a decent human being, I might get the wrong idea about you."

"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" he replied with a small twist of his lips.

She laughed, enjoying the easy banter between them.

They had a connection, that much was undeniable and it didn't matter how or why they'd initially come together — the fact was, they meshed together very well and she was beginning to crave his touch like no other.

Elizabeth smothered the chuckle at the irony. Who cared how they'd come together?

She was in Spain with an insanely hot guy who couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Had she ever in her life felt so cherished, so desired?

Easy answer — no.

Did it matter that he'd bought her for an ungodly sum?

Well...a part of her still cringed. But it was becoming a smaller and infinitely less important detail in her mind.

Especially when he was smiling at her with his mouth and devouring her with his gaze.

Yeah, that was powerful stuff.

By the end of the day, Elizabeth was exhausted and her feet hurt from walking what felt like a million miles but the smile on her face was almost permanent.

They walked into their sumptuous hotel room and she went straight for the bed, flopping onto the bath with a happy groan.

Sutton laughed and detoured for the bathroom. Several moments later, she heard water running in the huge bathtub. She smiled, knowing what was coming.

Soon enough the water was ready and Sutton was there to help her undress.

She shivered, biting her lip with anticipation. If there was one thing Sutton excelled in, it was making her wet with simply one touch.

Standing bare before him, she closed her eyes as he sank to his knees, his face right at the apex of her thighs.

His hands gripped her hips and drew her close. He inhaled the fragrance of her womanhood and his groan of pure desire caused her to tremble.

"My Elizabeth..." he murmured, sinking his tongue between her folds, seeking her pleasure button with unerring accuracy.

Her knees wobbled as he mercilessly drove her to a quick orgasm and when she came, she nearly crumpled to the floor if it weren't for Sutton quickly being there.

"Whoa there," he said, grinning. "Now that's quite a stroke to my ego."

"As if you need one," she countered breathlessly through a smile. "God, you're pretty good with that tongue."

"Always nice to hear," he said, grasping her hand and pulling her to the bathroom where they climbed into the marble tub together.

Elizabeth settled against him, smiling to herself when she felt his erection digging into her back. Was it terrible that she loved teasing him? Loved knowing that she had this power?

Maybe, but she wasn't going to feel bad.

She'd spent her entire life feeling second best to every girl out there with a perfect figure who seemed to have everything at her fingertips.

There was no way she was going to give up this amazing feeling, even if it were built on a superficial foundation.

Maybe it was stupid but Elizabeth didn't care. She was drowning in delicious happiness and not going to apologize for enjoying it.

Elizabeth hesitated, deciding to delve into the mystery known as Sutton Buchanan. She knew his body but almost nothing of his mind or past.

"Tell me about your family," Elizabeth said as Sutton lazily swirled the water around her breasts.

He sighed and said, "Well, you've already met Reece. He's the typical middle child — doesn't take anything serious, ever — and then there's my baby sister Whitney."

Sutton had a sister? "What's she like?"

He shrugged. "Wild. Unpredictable. A little self-destructive at times."

"Sounds like a train wreck," Elizabeth murmured with a frown. "Does she know about me?"

"By now? Probably. Reece couldn't keep his mouth shut about anything even if his damn life depended on it."

"And what do you think she'll have to say about it?"

"What does it matter? I don't put much value in the opinion's of others."

"Not even that of your family?"

"Especially that of my family," he replied dryly. "My family isn't like most. We're not exactly a warm and fuzzy bunch."

Elizabeth digested that information, then asked, "Why is that?"

"Why is what?"

She turned, careful not to slosh water everywhere. "Why do you think you're not a warm family? Before my parents died, we were pretty close. I mean, my parents were awesome, great people. It took a long time for me to stop being angry at the world that they'd been taken when there are so many awful people out there in the world that shouldn't be."

Sutton, a beautiful man but so hard to read sometimes, simply shrugged, his gaze shuttered. "I don't waste my time thinking about questions I'm not likely going to get answered. My family is what it is. Besides, money makes up for a lot of deficits."

Elizabeth disagreed. "That's not true," she protested, shaking her head, sad that Sutton had a giant hole in his heart where family love should've been. "Money just covers up the hole, doesn't mean you can't still fall through it."

"Profound," he teased, reaching up to cup her chin. "My own little philosopher. That's an unexpected bonus to the purchase price."

She pulled away with a hurt scowl. Why did he have to bring up their sordid beginning at every chance? "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop pretending that there isn't something between us because I can feel it just as well as you can. Each time you try to cheapen what's happening, it only makes you look like a scared little boy and that's not very attractive."

His gaze narrowed. "Careful, little peach."

"No." She shook her head, knowing she was playing with fire but she couldn't stop. "I need you to stop being such a...a...damn _Buchanan_."

He looked affronted. "And who exactly would you have me be?"

She leaned forward and framed his face with her hands. "Just be Sutton. I like that guy. Sutton is surprisingly sweet and generous. But that Buchanan guy is just a dick who likes to push his weight around using his money. Trust me... _no one_ likes that guy but I suspect a lot of people — more importantly, _me_ — would love to get to know Sutton."

Sutton held her stare and after a charged moment, gently removed her hands, saying grimly,

"Sweetheart, they're one in the same. You can't have one without the other. Trust me, I know. I've tried."

Sutton rose from the bath, tucking his towel around him, needing space.

He hadn't meant to share that but somehow Elizabeth had coaxed that personal nugget of private information from his cache before he'd been able to stop her.

The thing was he wanted to share personal things with Elizabeth but he couldn't see how that was a good idea.

Theirs was not a real relationship and he needed to keep that knowledge in the forefront of his mind.

But even as something short and curt jumped to his tongue, something held it back — wrapping iron bands around the hurtful comment to keep it from ruining the fragile moment between them.

Elizabeth sensing a break in the wall, took advantage, rising from the bath and wrapping with a towel as well.

"Don't do it," she said softly, coming to him, her gaze searching his. "Every time you start to get close to me, you do something horrible and hurt me to protect yourself."

It scared him that she was so right. Put into stark words with no protective barrier of denial, the truth stung. He was a fucking bastard.

"You were the first person to see who I really was — to see beyond what others perceived as a flaws — please don't ruin that with words you don't mean."

"They were idiots," he said, his voice tight.

Sutton swallowed, his grip on the towel hard. God, she was striking to his core.

She covered his hand with her own, gently tugging his grip off the towel as she let hers go.

No fair, he thought, his gaze immediately riveted by the glorious hips, curves and tits that made him lose his mind.

"You're so beautiful."

To his own ears, it sounded like a whispered prayer and maybe that's exactly what it was because suddenly, it was Elizabeth kneeling before him, tenderly sucking him in, taking his cock with loving attention, gently fondling his ball sack and teasing him mercilessly.

She was a quick study, a natural.

Or maybe it was just that they were both so in tune with one another that it was easy to discern what worked and what didn't.

Either way, within minutes, he was breathing hard, his eyes rolling up into his head as he came in her mouth, filling her with his cream, which she eagerly swallowed as if it were ambrosia.

He stumbled back and collapsed on the bed, trying to catch his breath.

It was then he realized with fatal certainty that he'd never get enough of Elizabeth. They could live lifetimes together and he'd always want more.

With her, he was insatiable.

Never in his life had any one person so consumed his thoughts and desires.

It was frightening and outside of his comfort zone. _What the fuck are you doing? Falling in love?_ Impossible.

Nervous sweat dampened his brow as he tried to recover while not panicking at the wild thoughts zinging through his brain.

Elizabeth crawled on top of him, straddling his groin so that her hot core pressed against his ultra-sensitive spent cock. Within a heartbeat, he was already hardening again.

Her full breasts were exquisitely beautiful and all he wanted was to bury his face between their softness.

"You're doing it again," she warned him softly and he just stared. "What are you so afraid of?"

_Loving you._

But he couldn't say that. His hands gripped her hips and he thrust gently against her.

"I'm afraid of nothing."

"Who hurt you in the past?"

"What makes you think I've ever given anyone the power to hurt me?" he countered in a silky tone, his gaze still riveted by the rise and fall of her breasts as she slid down his cock, burying his length inside her.

He fought for control but a guttural moan escaped his lips.

"Because your actions say differently," Elizabeth said with a moan as he thrust against her.

She fell forward and he gripped her ass cheeks as he buried himself over and over into that hot, wet sheath.

He didn't want to think, didn't want to admit that she was right. He trusted no woman. Not even his sweet Elizabeth. "Oh God, Sutton!"

They both came quickly and Elizabeth rolled to the bed to snuggle against him.

He cuddled her because having her against him like this was almost as good as being inside her but there were too many questions pounding at his brain, demanding answers he wasn't ready to give.

If he admitted that he had feelings for Elizabeth, what then? How did that fit into their current framework?

It didn't. The whole point of purchasing Elizabeth was for the sole reason of being able to fuck her when he pleased.

He wanted to tie her up and slap her ass, watching as her flesh jiggled with each resounding hit, listen to her breathy cries as he pleasured her with dildos and vibrators while forcing her to watch as others fucked.

But something told him, she wouldn't mind. She trusted him to be her protector in every situation, even if he put her in it. She'd gotten off on watching others and in turn, her excitement had fueled his. They'd been only with each other and yet...the sex had been electric.

So different from anything he'd ever experienced. Was this... _love_?

Was it possible? Did fate truly have that much of a screwed sense of humor?

He only had to ask his cousins for that answer.

_I don't want to love her!_

But even as he fought against the idea quickly latching onto his consciousness with steel-tipped claws, he warmed to it as well.

He wanted every kind of sex with her — dirty, tender, fast, slow and everything in between — and what kind of man was he that he required such a vast palette of options to find pleasure?

Actually, since being with Elizabeth, he wasn't driven to fuck anyone but her.

The embarrassing incident with Gemini had pretty much driven that realization home.

_Ahh, fuck. Gemini._

The whore who'd meant nothing to him and yet his actions had hurt Elizabeth so deeply.

_Apologize._

_Bare your fucking soul._

He didn't know where the voice in his head came from or why.

In fact, the advice went against everything he believed in and yet, he desperately wanted the courage to do exactly that.

Sutton pulled Elizabeth closer, realizing she was fast asleep. He sighed, partly with relief, partly with disappointment.

Maybe tomorrow would come with more clarity — because right now, he just felt out of his depth and drowning.

And that was fucking frightening as hell.

# 20

Elizabeth persuaded Sutton to remain in Spain for one more day, which they spent shopping and eating to their hearts' content.

By the time they returned to the states, she was exhausted to the bone and couldn't wait to crawl into her own bed.

Er, well, her bed with Sutton, that is.

They ate a quick bite, showered, and after an even hastier wham-bam quickie (which was still pretty satisfying) they fell into bed and were asleep within minutes.

The following morning she was surprised to see Sutton still in bed with her.

She'd half expected him to be gone to work, not because he was a relentless workaholic, but because he wanted to avoid all the questions that'd popped up while in Spain.

But he further surprised her by sharing, "Rising Dawn needs you to sign final paperwork for the adjusted contract for your sister. You have an appointment at ten this morning."

"Oh, okay," she said, rubbing at her eyes as she became fully awake.

She cast a quick look at Sutton and decided to throw something out there, knowing full well he would probably bolt.

"Would you mind going with me?"

"Why?" He seemed startled by her request. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and drew a breath. "I'd like you and Gretchen to meet."

Sutton seemed to understand the gravity of her request. She would never expose Gretchen to someone she didn't trust.

Elizabeth was telling him without saying the words that she trusted him with the single most important person in her life.

Sutton shook his head, troubled. "That's not a good idea. I think it's best to keep lines drawn. Lately, things have been a little blurred and that's just not good business."

Elizabeth felt the rejection like a physical slap but she didn't let on that he'd hurt her.

"Fine."

She wrapped a robe around her and walked past him to the bathroom. She wasn't going to reward him with sweetness when he'd just hit her in the face with a dead fish.

To his credit, he didn't push the issue. For that she was grateful. She didn't want him to see her tears.

Sutton was angry.

Not at Elizabeth — well, maybe a little bit at Elizabeth — but mostly at himself.

Why had she asked him to accompany her to Rising Dawn? What purpose would that serve? He had no interest in knowing her extended family.

The only reason he'd been able to persuade Elizabeth to take the deal was because of her love for her sister and the shame of it was beginning to weigh on his shoulders.

And it shouldn't.

He had no reason to suffer an ounce of shame.

He was a businessman — he'd seen an opportunity and he'd capitalized on it.

End of story.

And yet, there was a growing part of him that hated how he'd coerced Elizabeth into his bed. He couldn't help but think of how happy his cousins seemed with their women and a part of him wanted that, too, even if he couldn't actually admit it out loud.

Why was he so broken inside that he couldn't just accept that he wanted Elizabeth in a deeper way than a piece of paper could define?

_Because women weren't trustworthy. Women existed to break men._

Hadn't his own mother abandoned her children for her own gain? Completely wrote off her three kids for the promise of something better? No matter how he'd cried? How he'd begged her to stay?

_Fuck women._

The insidious voice slithered in his mind, planting little seeds of hateful bitterness and he realized he would never be free to find true happiness until he crushed that little voice under his booted heel.

Elizabeth was opening herself to him, in spite of everything he'd done to her.

How was it possible that he deserved such a good woman?

He'd done nothing but hurt her from day one.

One trip to Spain wasn't going to make up for the deep cuts he'd inflicted out of shame and guilt.

And now she was asking for him to accompany her to Rising Dawn, to further dig the knife in until he was well and truly skewered.

A knife he would gladly take for her, he realized.

_Fuck it all!_

He was falling in love with the damn woman.

How'd that happen?

He'd been so careful, so precise in his methods.

It'd been about the sex. It'd all been so clear in his mind.

But he hadn't accounted for the way Elizabeth would make him feel, the way her breathy moans electrified his soul in ways that he couldn't even fathom were possible.

_Ah, shit._

He wasn't fit to lick her toes much less love her. Not after everything he'd done.

The fact was, he wasn't a good match for Elizabeth and never would be. She deserved someone who could love her without reservation, without the baggage of a fucked up past.

Someone who didn't fantasize about all the depraved things he wanted to do to her in the still of the night.

He closed his eyes, willing the pain of his decision to go away.

He wasn't so cruel that he'd drag Elizabeth through this fucked up parody of a relationship any longer. Not now. He'd do the honorable thing and release her from the contract.

Sutton released the pent up breath locked in his chest as he suffered the debilitating pain of losing Elizabeth.

So this was what doing the right thing felt like?

_Yeah, this fucking sucked._

At this point, being the good guy left much to be desired.

# 21

Elizabeth walked into Rising Dawn and the intake coordinator, Nancy, greeted her with a customarily warm smile.

Nancy was one of the main reasons Elizabeth's family had been comfortable with Rising Dawn.

"So happy to see you again, dear," Nancy said, shaking Elizabeth's hand. "We were overjoyed to hear that Gretchen will remain with us. Come into my office and we'll discuss the new contract."

Elizabeth followed Nancy into the nicely appointed office, which was purposefully decorated to put people at ease due to the circumstances that often led people into her office.

Nancy pulled a file and pushed it toward Elizabeth with an engaging smile. "I thought before we sign official documents — that's always so dry — I would share some of the amazing art your sister has been creating."

Surprised, Elizabeth opened the file and immediately smiled with instant tears as she thumbed through the drawings.

Gretchen was non-verbal but her art was incredibly expressive and it alternately filled Elizabeth with joy and broke her heart at the same time.

"They're beautiful," Elizabeth exclaimed softly, wiping at her eyes. "She's amazing. How long has she been painting?"

"We recently brought on a new art instructor and Gretchen has really taken to her. I think it's because she reminds her of you. In fact," Nancy sorted through the pile to find one piece in particular "when I saw this one, I knew she was trying to communicate something important."

Elizabeth stared at the painting, tears flowing freely. It was a painting of a woman, holding a sketchpad, looking out a window, her expression lost in the creations of her own mind.

Elizabeth looked to Nancy. "It's me."

Nancy nodded. "That's what I thought, too. You may think that because she's nonverbal that she doesn't notice things but Gretchen is quite observant about the world around her. She just expresses things differently. Like her sister, she has gravitated toward art."

"That makes me so happy," Elizabeth said, accepting a tissue from Nancy and dabbing her eyes. "For so long I've worried that I'm never doing the right thing and that I'm failing her in some way. My parents always seemed to understand Gretchen better than me."

"She loves you," Nancy assured Elizabeth. "Would you like to have a few of these?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you so much."

Nancy smiled. "All right then. Now, onto the dry details."

They spent the next hour going over the financials, which were easy considering Sutton had already paid the bill for the year.

Elizabeth had enough money to pay for the next five years without breaking a sweat, thanks to Sutton's first allotment.

Finished, Elizabeth went to find Gretchen.

Clutching the paperwork to her breast, Elizabeth found her sister with a sketchpad, doodling.

"Hi, Gretch." Elizabeth wanted to hug her but Gretchen didn't like physical contact and reacted adversely so Elizabeth contented herself with just sitting near her. "I saw your art. It's beautiful. You're so talented."

Gretchen's gaze flicked to Elizabeth and there was a flash of something that Elizabeth recognized as warmth and she smiled with joy.

Before Rising Dawn, Gretchen had been almost unmanageable. Now, she was creating art and almost smiling.

No matter what the cost, Elizabeth realized she'd made the right decision. She'd do it again.

Removing her own sketchpad from her bag, she settled into the chair and began sketching alongside Gretchen.

For the longest time, the fact that Gretchen was nonverbal was a stumbling block but sketching alongside her sister, Elizabeth realized words had never been necessary.

That realization was a gift Sutton would never know he'd given her.

Sutton watched from a discreet vantage point Elizabeth and Gretchen together, two sisters, sketching together without exchanging a single word and he was struck by the bond between them.

A bond he'd never known with his own siblings.

He saw the tenderness in Elizabeth's gaze, the absolute joy and acceptance, and he realized Elizabeth was the kind of woman he'd never known — selfless.

She'd given herself in exchange for her sister, who could not care for herself, and she'd done it in spite of being afraid, in spite of his demands, and in spite of the moral boundaries he'd required her to cross.

Because Elizabeth was that kind of person.

He'd treated her as he treated all women — disposable — but that'd been his biggest folly.

Elizabeth was anything but disposable.

She was...everything to him.

Sutton swallowed the lump in his throat as a formerly unknown emotion swamped him, threatening to capsize his soul in its wake.

He loved her.

Somehow, somewhere...he'd fallen in love with Elizabeth Downing.

The realization was almost too overwhelming; it threw everything he'd ever known or believed into a tailspin.

Love was a chemical reaction in the brain — if so, he was already addicted.

Love fades so don't waste your time — every moment with Elizabeth would be worth it.

Love is for people who have to settle — love is for the lucky few who can recognize it.

His cousins had it — they cherished it.

Sutton finally understood that look in Vince's eyes when Vince saw his wife, Emma — complete and utter adoration.

If Sutton had a mirror right now, he'd see the same expression on his own face.

He fucking adored Elizabeth and everything she was.

And he had from the very beginning.

He'd just been too blind to see what his heart had already known.

But could Elizabeth love him?

He'd done so much damage, created so much pain.

_One way to find out_ , he realized and quietly left Rising Dawn before Elizabeth saw him.

He had work to do.

Elizabeth was puzzled by Sutton's cryptic text message.

However, seeing as his last mysterious message had put her on a private jet to Spain, she wasn't averse to finding out what the man had up his sleeve this time.

Dressed in her favorite Chantal dress, she took a little extra time with her make up and when the car pulled up to shuttle her to wherever Sutton had arranged, she felt beautiful and confident — two things she never thought would ever be in her wheelhouse.

The car pulled up to Swank and her cheeks flared with the memory of what they'd done in the restroom of this fancy restaurant.

The old Elizabeth would've been mortified to show her face, the new Elizabeth just smiled at the exciting memory.

She was directed to the bar where her favorite drink awaited her but Sutton was nowhere to be seen.

Frowning with mild confusion, she accepted the drink and took a fortifying sip.

Suddenly, strong hands encircled her waist and she smiled above the rim of her glass.

"I thought I was being stood up," she teased and he growled in her ear.

"Never."

She turned and her smile faltered as her breath hitched.

The man was far too handsome for his own good.

He took her breath away and put her at a disadvantage every time.

But then, Elizabeth was pretty sure he knew that, too.

_The cheeky bastard._

"Come." He offered his arm and she accepted it with a happy smile, delighted by this newly chivalrous version of Sutton.

She sank into the chair with Sutton's help and he took his place opposite her at the intimate table.

It was then she noticed the sheaf of paper.

"What's this?" she asked, confused.

Sutton held her gaze for a long moment, then answered, "Your dissolution papers. I'm releasing you."

A shockwave traveled through her as hurt and confusion replaced her happy feelings. "W-what?"

"I need you to sign here," he pointed out with a pen "and here. Afterward, I will have the rest of the money wired to your account. Following that...you are no longer...my property."

She should be happy. This should be news that made her sing with joy.

But instead, a lump of something awful was lodged in her belly.

Tears blinded her but she accepted the pen and quickly scrawled her name in the appropriate places.

"So is this your goodbye dinner?" she asked stiffly, no longer feeling pretty or confident. She'd just been dumped. He chuckled and her gaze flew to his, wounded. "Why are you laughing?"

"The irony, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess there's that," she admitted glumly.

"I would've thought you would be happy to be free of me," he said.

"Me too."

"But you're not?"

She wiped at her eyes. "No," she murmured, her heart aching.

"And why is that?"

He was going to make her spell it out for him? That was just cruel. A spurt of spirit returned as she answered hotly,

"Because I did the stupidest thing imaginable and fell in love with you!"

Was that relief in his expression? She didn't have time to question.

"Good."

The sudden shine in his eyes took her aback. Was Sutton...struggling with something? He pulled a ring case and put it on the table.

"Open it."

All she could do was stare. What was happening? She reached for the ring box and opened it with shaking fingers.

The biggest fucking diamond she'd ever seen winked at her, nearly blinding with its brilliance and all she could do was stare.

"What is this? I don't understand..."

Now it was Sutton's turn to be nervous.

"I've done things all wrong with you from the start. I bullied you into an arrangement that I thought I wanted until I realized I didn't want a puppet, I wanted you. But then, I was lost, trying to make sense of the messages I was getting from my heart when they didn't mesh with what was in my head. The thing is, Elizabeth, until you, I had no reason to trust women. All my life women have burned me, starting with my own mother, who abandoned all of her children for a better deal. I learned at a young age not to trust. I didn't realize until I'd already fucked things up that you were cut from a different cloth than the rest of the women I've known. You deserved better than I gave you and I'm so sorry for all the pain I've caused you. You were right, I took the coward's way out, pushing you away because I was struggling with what my heart was telling me. I...was an unbelievable asshole when I..."

Pain lanced through her at his admission. She shook her head.

"No details," she managed to whisper, swallowing hard. God, she couldn't fucking breathe at the very thought of Sutton being with someone else.

Sutton understood and solemnly promised, "Never again."

Elizabeth was dumbfounded by his confession.

She was dangerously close to melting in a puddle of her own tears. She'd never seen Sutton so bare, so vulnerable — and it made her fall all the harder.

Sutton was prostrating himself before her, seeking her forgiveness?

Should she admit that she'd already forgiven him, even before this moment? She couldn't manage the words, her throat had closed.

Her gaze returned to the ring. What was he saying?

"I don't understand," she repeated, shaking her head, trying to put things in order in her mind but everything was in beautiful chaos.

He helped remove the ring and gently slid it on her finger.

"You are no longer my property but I would be honored if..." he drew a deep breath "you would be my wife."

Elizabeth might've fainted — or at the very least blacked out.

Sutton couldn't stand the wait.

He was shaking all over, scared out of his mind that she was going to say no, tell him to fuck off, or just get up and walk out, leaving him with his dick in his hand.

But she did neither.

In fact, she simply cried while nodding her head and he took that as a resounding yes.

"I will be your wife," Elizabeth finally answered, her voice choked with tears and he couldn't wait another moment to touch her.

Reaching across the small table, he pulled her to him, sealing his mouth to hers, loving the feel of her, the taste of her lips.

He wanted a lifetime of this.

It'd taken long enough but he finally realized that something worth having wasn't taken by force but coaxed and treasured.

He'd never again treat Elizabeth as anything less than what she truly was — his everything.

And he wanted to start their lives together immediately.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make up for every tear I've ever made you cry," he said in earnest and that made her cry harder, which wasn't a good start. He chuckled and wiped her face gently. "Are these happy tears?"

"Very happy tears," she said, her joyful laughter lighting a blaze of happiness through his insides. "Very, very happy tears."

And that, he decided, was a good start to what was going to be an awesome life.

# Epilogue

"Exquisite."

Elizabeth closed her eyes at the sound of Sutton's sultry voice at her neck, allowing but a moment to savor the sexy beast that was her husband.

She was the star tonight and had to remain on point.

"Are you talking about me or the art?" she teased as Sutton took his place beside her and handed her a glass of champagne.

"Both, of course," he answered correctly with a cheeky grin that she adored.

The reception at Covington House was more than she ever dreamed it would be.

The guests were milling about, exclaiming at her art, and she no longer felt the urge to hide her face with embarrassment at the sensual art she'd created nor did she feel the need to hide her voluptuous body.

In fact, she felt nothing but pride in her creations — and herself — as it should be.

But as proud as she was of herself, there was a section of the exhibit that meant so much more and it was all Sutton's idea.

Gretchen's art filled a hallway and there were already buyers lined up to purchase prints.

All proceeds would go to the newly formed foundation in Gretchen's honor for the research of autism.

In all, everything was wonderful.

All because one man and one woman were destined to love one another — in spite of themselves.

"Come with me," Sutton said, leading her away from the throng of people and into the director's office.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth exclaimed, giggling. "I can't just leave. I'm the guest of honor!"

"This will only take a minute," he promised, bending her over the mahogany desk and lifting her dress to expose her hips.

Then he saw that she went without any panties and she giggled at his discovery.

"You little minx," he said with silky approval. "Methinks you had this in mind from the start."

"Well...I do know my husband."

"That you do. And I love your sexy ass for it!"

When they emerged from the office, slightly winded but wearing bright smiles and pinked cheeks, they received a few puzzled glances but Elizabeth didn't care.

Elizabeth loved that her husband was insatiable...because as it turned out...so was she.

And that was pretty damn awesome.

Life with a Buchanan was nothing short of amazing.

Now, if they were lucky...there might just be a new generation of Buchanans on the way.

If not, they were both happy to keep trying.

Because trying was the best part!

_The End_

Need more Buchanans? Check out Reece Buchanan's story in, PUSHED, followed by DAMAGED!

# Also by Alexx Andria

Are you looking for more by USA Today bestselling author Alexx Andria? Check out the following titles (the titles are clickable for your convenience!)

***BUCHANAN ROMANCE**

***** **Bought By The Billionaire Brothers**

_Three ridiculously wealthy men, one curvy woman and the fight to own her. Which one will win her heart? # billionaireromance_

***The Buchanan's Baby**

_Nolan Buchanan is used to getting what he wants, until the mother of his baby girl wants nothing to do with him. Can this billionaire convince his baby mama to take a chance on love? # billionaireromance_

***The Buchanan's Redemption**

_Vince Buchanan is all about the win — in business and in the bedroom — so when he's forced to shelter a woman to protect his business interests, he never suspects he might fall for the difficult woman. Will he earn redemption or will he cling to old habits? # billionaireromance_

***A Christmas Promise**

_Laird Teichert isn't a gentle man but when he's called upon to protect a broken woman, he finds himself wanting to be the man she needs. Can he change before it's too late? Or will he lose the woman of his dreams forever...# billionaireromance_

***The Billionaire's Sweet Surprise**

_Vince Buchanan thought he had everything he needed in life...until his feisty little wife surprised him with the ultimate gift._

_Old demons from his past threaten his future happiness unless he can put them to rest but can he make the change in time? # billionaireromance_

***Coerced**

_Nobody says no to Sutton Buchanan, except one curvy artist who doesn't know any better._

_Can he trust his heart or will he cling to his old ways and ruin the woman of his dreams? # billionaireromance_

***Pushed**

_Reece Buchanan is a player and he's good at what he does. Now he's supposed to use that charm to bring down a woman holding up an essential investment._

_So what's he supposed to do when he accidentally falls in love?_

_It's the woman or his family...what choice will he make? # billionaireromance_

***Damaged**

(Coming soon!) _# billionaireromance_

**Leverage**

_Boston Kincaid is ruthless, hard and filthy rich. He takes what he wants and gives zero f* cks._

_Until he meets Julianna. In an instant, everything changes._

_Except Julianna hates him and she's bound and determined to keep him away from her...and their baby. # billionaireromance_

**Still Into You** **(Miles and Dani's story) (Formerly Falling from** **Grace**

_Dr. Miles Lassiter doesn't want anything to do with a certain Hollywood starlet but when he's the only who can save her...he finds himself torn._

_Will Miles lose his heart again or will he walk away forever from the woman he needs the most? # beachread_

**Club Chrome series:**

**Kings of Asphalt** **(MC romance)**

_Two hard-bodied motorcycle club leaders and one curvy journalist looking for a story adds up to trouble of the most interesting kind! #MCromance #menage # badboy_

**All Dogs Bite** **(MC romance)**

_Some bad boys can't be tamed...or can they?_

_A curvy graphic artist and a motorcycle club leader with a nose for trouble team up in an unlikely duo that's sexy, dirty and fun!_

_But when things get serious...will the bad boy run or become the hero she needs? #MCromance # badboy_

**Up In Flames** **(MC romance)**

_Redemption is a dish best served spicy hot! Pyro is no hero, at least that's what he tells himself but when he finds himself standing between certain death and a woman from his past...he can't walk away._

_Even if it costs him his life. #MCromance # badboy_

***The Awakening series** **(Parts 1- 6)**

_A special shifter baby is prophecied to be born and all the rival clans are hungry to claim the woman who is supposed to bear the special child!_

_Who will protect her and the baby when someone wants her dead? #paranormal romance #shifters # werewolves_

***One Naughty Girl series** **(Parts 1- 5)**

_Bored housewife turned secret sex spy? Of course! Wild, campy fun with lots of dirty sex for your reading enjoyment! (Don't take this too seriously!) #erotica #lotsofsex # humor_

**Against The Wall**

_This hard-assed cop is willing to do anything to catch the man...even use a beautiful woman's need to protect her brother._

_But he never imagined he might catch feelings..._

**Caged**

_Damon McAvoy is no hero but when he inadvertently finds himself protecting a woman who's nothing but trouble...he gets way more than he bargained for._

_Will love save these two hard-headed people or will they destroy each other before their enemies do? #badboy # cagefighter_

**Irreversible**

_What happens when a hardened hitman falls for his target? Well, they might just be screwed! Can love survive on the run? Read and find out in this sexy, romantic comedy! #romcom #badboy # hitman_

**Temporary**

_A broken billionaire with a heart of stone paid a waitress for one night of anything goes...but can one night change everything? #billionaireromance #angst # HEA_

* * *

Looking for something really HOT and NAUGHTY? If you dare...here are some value-packed bundles for your reading pleasure!

**Dark Control** ***formerly Unwilling**

**Dirty, Dirty Dozen**

**Forbidden**

Or, if you're looking for something paranormal...

**Blood Moon Rising** **, The Omnibus**

_In an alternate world where creatures exist within the human world, a prophecy is building that will change everything._

_One reluctant hero and one desperate woman are all that stands between the world's destruction and the extinction of the human race._

**Or if you're looking for something a little off-the-beaten path with plenty of sass and a little bit twisted? Check out the episodic serial by Angel James!**

**Property of Heartbreak Ranch** **, PT 1**

_Sold to a despicable man, Dallas survive Heartbreak Ranch or die trying!_

**Property of Heartbreak Ranch** **, PT 2**

**Property of Heartbreak Ranch** **, PT 3**

# About the Author

Alexx Andria writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance with the hottest heroes and their feisty ladies, working toward their Happily-Ever-After.

"Books are magic."

For more information:

www.authoralexxandria.com

alexxandria2772@gmail.com

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