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CHAPTER 11 – CAPTURING BLUE EYES
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Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER TWELVE – CAPTURING BLUE EYES (II)
LONDON"Calm down, Luca. You'll wear a hole in the fucking carpet."I pace from one end of the private, Platinum lounge to the other, my nerves on high alert. My skin feels too tight for my body.Something's wrong.I can feel it. Ricardo watches me from his perch on one of the few bar stools. I made sure the Platinum lounge was empty tonight. I have some very important issues to sort out with a certain hotheaded female. I gave her the opportunity to come to me willingly, but the temptress just had to prove stubborn. I guess it's time she learned Blackstone is not to be disobeyed. I will always get what I want, and I want Cheyenne…badly. Ricardo eyes me like I've gone crazy. I don't blame him. I feel crazy."You know what usually happens when you get like this, boss. I strongly suggest you calm down. If Hogan says she'll be here, then she'll be here."I plop down on the stool beside him, barely resisting the urge to slam my fists into the state-of-the-art rotating bar. Ricardo is rig
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 13 – ONE NIGHT WITH BLUE EYES
LONDONAnger manifests in two forms.The first form where it shocks you into silence, renders you completely speechless. And the second form, where raw, unbridled fury threatens to claw through your insides. You feel violent. Destructive.I stare up at Luca and I want to scratch and claw. I want to explode. There's a red, barely visible mark where my palm connected with his cheek, but he does not look pained. Instead, he looks surprised, amused even. Right now, the bastard pins me to the bed with threats to inflict more bodily harm on my person. I buck agdinst him. His weight is becoming slightly uncomfortable. He doesn't flinch. Instead, he grinds his hips harder agdinst my already slick core. I grit my teeth to prevent a stray moan from slipping out. God! That feels good. Too good. The feeling only serves to ignite my anger."Get the fuck off me."He drills furious gray eyes into my face."No. Start talking."I give him an incredulous look."Start talking. Oh, where do I begin?" My
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 14 – ONE NIGHT WITH BLUE EYES (II)
LONDONI'm stunned to silence.I look down at my gaping dress then back at Luca, trying to grasp the strange turn of events. His attention isn't on me though. Right now, he stares intently at my lace bra. My nipples peeble underneath the padding. It must be the AC, I conclude. I refuse to chalk up the tightening of my nipples to this man's hot, appreciative stare.I struggle futilely against my bonds. It is tied strong enough to hold me captive, but not to bruise. It makes me think he's done this before. My eyes narrow to slits, he's obviously an expert at tying up weak females. I struggle hard but Luca pins me effectively into the bed with his hips.Without warning, he leans forward and mouths my nipples through the confines of my bra. His lips are not directly on them yet but lethal heat shoots straight to my core. I moan, a strange, disgruntled sound. This man night actually end up fondling me to my death. When I feel like I can't take it anymore, Luca rears back. His eyes are two
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 15 – ONE NIGHT WITH BLUE EYES (III)
LONDONI never really understood the phrase "beauty personified" until a few hours ago.Now, I hold the most beautiful woman in my arms and a calm, settling feeling descends on me. She might be here against her will, probably scared to death, hates my guts to hell and back, and is currently preparing to lie to my face – but at this moment, and perhaps all the moments in a very long while, I do not fucking care. I intend to ravish the hatred and fear right out of her. I'll give her carnal pleasures so powerful, she will not remember that I forced her to stay. Hell, when all this is over, it'll be a fucking miracle if she remembers her own name.I have to admit, I love the fear. I love the feeling of power that having her pinned beneath me, completely at my mercy, brings. Hell, I've killed men, wrecked cities, murdered world class criminal masterminds, but no feeling can be compared to the glorious, heady sensation of witnessing this hard headed, beautiful female fall apart beneath me.I
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 16 – RELUCTANT ESCAPE
LONDONI stand over the bed, staring down at Luca's unmoving body. The first thought that crosses my mind is, "I hope he's not dead." My heart beats an almost painful rhythm against my breast . When the handsome devil began asking questions, I knew I had to get out of here. I've known him long enough to realise he's a brute. He never stops until he gets what he wants – and he doesn't ask nicely. He uses his sinfully wicked fingers and tongue on my body until I'm screaming whatever he wants from the rooftops like a fucking banshee.I saw the syringe filled with brown liquid on the bedside locker after I had extricated myself from the throes of a very mind numbing orgasm. I did not know what it was or if it would put him down – the man looks downright invincible, but I was desperate, and out of options. My gaze finds his motionless body again. I sure as hell did not expect it to work this quickly. What is in this thing anyways? Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't kill…or have any adverse
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone PART (II) – IN WHICH BLACKSTONE GETS THE GIRL
CHAPTER 17 – AFTER…LONDON"Cut off his fingers, all of them. I want it slow and painful."I stand in the underground, state-of-the-art, bomb resistant facilities of The Blue Diamond. Designed as a safe house/ torture chamber, it is one of my most favorite places. Right now, I watch as my men skin Liam Jordan alive, the fucking guard who had the audacity to hit Blue eyes. I shut my eyes, letting his high pitched, pain filled screams feed the dark demon that took possession of my body the moment I woke up cold and alone in that hotel room.It's been sixteen hours. Sixteen fucking hours of constantly searching for her and harassing my tech. officials all over the world. Sixteen hours of persistently torturing myself with images of her postcoital glow and mind numbing beauty. My fingers clench involuntarily into fists at my sides. I've been very difficult to work with and even more difficult to control for the past few hours. So far, I've lashed out at my men, completely destroyed the P
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 18 – WEDDING BELLS...?
LONDON.I stand before the floor to ceiling mirrors, and can barely recognise the girl that stares back at me. This girl with high, pale cheekbones and a tight, practiced smile.This painfully beautiful girl with fake bright eyes and a crumpling heart. I look around the once magnificent ball room, now converted to a wedding fitting room by Dad and my stomach tightens with nausea. Bridal outfits from God knows how many extravagant design labels fill the place.I took a peek at the price tag on one of the numerous gowns earlier and instantly regretted it. The least expensive dress here costs about thirty thousand pounds. Dad says I get to keep all of them. Something about it not being safe to take the dresses back – finger prints and stuff.So far, I have had sessions after stiffling sessions with professional wedding and home management experts. Pampered, stuffy women with their aristocratic noses permanently stuck in the air, and their too perfect London accent. Women who feel it is t
Becoming Mrs. Blackstone CHAPTER 19 – THE INVASION
LONDONMy life is coming to an end, and today is the day.The mansion has been buffed and polished to an almost blinding shine. The main hall had already been set up with an altar and a lot of expensive white gold decorations.Dad has not spared any expenses.The cellar is stocked with extravagant wine labels. The buffet table is filled with an overwhelming quantity of food. How many people are attending this wedding ceremony anyways?I stand again before the floor to ceiling mirrors while Yulia tries to fix my veil. A flurry of activity is currently going on around me, but I barely notice. It's like the train wreck that is my life is playing out in slow motion, and I'm worried that I might not be strong enough to pull myself from the rubble. My stomach twists with nerves. My shoulders are stiff with tension.The makeup professional dabs the final and only later of foundation on my face. Dad being Dad wanted heavy, extravagant make-up. I on the other hand, want something light and ra
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