Craving Control
GET THE E-BOOK
GET THE BOOK
ADD TO WISHLIST
a dark tale of obsession
Please note:
This story was banned as an ebook on Amazon, Apple Books, and Draft2Digital. Due to this, it is only available as a free welcome gift after confirming your subscription to the Faust 411 reader update or by purchasing directly from my website.
It is available in paperback and hardcover on the retailers.
After going head-to-head with Lysander Mayberry and losing, Alexander Kingsley decides that the only way to avenge his career-ending injury is to hit Sander where it hurts most.
His twin sister, Lilianna.
Fixated on revenge and goaded into action by his devious father, Alex sets out to corner the MC princess. And, once he has her in his sights, Alex is delighted to discover that Anna isn’t as meek and mild as he first suspected.
Innocent yet rebellious, Anna isn’t exactly enamoured with Alex or his need to control her.
Since there is nothing Alex likes better than going to battle against a worthy opponent, he quickly finds himself obsessed with two things. Revenge and Lilianna Mayberry. In fact, he decides that once he’s used Anna to break her twin’s spirit, he’s going to keep the headstrong blonde for himself.
If he can manage to tame her, that is.
Coming up against roadblock after roadblock, Alex’s dogged pursuit leads to blackmail, and shortly after that, it morphs into a fight to the death. After all, in a world where the Maddison clan and the Black Shamrocks MC are natural-born enemies, there were always only two possible ways for this battle to end…
Kill or be killed.
This 90,000-word dark psychological suspense novel is the first book in Bella Faust’s Black Shamrocks MC: Australia series. A brutal, one-sided, “love” story, Craving Control is the tale of one man’s battle against his obsessive tendencies and one woman’s fight to survive him.
Reader discretion is advised as this story contains potentially triggering content.
“I would fight of course… better to destroy everything than surrender her.” ~Vladimir Nabokov~
Prologue
Being forced to sit at the most publicly visible table outside the best restaurant in Inadale while my mother natters on about the nose job one of her frenemies—I use that word with a complete absence of irony since this is the only kind of friend my mother has—recently procured for her sixteen-year-old daughter and my father texts away on his phone is a strange and unusual form of punishment. Unfortunately, it’s also a type of torture I’m well-equipped to survive.
In truth, it’s only mildly irritating, by this point.
Because the torment comes with a time limit.
One my father sensibly negotiated years ago when he could see that I was about to rebel.
“Have you spoken to Victoria lately?”
It takes me a moment to realise that my mother’s inquiry is directed at me. Her one-eighty from a botched nose job to one of the girl’s older sisters shouldn’t surprise me considering she’s been pushing me in Victoria’s direction for months. I drag my eyes away from the semi-busy main street of the mid-sized country town I call home to ask, “Which one is Victoria again?”
My mother titters like my direct question is the funniest thing she’s heard today. “The middle daughter. The—”
“The one with the lazy eye,” Dad offers in a flat tone. “And the overbite.”
Shrugging, I peer down at the half-eaten and very overpriced lunch on the table in front of me. “Not sure why you keep flogging that dead horse, but I’m not interested in Victoria—” I hold a finger up to silence my mother when she tries to interject. “—and, no, I’m not interested in the sister with the new nose either because there is no way in hell I’m marrying into the De La Rue family. I want to get away from you… marrying a daughter of our closest neighbour is the exact opposite of escape.”
“Sit down, Lizzie,” my father orders when my mother tries to storm off.
As soon as she lowers back into her seat, he reaches under the table. The weak woman who birthed me presses her lips into a tight line and does her best not to blink when her eyes fill with tears. Being intimately acquainted with my father’s cruel ways myself, I imagine he’s got quite a vicious grip on either her wrist or her thigh right now. Joseph Kingsley rules the pair of us with an iron fist, and while these regularly scheduled displays of upper-class happiness are my mother’s idea, he is just as concerned by our public image as she is.
Perception is everything in his game.
He is a sitting Member of Parliament, after all. Next in line to run the state of Western Australia. Having rumours of his wife storming away from him simply wouldn’t do. There can be no visible discord, not an iota of truth is allowed to cast over his reputation as a family man with a strong moral code and an even stronger intolerance for crime and corruption.
The snarky voice that lives in my mind raises his ugly head, ready to spit venom at my understated description of my controlling father. Dear old Dad is dirty to the core—he’s just found the perfect way to keep his deeds buried and his nose clean. My maternal grandfather, the boss of the Irish mob, deals with the underworld. My father acts as the moral conduit, bending the law to suit their mutual goals.
When the monster pushes against the bars of the chemical cage I keep him contained in, I bite the inside of my cheek until the tangy copper taste of blood washes over my tastebuds. Few things satisfy the demon in my head when he tries to escape the leash I keep him on.
Thankfully, blood is one of them…
“Speaking of flogging dead horses,” my father mutters. I follow his gaze, darting a look over my shoulder in the direction he’s staring. My monster howls at what we find. Rage settles over my vision in a red mist. “When are you going to dish out a proper serving of payback to Lysander Mayberry?” I can barely hear Dad past the need for violence that’s whooshing in my ears. When I don’t answer quick enough, my father nudges my dodgy left knee with his. I hiss. He ignores my pain tell me, “He needs to be taken down a peg… and soon.” Mother makes a nervous sound of disagreement but doesn’t otherwise contradict him. “I heard last night that he’s been accepted into the University of Western Australia and will be training with the Perth Wagyl’s as well. The bookies have him odds on to debut this season—he’ll be the youngest player to play in the federation when he does.”
This time, the blood that floods my mouth is accidental since I didn’t mean to sink my teeth into my bottom lip. A trail of blood runs from the corner of my mouth. I dab at it with my linen napkin, grateful for the distraction my mistake provides my monster, as I twist in my chair to get a better look at my arch-nemesis.
Athletically gifted, morally righteous, Sander’s need to be judge, jury, and punisher was my downfall. I hate him with a white-hot rage that will scorch the earth around me if I ever set it free. He’s stolen everything for me—the future my father just laid out was supposed to be mine. I want it back, except the damage he inflicted on my knee permanently removed the possibility that my expulsion from the National Basketball Federation could not.
Policy decisions are meant to be broken. Knees not so much. Especially with sledgehammers wielded by fourteen-year-old boys. The punishment Sander dished out to me destroyed my life, so I’ve made it my life’s mission to ruin him and his posse of upstarts.
Unfortunately, in the four years since he demolished my knee, I’m yet to find a way to hurt him in return. He’s well-protected. Not in the same way someone from an elite family like mine is, hidden behind a veil of wealth and fear, Sander’s untouchable because of the loyalty he’s personally inspired in addition to the infamy that comes with the motorcycle club his family belongs to. A club infinitely more popular than any that embraces my family as members.
The Black Shamrocks MC. A motley crew of gunrunners and weed sellers.
Somehow, they inspire a level of loyalty that is unattainable to me, even with a sitting Member of Parliament for a father and a wealthy socialite with underworld connections for a mother. I’ve never managed to cultivate fidelity in anyone outside those forced to serve me. For all my pedigree and previous sporting achievements, I’m as much an outsider in Inadale as I am a member of the inner clique.
Of course, the cocktail of chemicals my mother has the butler pour down my throat every morning doesn’t help. Curbing my psychotic compulsions and antisocial tendencies with pharmaceuticals may make me easier to control, but they also dull my particular brand of cruel je ne sais quoi.
What once made me a leader, now renders me a follower.
Thanks to Sander Mayberry and his overactive sense of justice.
“Hmmm,” Dad muses. He laughs, a genuinely evil sound that he rarely lets loose in public, and the sound rips me out of my pity party. I turn back to him, my gaze narrowing when I discover that he’s smirking. “I didn’t think he’d have the stomach for it, but here she is. Out in the open. A siren being dangled in front of a monster.”
My father’s emphasis on the last word is my first clue.
For a second time, I follow his focus, only this time I look past Sander.
Crossing the street with one of the local slut’s who recently graced my bed is a goddess. Tall. Blonde. Lightly tanned. Curvy. The girl is exactly what my father called her.
A siren.
It takes one glance to lure me in, a second to hook me.
“Who is she?”
“That’s Lilianna,” Dad replies. “Lysander’s twin. He’s very protective of her—she rarely makes it into town without a contingent of bikers surrounding her.”
I vaguely remember her from school. The twins were in their first year at the senior school while I was finishing my last. Studious and quiet. She was on the running team, but I don’t think we had anything else together, so Lilianna never really snagged my attention back then.
For one thing, she certainly didn’t look like this four years ago.
Secondly, I was distracted by my immediate rivalry with her brother. The second he tried out for the team; I knew he was going to give me trouble. Everything that I worked hard for came easily to him. Including the loyalty of our teammates.
He usurped my leadership.
Flouted the rules I used to keep everyone in line.
Despised the rituals that bound us together.
When he decided that he was too good to undergo the same hazing as everyone else, I targeted his best friend. Luke Hayes broke like a cheap, plastic toy, and I thought that was enough to put Sander in his place.
More fool me.
I let down my guard.
Took my eye off the prize.
Revelled in my victory too soon.
He used my arrogance against me and gathered the perfect amount of dirty laundry to expose me to the only thing that could take down a family like mine.
Public scrutiny.
I wasn’t paying attention back then, so I underestimated my foe.
But I’m paying attention now, and I see Lilianna for what she is.
Payback.
My greatest enemy. His gorgeous sister.
Two birds. One stone. Or better still: two siblings, one well-deserved serving of revenge.
Poor Lilianna Mayberry doesn’t stand a chance against me and my monster…
Chapter one
“You had no right, Sander,” the indignant tone that Lilianna is using to berate her twin brother is music to my ears. “We’re almost eighteen. It’s none of your business what I had planned and who I planned to do it with.”
“Stop bein’ so fuckin’ melodramatic,” Sander tells his sister. “I saved you from makin’ an idiot of yourself.”
“Whatever.”
I’ve spent all night tracking the twins and their friends, trying to find the right time to intercept Lilianna without her brother’s interference. For three hours, it appeared like I wouldn’t get the opportunity tonight, until the gorgeous blonde received a phone call that made her scowl. After she’d stormed over to Sander and dragged him away from their group, my gut had told me that this was my chance to strike, so I’d beckoned my best friend to follow me.
“Do you know who that girl is?” I ask Hugh when it appears the argument that I’m eavesdropping on is over.
He follows my head tilt, his eyes lighting up a second later.
A chuckle bubbles from the black depths of my soul when I spy in his gaze the same primal need that invigorates me . Born into a world of power, chaos, and sin, we’ve been encouraged to embrace our dark sides for as long as I can remember. We share a seething drive to hurt. To conquer. To possess. To break. It’s the bond that’s tied us together since we first rained down indiscriminate carnage as a pair of unruly ten-year-olds and got away with it.
If anything, our fathers encouraged our violence… until we made the cardinal mistake of drawing attention to ourselves. What started with us making bets over the speed with which we could make the three Du Bois sisters cry ended with a hefty bribe being paid to the mayor of Inadale and my grandfather being forced to step out of the shadowy underworld he rules to keep us out of prison.
“The pretty blonde?”
I nod, biting back a grin when he lets out a low whistle.
“She’s a fine piece of arse.” Hugh’s interest is piqued, exactly as I wanted. “The first such specimen we’ve seen to make it worth our while dragging our arses down here to mingle with the local peasants.”
“Smile and wave. Impress the people. Uphold the dignity of my position in this district.” Flapping my hand around like I’m impersonating the Pope, I mimic my dad’s terse instruction about how to act tonight. Hugh laughs at my antics, although his smirk dies when I add. “I’m calling dibs on the girl.”
Hugh punches me in the arm. “Bullshit, Alex. You can’t call dibs on a chick that fine. A beauty like her is the perfect prize for a bet. Name your price, arsehole… at least give me a sporting chance. It is the eve of a new year, after all.”
“She’s special.” From my slightly superior height, I sneer down at my only true friend. He’s as empty on the inside as I am, so he’s always keen to follow me headfirst into my latest morally corrupt scheme. “I have plans for her that don’t involve talking her into a quick fuck in the back of my ute before you can.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks between Sander and me, then pauses his perusal to regard me with a puzzled expression. “What’s her connection to Sander?”
“She’s his twin, Lilianna.”
He uncrosses his arms and uses his hands to trace the shape of a curvy woman in the air. “Well, Miss Lilianna has certainly filled out since we left high school.”
“That she has,” I muse as I run my eyes over her tall, lush figure.
From the top of her honey-blonde hair to her big tits and further down to the hips that curve in perfect harmony with her chest, there isn’t a thing about Lilianna Mayberry that doesn’t scream fuck me now. I sink my teeth with vicious intent into my bottom lip. The pain is my cue to my monster to stop thinking with our dick and engage our actual brain. To pull this off, we need the blood in my big head, not the little one.
“Stay here and watch the master at work.”
With a smile gracing my face when Hugh scoffs at my instruction, I turn to watch Lilianna stalking away from her brother. Her scowl of irritation and the defiance in her stride as she heads toward the restrooms tells me that my opening is finally here.
My approach is stealthy. I walk in measured steps that put us on a collision course. Lilianna’s studious examination of the ground beneath her feet, the intent glower creasing the smooth skin of her forehead, works in my favour. She doesn’t notice me until it’s too late.
Just like I planned.
When we hit, I ensure I take the brunt of the impact. I wrap my arms around her and yank her to the ground. With deliberate intent, I land on my back and pull her tight against me. Her warm breath rushes over my face. Minty air surrounds me, mixed with her unique smell. Floral with a hint of vanilla, I hold the delicate scent in my lungs.
Lilianna’s cheek rests on my chest, directly over my heart. I relish her touch for a second before I speak. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you coming.”
My voice is smooth. My manner that of a country gentleman. Startled, bright-blue eyes look up at me, and I have to stop myself from picking her up and running away with her. The woman sprawled on top of me is a contradiction—body of a whore, face of a Madonna. She’s made for sin yet awakens a never before encountered protective instinct in me.
Innocence and iniquity in one delectable package.
Her bewitching gaze almost makes me feel bad for even thinking of using her as a pawn in my payback against her twin.
Losing my edge to the surprising reaction I’m having to her gives Lilianna the chance to escape me. She puts her hands on the ground on either side of my chest and tries to push back to her feet. My hands have a mind of their own, taking hold of her waist and pulling her back down on me. The feel of her breasts pillowing against my chest steals my breath. My fingertips are electrified where they make contact with the smooth, warm skin above the waistband of her jeans, sending lightning bolts of arousal down the base of my spine.
As I indulge in her closeness, I try to prolong our connection.
“Are you okay?” I inquire, widening my eyes to disarm her. “We hit pretty hard.”
Anxiety thumps in my chest when she wriggles in my grasp until I either have to let go of her or risk her making a scene that draws her family’s attention to us. Lilianna rolls off me with an elegant economy of movement that has my cock grazing his head against my zipper. Her generous tits heave when she takes a moment to catch her breath. My gaze refuses to leave them, and I’m thankful that she doesn’t notice my blatant ogling.
When she stands, Lilianna holds her hand out in a silent offer of help and answers my earlier question. “I’m fine. Are you all right?”
I take her smaller hand in mine, suppressing a shudder when the electricity shoots through me again. As I stand, I crowd her space to see how she’ll react. She takes a step back from me, putting a socially acceptable amount of space between us, her reaction proving that she’s exactly what I thought—a pure, untouched angel.
My ego dances when I see her dilated pupils.
Lilianna Mayberry is affected by me.
“I’m fine as well,” I reply with a laugh.
The mirth that invades my answer is calculated. It’s the sexy chuckle that has every girl I know discarding her panties without another word required. On Lilianna it has the opposite effect. She tries to tug her hand out of mine. I hold tight, running my thumb over her knuckles instead. Disappointment overcomes me when she tries to pull her hand away again.
She’s not going to be as easy as I first thought.
Time for a new tactic.
Leaves and small sticks from the gravel verge are stuck to the back of my shirt. I turn to show them to her. “Or I would be, fine, if you’d be kind enough to get this crap off my back for me.”
I recover from my earlier disenchantment when I register Lilianna’s feather-light touch on my shirt. Damned if I’m not going to enjoy ruining her innocence.
“All done.” Two simple words are all I get out of her when she’s finished.
I’d be certain my newest tactic hadn’t worked and would be searching for another approach if I hadn’t caught the breathless catch in her voice at the end. When I turn to face her again, I make sure my lady-killer smile is safely tucked away. Lilianna needs a dose of my boyish charm to settle her skittishness. A beguiling grin settles in place. It’s fake—completely for show. I’m the most dangerous person this girl is going to encounter in her life.
She just doesn’t need to know that yet.
Lilianna’s answering smile is forced. Her cheeks blaze red as her embarrassment makes its way up her slender neck. I promise myself that, one day soon, I’m going to be tracing that path with my tongue… and then my teeth.
She gives me a jerky nod goodbye before turning to leave.
“Not so fast, little girl—we’re not finished with you yet,” my monster’s voice declares triumphantly in my head.
Seizing hold of her upper arm, I halt her retreat. A puzzled gaze meets mine, and her plump lips press together in a tight line that telegraphs her discomfort.
“You’re Lilianna Mayberry, aren’t you?” As I speak, I let my chocolate-brown eyes drill into her blue orbs with an intensity that should discomfort her. I expect Lilianna to wilt under my probing gaze, but she doesn’t. Instead, her shoulders straighten, and she openly glares at me.
Apparently, Lilianna has more spine than it appears at first glance.
I file that knowledge away for future reference.
With a curt shrug, she yanks her arm out of my grip. I feign offence at her hostility, then watch her face. Nothing changes. Lilianna simply nods her head to show that I have her name correct.
Again, I try to break down her defences. “You’re Sander’s sister?”
“That’s me. I prefer to be called Anna, though.” Her answer is short, but her expression softens at my mention of her brother. Mentally, I celebrate. We have identified Anna’s first weak spot—and it’s the same as Sander’s. “I’m actually his twin, even though no one can tell.”
She laughs as she plays with her hair. Her twin is as dark as she is fair, but they’re not as unalike as she pretends. Their bone structure is identical, as is their above-average height and exceptional good looks. The main difference is that Sander is very aware of his blessings while Anna appears to be oblivious.
“I’m Alexander Kingsley. I’ve seen you around, but you don’t come to parties like Sander does, so I’ve never officially met you.” I lay it on thick, ending my introduction with a wink and holding my hand out to her as I drawl, “Even though I’ve been dying to.”
Seizing on the opportunity offered by the slight change in her demeanour, I unleash my panty-melting smile and flirtatious charm. My reward is the confusion that clouds her eyes. Anna takes hold of my hand and shakes it. My teeth grind as I fight to hide my reaction to the charge that her touch sends through me. A sense of victory courses the same path as the electricity when I spy her eyes widening, and I realise she feels it as much as I do.
This tidbit is confirmed when Anna tries to drop my hand like it’s on fire. With perverse humour, I smile as I hold tight and prolong the handshake. She stops trying to remove her hand from my grip, which leaves us holding hands.
Her awkward attempt to break the tension I’m deliberately creating is adorable.
“Nice to officially meet you.” Her expression hasn’t changed now she knows my name. She shows no sign of recognising who I am. It’s a strange feeling, being anonymous, considering I’ve spent most of my life in the spotlight as the son of a politician and the grandson of a notorious mobster. “I don’t really party much. Although, I’m surprised you’re at the same parties as Sander—aren’t you a little old for…”
When Anna trails off, heat travels from her neck to settle in her cheeks again. My angelic little victim is proving to be judgmental and prudish—and it’s my new mission to fuck it right out of her. By the time I’m finished with her, she won’t have a critical bone in her bountiful body, because she’ll have had my cock jammed in every hole she possesses.
Marking her. Sullying her. Discarding her.
Breaking her spirit will be an added bonus to the humiliation I heap on Sander’s head when it’s made known that his precious sister is the latest indentation in my overburdened bedhead. My depraved musings are camouflaged by my laughter. I make it clear that I’m laughing at her lack of filter and not with her.
Instantly, her beautiful face turns a darker shade of red.
“Yes, I suppose I am. I’m twenty-two.” I watch her calculate our age gap with pleasure. Normally five years is enough to make me a taboo treat to the girls around here but not large enough to render me socially unacceptable to their parents. “There’s not much for me to do around here now I’ve finished up at university… plus most of the parties happen in our paddocks since I mostly organise them. You should come to the next one. I’ll look after you. Make sure you have a good time.” I wink at her once more, fighting the urge to drag her out of sight so I can screw her senseless when her cheeks flare into a deeper shade of scarlet.
“I’ll think about it.” Anna shuffles her feet, then meets my eyes with a steely resolve that won’t be there by the time I’m finished with her. “Anyhow, it was nice to meet you, but I need to get going. It’s nearly midnight, and I want to catch up with my friends before the fireworks.”
When I’m ready—which is after I’ve affected a bow and planted a kiss on her knuckles—I let her tug her hand from mine. “It was a pleasure having you run into me. I really hope you take me up on my offer. I think we could have a lot of fun together.”
The fake smile she plasters on her face tells me she’s close to telling me to piss off.
“Have a good night, Alex.” The irritated way she says my name rings in my ears as she spins on her heel and walks faster than necessary toward the restrooms.
Approaching me once Anna is out of sight, Hugh shakes his head. “Bad luck. Looks like she’s not interested.”
“You need to disappear.” My voice is harsh when I speak. My friend takes a step away from me, shock in his expression. “I’m about to put phase two into action.”
“Phase two?” he asks.
I point at the front of the town hall, where everyone gathers for the fireworks that Anna mentioned. “Wait out there.”
“Dude, she looks like a nice girl.” Hugh raises an uncustomary objection. “Plus, you know Sander will kill you if you mess with his sister. He’s already after you for spiking his drink the other night.”
Snorting as I bellow with laughter, I have to bend in half when my mirth becomes uncontrollable. Seriously? He chooses now to grow a conscience. “Do you think I care if Sander comes after me? Let him explain his positive methylamphetamine test and his violent tendencies to his new coaches.”
With one eye on the restrooms for Anna, I usher Hugh toward the front of the hall.
Like a little drama queen, he voices his reluctance to leave me alone with Anna. “She belongs to the Shamrocks—you’ll start a war if you lose control around her.”
“I’ll be fine.”
When he looks like he’s about to express his doubts again, I shove him hard. “Fuck off.”
He finally gets the message, dropping out of sight. I shake my head at his ridiculous behaviour. I’m not scared of Sander’s reaction or the MC. In fact, I welcome their attention. Because I want them to know that it was me who ruined his chance at a professional basketball career.
I don’t care what it takes or who gets caught in the crossfire.
If I can’t have my dream, why the hell should he?
The lights that illuminate the town hall are switched off in anticipation of the fireworks. Darkness descends, plunging the deserted area where I wait into pitch black. My position is hidden. Just like I wanted.
A dangerous lick of anticipation runs the length of my body when I see Anna emerge from the restrooms. She’s redone her hair; the golden locks that came free during our collision have been smoothed back into the bun she wears on her head. I find myself wondering what she’d look like with it down, the waves of burnished silk flowing around her shoulders and down her back. I want to know how her hair would feel wrapped around my wrist while I pump myself inside her flawless body.
A tiny sigh interrupts my lust filled thoughts, and I become aware that Anna hasn’t left the yard. She’s two metres away from me, leaning against the sandstone wall with her face tilted toward the dark sky. My expectation was for Anna to make her way through the yard to her friends and family. I was planning on intercepting her before she could get to them—a prudent consideration given her father’s the vice president of the Shamrocks as well as a well-known psycho.
Waiting, I mimic the angle of Anna’s head, only I’m not looking for the bursts of colour that are about to fill the sky. No, I’m silently thanking whichever dark lord has my contemptible interests on their agenda. Because having this gorgeous girl choose to willingly separate herself from the crazy men in her family is a definite sign that someone up there is looking out for me.
“Three, two, one. Happy New Year!” The countdown to the dawning of the brand-new year is shouted through a megaphone.
The night sky fills with a kaleidoscope of colour, and the loud banging and whistling of the fireworks disguises my approach from my unsuspecting victim.
With unyielding hands, I trap her between the wall and my body. Pausing for two seconds, I let myself luxuriate in her scent—orchids, vanilla, and alluring innocence—and then I kiss her.
My movements are sure, unheeding of her stiffening frame. When she gasps, I push my tongue between her lips and plunder the inner recesses of her mouth. I smile when Anna’s knee lifts, ready to take out my balls. Her reaction makes me grin. She doesn’t know who I am, exactly how big I am, what I can do to her—yet she’s ready to take defending herself into her own hands.
Did I call her untouched perfection?
I miscalculated. She may be untouched by the hands of a man, but she’s no pushover. I sense the wildness that flows inside her. It’s a contradiction to the innocence she projects. A complement to the irritation she showed toward me when I tried to press her buttons. With my last name, it’s not often anyone is brave enough to outwardly defy me.
So far, Anna’s proven to be more challenging than initially predicted.
This girl is going to become addictive if I’m not careful.
Kissing her harder, my muscles tense, ready to keep her under control if she uses that knee on me, I take my fill of her mouth. I’m not certain what makes her lower her leg, but I’m surprised when her body loosens, and she leans back against the building.
I pull my lips from hers and whisper, “Happy New Year, Anna.”
A sigh is the only response I receive for a long, drawn-out moment until, with a shaky murmur that has my cock trying to escape my pants, Anna returns my sentiments. “Happy New Year, Alex.”
That single sentence is all I need. It’s confirmation that I have her where I want her. Proof that Anna Mayberry just conceded defeat in the first battle of a war she doesn’t know she’s fighting.
My next actions appear coaxing. I nip at her bottom lip and use my body to invade her space even more. Right now, I’m letting her believe that she has a say in how this will play out. She doesn’t. My faux magnanimousness is simply the start of my next game. Now that I’ve made Anna accept my proximity, it’s time to make her believe that what happens next is her idea.
I use my strength to move her reluctant arms around my neck, then I pull her soft curves against me. The stiffness solely drains from her until she becomes pliable, both in body and emotion. A shudder runs the length of her frame when I kiss her again.
This time, she is a willing participant from the start. Her tongue touches mine. Her fingers tangle softly in the hair at my nape. She tastes me, experiments with me. All the while exposing her innocence. Timid. Tentative. Testing. Anna’s inexperience is clear in every move she makes.
The lights in the yard are switched back on, and the bulb directly above us illuminates her blonde hair in such a way that it resembles a halo. Anna falters, but I don’t let her stop. Instead, I distract her with fleeting touches, making sure that she’s paying little mind to who can see us, and once I’m certain that both Hugh and my father have seen us together, I let her go.
A hollow emptiness invades my chest as I lose control of her. I push the feeling away to smile down at the beautiful girl. The flush on her cheeks and the redness around her lips from my kiss awakens a ferocity in me that is foreign.
I don’t want to let her go.
I want to keep her.
If I could, she’d be thrown over my shoulder and whisked away from every other person who inhabits this earth. I’d lock her up, somewhere underground, free of outside influences, and make her dependent on me for her next breath, sunlight, food—everything she needs to exist.
Strategically, what I do next is completely wrong.
But it’s the only thing that tames the monster in my head as he demands I satisfy his craving.
I bite Anna’s shoulder.
And, it takes every ounce of the chemical restraint that grips me to stop myself from sinking my teeth through the thin cotton of her shirt. I want to penetrate her skin. To taste her blood. To hurt her. To do whatever it takes to make her accept that she belongs to me. It’s a battle I come close to losing, but eventually, I swallow down my need and stake my claim verbally instead.
“You’re so beautiful, and you’re going to be all mine. I’m going to make sure of it.”
I walk away before she can answer. As I go, my monster screams that I’ve made a fatal error. I should have kept her with me. Stolen her, if necessary. Hidden her. Locked her away from the world that’s going to warn her to stay away from me.
To calm myself, I melt into the shadows to watch my unsuspecting victim throughout the rest of the evening. The madness that fuels me finally ends when I see Anna press her fingers against her lips like she’s reliving my kiss. Solid in the knowledge that I’ve made my mark on her, I head for my ute before I give into temptation and allow the slipping control I have on my monster to ruin the progress I’ve made with my prey.
Chapter two
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” My mother screeches once the butler has shut the front door behind me. “It’s bad enough your father constantly embarrasses me—now I must suffer humiliation at your hands too?”
Her gin sloshes over the sides of her martini glass, and she stares at the splashes the liquor has made on the marble floor with more longing and love than she’s ever given me. I pass my jacket to Phillips with a weary sigh, nodding once when he meets my eyes. The wry smile that I exchange with the butler before he hangs my jacket says it all.
Here we go again…
Elizabeth Kingsley is drunk as a skunk and ready to pick apart every move her only son made during his interactions with the local plebs tonight.
I try to skirt the mess she’s made on the floor. Of course, letting me pass without an argument would be too much to ask of her. My mother takes hold of my wrist and yanks me to a stop. I could easily overpower her and keep moving. I don’t. Because I know that not only will she follow me to my wing of the mansion, but her alcohol-induced diatribe will increase exponentially in length with each extra step I force her to take.
My eyes narrow to slits, and she warps in my vision. I let the full force of my displeasure show in both my gaze and my tone when I finally give her the attention she’s demanding. “What are you so upset about?”
The hurt in her expression used to prick at my conscience—now it simply pisses me off. At home, my mother is a pathetic caricature of the woman she pretends to be when we’re in public. The perfectly coiffed hairdo she wore tonight has disintegrated into a rat’s nest on her head. Her eye makeup is smeared down her cheeks, and her gaze is glassy from the liquor she’s poured down her throat.
As my mother catches on to my thoughts, she smooths her hair with a trembling hand, then she licks her lips, and the tirade begins. “I want to know what you were doing kissing that girl? I want to know why you would listen to your father and pursue someone like her? She isn’t worth your attention. She’ll ruin you, Alexander, with her slutty ways and her filthy family. They’re poison, they destroy everything.”
It would seem that I had more witnesses to my rebellion than first assumed.
“It’s none of your business.” My reply is intended to cut. I want her to hurt. “I can kiss whomever I choose, fuck whomever I want, until it’s time to settle down and claim my inheritance. Grandfather made that very clear.”
The mention of her tyrant of a father has my mother’s eyes darting around the foyer as if she expects him to appear out of nowhere. The spectre of my grandfather looms large in this palatial house, even though he hasn’t set foot on the premises since my parents’ wedding. On that day, he passed the mantle of ownership to my father, disappearing from sight, so that his reputation wouldn’t smear the political clout he’d just bought himself in exchange for my mother’s freedom. After that, my mother’s childhood home quickly became a tomb that encased her crumbling marriage.
Why two people who loathe each other as much as they do continue to keep up the ruse of marital bliss is beyond me. Well, not entirely. Money and power make for familiar bedfellows. My mother wants to keep her share of her family money, while my father is addicted to the power that remaining married to the sole Maddison heir brings him.
“Bravo. Bravo.”
The devil himself walks through the entrance. The monument to the wealth and power I will inherit seems to shudder with the knowledge that its evil master is home. My father claps his hands, slow and mocking. A face that is an older replica of my own is screwed up in a comedic rendition of a proud parent.
An outsider would buy his display.
My mother and I don’t—we know that he’s never pleased.
Not with us, at least.
“It was quite a sight. My son slumming it with the daughter of the leader of the local biker degenerates.” Dad’s lips twist into a grimace. “You gave the gossips plenty to talk about. My ears have been burning all night.”
I step away from my mother, determined to face this without her support. Not that she’s likely to offer any. Mother is now a statue, wilting under the weight of the tension my father’s appearance brings to the room. With my arms crossed over my chest, I arch an eyebrow in his direction. “They’re probably burning from all the gossip over your puppy dog-like behaviour around Charlotte Hannaford.”
When his face turns a scorching scarlet that telegraphs his growing rage, I continue, “Was that you trotting behind her with your wallet open, snivelling like a fool—” I smirk. “—‘Why yes, Charlotte. Let me take those trays from you. Of course, Charlotte, I’d be happy to donate to the fund for the new children’s playground.’” Cocking my head to the side, I peer at him with mocking mirth in my eyes. “Or was that some other lovesick fool?”
My scornful rendition of his behaviour tonight makes the tips of his ears redden. The explosion that I know is coming doesn’t stop me. I relish making him lose control while I keep my equilibrium. He hates it—which is all the more reason to keep winding him up. In truth, it’s the only side effect from my medication that I enjoy. “Honestly, Dad? Don’t you think it’s a bit rich for you to lecture me when you’re unable to contain your drooling around your girlfriend from twenty-five years ago?”
The reaction I was working toward doesn’t eventuate and an icy shiver of foreboding runs down my spine when he simply grins at me. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so interested in what the gossips have to say about me. I’d be more worried about how you’re going to deal with Brutus and his boys once they find out you had your hands on Lilianna. If you don’t devise a suitable explanation, you’re in for a world of hurt, my boy.”
Dad holds his hand out to my mother. “Lizzie, I think it’s time for you to turn in for the night.”
She places her palm in his, questioning eyes moving between the pair of us. “Aren’t you going to forbid him from seeing this girl again? She’s hardly in our circle—”
“I am not forbidding anything.” My father cuts her off before she can get going. “Why would I? I know firsthand how enjoyable it can be to take a walk on the wild side before settling down with someone useful.”
The jab isn’t subtle. Neither is my mother’s reaction to his comment about Charlotte. Pain of a magnitude that I can’t comprehend in my dead-hearted state fills her face. If I could find it in me to push past the numbness to care, I’d feel bad for her. But I don’t. The specifics of my father’s relationship with Charlotte Hannaford are a closely guarded secret, but it’s clear to me that her existence is a thorn in both my parents’ sides.
For my father, she’s an object of desire.
To my mother, she’s a reminder of her failure.
Dad ignores my mother’s misery and turns his full attention to me. “If you listen to one thing that I tell you, make it this. Do. Not. Allow this girl to run you in circles. Put her in her place and do it quickly. If you can bring her to heel, then you might succeed in snatching the payback you deserve and fulfilling the obligations of your last name with a woman you can stomach by your side. I failed to do this—I implore you to listen to me for once.”
Usually, I’d tell him where to shove off.
This time, his advice makes sense.
The small taste I had of Anna tonight was enough to whet my appetite for more. That in itself is not normal—I prefer to screw their brains out one time and then make them leave.
Hump ’n dump if you want to be crass.
Anna roused something in me I thought I had under control.
Being near her tempted me to set my monster free.
Which is strange since I was certain that my brush with the law the first and last time that I let him off his leash had scared me straight. If the threat of a criminal record wasn’t a big enough incentive to control myself, then my grandfather’s promise to disinherit me if I got caught again should have been. It’s a tightrope I walk, one I thought I was expert at.
“I’m listening,” I tell my dad. “How exactly would this work?”
His eyes light up, the small nod he gives me conveying the promise that once he’s put my mother to bed, he will track me down to talk. As they ascend the curved marble staircase, I watch them leave with a sick hope in my heart. My mother’s back is straight, worry stiffens her posture. I know she’s concerned about the advice my father will impart, yet I can’t find it in me to heed her caution.
If I had to choose between my parents, Dad would win hands down.
My mother is weak. My father is dangerous. Menace calls to me much more than fragility.
Eventually, I notice that his spine is equally rigid as my mother’s—for opposite reasons. It’s clear that he has a different take on this situation. His stance telegraphs his arrogant satisfaction. It buoys me, and I stand taller in turn. For the first time in my life, I have the chance to make one of my parents proud of me.
Maybe?
Want to keep reading?
Craving Control is in ebook format and available in paperback, hardcover, and large print at most book retailers.