Chapter 9

The hallway on the fifth floor was dimly lit. No sounds came from any of the rooms they passed. "Where are we?" Shania dared to ask.

"Unless we're overcrowded, this floor is reserved for me and my people."

Frowning, Shania asked the obvious question. "But you have the penthouse. Why do you need another apartment?"

Khalid unlocked a door and, pushing her inside, turned and locked it again. He took his time answering her question, unzipping his leather coat and pulling it off his broad shoulders. Shania shivered, sharply reminded of his superior size, outlined clearly in a dark T-shirt and jeans.

"I bring people that have annoyed me here, to the fifth floor, so we may talk in relative comfort." Crossing to the bar, he said, "This is also where I bring my women so I can fuck them without having to take them into my home."

Shania clutched the back of the couch hard, surprised by how much his words hurt her. She hated thinking of that hard body having sex with other women and she hated even more the thought that he brought her here. "And which category do I fall into?" she asked shakily.

Khalid poured himself a shot of tequila and tossed it back without blinking. "Both," he snarled.

"So what are you going to do to me then?" she asked bravely, standing up straighter. "Beat me or fuck me?"

He took another shot, slammed the glass back down and stalked toward her. "Both."

Shania stood her ground, glaring up at him as he stopped inches away. He gazed on her with such scorn that she wondered if he was thinking of all the money she had cost him. He probably regretted it now.

"Stop looking at me like that!" she burst out, putting her hands against his chest and shoving. He didn't move. "Do your worst, I can't possibly hate you more than I do right now!"

"Oh, I think you can," he answered back, stepping closer to her.

Shania gasped as he reached out, grabbed her by the arm and flung her around so she faced away from him. The tops of her thighs pressed against the back of the couch, the glow of the city twinkled in the distance through the window. He pressed hard against her back, moulding his thighs against hers and his chest to her back. She felt every inch of his hot, heavy body covering hers. His hands gripped her waist, holding her ass firmly in the cradle of his thighs. She felt the heat of his hard penis pressing against her through layers of fabric.

Shania moaned, both in fear and pleasure. He still wanted her as much as he ever did. Her body responded to the insistent hardness of his, pressing her back into his chest. He swept a hand up her side, across her shoulder, into her thick hair and pulled her head back sharply. The small bolt of pain made her blink and then sigh. His other arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her up onto her toes so her head was pressed back into his shoulder, her throat bared to his mouth.

"Khalid!" She gasped as his lips and teeth explored the flesh that was bared to him. Sweet, tight sensations spiralled from her neck, down to her nipples and further.

He caressed her for several minutes, both of their breathing growing heavier, more urgent. With a groan of frustration he stopped moving, holding her tightly against his body. Even lost in the feeling of his touch, Shania noticed the shift in him from erotic back to angry. She stiffened, knowing that she wasn't going to be punished with belly melting kisses. She had pissed off a very powerful underworld boss. He didn't have to say the words, his body spoke to her. Khalid wanted her to pay for her infraction.?

She swallowed a scream when he suddenly took a step back from her, grabbed a fistful of the back of her jacket and forced her facedown over the back of the couch. She fought against the vulnerable position, but his strength was far superior to hers. She froze in terror when she felt him open his knife and hold it against her back. He yanked the knife through her jacket and shirt, parting the fabric with appalling ease.

Shania held still, not wanting to get cut. When he finished, he pulled the tattered bits of cloth away from her smooth skin and flung them into the corner as though he was offended by her wearing them. He pressed the knife against the small of her back and, holding her still with one hand, cut the belt she wore. He yanked the denim jeans down her legs and forced her to step out of them, leaving her in only panties and bra.

She turned to plead with him, but stopped cold. His dark, satanic eyes swept every inch of her skin, caressing the expensive white lace panty and bra set he had bought her. It was breathtaking against her dark skin. She held a hand out to him. "Please, Khalid, don't."

He laughed bitterly. "Don't what, Shania? Don't take what belongs to me? You should have thought of that before you ran from the life I was offering you." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, you were always living on borrowed time. Now we can get down to it, and I can fuck you until I'm tired of your ass and then send it away or sell it to clear up your debt."

Shania stared at him in shocked silence. The crude brutality of his words cut through her, extinguishing her arousal.

Heedless of the knife he held in his hand, Shania hit him with a closed fist against his jaw so hard that he rocked back on his heels. "You miserable asshole! I always knew you were some lowlife scum. You might pretend you're better than all this," she swept her hand around the room, "but I know better! I know exactly who you are!"

He swung his head back around, eyes glowing with wrath. Shania tried to turn and run from him, terrified of his retaliation, but he wrestled her to the floor until she was facedown underneath him. The knife fell beside them and bounced under the couch. She screamed as he unbuckled his belt against her hips. So certain that she was about to be brutally raped, Shania was completely unprepared when she felt the sting of leather rake across her bare shoulder and down her back.

A second after the painful sensation began to fade to a sting and realization set in, another arc of heat scored her back. Shania curled into a ball on the carpet, attempting to protect her front, as Khalid continued to whip her with his belt. She barely noticed when he stopped. The sting from each wound flared with agonizing clarity. Her brain finally registered that the beating had stopped when he pulled her up by an arm.

She cried out as her back stretched and she stumbled against him. Khalid held her tightly. Her accusing, tear-soaked eyes sought his. She thought she glimpsed a moment of regret before his eyes hardened once more and he dragged her with him into the bedroom.