The Butcher (Fifth Republic Series Book 1)
The Butcher: Chapter 15

Be there in 10 mins.

I took a breath when I saw his message, standing in the black dress with the enormous slit up the thigh. It was the most expensive piece of clothing I owned at the moment, straight from Versace. I paired it with heels from Saint Laurent. I wore a diamond necklace, but it was fake, and I hoped no one would be snooty enough to notice the difference.

I hadn’t wanted to spend more of his money, so I hadn’t bought a coat to go with it. I would just be cold during the walk from the car to the entry doors. And I could always move in closer to Bastien if I needed warmth.

I left the apartment and stepped out of the double doors to the building. It was a Saturday evening, so the sidewalk was packed with people heading to dinner or drinks. My heels were wobbly on the cobblestone as I made it to the edge of the sidewalk.

The SUV rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of me.

Bastien appeared in a tuxedo, his blond hair slicked back, looking like a million bucks.

More like a billion.

He stepped out, and he looked me over appreciatively. “Money well spent.” He nodded for me to step inside, and when I did, he gave me a gentle spank on the ass. He climbed into the chair beside me then moved his hand to my thigh, his fingertips just underneath my dress, his arm so big and long that he could reach across the aisle with ease.

I opened my clasp and pulled out the remaining bills that I hadn’t spent. “This is what was left over.”

He didn’t even look at it. “Keep it.”

“Bastien.” I continued to hold out the cash because all I wanted from him was him, not his money. I’d only bought these things because I had to. They would sit in my closet and probably never be worn again because I didn’t have the lifestyle to support it.

He gave a sigh before he took the cash and shoved it in the pocket behind the driver’s seat, probably because it was too thick to place in his wallet or he really just didn’t care about the money at all. His hand returned to my thigh, his fingers higher up my dress until he touched my panties underneath.

He looked out the window.

I watched the side of his face, studied the hardness of his jawline, the cords that popped in his neck, all the features that revved my engine louder than the SUV we rode in. His pretty eyes were a contradiction to the rest of him, the only softness he possessed. His jaw was clean because he shaved for the event, and he wore a black watch on his wrist, something I’d never seen him wear before.

“Any pointers?” I asked.

He turned back to look at me. “Just be yourself.”

“Then I’m going to be a dumb girl who doesn’t know shit about politics.”

He smirked. “I’m not bringing you to talk about politics.”

“Then why are you bringing me?”

His blue eyes continued to look into mine, to spear my soul with their subtle intensity. “Because you’re my woman.” Like everything else he said, he said it with confidence, not the least bit concerned that I would correct him.

I had been more than somebody’s woman once. I had been their wife—and they’d cheated on me for years. I’d trusted that man implicitly, wouldn’t have thought it for a second, didn’t replace his late nights out remotely suspicious—and I’d been made a fool.

I didn’t want to be a fool ever again.

He seemed to read the hesitancy in my gaze because he followed it with, “I said what I said.”

We pulled up to Luxembourg Palace, a place I’d only seen from passing by in a cab, and Bastien got out first before he took my hand and helped me step out in the sky-high heels. Instead of moving his hand to the small of my back or not touching me at all, he continued to hold my hand as we crossed the pathway over the manicured lawn and approached the three-story palace made of stone.

We were ushered into the ballroom with a crowd of people, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling while waiters offered flutes of champagne and canapés. It was an enormous room, the perfect size to hold a wedding with five hundred guests. Tables were covered in champagne-pink tablecloths with enormous centerpieces filled with tall lilies. A four-piece quartet played music from the corner, and the men were dressed in tuxedos and the women in beautiful gowns.

But none of the men or women were as beautiful as Bastien. He was a towering man with his height, and he carried his muscular body with a stiffness that showed the hardness of his spine. His composure was relaxed, like he was in his element in a room full of the aristocracy. A waiter passed by, and he grabbed a flute of champagne for me.

“Thank you.” I took a drink and noticed he didn’t take one for himself.

It wasn’t long after that that the mingling began. Men who were obviously acquainted with Bastien came over for small talk, jokes about other people not in the vicinity, and a bit of politics.

Bastien kept his hand on the small of my back as he introduced me. “This is my woman, Fleur. Fleur, these are some of the members of the Senate.” He introduced each one of them by name, even remembering the names of their wives, who hardly said two words.

I’d told him I wanted to keep it casual, and just as I’d assumed, he basically disregarded what I’d requested. I was whisked away into a relationship that I hadn’t agreed to, and that meant there were expectations and a certain degree of trust, trust that I’d never consented to give. Bastien was a man of the shadows, a man who would always be committed to his work above everything else, a bad boy who killed people for a living. Adrien was a normal guy I’d thought I could trust, so Bastien was even less trustworthy.

How had I ended up exactly where I didn’t want to be?

We took our seats at a table, the seating chart on a big poster in the entryway, and we were surrounded by boring and pretentious men from the Senate and National Assembly—but Luca was also there with his date.

Luca gave me a cold reception, a nod in acknowledgment of my existence. “This is Diana.” He gestured to the woman with him, a beautiful brunette who looked like she belonged in a magazine or on a fashion billboard. Far too beautiful to be introduced only by her name. Luca and his date went to the bar to grab something stronger than the champagne distributed on the tables.

“Your friend doesn’t like me.”

Bastien’s hand went to my thigh under the table. “He doesn’t like anybody.”

I appreciated that he didn’t lie to me, but the truth still stung a little bit. “That seems to be true, considering the way he treats his girlfriend.”

“She’s not his girlfriend.”

“Then who is she?”

He shrugged. “A woman he has in his pocket.”

“Why bring someone anyway?”

“It’s all about optics. You earn more respect if you’ve got a beautiful woman on your arm.”

“Do I earn you respect? Because I’m not the bombshell she is.”

Bastien scoffed, a handsome smile on his face. “She’s so thin you can see her hip bones through her dress and the vertebrae up her spine—and her tits are fake. You, on the other hand, are the finest piece of woman I’ve ever seen.” He moved his arm over the back of my chair and gave me that intense gaze that could win him any hand in poker. “I’ll take you to my office and prove it.”

I felt the heat burn underneath my skin, bringing a sting to my cheeks. I broke eye contact when his confidence made my strength shatter. I’d never felt safer with anyone, but that also made me feel more vulnerable in numerous ways.

“Stop doing that.”

I turned back to him. “What?”

“I take a step forward, you take a step back,” he said. “We’ve done it at least ten times now.”

My heart started to race when I realized his actions were completely intentional. When I told him how I felt, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, so he disregarded it. “I need to use the restroom.” I left my chair and crossed the ballroom until I exited through the double doors. The bathrooms were located in the main entryway, so I took my time walking there, taking advantage of the moment to process the adrenaline that pounded in my heart.

The bathroom was empty and I didn’t need to use the toilet, so I took a seat in one of the armchairs near the vanity where women could touch up their makeup. I sat there and crossed my legs, taking a break from the invisible pressure Bastien applied to me.

I sat there for a couple minutes, knowing I shouldn’t linger too long. Otherwise, he would come looking for me. Wouldn’t be surprised if he let himself in to the women’s restroom to check. I looked in the mirror and fixed my hair before I stepped back into the main room.

I halted when I came face-to-face with the man I wanted to avoid.

His eyes weren’t intense the way they had been before, so possessive they were physical. Now, they were just angry, blue flames in those pretty eyes. “Let me explain to you what casual is. Casual is a random text from someone you haven’t seen in two weeks, asking for a hookup. Casual is wearing a condom. Casual is fucking several people at once. Casual is not texting me every day, is not telling me you miss me, not sleeping over and having pancakes the next morning. So, what do you want from me, sweetheart?” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was so powerful it felt like he screamed. “Because I haven’t been with anyone else since the first time I saw you, but I can change that as soon as tonight if you’d like.”

I inhaled a sharp breath like he’d slapped me.

“I asked you a question.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“You think this is yelling?” He cocked his head slightly, his eyes growing angrier.

“Don’t threaten me.”

“Do you want me to fuck other people or not?”

I stormed off, heading to the main door so I could get out of there.

He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back to him with immense force, like I weighed nothing to him. “You can leave when this is finished.” He stepped in my way as he let me go, his back to the main doors, the security guys pretending like they didn’t notice the commotion.

“I told you I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I’m not even divorced yet⁠—”

“Are you over him?”

“What?”

“You heard what I said.” He crowded me. “Are you still hung up on the little bitch who stabbed you in the back?”

“No.” I’d left our home heartbroken, but the depth of Adrien’s deception was so deep that I couldn’t feel anything for him. All the love I’d had for that man just died. I’d realized I didn’t know the man I was married to.

“Then what is the problem?” He continued to speak to me in a vicious tone, like I was the one in the wrong when he wouldn’t respect my boundaries.

“I told you I’m not ready for anything serious, and you’re going around telling people that I’m your woman.”

“You are my woman,” he snapped. “You fuck my brains out and hold on to me all night like I’m your goddamn teddy bear. Is it normal for you to go around town and fuck random guys without wearing anything if you aren’t their woman?”

“No—”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we met?”

I couldn’t even imagine it. “No…”

His stare pierced mine for several hard seconds. “Do you want me to sleep with other people?”

I refused to answer, refused to dig this hole deeper.

“Your poker face is shit, you know that?” He clenched his jaw tighter when I didn’t answer. But then it slowly relaxed, his eyes shifting back and forth between mine as he read me like words on a white page. “You’re scared.”

My lungs sucked in a gulp of air, his fingers replaceing the wound and digging deep.

“I’m not him.”

My eyes flicked away, the button to my trigger tapped.

“I’m not him.”

I was forced to look at him again, gripped by the power of his voice.

“I understand you’re coming out of a long-term relationship that ended in a dumpster fire. I understand you haven’t had time to heal everything he’s broken. But I’m not asking you to marry me or move in with me or do anything you don’t want to do. But I won’t be disrespected either. You’re either in this with me, or I’m gone.”

I swallowed because the idea of losing him was devastating.

His eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “I’m your man—and you’re my fucking woman. Period. Do you understand me?” His ruthless eyes continued to burn into mine with the viciousness of a mountain lion.

“I—I don’t want to get hurt again.” Self-loathing washed over me, hating myself for allowing myself to be weak in front of another person. I only showed the depth of my despair to myself—and myself alone.

He sheathed his tone slightly. “I would never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“You’re dangerous. You kill people. You’re not the kind of man to commit to a woman for long. You aren’t the kind of man to get married or have children⁠—”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

“Am I wrong? I saw you in that bar, and I wanted you. And you’ve been the greatest high I’ve ever known. I’ve wanted time to stand still so we can be this way forever, but I know it can’t stay like this and it’s going to end and I don’t want to get my hopes up. So when you say shit like I’m your woman, you’re just making it harder⁠—”

“Why does it have to end?”

“Because you’re going to get tired of me and replace me with someone else. Because you’ll meet a girl at a bar, and I’ll disappear from your mind. You’ll tell me how much I mean to you and then turn around and stick your dick in someone else.” I felt the hot tears in the back of my eyes, feeling so fucking worthless, feeling all the damage Adrien had caused. “And then I’ll be crushed again, crushed more than I am right now. It’s just easy to keep things casual, to make sure that I have no expectations, that I don’t trust you, so you can’t hurt me the way he crushed me.” The tears came and slipped down my cheeks, and I was fucking humiliated.

“Sweetheart.” His voice was gentle like a fall breeze. His hands were on me, one on my cheek so his thumb could wipe the fallen tear. His lips caught the other while he buried his hand in my hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I kept my eyes closed and grabbed his wrist with both hands, remembering the night he’d come to the bar and held my hand and said the same words. As long as my eyes shut out the world, I wouldn’t have to face it. I could hide until it went away.

He waited for me to look at him again on my own. “Sweetheart.”

“I—I’m not ready to be in a relationship.”

“Look at me.”

“No…”

“I know how brave you are,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”

I took a breath before I opened my eyes, feeling how wet they were when they were exposed to the air.

He continued to look down at me, his eyes soft and kind. “If I walked away right now and took someone else home, would it hurt you?”

Just the thought made my heart drop into my stomach. I couldn’t answer the question with words, so I just nodded.

“Then it’s too late to turn back,” he said. “So, be with me.”

I’d ended up in the corner I tried to evade—and I was fucking terrified.

“I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you. Now be mine.”

“I’m so fucking scared⁠—”

“I’m just asking you to acknowledge what we already are. It doesn’t need to go further than that. We can take this as slow as you want. We can stay this way forever if that’s what you want. But I can’t do this if you won’t give me the respect I deserve. So, give me what I want—you—or I walk.”

My eyes were focused on his chin and neck, staring at the hard muscles of his jawline and neck. My hands continued to grip his wrist as I felt his palm against my cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then you’re mine. Say it.”

My eyes remained down.

His palm lifted my chin and forced my stare to his. “Say it.”

I got lost in those blue eyes every time I looked at them. Got lost in this man whenever he walked through the door. He was the sexiest man I’d ever met, and the second he walked into my life, he set everything on fire and I burned in his flames. “You’re mine…and I’m yours.”

He didn’t ask me where I wanted to go. Just decided we would go to his place.

After our fight, we’d returned to our seats at the table, and he was all over me, his hand either on my thigh, draped over the back of the chair, or he kissed me right in front of everyone, really kissed me, not an innocent peck on the lips.

He gave me his jacket when he knew I was cold, so I sat there and drowned in the material, his big hand so far up my dress that his fingers were hooked into my panties. His resentment evaporated after the fight, and now he wanted me even more when the barriers were removed.

I knew I’d just gotten myself into a precarious position, in a relationship with a man whom I knew I should avoid. If I hadn’t just been looking for good sex with a hot guy, I would have steered clear of him in the first place. But as the weeks passed and I got attached, deeply attached, my nails so deep under the skin they hit bone, I’d sealed my fate. Now, I was in a relationship with the most dangerous man in Paris.

We entered his home and took the elevator to the top floor to his bedroom. When we walked inside, his butler had already started the fire in the fireplace and placed a tray of dessert and champagne on the table for us to enjoy.

Bastien immediately undressed like he was anxious to get rid of all the clothing, the suspenders over his shoulders, the trousers, the bow tie around his thick neck. He unbuttoned his white shirt and yanked it off his big arms until his true form was revealed, bare skin over bulging muscles and marked in black ink. He left everything on the floor like it was Gerard’s problem to deal with tomorrow. He stood in just his boxers, the cotton taut over his tight ass, the powerful muscles hugging his spine.

I was still cold from standing outside waiting for our driver in the long line of cars, so I moved to the fire while wearing his jacket, letting the heat warm my frozen skin.

He stepped out of the bedroom a moment later, his blond hair still slicked back, his eyes sharp like he wasn’t the least bit tired from all the small talk and networking bullshit. “I can warm you up, sweetheart.” He returned to the bedroom without waiting for my answer.

I followed him a second later, placing his jacket over the armchair before I slipped off my heels. When I flattened my feet against the floor, I let out a moan, my toes releasing all the pain they’d been harboring all night. I unzipped the dress and delicately placed it over the chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

I’d barely turned toward the bed when I smacked into his hard chest like a concrete wall. His big hands gripped my ass, and he lifted me into him, the warmth of his body matching the fire in the other room. He carried me to the bed as he stared into my eyes. Instead of throwing me onto the mattress, he rolled me onto my back and moved over me, his thick body warmer than any blanket. He positioned me underneath him before he hooked his thumbs into the straps of my black thong and pulled it free. He was already naked, his dick hard like it’d been all night, every time he pressed against me.

He folded me underneath him, locking both of his wrists behind my knees before he ground his length over my sex and rubbed it against my clit, his hungry dick harder than any vibrator I’d ever used. His blue eyes were on me, watching my reaction to him, enjoying the sight of me below him. “You’re holding yourself back. Why?” The man had eyes that could see through walls, pierce through hearts.

It was easier to embrace him with passion when I could lie to myself, when I could say it meant nothing, when I knew it would end and I was okay with it. But now, I was very aware of the way I felt for him, that the moment I lost him, I would be devastated. “Because I’m scared…”

“Why?” He brought his face closer to mine, our lips almost touching. He continued to grind into me, smearing himself in the arousal that he squeezed from my slit.

I cupped his face in my hands as I looked into his pretty but hard blue eyes, those of a man who had taken all of me at first glance, who had become a lifeline when I drowned in the Atlantic alone. “Because you’re too good to be true.”

Something like that would usually make him smirk playfully, with a hint of arrogance, but the smile never came. Instead, he continued his hard stare before he shifted his attention to my lips. He closed the distance and kissed me softly, the softest kiss he’d ever given me. A light touch of our mouths. A gentle embrace from a rugged giant. The slowness continued as he shifted his hips and guided the head of his dick to my folds. He found the entrance to my slit and sank in as he kept kissing me, his dick pushing through my tightness until he stopped before I became uncomfortable with too much of his length.

He started to rock into me as his kisses continued, our bodies moving together with aching languidness, like this was my first time ever and he was handling it like a gentleman. His kisses became more passionate and possessive, and soon, he devoured me as his thrusts grew in intensity. He lifted himself over me, his wrists still locked behind my knees, pounding into me with even strokes.

I gripped his forearms as I felt him stretch me over and over, the biggest dick that had ever been inside me. I panted and moaned, the slickness starting and continuing between my legs, dripping down my crack to his sheets below. I already wanted to come, and my body tightened in preparation for it, knowing it was looming over the horizon. Adrien had made me come most of the time, but there were plenty of times when it didn’t happen because I wasn’t feeling it or the position didn’t feel right…lots of reasons. But with Bastien, he delivered every single time, multiple times.

“Fuck, I love watching you come.”

I wasn’t quite there, but he somehow knew I was right on the edge. He could read my body, read the heat in my eyes, feel the tightness that squeezed him with an iron grip. His words, his voice, the sexy look on his face, made me come and shed tears that trailed down my cheeks. My hips tried to buck against him but his wrists kept me in place, and he increased his pace at my enthusiasm, his chest turning red from a flush of arousal. “Bastien…”

“You’re my woman. Say it.”

I didn’t hesitate, swept up in the blissful throes of passion that scorched me from head to toe. “I’m your woman,” I said breathlessly.

“Damn right, you are.” He fucked me harder, pumping into me and giving me his full length, finishing me off while he reached his end. The sexiest moan came from his clenched jaw, his pumps suddenly slowing down as he began to fill me with the load he’d carried in his barrel all night. “This pussy is fucking mine.”

He slowed down until he came to a stop, his dick still hard and stiff inside me. He dropped his head and kissed me again, kissed the corner of my mouth and then my neck, blanketing me with his affection, the sweat from his skin, his smell. Then he began again, fucking me hard right from the start, folding me even more underneath him, his balls tapping against my ass as he screwed me like he hadn’t just done so. “Mine.”

When I woke up the next morning, it was raining.

I could hear it against the roof, hear it pelt the windows. I listened to it for a while, treasuring the peace it brought me as I slowly regained consciousness. When I found the strength to open my eyes, I looked at my world, saw the curtains closed over the windows. My phone was on the nightstand, and I tapped the screen, seeing it was already after noon.

Fuck, I really slept.

Bastien wasn’t there, which wasn’t surprising. He’d probably already worked out, showered, and had breakfast. I got out of bed, stole one of his shirts from his drawer, then opened the doors to the other room.

The fire burned in the hearth, and the TV showed a game, Manchester United versus Southampton. Bastien was in just his sweatpants on the couch, watching the game intently like he had money on it. “Fucking twats don’t know how to kick a damn ball.” He must have already eaten because he had a glass of scotch in front of him.

I stepped farther into the room. “Morning. Or afternoon, I guess.”

When he turned to look at me, the annoyance over the progress of the game immediately evaporated. “It’s a beautiful morning whenever you walk into the room.” He wore the most handsome smile as he left the couch and came to me. His thick arm circled me and brought me close as he kissed me hard on the mouth. Then he gave my ass a hard squeeze and a playful spank. “Pancakes?”

“You haven’t eaten?”

“I already had breakfast. Couldn’t wait.”

“Then don’t worry about getting me anything.”

“I need to eat lunch anyway. So, pancakes or something more traditional?”

It was past one. I’d already taken up most of his day hanging around. “I should get going, so don’t worry about me.”

He stilled, his soft stare slowly hardening to the blunt side of a hammer. “It’s Sunday. You have somewhere to be?”

“No. I just want to get out of your hair⁠—”

“Let me save you some time,” he snapped. “If I want you to leave, I’ll tell you. Alright?”

“I assumed that you have plans or work.”

“And if that’s the case, I’ll tell you.” He was a teddy bear one moment, then a fire-breathing dragon the next. “I want you here in my t-shirt on the couch, watching TV in front of the fire, fucking in the armchair, napping whenever we feel like it, and having Gerard bring us whatever the fuck we want. Is that a problem?”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“You’ll never know what I sound like when I yell because I would never yell at you,” he said. “You’re my goddamn woman, so start acting like it. I want you here—always. Live here for all I fucking care.” He continued to stare me down with a jawline that was as sharp as the edge of a blade. “You understand me?”

I didn’t know how a man who was so drop-dead gorgeous could possibly want me so much. Who didn’t play games, who just told me how he felt when he felt it. He could be fucking all of Paris, but he’d settled for me. “Yes…”

“Then get your ass over here.”

I moved back into him, seeing the way his angry eyes watched me the whole way. I rose on my tiptoes and extended my hand for the back of his neck, as far as I could reach. My body was lifted by his strong arms, and I was face-to-face with him, his big hands gripping my ass. My arms circled his neck, and I pressed my forehead to his. “I’ll take the pancakes.”

A slow smile crept over his lips before he pulled away to look me in the eye. He was so hot when he looked intense, even pissed off. But when he smiled…it was like the most handsome he looked. His eyes shone like the water of the Mediterranean, and he was warmer than the Tuscan sun. “That’s my girl.”