Owning the Beast(6)

Stumbling to the bathroom on wobbly legs, the throb between my legs decided to make itself more known. Looking down between my thighs, I could see the evidence of our coupling. No, the evidence of our f*cking. I was f*cked last night, and he even called me a whore a couple of times to remind me. Drawing a bath, I sank into the hot, soothing water, washing and scrubbing away at the blood and semen that was left on my body. This man confused me. One second, he was calling me a whore and the next, an angel. One thing was clear though, there was a lot more to Griffin than meets the eye and I had this overwhelming need to figure him out.

I want this to work. I came to America to get married, make a family, have a husband, and maybe children as well. Could I tame this beast? If I could give him what he needs, then maybe he could give me what I need as well. He has to be lonely too. Why else would he use the agency? Some of the things he said to me last night made me believe that he found himself unlovable, undesirable. I was not ignorant of my own beauty but I never found it to be important. It could be, that with a soft hand and kindness, I could draw this man out. The man that was surely hidden beneath the beast. All I needed was a plan.

Finishing up my bath, I found my clothes from the night before laid out on the couch in the bedroom. They seemed to have been cleaned and pressed to pristine condition, including my underwear. Dressing quickly, I headed downstairs in search of the kitchen. I marveled at the architecture of the mansion. It would probably take me all day to explore every single nook and cranny. Wandering down the hallway, I finally came across the kitchen. I’m not even sure if that was what it should be called. It was so huge that you could probably cook for a crowd of fifty in here.

Opening up the fridge and taking a peek inside, it seemed like they really might be cooking for fifty. It was overflowing with food. Pulling out some eggs and bacon, I started breakfast. I’ve been cooking for my father for so many years that it came as second nature to me. Nothing took me away from my problems like cooking did. Making up two plates, I set them on the breakfast bar in hopes that Griffin would join me. If this man was going to be my husband, I had to try and get to know him better. No sooner had I taken my first bite did he come strolling into the kitchen with a scowl on his face.

“Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he clipped, moving to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug.

“Morning to you too, Mr. Stone. Would you be joining me for breakfast? I made you a plate,” I chirped in my sweetest voice. Maybe some of my sweetness would rub off on him.

“I do not eat breakfast. Would you like me to call Logan for you?”

I was not sure what he meant by that. Call Logan to take me away or call Logan to have breakfast? His pinched look and clenched jaw wasn’t much help either.

“If you wish.” I flashed him a smile. “I’ll also take a cup of that coffee while you’re at it. Two sugars, no cream, please.” Before he could retort, I said a quick thank you before dropping my eyes back down to my plate. A thrill of excitement ran up my spine when I heard him start on my coffee, but it died quickly when he went ahead and called Logan up to the mansion after placing my coffee in front of me.

Logan came strolling into the kitchen two minutes later. Logan’s a handsome man; I might even call him pretty. He was exactly how I pictured a typical American man to be; blond wavy hair, bright cerulean eyes, and completely relaxed. I couldn’t help but compare the two men standing in the kitchen. While Logan was a few inches shorter than Griffin, he was much leaner and toned. Griffin was broad and all consuming. There was no missing his dark, commanding aura when he was in the room. He’s the first man I’d ever been with, but when he loomed over my body last night, I felt like a caged animal that couldn’t escape him. I might have been terrified but I’d never felt more alive. Flashes of last night brought a blush onto my face and I wondered if anyone noticed. Looking back and forth between the two men, I found them staring at me. Logan smiled while Griffin scowled even harder, which I didn’t think was possible.

Breaking the silence I asked, “Does everyone come running when Mr. Stone calls?”

“Generally so. What is that wonderful smell?” Logan smirked.

“I made breakfast. Feel free to sit next to me, you can have this plate if you like. You can keep me company while I eat. Mr. Stone isn’t much of a conversationalist.”

Griffin slammed his coffee cup down on the table and I snapped head up to look at him. I was stunned to see the shattered remains of the cup. “Anna, stop with the goddamn Mr. Stone shit, and no, Logan will not be sitting next to you eating my goddamn breakfast.”

Rolling my eyes, I caught Logan smothering his laughter and I couldn’t resist prodding the beast once more. “But I thought you don’t eat breakfast, Griffin? There’s no need to let it go to waste. You don’t like to share?”

Stomping over to the breakfast bar, Griffin plopped down onto the chair next to me and began shoveling food into his mouth, cleaning his plate in record time. I’m amazed he didn’t choke. Pretending to take a sip of my coffee, I hid my grin behind the cup.

“There. Are you happy now, woman? I ate your f*cking breakfast.” I was actually quite happy but I think I’ll keep that tidbit to myself. Griffin didn’t seem to like that I was giving Logan my attention and it warmed my stomach. I couldn’t help but crave more of his possessiveness, and so I tried again.