The Seductive Pretty Boy of the Matriarchal World-Chapter 69: No One Can Take Him Away (R-18)

Chapter 69: No One Can Take Him Away

Serena Blackwood felt the faint hitch of pain in Elias Kane’s voice and eased her grip on his wrist just enough to keep him pinned without bruising him further, though she didn’t shift her body an inch. She lifted both of his arms high above his head, forcing his slender wrists together so she could lock them in place with one hand alone. Her free hand moved with calm precision, plucking the black card from his fingers and flicking it into the shadowed corner of the car where it vanished among the leather and chrome.

The moment the card left his grasp, Elias erupted into fierce, desperate struggling.

His paycheck—his entire retirement wages—gone in one careless toss.

Serena stared down at the young man trapped beneath her, unmoved by every twist and jerk of his body. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t budge her weight or her resolve.

She lowered her head slowly, her long raven hair cascading like a dark waterfall on either side of his face, sealing them off from the city lights and the distant hum of Manhattan traffic. The curtain of silk isolated them completely, leaving only the two of them locked in a private world of locked gazes and shallow breaths.

"You trust her that much?" Serena asked, her voice velvet-soft but edged with ice. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Elias’s struggles finally stalled. He lifted his chin and met her eyes directly, the pale column of his throat stretched taut. His expression held no surrender—only that familiar, stubborn glint she both hated and craved.

Seeing the defiance flicker across his features, Serena abruptly released his wrists. The instant he was free he tried to surge upward, but she was already sliding an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against her with effortless strength. His vision filled with nothing but the pale swell of her blouse and the warm curve of her body. Her voice drifted down from above him, low and measured. "Who can guarantee the medical team Giselle Frost rounds up will even come close to my standards? For all we know she can’t secure one at all. Are you really prepared to hand your father’s life over to strangers without verifying a single detail? He’s stable right now, but one reckless decision from you could send him somewhere irreversible."

She let the words settle before continuing, her tone never rising. "And even if, by some miracle, her team could actually cure him—what about your gambling mother?"

Elias’s entire body went rigid in her arms, every muscle locking into stillness.

Serena kept her voice steady, almost gentle. "Don’t delude yourself that Giselle is doing this because she cares about you. Our families have a long, ugly history of grudges. The only reason she’s inserting herself now is to use your closeness to me against me—to drive a wedge between us and watch me bleed."

Elias had to bite back an actual laugh. It was almost impressive how cleanly she flipped the script. Serena was the one who lived for these rivalries with Giselle, yet here she was painting Giselle as the scheming interloper. The sheer audacity of the deflection would have been funny if it weren’t so perfectly calculated.

"Her help is probably nothing more than a fleeting whim," Serena went on, eyes never leaving his. "Can you guarantee she’ll stay committed to your father’s treatment for the rest of his life? She couldn’t even afford the cost—she’s still just a girl, and the Frost family isn’t hers to command. But the Blackwood family answers to me. Only I can cover the staggering expense of proper care. And your gambling mother—do you honestly believe Giselle could manage her the way I can?"

Elias had to admit the logic was airtight. Even knowing full well that Serena herself had engineered the circumstances around his parents, he still felt the persuasive weight of her words pressing against every objection he could muster. It was almost too easy to let himself be swayed.

He let the reluctant acceptance show on his face, his stiff posture softening by degrees inside the circle of her arms. He turned his head slightly to the side, breaking their locked stare. "But can you really keep looking after my parents indefinitely?"

Serena caught the tiny fracture in his resolve—the last sliver of stubbornness beginning to crumble. One more measured push and it would vanish completely.

What she said instead was quiet and honest. "I can’t promise forever either."

She wasn’t stupid enough to treat Elias like a fool. Blanket, unconditional indulgence would only make him suspicious. He needed the sting of realism to make the offer believable.

"But Giselle can’t even manage what I’m offering right now," she added, leaning in until her face hovered inches from his. "As long as you stay with me for a single day, I’ll take care of your parents for that day."

Elias turned his head back toward her. Their noses brushed, hot breaths tangling in the narrow space between them until the air itself felt thick and intimate. Serena tilted her chin just enough to nudge his glasses up and off with the bridge of her nose. The frames slid away, revealing the full, striking beauty of his face unfiltered.

"You’d rather put your faith in Giselle Frost—who has no real connection to you—than in me, the woman you’ve already been intimately entangled with?" A perfectly calibrated flicker of hurt softened her eyes, so convincing that even Elias, trained to read every micro-expression, couldn’t detect the performance.

The atmosphere had reached the exact temperature she needed; the acting came naturally after that.

Elias played his part, biting his lower lip as the words slipped out in a reluctant whisper. "I... trust you."

He was convinced.

Serena let the anger she had been holding back surface now—anger he had invited by bringing Giselle into the conversation in the first place. She hadn’t planned to mention her rival; that would only have fueled his defiance. But he had handed her the opening himself, and she intended to use it.

He needed to learn he belonged to her. He couldn’t slip off to hotel rooms with other women, even if nothing had happened. Giselle was irrelevant. Serena was the one who controlled every facet of his life.

Seeing him yield at last, she stopped restraining the fury. She angled her head and sank her teeth firmly into the soft lobe of his ear, voice low and heated against his skin. "You really... need to be taught a lesson."

Her gaze flicked to the black card glinting on the floor. With a low, possessive sound she reached down, snatched it up, and tucked it firmly back into the inner pocket of his jacket, fingers pressing it against his chest like a seal. "This stays with you," she murmured, breath hot against his ear. "Just like you do."

Elias didn’t get the quick, confined punishment he’d half-expected inside the car. Serena’s suppressed rage demanded more space than the sleek interior allowed. She guided him out and into the presidential suite, straight to the wide, luxurious bed that dominated the room.

He sensed the lingering resentment in her movements and adopted a faintly guilty expression, pressing his lips shut. He slipped back into the quiet, tear-streaked state he had started in—crying silently, but without the earlier rigid defiance.

Serena brushed the tears from his cheeks with her thumb, the pad of it warm and steady, catching every glistening trail as if she were collecting proof of his surrender. His green eyes were still glassy, lashes clumped together from the silent crying he’d resumed the moment they’d stepped into the presidential suite. The wide bed loomed behind him like an altar, its black silk sheets already turned down by the hotel staff who knew better than to linger when Serena Blackwood arrived with her latest acquisition.

She let her fingertip trail downward, pressing gently against the softness of his cheek before sliding to his lips. She rubbed them with slow intent, feeling the plush give of rose-tinted flesh, then eased her finger past the corner of his mouth and inside. Elias parted for her without hesitation, tongue curling obediently around the intrusion, eyes half-lidded in that practiced, hazy submission that never quite reached his mind. As long as he stayed quiet, she could do anything. And right now, the silence between them was thick enough to drown in.

"You really need to be taught a lesson," she murmured again, voice low and heated against his ear where her teeth had already left a faint red imprint. She withdrew her finger with a wet pop and gripped his chin, tilting his face up so he had no choice but to meet her gaze. "Strip. Slowly. I want to watch every inch of what’s mine."

Elias let his lips part on a shaky exhale, green eyes already glassy on command. *Cute. She’s still pretending this is about love instead of damage control.* His hands moved with practiced ease—fingers catching the hem of his shirt, peeling it upward so the golden hair fell messily over his forehead. He let the fabric drop, then hooked his thumbs into his slacks and underwear, pushing both down in one smooth motion. His cock, already half-hard from the car and the sheer electricity of her jealousy, twitched under her stare. He bit his lower lip just hard enough to make it swell and flush rose, exactly the way she liked.

Serena’s fox-like eyes darkened. She shrugged out of her blouse and skirt with efficient grace, black lace bra and the faint rose scent of her skin the only things left between them. Tall, toned, every inch the woman who owned half the city and intended to own the rest of him. She stepped forward, cupped his chin, and brushed a thumb across his cheek—gentle, almost loving—before her grip tightened.

"On the bed. Hands above your head. Legs spread."

He crawled backward onto the silk with boneless grace, wrists crossing above his golden head, thighs parting just enough to look vulnerable. *Perfect little host-boy performance, queued up and ready.* His cock curved flushed and heavy against his stomach, the head already glistening. He let his voice crack beautifully. "Serena... please."

She climbed over him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. Her weight settled fully, pinning his pelvis so he couldn’t thrust even if he wanted to. One strong hand locked both his wrists in place. The other traced down his chest, nails scraping over nipples that tightened instantly.

"Look at you," she murmured, still playing the tender girlfriend for half a second longer. "So pretty when you cry for me." She leaned down, full breasts pressing warm against his chest, tongue dragging along the column of his throat. Then the mask dropped completely. Her teeth sank into the soft skin just below his jaw—hard, possessive, the kind of mark he’d wear under his collar tomorrow like a brand. The sharp sting flared hot, then melted instantly into liquid pleasure as his Pain to Pleasure skill took over, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to his cock while his mind stayed detached.

*There she is. Giselle really got under her skin tonight.*

"None of them get this," Serena growled against his ear, voice velvet turning to ice. "Not Giselle. Not Liora. Not a single one of those worthless girls who think they can look at what’s mine." Her free hand wrapped around his cock, stroking once, twice—slow, torturous drags that made his breath hitch on command. "Say it."

"I’m yours," Elias breathed, lashes fluttering, tears welling exactly when he needed them to. He arched just enough to press his chest harder against her breasts, inner thighs brushing her hips like an invitation. "Only yours, Serena. Please... I need—"

She cut him off with a bruising kiss, tongue claiming his mouth while her hand tightened around him. When she pulled back, a thin string of saliva still connected them. "You need me to fuck the thought of her out of you, don’t you? Need me to remind this slutty little body who it answers to."

Elias whimpered—soft, broken, exactly on cue—while his mind stayed three moves ahead. *Keep her talking. Keep her invested. The black card is still in my jacket. Tomorrow’s subway ride is still mine.*

She slid down his body, licked a broad, wet stripe up the underside of his cock, then blew cool air over the spit-slick skin just to watch him shiver. His fingers curled into fists above his head, nails biting into his own palms, but he kept his face perfectly ruined—tears slipping free, lips parted on silent gasps.

"Serena—fuck—please," he whispered, voice fracturing right on beat.

She took him into her mouth without warning—deep, sudden, throat relaxing around him until her nose brushed the neat trim at his base. Elias’s back bowed, a strangled moan tearing out of him that sounded far more desperate than he felt. She held him there, swallowing, working him until his thighs trembled and his wrists strained against her single-handed grip.

When she pulled off with a wet gasp, strings of saliva connected her lips to his throbbing cock. "You come when I say. Not before."

He nodded frantically, lips trembling. "Yes—yes, I understand."

Serena rose up, straddled him again, and guided the head of his cock against her soaked entrance. She sank down in one smooth, relentless motion, taking him to the hilt. The stretch made her exhale sharply—pure triumph. Elias’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked little sob escaping him while the pressure of her weight bloomed into warm pleasure through his Pain to Pleasure skill, his inner muscles clenching around her on instinct.

*Good reaction. She likes it when I pretend I can’t hold back.*

"Eyes on me," she ordered.

He obeyed, green eyes half-lidded and glassy, lashes clumped with tears that weren’t entirely fake. She rode him hard—possessive snaps of her hips that made the bed creak, breasts bouncing with every thrust. One hand stayed on his throat, pressing just enough to remind him she could. The pressure flared into another rush of pleasure, hot and addictive. The other pinched and rolled a nipple until it was red and aching, the sting converting instantly into fresh sparks that made his cock throb inside her.

"You feel that?" she panted, black hair curtaining them both. "This cock belongs to me. Every twitch. Every drop. Say it while I fuck you."

"My cock is yours," Elias gasped between moans that sounded far too genuine for his liking. Sweat beaded along his collarbones; golden strands stuck to his forehead. He looked thoroughly ruined—flushed, tear-streaked, lips swollen from biting them on purpose. "Only yours, Serena. Please—I’m so close—"

"Not yet." She slammed down twice more, then stilled completely, clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that made his vision spark. His thighs quivered uncontrollably. She leaned in, bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood, then licked it away. The sting melted into pleasure so sharp it nearly pulled a real sound from him. "You’ll come when I do. Fill me up like the desperate little host boy you are. Show me how grateful you are that I’m the one who owns you."

Elias nodded, tears spilling freely now. He clenched around her again—tight, rhythmic—milking her with every tiny shift of his hips that she allowed. The move made her groan low and animal.

"That’s it," she praised, voice softening for half a heartbeat into something almost loving. "Milk me. Earn it."

Then the tenderness vanished. She rode him like she meant to break him—fast, brutal, skin slapping skin, breasts pressed tight to his chest so he felt every gasp against his skin. Her fingers found her clit and rubbed furious circles. Elias felt her tighten, flutter, then shatter around him with a broken cry that sounded like victory and possession at once. Every rough thrust sent fresh waves of converted pleasure crashing through him, his Pain to Pleasure skill turning every pinch and bite and press into pure, building heat.

"Now—come for me—now," she snarled against his mouth.

He did. The orgasm crashed through him exactly on command—hips jerking helplessly under her weight as he spilled deep inside her in thick, pulsing ropes. His vision whited out for a moment, a wrecked sob tearing from his throat while his mind stayed perfectly sharp. *Black card secured. Giselle’s offer still on the table. Serena’s hooked tighter than ever.*

She rode him through it, grinding down to wring every last drop until he was oversensitive and twitching. Only then did she collapse forward, still impaled on his softening cock, breasts heaving against his sweat-slick chest. She kissed him softly—forehead, eyelids, the tear tracks on his cheeks—whispering praise against his skin. "My good boy. My perfect Elias. No one else gets this. No one ever will."

Elias curled into her like the needy kitten she wanted, boneless and flushed, letting her card her fingers through his golden hair while his breathing evened out. His inner monologue was already calculating tomorrow’s moves—the birthday call he’d dodge, the subway ride he’d take alone, the exact angle of the hickeys he’d leave visible under his collar.

Serena hummed, satisfied, and pulled the silk sheet over their tangled bodies. She didn’t pull out yet; she liked keeping him inside her while they cooled down, a constant reminder of ownership. Her arms stayed tight around him, rose-scented skin warm against his.

No one can take him away.

Not tonight. Not while she still thought she was the one holding the leash.