Chapter 19
19
SOFIA
A sound in the distance wakes me. The memory echoes through my mind, faint, but sharp enough that I know it wasn’t my imagination.
I sit up and push away the two cats off my legs. They’re cute as hell, but now that some of them have migrated to my room, I hardly sleep. I’m constantly roused by the weight of them on me, or their purring or pawing. I’ve gone from sleeping deeply, to lying in waiting for my feet to be attacked.
The clock on my nightstand says it’s three in the morning. Ugh! I just want to sleep until nine, is that so much to ask?
Expecting Gideon to come through the door, followed by the remaining felines, I stare at it sleepily. He should just stay here or me there. All this traveling at night is wearing me out.
“Hello?” I call out when he doesn’t come in. “Gideon?”
Slipping out from under the blankets, I go to the door and peer out into the hall. It’s dark and silent and empty.
There’s another sound, slight and barely there. It’s not one of the manor’s usual bumps in the night or a random breeze blowing through a crack somewhere.
What is Gideon up to? If he’s not here, that means he’s up to no good. Probably plotting someone’s demise. His next target on the men who killed his father.
I tiptoe all the way down to the first floor, and peek around the corner toward the study. It’s dark in there, no sign of life.
Hmm. If he’s not there…
I enter the kitchen to find the counter full of brown grocery bags and Gideon’s legs visible under the open fridge door.
“Isn’t it kind of late for a snack?” I slam the door shut to scare him and laugh when he screams like a girl. But my laughter dies almost instantly. “You’re not Gideon.”
“I…” He’s an older man, dark skinned with a bald head and round glasses. Holding his hand to his chest, he mutters, “Excuse me.”
Before I can ask him anything else, he runs past me. I barely even have time to react, partly because I’m still in shock of seeing someone else in the house, and partly because he’s too old to be that fast.
When I snap out of it, I take off after him. He shoves through the door that leads to the basement, descending at least two steps at a time.
“Wait!” I scream, but he ignores me.
I hear the buttons on the keypad being pushed.
“Stop!” I beg. The door is shutting as I reach the bottom of the stairs, all I can see is his apologetic brown eye. “No!”
The lock is set just as I get there. I slam my palms against the steel, slam them until they sting. “Please come back. Please let me out. He’s holding me captive!”
But he doesn’t come back. I beg and beg, and nothing. Then, I go quiet, hoping he’ll believe I’ve given up. Minutes pass, an hour. Whoever he was never returns.
Eventually, I do give up. Of course he’s not coming back. He was obviously one of Gideon’s employees. I bet he knew about me, which is why he was down here stocking the food stores in the wee hours.
I slide down the door and hug my knees to my chest, feeling completely alone. Tears prickle in my eyes, but they never make their way out. I’m heartbroken and defeated, but I’m also tired. So, so tired.
My plan is to stay here until Gideon finds me in the morning. Maybe he’ll take pity on me, if his black heart can feel anything. Maybe he’ll just carry me back upstairs to bed. Either one would be a win.
In the end, one of the cats takes both possibilities away. He begins to snoop through the grocery bags and attempts to crawl into one.
With a sigh full of resignation, I get up and unpack the remaining groceries. For fun, I move things around. Gideon will have a stroke when he can’t find his orderly pantry exactly as he likes it. I giggle to myself in a crazy person sort of way. It’s the little things in life that brings us pleasure, and pissing Gideon off, even a bit, will make my day.
I go upstairs to my bed, pausing only slightly to glance at Scarlet’s old room. For just a moment, when I woke up, I wondered if it had been her spirit alerting me to the man’s presence. I still can’t be sure. The kitchen is too far to have heard anything.
Touching the door, I say, “Thank you.”
It might have been a failed venture, but at least she tried. The thought renews the fight in me. If she hasn’t given up, neither should I.
I get my wish and sleep past nine. There were no cats using me as their mattress, no Gideon waking me for breakfast.
After a long shower, I head down to the kitchen to rummage for snacks. As soon as I reach the pantry, I notice everything’s been set back to normal. All my work to dismantle Gideon’s perfect organization has been undone.
“Damn, he’s fast,” I mumble.
“Actually, it took me over an hour.” I whirl to find Gideon leaning against the doorway, taking a bite of an apple. “That was very naughty, Little Bird. I came down to make us breakfast and couldn’t find a damned thing.”
I ignore the sinfully delicious sight he makes, the way he takes a bite of his apple, a suggestive look in his eyes. “It was just a bit of fun. No harm done.”
“Mmm.” He finishes his fruit and tosses it into the rubbish bin. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
Setting my things aside, I follow him up the stairs and to his suite in the south wing. “What’s in here that I need to—” I freeze, staring at the bed. Well, not the bed itself, but the photos strewn all over it. “What is this?”
“Don’t you recognize yourself?”
I walk to the bed and peer down at the dozen photographs and gasp as I realize exactly what I’m looking at. They’re the photos Gideon took last week when he came into my dark room and fucked me on the counter.
“How did you get these?” I demand.
“Better question is, why did you lie? You told me you destroyed the film.”
My cheeks burn. I intended on tearing the film to shreds, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what he saw. Wanted to know what I looked like to him as he fucked me.
Perhaps I should have gotten rid of the prints after, but that kinky part of me that seems to take over whenever he’s around begged me to hide them instead.
“You went through my things?” I divert.
“I can search anything I want at any time. Everything in this house is mine.”
“Including me?”
“ Especially you.”
I clench my jaw and glare at him. “Fine. I kept them. You caught me. Will that be all, sir?”
“Sir?” He blinks and then laughs in that amused way he has that makes me want to slap him.
“Can I go now?”
“No.” He sobers and picks up something I hadn’t noticed. A shiny chrome thing. “Do you know what this is?”
“A doorstop?” I glance at the suspicious object.
“I got an interesting alert yesterday.” He produces his cell phone and brings up video footage. “It appears you did more than rearrange the pantry and fridge last night.”
I peer at the screen and watch myself chasing after the man in the kitchen. Then, there I am, slamming my palms against the steel door.
“You scared the shit out of poor Henry,” Gideon says. “He was so startled, he thought he was having a heart attack. Had to go to the hospital.”
“So that’s his name? Henry.”
“You’re not going to ask if he’s all right?”
“Is he?”
He laughs. “Yes. Henry is my majordomo. He runs the house, but has been giving us privacy so we can get to know each other better. Now that you’ve seen him, I’ll let him make daytime appearances. If he’s willing after the fright you gave him.”
“I thought it was you. Sorry.”
“I didn’t bring you here for apologies,” he says, dismissing my regret. “Do you remember our game?”
“Which one? You have so many going on at the same time, I’ve lost track.”
“That’s all part of it. I want you to lose sight of where the finish line is so that I can win. But, being the gentleman sort,” he places a humble hand against his chest, “I’ll enlighten you. Per your own rules, your number of attempts on the garage keypad directly correlates with the holes I get to?—”
I raise my hand to stop him. “I remember. So?”
“You tried seven times.”
“I did not!” I say in outrage.
“You did. Watch.” He pushes the phone in front of me and replays the sad video from last night. Me, scaring poor Henry, running after him. Then I’m there, at the door, banging against it, shouting. And… pushing buttons.
Again and again, I press random numbers, and when the keypad flashes red, I try again.
“I don’t…” I shake my head. “I don’t remember doing that.”
“It doesn’t matter if you remember or not. What matters is the proof.” He comes closer, so near his pant legs rub against mine, and shows me the chrome object once more. “Now can you guess what this is?”
My eyes widen as I stare at the thing and I swallow hard. Yes, I now know exactly what that is and where he intends to put it.
Heart in my throat, I say, “It shouldn’t count. I don’t remember doing it.”
“That won’t work here, sweetheart. You made a deal.” He runs the back of his hand down my cheek and I shiver. “Take off your clothes and get on my bed.”
There’s a protest ready, it’s on the tip of my tongue, but it doesn’t come out. Because when I lift my eyes to his and see the hunger in his gaze, all I can do is shiver. I tremble with a mix of fear and wild anticipation of what he’s planning to do to me.
Wetness forms in my core even as I take off my clothes and throw them aside, then lay among the pile of sex photos all featuring yours truly.
He grins, his blue irises darkening to almost black as his pupils dilate. “If only I had a camera now.” With the flourish of a magician, he produces one, seemingly out of thin air. A beautiful Nikon I would have taken had I been aware of it. “Smile,” he instructs, aiming toward my pussy.
I instinctively know what he wants, because at least in the bed, I can read him the way he does me. My legs part, exposing my “smile” to him.
Almost as if he were a professional, he takes picture after picture, some of my cunt, others of my breasts and of the entire bed with the filthy photos and me in the center. I’ve never felt sexier, heart pounding, panting, excitement.
When he sets the camera to the side and comes near, I have a moment of panic. I know what’s coming.
“Will this hurt?” I ask when he too gets completely naked, and suddenly his cock seems so much bigger than usual. Enormous.
“If it does, I’ll kiss it and make it better.” He places a knee on the mattress and crawls up between my thighs and kisses my pussy as if to prove he means it.
He cups my sex with his mouth, swirling that wet, warm tongue on my nub.
“Mmm.” I drop back onto the bed, writhing with pleasure, luxuriating in the way he eats me. Consumes me.
Though, it doesn’t take much more than seeing his dark head between my legs. He knows exactly how to lick me, circling his tongue around my clit and sucking up the juices trickling from my entrance.
This time, however, he adds to the sensation by pressing a finger against my anus. He pushes it in gently, just enough to make me groan as he increases the rhythm of his tongue on my clitoris. I feel myself opening for him, just enough that he can dip his thumb into me. Then, a bit more, and more, until I’m sure his entire digit is in.
It’s intense and dirty and so damned good, it pushes me close to my climax. I begin to thrash. Just a bit more. I’m almost there. But he stops.
“More!” I beg and he chuckles against my thigh.
“Greedy, Little Bird.”
“Please.”
He moves up my body, nipping and kissing as he goes, until he reaches my nipples. Here, he concentrates, fully aware of how sensitive they are.
I buck upwards, desperate for his cock. But he doesn’t give it to me yet.
Pushing himself up, he holds me so that I’m lying on my side. “Bring your legs to your chest,” he orders, and I do so, wrapping my arms around my knees and pulling them in tight. “Good girl.”
He leans over to his nightstand, and from the drawer, pulls out a small bottle full of clear liquid. After pouring a generous amount into his palm, he spreads it over the bulbous part of the plug.
“What are you doing?” I ask, watching as he pours a little more.
But this time, he doesn’t rub it on the plug. This time, he spreads between my butt cheeks, concentrating fully on my tight hole. “Making sure you enjoy this as much as I will.”
“Oh,” I whisper, completely aroused by the sight of him staring at me hungrily, yet afraid of what he’s intending to do.
He inserts a finger, made slick from the lubricant, fucking me with it until I loosen enough for him to slide another in. In and out he goes, giving me time to get used to the feeling. He’s stretching me, preparing me.
“Good girl,” he says, sliding in and out. “This tight hole is going to be mine.”
“Yes,” I breathe, shuddering when he removes his fingers and positions the tip of the plug there. It goes in without resistance, swallowed to the hilt. Because I want it. Because I’m desperate for it.
He drags his shaft between my labia, making me cry out in ecstasy when he grazes my clitoris. When he enters me, I suck in a breath and grasp at the sheets beneath me. The fullness is overwhelming, breathtaking. Delicious.
Once more, he brings me to the edge. I’m dripping wet, engorged, and near insanity when he pulls out of me.
“Please. Please!” I have never wanted anything more than to find my release. I want him to give it to me.
“Patience, Little Bird,” he whispers and bends his head to bite at my nipples. I hiss and wrap my legs around him, urging him to fuck me again.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs the end of the plug and tugs it out of me. I whimper, feeling completely empty, wanting that fullness to return.
That’s when I feel the tip of his cock pressed against my puckered hole. My mouth clamps shut as I immediately tense around the head.
“Let me in,” he rasps out. “You can take me. I promise.”
When he senses I’ve relaxed, he goes in a little deeper. I cry out from the pain, but he pushes on until he’s in all the way to the hilt. The area is so sensitive that I feel everything, the thickness of his cock, the pulsing of his heart, any slight movement. How completely he fills me.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” he groans and I realize he’s in agony from holding still, giving me time to adjust.
Slowly, he begins to move, and with each thrust, the pain changes into something else. A sort of need as he strokes across areas I didn’t know were there. I cry out, unsure if what I feel is pleasure or pain. Whatever it is, it’s not enough for either of us.
I’m roughly rolled onto my tummy. I attempt to turn to him, but he snatches my wrist and presses it to my lower back, holding me in place. Then, he pushes my chest onto the mattress, my arm still pinned behind me, and my ass in the air.
This time, when he enters me, there’s no resistance. He slides into the slick hole with ease, and pounds into me without mercy. My moans get louder with each slap of his hips against mine. I’m so close that when his hand delves between my legs to play with my clit, I shatter.
Gideon growls as he comes, his cock thickening almost unbearably inside me as he fills me. He remains there with his cock buried deep in my ass, as he grabs the camera once more.
“For our next round,” he says, and takes a picture.
We sleep for hours. I wake up aching in that delicious way that tells me I’ve been thoroughly fucked. All because I tried the keypad, what did he say, seven times?
Damn. I was so crazed after discovering Henry, that I didn’t register any of it.
Gideon was right, I did barter for the chance, and I lost. He brought receipts. I had no choice but to pay the price.
I sit up and stare at him. He’s completely out with two cats pressed against his side, sleeping much the way I used to before he barged into my world. As if he hasn’t completely and utterly turned my life upside down and then fucked me in the ass. Literally!
Was it good? Have I now been ruined for anything less than what he’s given me? Absolutely. All the more reason to hate him.
And yet he sleeps on, without a care that I could enact my own revenge. If I were him, I’d sleep with one eye open.
Something comes over me then, an impulse. My hand twitches and my lips curve upward in a mad sort of smile. I’m his enemy. He’s asleep. Vulnerable. I have a chance to kill him. Here. Now.
Reaching for my pillow, I tug it to me quietly. Autumn, or his clone, lifts golden eyes at me with lazy curiosity.
Giving Gideon one last long glimpse, he really is a beautiful thing to behold, I grab the pillow with both hands and place it over his face. I lean into it with all my weight, all the while smiling like a fucking crazy person.
It doesn’t take more than a second for him to react. His limbs fling out and he shoves me off with enough force to knock me off the bed. Both cats meow in annoyance and bolt from the room.
“What the fuck?!” Gideon looks from me, to the pillow, his hair a mess, his eyes wild.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“You tried to kill me!”
I shake my head and blink, but can’t quite form the denial on my lips.
He throws the blankets off and gets out of bed. “I’m going to shower. And don’t—” he points a finger at me “—follow me.”
It’s hard to obey as I watch him go, naked as he is, his ass so perfect I want to bite it.
Yes. I tried to kill him. He’s told me enough times I’m a bit villainous, and maybe he’s right, because I was able to tap into that part of me quite easily. It was a moment of insanity. Psychotic hysteria. Whatever you want to call it.
I still feel it crawling inside my chest.
Throwing my head back, I laugh, because damn, it felt good .