Chapter 14 #2
Her eyes flick up to mine. They’re wet, but she’s holding it in.
“Have you noticed no one talks to me with respect? Or at all?” Her voice sharpens.
“No one ever brings it up. I don’t know what my father threatened them with, but it worked.
I was surrounded by people, and not one of them ever said a real word to me. ”
She exhales, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Not the nanny or the maids. Not even my mother, if you can call her that.” She pauses, her voice dropping. “I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember.”
She speaks the words, and my mind fractures. I can’t stop thinking about them. Her father. Her mother. Every fucking person who ever touched her world, every stranger who dared to make her shrink even for a second.
My poor little orchid.
If she only knew how I can fucking relate to her. If she only knew how alike we really are. She grew up alone. Lonely as hell, cut off, shoved in the dark. And I look at her and it’s like staring at every wound I’ve ever carried, every night I wanted to tear the world apart just to feel less empty.
She’s the mirror I never wanted to find, the proof that maybe I wasn’t born broken; I was made this way.
And when I look at her, I know she wasn’t born broken either.
They did this to her. They poisoned her and left her to rot in silence.
They fucked her up. And now, every time I see her, all I can think about is how much blood it would take to balance the scales.
I get out of the bed and walk up to her. I kneel down, my hand on her calf, the other on her cheek. I look up at her like she’s the only god I’ll ever worship, the only sin I’ll ever commit.
“You and I … we were set aside long before we ever had a chance. Treated like we didn’t matter, like we were some kind of mistake.”
“What?” she breathes quietly.
“I will make them pay for every scar they left on you. I’ll make sure they choke on what they’ve done. Now you’re mine to protect, little orchid.”
She flashes an awkward smile, trying to decide if I’m serious or just messing with her. “Right.” Her eyes dart around. “Who are you? Superman?”
I click my tongue. “You’ve mistaken me for a hero, haven’t you?”
“I—I mean … what else?” Her voice wavers, and she pulls back just a little.
I let out a low chuckle, my eyes never leaving hers. “Then you’re not paying attention.”
Her chest rises and falls faster. “What do you mean?”
I sit on the floor, lean my elbow on the seat, right next to her bare thighs, and rest my head on my knuckles. “If I were the good guy, you wouldn’t be this nervous.”
She swallows, watching me closely. “Then what are you?”
“I solve problems. Breathing ones, mostly.”
“Uhm,” she mumbles, swallowing hard. “Are you a killer?” she breathes hesitantly, giving me a half-smile.
“I guess it depends on the day. Some call me a killer. Others just don’t call me at all.”
She shifts in the chair, trying to pull away further from me. “I still don’t understand.”
“Alright, let’s start with the basics.” I raise a brow. “You really think a normal guy just walks into the lion’s den because some princess asked nicely?”
“No, but a hero does.”
I smile broadly, almost sarcastically. “Heroes show up to save lives. I usually leave with one less.”
She exhales slowly, crosses her arms, and pouts her lips, preparing to deliver the wisest thing the world has ever heard. Fuck, I’m already hooked on whatever it is.
“So, you’re what? An assassin?”
“Yep.”
Her face scrunches even more. “For real?” I nod, amused by how the idea alone is already driving her a little insane. “So what? You belong to a secret club and have a cool nickname, like Falcon or Tiger?”
I scrunch my face harder. “Who does that?”
“That’s what I see in the movies.”
“Don’t believe everything you see in the movies, little orchid. That’d be funny and pathetic as hell.”
She hesitates for a few seconds, probably trying to come up with something witty to tell me.
“It would be funny, yes,” she says eventually, pushing her hair behind her ear like she always does when she’s awkward and tries to hide it. “Anyway, let’s go back to my questions, shall we?”
“To your interrogation, you mean,” I quip, relaxing my posture.
She huffs out a smile. “Any heartbreak that stays?”
Now that … that catches me off guard.
My eyes widen before I school my face, not wanting her to see the surprise. Didn’t think she’d throw something like that at me. Pleasant curveball.
A slow grin creeps across my mouth, faint and amused.
“No.”
She presses her lips together. “Cool.”
And just like that, she’s awkward again.
What did she want me to do? Spill my guts and lay out every filthy detail like it’s a confession booth? Tell her how I lost my virginity, or about the first time I jacked myself off?
On the contrary, these are some details about her that I’m dying to learn.
“What about you?” I ask, raising a brow.
“What about me?”
“Any boyfriends? Will I have to chase someone down and kill them for daring to touch you again?”
She lets out a long breath, as if she was holding it forever. She brings her legs on the chair and crosses them.
“You’re not the only one who my father told not to let anyone touch me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I never had a boyfriend.”
That’s the last thing I expected out of her mouth.
She’s fire wrapped in skin—hot, dangerous, sexy—and somehow, she’s blind to it. Doesn’t even see how she could stop a room cold just by walking through it.
Cliché? Maybe.
“So, you’re …”
“A virgin? Yeah.”
“So, wait … You never had sex before?”
“Only by myself, if that counts,” she says, almost whispering.
I hear the crack in her voice, the way she can’t sit still in her own skin. It’s delicious.
Something in me snaps. My cock is already suffocating in my pants. I raise on my knees, spread her legs, and slide between them. Her awkwardness increases.
I lean closer. “Have you ever kissed a man?” I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear, intensifying her quivers.
“N-No,” she mumbles, hesitantly.
Fuck, that only makes me harder for her. That only makes me desperate to make sure no one else ever lays a hand on her. The first touch, the last touch, and every fucking touch is going to be mine.
All I can think about is the sound of her screaming my name.
How she’ll be mine. The sight of her on her knees, lips wrapped tightly around my cock, surrendering to me in ways she’s never done to anyone.
The thought of being the first to fuck her, to see her in ways no one ever has, and no one ever will.
My breathing becomes sharper. “Have you ever let anyone inside you?”
“N-No.”
I let my fingers wander up her bare thighs, higher and higher, savoring every shiver I pull out of her. Each tremor she gives me feeds this … this ravenous hunger, the need to take more, to never stop until there’s nothing of her left that isn’t mine.
My fingers trail higher between her thighs, and she parts them wider without even thinking, like her body already knows who it belongs to.
“Have you ever touched yourself, picturing someone?” I ask.
She pulls back, her eyes fixating on mine, her lower lip trembling.
“You.”
Fuck …
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me how you did it.” I grab her outer thighs and pull her closer to me, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.
“Show me the way you want me to touch you,” I whisper, planting soft kisses on her thighs.
Her breathing comes out shaky, but her soft moans expose her need.
“Show me how deep inside of you you want me to reach.”
“I-I can’t …”
I stroke the length of her pussy over her already soaked lace thong, savoring the way her body betrays her.
She gasps, tilting her head back, already offering herself without thinking.
What she doesn’t understand is that there’s no “giving” tonight.
There’s only me taking, and her learning that everything she is belongs to me.
“Yes, you can, little orchid,” I say, grabbing her wrist. “I’m not allowed to touch you, and tonight, I’ll obey like a good boy.” I lick her fingers. “I watch. You play.”
I trap her hand beneath mine, forcing her own trembling finger to circle her clit exactly the way I want—slow, merciless, agonizing.
“Adam …”
Her body jerks at the contact, but she has no control here. She’s not pleasuring herself; she’s a puppet, and I’m pulling the strings.
Each torturous circle drags a whimper out of her, and I savor it like proof of ownership. She’ll learn her body isn’t hers to command. Not anymore. Every shiver, every desperate gasp is mine to decide when and how she gets it.
“Show me exactly how filthy you can be for me.”
She takes the initiative and strokes her soaked pussy without following my lead anymore.
“Fuck, you need to see this,” I groan, unable to hold myself back.
I grab her and spin her around, pulling her onto my lap, her back pressed to my chest, the bed beneath us, the mirror ahead forcing her to watch.
“Beautiful. Spread for me. Show me what’s mine,” I growl in her ear, causing a choked moan to escape her lips.
One hand forces her thighs wider, leaving her exposed, while the other clamps around her throat, keeping her caged tight against me.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking forbidden, so fucking tempting.”
“We shouldn’t …” she mumbles between her moans.
I shove her own fingers inside her, making her gasp louder, her hips jerking helplessly, begging without words for what I won’t give.
She’s already drowning in need, but I’ll drag it out until she breaks for me.
I keep her pinned, shoving her fingers in and out, until her sweet whimpers sound like surrender.
“Keep your eyes on me. Watch what you do to me while you fuck yourself.”
The sight of her unraveling under my hand makes my cock ache with the kind of pain that feels like punishment, but watching her squirm, using her own hand against her, is worth every second of torment. Her body doesn’t belong to her anymore. It’s just the fuck-toy I play with.
“You look so fucking perfect. You don’t even need me inside you to belong to me completely.”
“Adam, I’m—”
My fingers tighten around her throat, pinning her in place. “Look at me,” I growl, looking at her through the mirror.
“I can’t take it,” she pants quietly, her hips bucking harder against her hand like a needy little thing.
“Don’t stop now.”
Her orgasm slams into her, her fingers moving frantically as her thighs tremble and her head falls back against my shoulder.
“Fuck, that’s it. That’s mine. All of it,” I snarl, clamping my hand over her mouth. Her muffled cries vibrate against my palm, and it makes me even harder. She can scream all she wants, but no one will ever hear her but me.
She goes slack in my grip, melting against my lap.
I soft growl escapes my throat, unable to hold it back. “I could watch you ruin yourself like this every night.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” She pants louder, her breathing becoming more forced.
“But you did,” I say and quickly spin her around and toss her on the bed. I slide between her legs, my eyes fixated on hers, relishing the sweet awkwardness and the veiled need for more. I grab her hand and drive her fingers into my lips, sucking her from them. “And you were fucking divine.”
My eyes close as I savor her taste, the image of her on all fours flashing in the corner of my deranged mind. Tight, trembling, and mine to take.
I lean in until my lips brush her ear, her trembling breath hitting my skin. She’s scared, turned on, trying not to fall apart, and I fucking love it.
“Sleep tight, Isabella. I’ll be awake, obsessed, replaying your sweet little moans and how I’m gonna fuck you until you forget how to beg.”
No one else gets her. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.