Chapter 9
Everly
The low hum of the house is a constant companion these days, a background thrum to my new life. It’s been... easier, since the dinner party. Work feels less like wading through quicksand, more like... navigating a stream I used to visit often. Even the dolls feel less like figures from some strange dream and more like... well, complicated people I'm getting to know.
I’m in my room, waiting for dinner to be ready. The scent of roasting meat and something subtly spiced hangs in the air, and it's making my stomach growl.
I wonder what Lila is up to—probably orchestrating some kind of chaos. Sable will be applying her makeup, I imagine, getting ready for dinner. And Winter is probably meditating. Or sharpening something. A sudden curiosity hits me.
I want to see what they're all doing, not just imagine it.
I head out of my room and down the long corridor, my bare feet making no sound on the plush carpet. When I get upstairs, I pass the vast living area—empty—and turn toward the game room. I've walked past it many times but never spent any time there. This space feels playful, almost juvenile. A huge pool table dominates the room, its felt surface gleaming under soft lights. A bar, stocked with liquor of all kinds, runs along one wall. A few gaming consoles sit neatly arranged against another.
Talon would love it here.
Sable’s here, her back to me, her fiery red hair tumbling down to her waist. I want to run my fingers through it. The crack of balls hitting each other fills the room as she makes a quick motion. For a moment, I just watch her, admiring the way she handles the cue stick—not that I’d ever admit it out loud.
“Need something?” Sable says impatiently. She doesn’t turn around, but I notice the tense set of her shoulders.
“No, not really. Thought we could talk,” I say, my voice softer than I intended.
I step further into the room, eyeing the pool table. I've never played, but I'm willing to give it a try if she offers.
Sable finally turns to face me, the cue stick resting against the table. Her hazel eyes narrow as she studies me.
“What’s there to talk about, Everly? You here to make small talk? Bond over our shared hobby of being Xavier’s playthings?”
Her tone stings, but I stand my ground. “I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other better. We’re in the same situation, after all.”
Sable rolls her eyes, the motion exaggerated. She strides across the room, her combat boots stomping heavily against the floor. “Spare me the drama. You think we’re the same? You think you belong here?” She stops in front of me. “You’re not like me, Everly. You’re not like Winter or Lila or any of the others. You’re still... soft. Innocent. And it’s going to get you hurt.”
Her words hit hard, but I refuse to let her see it. “And what exactly is your situation, Sable? You act like you hate it here, like you’re some kind of prisoner. But you’re still here, aren’t you? You could leave if you wanted to.”
Sable’s laughter is harsh, cutting through the room like a blade. “You really are clueless, aren’t you? You think Xavier lets people just leave? You think he’d let someone like me walk away after everything he’s done for me?”
“For you?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you call it?”
Sable’s eyes flash with anger, her hands clenching into fists. For a moment, I think she might lash out. But then she takes a deep breath, her composure snapping back into place. “You wouldn’t understand,” she spits, turning away from me and walking back to the pool table. “You don’t know anything about him. About what it’s like to owe him everything.”
A noise behind me makes me turn, and Winter appears in the doorway, her sharp blue eyes taking in the scene.
“Is there a problem here?” she asks, her tone cold but calm.
Sable shakes her head, picking up the cue stick again. “Just Everly being her usual na?ve self. Nothing to concern yourself with, Winter.”
Winter’s gaze shifts to me. “Maybe you should focus on your own path, Everly. Instead of trying to understand Sable’s.”
“Why is everyone so against us even talking?” I demand, frustration bubbling over.
“Because this isn’t a playground,” Winter says bluntly. “And not everyone is going to like you just because you want them to. Focus on yourself. That’s the only way you’ll survive this.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Winter’s already turning away, leaving me alone in the room with Sable’s animosity.
“Just leave me alone,” Sable mutters without looking up. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”
I hesitate for a moment before turning and walking out.
So much for wanting to get closer.
* * *
“On your knees.”
Xavier's voice, a low rumble, vibrates through me. I obey, the floor cold beneath my burning skin. He circles me, his gaze predatory, dissecting.
“Rule three, Everly.” His fingers trace the curve of my neck, sending a jolt down my spine. “Remain in any position I set until instructed otherwise.” He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “No movement. No speaking.”
How does he do this? How does he manage to make me feel so exposed, so vulnerable, with just the sound of his voice and the graze of his fingers? My heart pounds in my ears, a frantic rhythm that drowns out everything but the sound of his movements as he circles me.
The chain above me clinks, a metallic whisper that echoes through the room. It's strange, the way the sound seems to amplify in the silence, as though it's the only thing that exists outside of us. Xavier's hands are cool, deliberate, as he secures cuffs around my wrists. The leather is supple, molding to my skin, and the chain gives a soft rattle as he adjusts the length.
I tilt my head up, just enough to see the chain disappearing into the shadows above. I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck, a steady pressure that makes my skin prickle with heat.
"Look forward," he says, his voice breaking the spell. I obey, my head dropping again.
My body burns with the effort of staying still, of being silent, of being exactly what he wants. But beneath the fire of my restraint, there's a spark, small but insistent, that refuses to be extinguished. It's a dangerous thing, that spark, because it tells me that I'm not just afraid. That I'm not just uncomfortable.
That I'm more turned on than I am terrified.
Xavier comes into my line of view, and he reaches toward me. He trails a finger down my sternum, stopping just above the swell of my breasts.
“Look at me, Everly.”
My eyes meet his, the green depths swirling with an energy that makes my stomach clench. He lets his hand drop lower, his fingers brushing against my clothed core. I gasp, my body arching involuntarily into his touch. I still haven't had any release, not since I stepped foot in this place. He smiles, a slow, predatory curve of his lips.
He peels away my clothes, layer by layer, his touch both reverent and demanding. He spreads my legs wider, anchoring me more firmly to the floor. The vulnerability of my position sends a wave of heat through me, a mixture of shame and excitement.
"For this session, I want you to put your mouth to use."
Wait. What?
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I've never done this before. I've never even imagined doing this. But here I am, about to take Xavier Ravenwood into my mouth.
"Go on, Everly." His voice is low, coaxing, as he releases his dick from his pants. "I want to feel those pretty lips of yours."
I lean forward, my heart pounding in my ears. His scent fills my nostrils, and I can't help but inhale deeply. When I finally dare to look down, I see the impressive length of him, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. I've never seen anything like it.
"I-I don't know… I-I mean, I haven't..." I can barely speak, my eyes wide.
"You'll learn." His hand cups the back of my head, guiding me closer. "Just take it slow."
I part my lips, my breath warm against him. I hesitate, unsure of where to start, but his hand presses gently, urging me forward. I close my eyes and let my mouth envelop him, my tongue tentatively exploring the smooth head.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice hoarse. "Just like that."
I begin to move, my mouth sliding down, taking him deeper. His hand tightens in my hair, guiding my rhythm. I can feel his length, the veins beneath my tongue, and I moan softly around him, the sound vibrating through him.
I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm trying. I focus on the sensations, the taste of him, the way his body tenses. I want to please him, to show him that I can do this.
But I don't know what's making me feel this way. Is it because he hasn't let me come yet?
His hand tightens in my hair, and he begins to move, thrusting gently at first, then with increasing urgency. I can't help but make small sounds around him as I try to keep up. The vibrations seem to add to his pleasure—he groans along with me, thrusting deeper. His other hand grips my shoulder, steadying me as he takes control of the pace.
"That's it, Everly," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all."
I'm lost in the moment, in the feel of him, the taste, the way he fills my mouth. I'm aware of his eyes on me, watching my every move, and it only makes me want to please him more. I want to show him that I'm not just some na?ve girl, that I can give him what he craves.
His movements become more erratic, and I know he's close. I redouble my efforts, my tongue swirling, my mouth working in a rhythm that seems to drive him wild. He gasps, a soft curse escaping him as his muscles tense.
"Fuck, Everly." He pulls me off abruptly, his breath ragged. "You're a natural."
I look up at him, my eyes questioning, and he grins wickedly, a gleam in his eyes.
"But we're not done yet."
He kneels in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. His fingers trace the curve of my jaw, then trail down to my breasts. I shiver at his touch, my nipples hardening under his gaze.
"You're so wet, Everly. Do you know you're dripping on my floor?" His voice is a purr as he leans in, his breath hot against my skin. "Tell me, do you want to feel me inside you?"
My cheeks must be blazing. I don't dare look at the floor to see if what he said is true.
But I nod, my body on fire. He chuckles, a deep sound that sends a thrill through me.
"Say it, Everly. Beg me."
"Please..." I whisper, my voice hoarse with need. "Please, Xavier, I want to feel you."
He stands in one fluid motion, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist, and I feel the hard planes of his body against mine.
"I'll let you feel me, little dove," he says.
He positions himself, his eyes holding mine, and with one powerful thrust, he fills me completely. I gasp, my body arching in his grasp, my hands flexing in their restraints.
"You're so tight," he growls, his voice strained as he begins to move. "So fucking perfect."
He holds me in his arms, his strong arms supporting me as he fucks me with deep, relentless strokes. My body moves with his, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me. I can't think, can't do anything but feel.
"Xavier..." I moan, my nails digging into my palms.
His eyes lock with mine, and in that moment, I feel like I'm falling into an abyss of pure desire.
His hips slow, moving in a deliberate rhythm. I'm impaled on his length, every inch of him filling me, stretching me. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can't help but moan, my voice echoing in the room.
"Look at me, Everly," he commands.
I keep my eyes locked with his, determined to match his intensity. He starts to bounce me on his cock, each upward thrust lifting me slightly, only to bring me back down, taking him deeper. My hands, still secured above my head, clench into fists as I feel the pleasure building.
Our bodies glisten with sweat, the air heavy with our mingled scents. I'm aware of every sensation—the hard muscles of his arms holding me, the slick slide of his body inside mine, the sound of our labored breathing. It's like a rising tide, and I'm about to crash, lose myself completely into a million pieces.
I want that so badly.
As he drives into me, I feel my climax building, a pressure that starts deep within and spreads outward. My eyes roll back, my body arching, seeking more of him.
"Fuck, Everly," he grunts, his voice strained. "You're so fucking beautiful."
He watches me, his eyes darkening as he sees my pleasure. And then, just as I'm about to fall over the edge, he pulls out, his movements abrupt. I cry out in protest, my body yearning for release.
He holds me tightly, his hands gripping my waist, and I feel the hot rush of his release against my stomach. Xavier's eyes are shut tight, his features contorted in ecstasy. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, and I realize he's holding me to keep me steady, to share this moment with me.
I'm breathless, my body trembling, and I lean into him, seeking comfort in his embrace. He doesn't let me go, keeping me close as we both recover.
"You're incredible," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.
I can't speak, my mind still reeling from the intensity of what just happened. I feel a mix of emotions—satisfaction, frustration, and a deep connection to this man who has just claimed my body in the most primal way.
But why didn't he let me come?!