Chapter Forty-One #3
Hearing it, while standing so close, trapped under his black gaze, reminds me of the last time we were alone in here together…
The major lapse in judgment I’ve been obsessing over since.
“Nada…” I mumble, going for unaffected, though it comes out petulant.
The strangest thing happens… It makes him smile.
Not a huge one, but a small slope to those puffy pink lips. Like a real smile, not one of his cocksure smirks. It looks way too good… I have to look away.
No one should look that pretty when they smile.
“Little bird,” he hums, stepping closer. Tentatively, almost hesitantly, which is odd. “Lo siento… Are you upset with me?”
Gee, ya think??
I must be making a face, because he huffs. “I’m sorry, baby love. I’ve been desperate to see you, but work took over and I couldn’t get away. You understand, don’t you?”
“No, not really,” I grunt. Again, like a stubborn child.
“Mi Angelito, I thought you’d be happy to see me.” He pouts, and now I’m about to damn lose my damn mind.
“That…” I whisper, up close to his face, “is pure horse shit.”
His expression shifts, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Well, mira. You seem to have something you’d like to say to me, pajarito, so by all means. Air your grievances. Clearly, you have many.”
His tone is nonchalant, resembling his usual icy self. But the way he’s staring at me, hard, obsidian in his irises sort of glittering. A controlled rage that’s visible and palpable.
And I might have serious issues, because it enlivens me.
“Grievances…” I tilt my head, allowing my frustrations to fuel me.
“Yea, I have grievances, Diablo. It’s called being locked up in a goddamn cage all day every day, with no one to speak to but the birds!
Oh, right, who could forget Kent the butler!
He does come by for five seconds to drop off food, but I’m sorry to say, he’s not exactly a gold-medal conversationalist.”
He chuckles, dropping his arms to his sides. I’m glaring at him, but he simply peeks at me and cocks a brow. “Continuas, por favor.”
“You’re an asshole, Ivory,” I snap. “You know I actually believed you when you said you’d be back?” I scoff incredulously. “How fucking na?ve. I mean, just be honest, Diablo. I can’t handle it. Just say you want a plaything ready and waiting whenever you’re in the mood.”
In a flash, the amusement is gone. Now he’s really eyeing me, the black in his gaze hardening like I struck a nerve.
“I just said I wanted to come back,” he growls, as if he’s clinging desperately to his control. “Do you have any idea what’s happening on this island right now, Angel?”
The way he says my name, with a bite, no nickname or pet name… It feels threatening.
“Uh, no,” I clap back, truly sick and tired of his shit. “How would I?? You have me locked in a cage, pendejo!”
A flicker of amusement flashes in his eyes, as if some part of him really enjoys when we argue. But he holds it back.
“Bastante, pajarito,” he teems. “I’m hanging on by a thread here…”
“Great.” I roll my eyes. “Then either kill me, or set me free and make it a fair fight.” I hiss up at him. “Because I’m not going to sit in this cage forev—”
“Perdóneme?” He barks. “You said you are not going to??” He cages me in. “I must have missed the part where I asked for your permission to tend to you how I see fit.”
A chill washes over me. “Tend to me…?” I croaked. “How you… see fit… What exactly does that mean, Diablo?”
His gaze is narrowed, singeing me with simmering frustration.
Up close, I can tell that he’s exhausted. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, which I guess would make sense, if he’s been running around putting out fires.
Still, this isn’t something I want or need to be thinking about. I don’t care if he’s tired, or if he has excuses for why he didn’t come back. They seem pretty thin to me, anyway.
This is his house. It would take all of two seconds to wander over here and just say I’m busy.
At the same time, he doesn’t owe me that, because despite this weird role we’ve slipped way too effortlessly into, we’re not in a relationship. He’s my captor; the man I hate.
The man who also stood in this same spot five days ago and told me he cared for me. That he’d captured me because I’m special.
Who insists that I’m in here because he can’t be away from me, like some kind of obsessive, lovestruck maniac!
You’d think if that were true, nothing would keep him away from me for days. Not even an active war. And I don’t know why that’s bothering me, because I don’t want him fawning over me, or trying to possess me.
I swear I don’t…
“First of all, Angel, I told you that I am not going to kill you, so stop fucking bringing it up,” he hisses, his expression taking on a severity that’s winding up my gut like a crank.
“Second of all, I assure you I have not imprisoned you here as a ready-made sex toy. Nor do I need to butter you up for anything.”
My lashes flutter. “Oh, no?”
“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, easing his body closer to mine.
I try to back up, but a large hand appears on my waist. “Well, that’s how it seems…”
“I don’t care how it seems,” he snarls. “I am telling you that you’re not a toy to play with when I’m bored, pajarito.
You are special, and different, and I wasn’t lying or exaggerating when I said that.
But make no mistake, you still belong to me, and only me.
You will not fly away from me again, entiendes?
” His mouth is hovering over mine, so close I can almost taste him.
“No…” I rasp. “I don’t understand. I’m not a sex slave, but I belong to you… I’m not a prisoner, but I’m locked up. Dime, Diablo… what do you want from me? Truly?”
A rumble comes from his chest, and I don’t want him to feel me shaking, but there’s no way to avoid it when he’s a literal breath away from swallowing me whole.
But the strange thing is that he’s vibrating too.
Stiff and subtly shivering, like when your muscles shake from the strain. He feels like he’s fighting with all of his strength to hold back, the hand on my waist featherlight.
He isn’t grabbing me like the possession he claims me to be. The way he’s reacting to me is betraying his words, and it’s confusing as shit. Just like the last times; begging me for more, while insisting that I’m his. Pleading for consent while keeping me locked in a damn cage.
He acts like if I said no, he might go absolutely mad and reduce the world to rubble, but he would still adhere to my wishes? It’s irrational.
What the hell does he want??
“I don’t… know,” he growls, jaw clamped. “I just want you, because you’re mine. That is the only certainty I have for you, Angel… You. Are. Mine.”
He’s telling the truth. It’s obvious, but it doesn’t help because it still makes no sense, and I can tell he’s just as troubled by this as I am.
Whatever is happening between us, I can’t deny that it’s empowering. The Ivory doesn’t beg, doesn’t wait, doesn’t kneel.
Yet for me, he’s done all of those things, when admittedly, he doesn’t have to.
And part of me knows the best way to capitalize on this is to tell him to stop. Put his money where his mouth and say fucking no.
But that sounds a lot less fun than, say… I dunno…
Pressing his buttons? Just a little… Like a bratty little hoe.
Push him over the edge, and let him pull me with him. Because let’s be real, it was only a matter of time before one of us snapped. It makes the most sense for it to be him.
I have the key to The Ivory’s cage… Might as well open it and see what he does.
“Diablo…” I say on a whisper that shares notes with a moan. He releases the tiniest of audible gasps as I move my lips to his ear. “You know that isn’t really true.”
You would expect The Ivory to grab me by the throat and growl in my face that I am most certainly his. Then cuff me to the bed and fuck me raw like an animal to prove me wrong and punish me for ever doubting his dominion.
But once again, that’s not what happens. He does seem vexed by my words… But more so because he knows they’re true.
A noise thrums his chest, turning a bit whimpering towards the end.
I’ve got him on the ropes already.
“Admit it,” I keep keep poking. “Tu sabes… If I really belonged to you, you wouldn’t have to lock me up in a cage to keep me from flying away.”
“Stop,” he croaks, quaking into me. “Por favor, pajarito…”
He’s a dam about to burst. I can feel the cracks spreading, and I’m afraid of what might happen when he breaks. But I’m also desperately craving it.
Come on, Papi… Unleash.
“I told you, I’m not your little bird anymore, Diablo,” I hum, dragging my fingertip down his neck, using it to push open his collar. Grazing his tattoo.
The bird wrapped in barbed wire.
The tattoo he got for my father, no doubt. To commemorate the slaying of his late mentor.
“I never was,” I breathe into his ear. His grip on my waist tightens, and a fearful thrill rushes through me. “And you’ll never be mi padre.”
I hear the crackling, in slow motion. Like when the ceiling of the prison split.
And then the roar.
In a blink, The Ivory’s hand is around my throat. “Fuck! Cállate la boca, you little shit!” He squeezes, practically lifting me off the ground by my neck, hissing venom in my face. “I’ll show you Daddy, putana! I will burn my name into that sweet cunt so you never forget!”
“Uhhmff,” I whimper, a jagged noise. That’s all I can get out while he’s finally breaking for me…
This is The Ivory I’ve been secretly waiting for.
Fuck yes… I got you, Diablo.
I’m instantly throbbing and leaking between my legs as he spins, tossing me onto the bed like a rag doll. I barely have time to pretend to scramble away. He’s already on top of me, pinning me down and snarling above me like that wild animal I knew was in there.
Evil, feral beast, gnashing its teeth. Ready to tear me to shreds.
I shouldn’t want this. There’s no conceivable rational explanation for why I’m opening beneath him, panting like an animal myself…