Chapter 19
Nineteen
Blair
I woke up in another unfamiliar room.
Relief washed over me when I realized I wasn’t lying half naked on a concrete floor.
I was tucked beneath soft blankets on a large bed in a stark-white room. A mirror with a border resembling the stained glass windows in the university stretched across one wall. Knowing the Night Sons, that was probably a two-way mirror.
A sea of plush pillows was piled high around me like personal bodyguards. As I tried to burrow myself into the softness of the blankets, I felt a tight tug on my arm.
I gulped when I saw the IV line running from my arm to the pole beside the bed. A bag of clear fluid hung from it, dripping into my veins.
My fingers wrapped around the needle in my arm, and I tugged. A sharp pinch shot beneath my skin.
I started to rip the damn thing out but froze when the door opened.
Enzo stepped inside, his gaze drifting from my arm to the IV bag. “Stop that, Blair,” he ordered as he closed the door behind him.
My face flushed when he crossed the room dressed in a black suit. His hair was combed back and neat. He looked polished and proper, yet no less dangerous. Just dangerous in a different way.
Dangerous like the mafia heir he was.
The sight of him sent a shiver through me. I hated how attractive he was.
Ignoring the sting as the needle shifted in my arm, I tugged at it again.
“Go ahead, then.” He sighed, loosening the buttons of his blazer. He shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over the leather chair across from the bed. “Rip it out. I’ll make you drink that entire bag of fluid in one gulp.”
My hand immediately dropped away from the IV.
He rolled the sleeves of his black button-up to his elbows while leaning against the wall, crossing his ankles while staring me down. My gaze jumped to his hand he’d cut last night.
There was no bandage.
Then it dropped to mine.
There wasn’t one there either, but I did notice four neat, fresh stitches in the center of my palm.
I nodded toward the IV. “Are you drugging me?”
He started inspecting his nails. “You needed electrolytes.”
“Are there drugs in this?”
“No.”
“Then what’s in it?”
“Potassium, magnesium, chloride, and sodium. No drugs.” A smirk played at his wicked lips. “Promise.”
“Well, thanks for not drugging me this time.”
“Initiations tend to dehydrate Fawns. That will replenish your strength.”
I had no idea how long I’d been asleep, what day it was, or when the last time I’d eaten or had anything to drink.
After Enzo had cut our hands and declared me his, everything had gone blurry.
Strangely, I’d expected a bloodier Initiation.
I’d imagined animal sacrifices or brutal violence. Instead, they had chosen another kind of torture. Psychological.
Their goal had been to ruin my sanity, strip me down to nothing, then rebuild me into whatever they wanted.
Military training for Fawns.
He pushed off the wall and walked to the IV stand, checking the bag. It was almost empty.
My eyes narrowed when he leaned across the bed and took hold of my arm. He stretched it out, and with practiced precision, removed the IV from my vein. Pain stung as the needle slid free.
A small bead of blood formed at the puncture site.
The way his breathing changed as he stared at it sent shivers through my bones. His throat bobbed with a swallow, and instead of bandaging the spot, he ran his thumb through the drop and gathered it onto his finger.
I stared at him, stunned, when he lifted that finger to his mouth the same way he’d tasted my blood last night.
I yanked my arm away before he could keep playing Dracula. “Is that some kind of fetish you have?”
He lifted a single brow, then gave his finger another slow lick.
I motioned toward my arm. “Blood.”
The smile that touched his mouth looked rare. It lacked the cruelty of his usual one, making him seem almost normal. Almost like a man with an actual conscience.
“Why do you ask? Does blood turn you on?”
“No, because I’m not a fucking vampire.”
“Nor am I.”
“Right. Normal people”—I shoved my thumb against my chest—“like me, don’t suck people’s blood.”
His smile grew. “You don’t need to worry about sucking my blood, Blair. You’ll focus more on sucking my cock.”
“I think the hell not.”
Any amusement vanished from his smile.
It settled back into his typical threatening shape.
I was paying too much attention to his face and not enough to his hands. I yelped when he ripped the blankets off me, exposing the short black nightie clinging to my body.
One of the nighties he’d stolen from my drawer days ago.
In a single motion, he caught my ankle, turned me, and dragged me to the edge of the bed.
I kicked at him, but the difference in our strength was that of David and Goliath. When my hips hung halfway off the mattress, he forced my legs apart and stepped between them.
My eyes burned with hatred as his hands skimmed up my thighs, fingers slipping beneath my nightie.
I tried to slap them away, but one hand left my thigh to catch my wrist.
He shook his head in quiet disappointment, then warning, before releasing me. My breathing turned labored when he pressed his palms to my thighs, pinning me to the bed.
Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke.
I waited, almost desperately, for his next move.
He dragged his tongue slowly across his lower lip, staring me down.
A warm heat rushed up my face. No matter how insane I thought he was, a traitorous part of me wanted to know what it’d feel like for Enzo to touch me in places he hadn’t yet.
I’d never felt so exposed, but I was grateful that whoever had changed my clothes left my panties on.
But the way Enzo looked at me made me doubt they’d stay there long.
Just as that thought hit, he hooked his fingers into my panties, dragged them down my legs, and tossed them aside. He cupped his cut hand around my center and squeezed it tight in possession.
My knees pressed around his waist, locking him in place because I was just as batshit crazy for thinking any of this was a good idea.
His grip eased, and a second later, his fingers moved through the slick heat between my legs. His stare fixed there.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered under his breath before pushing a finger inside me.
I sucked in a breath, arching my back against the mattress.
“And tight,” he added, more to himself than to me.
I clutched the blanket in my fists when he added another finger, plunging them so deep inside me that I swore he was close to reaching my heart.
His eyes stayed on my face, watching my every reaction, watching the unbearable tension roll through me.
When he shifted lower, kneeling so his face was level with my hips, my pulse set on fire. I should’ve been embarrassed with his face right there, but for some reason, all I wanted was for him to give me more before I had to beg for it.
The veins in his neck pulsed, his face ticcing, as he parted my folds with pure focus.
“See,” he muttered. “You’re not the only one who kneels in this arrangement.
” His voice lowered, now rougher as he nuzzled his lips against my folds.
“But don’t take that kindness for weakness.
This is still one-sided, but remember, I always take care of what belongs to me.
” He ran his tongue up my slit once, and his warm breath drifted along my skin.
“I’ll give you pleasure, my Fawn. So much of it that when this is over, you’ll feel empty without me.
You’ll beg for me when I discard you. For the rest of my life, you’ll ache for me everywhere. ”
Shoot, I’m aching for him now.
Burning from the inside out for him to touch me.
A sharp inhale left him and then a ptui.
I shot up, digging my elbows into the mattress, while staring at a madman.
Did he … did he just spit inside me?
Before I could ask him what the actual hell, he shoved his finger inside me, swirling it in a circle, while inching his head closer.
I cried out at his first lick, the fire inside me intensifying with each one after.
My head lolled back, my body relaxing more than it had in years as he devoured me like his favorite meal.
I hadn’t expected to surrender to Enzo like this.
I’d planned to make this hard on him, to give him hell, to show him that not all Fawns were obedient.
Damn, did he prove me wrong.
My knees shook around him, hitting the sides of his face, but he didn’t seem to care.
He only kept licking, sucking, and pushing his fingers deep inside me. I slammed my eyes shut, and I gave in to the pleasure of his tongue.
With every heaving breath, I moaned, gasped, and begged him for more. It was the first time anyone had done this to me, and instead of feeling shy, I was nearly feeding myself to him.
My bottom dipped more off the bed as I tried to bring myself as close to his mouth as I could.
He lowered one hand there to hold me in place.
I was close. So close to that moment, the one you read in books and saw in movies, when someone fell apart.
He abruptly pulled away, straightening his back, and stood tall over me. “You want to come, Blair?” He licked his lips.
I glared at him, unable to form words.
He backed away until the wall caught him, then rested against it again. “Do you want to come, Blair?”
I only nodded.
He untucked his shirt from his pants. “Crawl to me then. I’ll give you what you want.”
“What?” I sputtered out.
He steepled his hands together. “You’re probably feeling so empty right now, aren’t you?” Mockery lined his tone. “You want my tongue back in your pussy, don’t you? Come here to me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Please,” I whimpered.
He didn’t say another word.
He’d said his piece, given his demand, and now it was my turn to follow it.
My need for my pleasure outweighed my logic. I slid off the bed and dropped to my knees.
Our eyes met like a car crash as I crawled on all fours to him. The rug’s texture was rough against my skin. It was better than concrete at least.
He unbuckled his pants when I reached him.