Chapter 54
Aurora
Saying I do at the wedding ceremony, I felt an unimaginable, almost physical relief.
As if I’d been yanked out of a whirlpool of sharks, each one trying to take a bite, with one of them wearing the same silk scarf as my mother.
Now, I’m finally breathing oxygen, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face.
Desire is my sun. My black scorching sun.
In his formal suit, with his tie knotted and his hair slicked back, he looks like a Mafia boss from the movies—dangerous, commanding, a dark prince.
He kisses me and leads me to the car, where Steve and Kelsey are already waiting.
Discussions with my parents and a formal reception for the Kingdom will come later.
Right now, the four of us are speeding off to Savannah again to drink and dance as if tomorrow will never come.
“You’re the boss’s wife now!” Kelsey spins me around by my hands under the club’s deafening beats.
“Kiss my ring as a sign of loyal service!” I extend my hand with the black diamond.
She laughs, but I can’t take my eyes off the ring on my finger.
The black diamond sparkles in the spotlight, and I still can’t believe my happiness.
Do I love him? I don’t know. What we feel for each other, what we crave, is more fitting for two demons than ordinary people, but what does it matter as long as I’m finally happy?
That’s enough for me. And for Desire too.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back. The heat of his melds with my skin, his cock a hard bulge pressing into my ass through the thin fabric of my dress. “I want to dance with my wife.”
I turn in his arms, and a thick, syrupy sweetness spreads through my body from his scent alone.
Today, I don’t look like that sweet, frightened girl from the basement.
The gold choker is still on me. I like how it looks with the white cocktail dress.
My lips are painted with blood-red lipstick, my lids are shadowed with deep dark tones, and my eyes are rimmed with thick black eyeliner.
Heavy mascara makes my gaze from beneath my lashes heavy and wicked.
I look at him through this makeup, and that demonic essence I was thinking about a moment ago awakens in me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my heated body against his chest, while Steve and Kelsey dance nearby. “Are you going to tear my dress off again and chain me to the bar?” I whisper, my red lips stretching into a smirk.
He runs his thumb along my lower lip, smearing the lipstick slightly, and his gaze grows even darker.
“No, babe. This time, I’ve prepared something more interesting.
” Little devils dance in his eyes, promising me a night I’ll never forget.
“In a place that will impress you. Where no one will hear your screams but me.”
Excitement washes over me at the mere hint of a surprise. I feel my cheeks burning, and Desire seems barely able to wait for the track to end. His dark eyes roam up and down my body, as if he’s ripping this dress off me in his mind.
After we say goodbye to Steve and Kelsey and get into his Maybach GLS, Desire pulls a strip of thick black fabric from the glove compartment.
“Turn around.” His voice is low, with those vibrating notes that make my knees weak.
“Is that necessary?” I lick my painted lips and offer him the back of my head.
“No. But I want to.”
The fabric covers my eyes, plunging me into complete darkness. I flinch when Desire burns my neck with a short kiss before tightening the knot. Soon, the car starts moving, and the world narrows for me to the scent of the leather interior and his cologne.
I listen intently to the sounds: the hum of the engine gives way to the crunch of gravel, then I hear branches scraping against the windows. We’re somewhere in the woods. The road becomes rough, the car bouncing over bumps, and I grip the seat.
Finally, we stop. Desire opens my door and helps me out. He leads me, holding me tightly by the waist, and I feel the ripple of his steel muscles against my skin. In the darkness, every touch feels a hundred times sharper.
“Careful, there are steps here.” His hand on my lower back guides me forward. I grip his elbow. A door creaks, and we cross the threshold. A light switch clicks, cutting the silence.
“Squeeze your eyes shut. Open them when I tell you.” His voice is right next to my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine.
I close my eyes, and the knot at the back of my head loosens. The fabric slips from my face.
“Open.”
I slowly open my eyes. My vision doesn’t focus immediately, but when the outlines of the objects become clear, I cry out, pressing my hands to my chest. There’s suddenly not enough air in my lungs. The armchair …, the bearskin rug by the fireplace …, the massive oak furniture.
“I made sure everything here stayed exactly as it was that night,” Desire says with satisfaction.
My gaze falls on the open door to the basement, leading into the darkness where it all began. A leaden weakness spreads through my knees, my legs buckle, and I sink onto the carpet. My body trembles, and low in my belly, against all logic and horror, a treacherous heat ignites.
He could have taken me to fucking Hawaii or rented a villa on the French Riviera, but no …, for our honeymoon, he brought me back to the lair where the maniac kept me on a chain and only took me out to drain my bone marrow.
“Are you out of your mind?” I hiss, unable to get up. My body shakes, my palms digging into the carpet fibers where I once lay choking on my husband’s semen. “This is Thornton land!”
“The Thorntons are bankrupt. I bought this house.” Desire smirks, as if that changes anything. “They swept the place, ripped out the old alarm system, and removed the hidden cameras.”
“And that’s supposed to comfort me?” I flare. Rage mixed with panic boils inside me.
“No.” His voice drops low. “What should comfort you is that I’m here. And that my …, no, our darkness is far worse than the kindergarten you survived here.”
“Thanks for not minimizing my PTSD,” I snap, a prickly lump rising in my throat.
“You don’t get it.” He squats so close that his lips stop inches from mine.
Words get stuck in my throat. I stare mesmerized into his bottomless eyes, breathing in his scent, which now seems like the only anchor in this horror room.
“It’s just that you chose me …,” he whispers.
“You said you wouldn’t let me leave,” I toss back out of sheer contradiction. Of course, I chose him. I chose him long before I let him put the ring on my finger, but the last thing I need is for him to think dragging me to the maniac’s cabin is romantic.
“True.” He smiles, and there’s so much predatory delight in possessing me in that smile that an electric shock runs through my body.
“Be that as it may, Rory, a far worse life awaits you than Alistair’s imprisonment.
My world is full of blood and death. You need to leave the past here. Step over it and never look back.”
“How do you imagine that?” My voice trembles.
He runs his palm along my neck, making my pulse race wildly. Then he stands up. “I’m going to make you come in this house of your terror. Again and again. Until your moans drown out your screams within these walls. Until you start associating this place only with me and your orgasms.”
Fucking Desire. I want to bury my face in my hands and burst into tears, but instead, I stand up, swaying, and look him straight in the eyes.
Only the devil knows what it costs me. My gaze darts around the room: there’s the radiator he chained me to, and there’s the armchair where he sat casually, ordering me to give him head as a sign of “gratitude.”
“You’re a monster!” I hiss, and he answers with a consenting, predatory smile.
“Your monster, Rory. And you’re my princess. And we’re married.” He wraps his arm around my waist, squeezing me so tight I can feel every button on his jacket against my skin.
“I hate you right now,” I breathe against his lips, even as my body melts from his closeness.
“No.” His breath burns my skin. “You’re afraid of me. And you want me. Nothing has changed since our first meeting, except the ring on your finger.”
His grip tightens, and my breath hitches. A low, vibrating growl escapes his chest, piercing me to the bone. “Fuck, I’ve turned myself on,” he rasps.
“At least someone here is having fun.” I try to snap, but my voice fails me, dropping to a whisper.
“Don’t lie to yourself. I can’t see what’s between your legs, but I’d bet you’re already wet.” He squeezes my breast. Blood rushes to my face, and my nipples throb painfully, pressing against the lace of my bra.
He leads me to that very armchair, the one he sat in while I, chained up, gave him head.
“Want a repeat?” I swallow hard. My legs have turned to jelly, and my body is ready to sink down.
Desire sees my weakness and smirks, but instead of pushing me down, he turns me around. “With one small change,” he whispers, pressing on my shoulders. “Sit, my princess.”
My knees buckle, and I sink into the deep leather seat. It’s so unexpected that I gasp. But what happens next makes my heart skip a beat. Desire drops to his knees right in front of me.
“You’ve surprised me,” I exhale, looking down at him.
“A little role-playing game.” His voice is muffled, vibrating somewhere around my hips. “I’m not wearing a chain, of course, but I’m ready to feast on your pussy.”
He pushes my legs apart, even though they’re ready to burst open at his touch. Desire drags me by my hips to the very edge of the chair and throws my calves over the high armrests. Pushing aside the lace of my panties, he digs into me like a hungry animal feasting on his last meal.
My eyes roll back as his hot tongue teases my clitoris then abruptly penetrates my vagina.
It’s too sharp, too much. I’m desperately looking for something to catch my eye on, so as not to go crazy with pleasure too quickly.
I stare blindly at the dark holes in the windows, clinging to the rough ceiling beams.
It’s no use. The world collapses into a black dot when his teeth gently nibble on sensitive flesh, and the next second, he sucks my clitoris into his mouth, creating an unbearable vacuum.
“Damn paradise …,” he mumbles between breaths before thrusting his tongue deep into me.
Agree. This house isn’t so scary anymore. At least not until I look toward the stairs. I’m still not ready for the basement.
“We’ll be going down to your old room soon, Rory,” he says without looking up from my clit, and his words vibrate right where my orgasm is born.
Fuck! Devil, save me. Or at least don’t let me fall off this chair.