Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
FENRIR
PRESENT
I turn on every light, keeping each room ablaze as the night sky frames the snow and turns the white world into a purple hue. It’s surreal, the way the darkness pollutes the purity, turning the enchanted scenery into something much more sinister.
We’ve spent the evening doing target practice in the garage.
I found it hard to focus on the lesson, to not be distracted by the sight of Hayami gripping my gun, her stance near perfect, her shots so much more accurate.
And I know she’s been looking at me differently.
I can feel the way her gaze slides over my body, like she’s eyeing up what she wants.
I wanted to fuck her in the garage, to set up our first scenario, but it’s too soon and it isn’t safe, not with loaded firearms. I need her to take the guns seriously.
She also needs time to heal, for her body to recover.
I wasn’t joking when I said I wouldn’t be gentle.
I know what I’ve done is wrong.
I can’t keep her.
She doesn’t belong to me. She doesn’t even belong to herself.
She belongs to Barrett Devall.
When the snow clears and we get the go-ahead to return to the mansion, my dream will shatter, and things will have to go back to the way they were.
We’ve been secluded up here for so long that the real world is slipping from our grasp.
I want to live in this fantasy for as long as I can, so I’m trying not to think about what happens when our time’s up, when the snow melts—and this dream along with it.
In the evening, we curl up on the sofa in the large living room and binge-watch a series on Netflix, sharing a large bag of crisps, something I’ve never done with any woman.
It surprises me how intimate it feels, how normal.
I’ve never felt anything like normality, and I can’t imagine Hayami has either.
Just before midnight, she decides she wants to go to bed.
I follow her up the stairs, her hand held loosely in mine as if she’s afraid that if we aren’t touching, I might disappear. This new contact is something I’m going to have to get used to. Before, I had boundaries I couldn’t cross, no matter how much I wanted to.
But now?
Now I have her.
All of her, any time I want. The thought is dangerous, all-consuming, and so incredibly powerful that I almost don’t know what to do with it.
She disappears into the en suite, leaving the door wide open as she gets ready for bed.
I hear the tap running, the splashing of water as I climb onto her bed and settle myself on one side, resting my back against the headboard.
Junko’s journal has been stuffed into my back pocket for the entire evening, reminding me that there’s still more to be learned before I can tell Hayami about what I’ve found.
Guilt nips at my skin at keeping this from her, but I need to be sure of the outcome. I need to be positive that what I’m about to learn can be tackled, dealt with, and addressed. I’m not looking for a happy ending—Junko’s mental health is a testament to that—but I am looking for a solution.
Hayami appears in the doorway, drying her hands with a towel and only wearing a tiny T-shirt.
My cock stirs, and I tell it to heel. Curbing my feral thoughts is nothing new.
I’m a master at keeping these feelings under control, but it appears as though Hayami isn’t.
I see the look in her eyes, the way she licks her lips as she tosses the towel to the floor and saunters over to the bed.
Straddling me, she flicks her hair over her shoulders and bites her bottom lip before grinding her pussy against my cock.
“I’m not tired yet,” she says, her hands finding their way under my T-shirt.
“And I said I wouldn’t fuck you again today, Hayami,” I remind her.
“And I respect that,” she replies, her hips swaying to an invisible tune, my cock getting harder the more she touches me. “Technically, it’s after midnight, and you didn’t say anything about me fucking you. And I owe you.”
“Owe me?”
“I watched you pleasuring yourself. Now you get to watch me,” she says.
Like the fucking temptress she is, she pulls the T-shirt over her head, and my resolve lands with it on the floor.