CHAPTER 16 AILEEN
CHAPTER 16
AILEEN
Soft hands caressed the sides of my body, and I arched into the touch, sighing when a heavy, hard weight came down on top of me, caging me between him and the bed.
I stared at the chiseled chest of the man whose hands now rested against my ribs, just below my breasts. Arching again, I muttered, “Please ...”
The hands cupped my mounds from below, making me gasp as he began kneading them, his hot breath hovering over my mouth. Refusing to have even an inch of distance between us, I grabbed his face and kissed him.
Growling into my mouth, he pushed my legs apart and settled between them, his erection nudging at my entrance. Excitement caused wetness to leak out of my pussy, and I wrapped my legs around his hard, sexy body and wriggled my thighs, wishing he would enter me.
He grabbed my wrists and shoved them down on the mattress as he stared at me with midnight blue eyes gone neon. He then teased at my entrance with his cock, and I whimpered, needing him closer. Deeper.
“Admit that you are a monster,” he murmured then, “and I’ll give you what you want.”
I couldn’t speak. I was lost to the sensation of having him on top of me, so hot and sexy and unbearably gorgeous, I was drowning in endless need.
“Say it, Aileen,” he whispered against my lips. “Say that you’re a monster, undeserving of love.”
I froze as I suddenly took him in again. I realized then just who exactly I was having on top of me, willing to enter me, and my desire quadrupled along with my horror, now that his harsh, cold words penetrated my desire.
“No ...,” I said, taking hold of his face as despair rose from deep within, mixed with blinding lust. “Ragnor—”
His hands curled around my neck all of a sudden, his face full of terrifying apathy. “Say it.”
I thrashed under him, and lust burned in his eyes again. He let my neck go and grabbed my ass, angling me higher so his hard length grated against my wet entrance. “Fuck, Aileen,” he murmured. “Fuck—”
“Ragnor,” I exhaled his name as I tried to reach release. “Ragnor, please—”
My eyes blinked open as I woke up, short of breath and sweaty and so fucking horny, it was unbearable.
Before I could think twice about the fact I’d had a sex dream about Ragnor, I slid my hand under my shorts and found my pussy slick with need. Gritting my teeth and feeling both ashamed and needy, I flicked my bundle of nerves and cried out as those midnight blue eyes penetrated my mind, memories of his touch rising to the forefront.
I rubbed at my clit quickly and roughly, needing to find release more than anything else, and thoughts of Ragnor’s mouth on mine, his teeth grazing the skin of my neck, his magnificent cock pushing in and out of my pussy with power that had always left me wanting more—
“Fuck!” I cried as the orgasm tore through me, causing spasms to take over my body. I rode it until I finished, feeling dissatisfied despite the release.
Because it wasn’t enough.
I might have hated him, but my body remembered Ragnor’s touch and craved it. Seeing him again had caused that need to come to life once more.
But I knew that the only way to satisfy that need was in the darkness of my bedroom and nowhere else.
And that made me want to cry in frustration and anger.
Yet I still had my pride. Even if my lust for him was intact, I refused to give in.
He’d hurt me so badly I was still picking up the pieces.
There was no way in hell I was letting him have me again.
The next day, I didn’t see Ragnor at all, which both relieved and irritated me. Because for the entire night after my wet dream and little masturbation session, I tossed and turned for hours, thoughts of him filling my head, until I could barely have an hour of sleep.
He was so eager to talk to me yesterday, and now, it was as if he decided I wasn’t worth his time. Typical Ragnor, thinking of me as disposable. What an asshole.
Thankfully, I had work to keep me occupied, and even though it was hard, what with Ragnor refusing to let me be even in his absence, I managed to scrape an essay together to hand over to Zion at the end of the workday. This essay was about the works of Demetria, the sculpturer Atalon had introduced me to back on my first day. Since she was going to be a key figure in the upcoming gala event, what with her artwork being famous in both vampire and human art-curation circles. It was also one of the last essays I was going to write, since Zion would soon start teaching me how to be a guide. Finally.
When I returned to my suite, I took a long cleansing shower before I started getting ready. I had a date tonight, after all. My first date ever, actually, now that I thought about it.
Logan, my ex, had never taken me out on dates—and for a good reason too. Our relationship had to be discreet due to certain circumstances, so dates were a no-go.
Ragnor’s and my relationship hadn’t been much better in that regard. We fucked in secret, and when we didn’t fuck, we were constantly at odds, what with him not wanting to get serious and me begging him not to sell me to anyone else in the Auction.
Needless to say, we’d never gone on a date either.
But it seemed third time was the charm, because Atalon wanted to take me on a date first. It was actually quite flattering; he didn’t seem to be after my body like Ragnor had been. Though there were a few questions that still lingered in my head, the main one being, Why did he want to date me in the first place?
I knew he was interested since he bought me in the Auction. He hadn’t tried to hide it either; we had dinner together in the cafeteria with half the League present, and he’d made his intentions very clear, both with his actions and his words.
Atalon was a courteous man, but as proven to me yesterday, he wasn’t above using all means at his disposal to get what he wanted. But the question remaining was why.
Whatever his reasons were, I nevertheless had agreed to this date, and so I had to put in my best effort. I might not be interested in Atalon that way—he was handsome, sure, but unfortunately wasn’t my type—but I could at least give it a go. Perhaps he would charm me tonight.
Perhaps he would make me forget all other Lords.
Or perhaps I should simply consider this date as an opportunity to learn more about my current Lord.
I put on the fanciest dress I owned—the simple black dress Zoey, my former suitemate in the Rayne League, had lent me what felt like ages ago. It didn’t look special when hung in my closet, but when I put it on, it fit like a glove, molding itself to the shape of my body. It looks better on me now than it did the last time I wore it, I couldn’t help but think as I studied myself in my bedroom mirror.
Once I had makeup on and my hair pulled into its usual tall ponytail, I slid my feet into short black heels, grabbed my checkered black-and-white purse, and walked to the living room.
When she saw me, Eleanor paused the movie she was watching, stood up, and walked toward me. “Take this,” she said and handed me an envelope. “Give it to Isora when you see her.”
I didn’t tell Eleanor the details of how and why I managed to secure a visit with Isora, but all she cared about was that at least I would get to see her. “I will,” I replied somberly and put the letter in my purse.
Eleanor let out a breath. “Tell me everything when you come back,” she said, and just then, there was a knock on the door. Giving me a strained smile, she said “Good luck” before she returned to the couch and resumed her movie.
After taking a deep breath myself, I murmured, “Thanks” and opened the door, sliding outside to the corridor so Eleanor wouldn’t see who was waiting for me.
Atalon was dressed impeccably in a crimson three-piece suit with a black shirt, a silver tie, and a pair of shiny black leather moccasins. His platinum hair, too, received a special treatment, with it being meticulously slicked back and probably gelled to the max, because not one hair, not even the tiniest one, was out of place.
His alabaster skin seemed especially pale in contrast to his clothes, especially with how clean shaven his jaw was. It suddenly made me wonder what age Atalon was when he was given the Imprint, because unlike others, he could’ve easily been in either his twenties, thirties, or forties at the time. He looked that ageless.
This agelessness fit him, though, because he looked good. Very good.
It was a shame, really, that clean-cut men weren’t my type.
“Good evening,” he said, pitch-black eyes raking me down and back up with heat that made me shift a bit uncomfortably. “You look gorgeous.”
Refusing to fuck this up, I forced on a grin and said, “Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself.”
He chuckled. “Thank you too. Now, shall we?”
He offered me his arm, and I put mine in his, letting him lead us away from my suite and toward an express escalator leading to the top floor of the underground compound. It was where the Atalon League’s reservation-only two-Michelin-star restaurant, Le Beau, was, among other forms of entertainment for the League members. But something told me Atalon wasn’t taking me bowling.
My thoughts were confirmed when he said, “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I am,” I said, though appetite and hunger were two different things. “I hope Le Beau is as good as everyone says.”
Atalon gave me a grin. “Put your worries to rest, tesoro , and have a little faith.”
I raised my brow. “Tesoro?”
His grin widened, and he leaned toward me so his breath tingled my ear. “It means darling in Italian. I would’ve preferred to call you mi amore , but we’re not there yet.”
That made me shudder, though for all the wrong reasons. First, he was far too close for my liking. Second, receiving a pet name before the date even started felt far too intense. And third, assuming that we would get to the mi amore part at some point in the future made me want to bark out that taking that for granted was in very bad form.
But I was here to give this date my utmost sincerest chance. So I forced a chuckle and ground out, “How nice.”
He seemed to like my response, because he straightened with a triumphant glint in his eyes. That did not make me feel very optimistic about our date to come.
We arrived at Le Beau, and the host showed us to our special reserved table meant for two. It also had the best view out of everything else; it was at the end of the terrace that the restaurant was built on, and it overlooked a pretty inner courtyard with a fountain and everything.
The other guests wore clothes as posh as Atalon’s, to the point that I started to feel underdressed. But Atalon didn’t seem to share my sentiment, because he sat with pride, as if he wanted to show me off or something absurd like that. He didn’t need to try so hard, though; the other guests were openly staring at us, probably wondering what the hell their Lord was doing with a mere Common like me.
Which was a very good question.
Once we put in our order, Atalon turned to me and smiled. “I’m so glad to have you for myself tonight,” he said, his eyes roaming my body from head to toe. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for far longer than you think.” The appreciation in his eyes told me he meant every word. And, as much as it had been a while since a man had looked at me like that, I was creeped out more than excited.
To be frank, I wasn’t interested in learning that. But he was waiting for the obvious question, so, pretending to be intrigued, I asked, “Since when?”
Satisfied that I was playing along, he promptly replied, “Since the first time I laid eyes on you.” His mouth turned up in a smile, and his eyes glossed over as if he was remembering our first encounter. “I hope you know how enchanting you are, Aileen. Surely I’m not the first man to plead for the pleasure of your company.” Atalon raised an inquisitive eyebrow and then ran his tongue over his thin bottom lip.
I didn’t respond to that, and not because his words caught me off guard; such clichés didn’t work on me. What made me far more alarmed was the fact that his eyes conveyed the same truth. He was being absolutely honest.
But I wasn’t dumb. I knew when I was being played, and Atalon was doing his best to play me by flirting his ass off. Had I been less perceptive, it would’ve worked like a charm. He did say all the right things, after all. But instead, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was trying so hard.
Since he was still waiting for any kind of response to his declaration, I gave him a tight smile and said, “Then I guess your wish came true.”
His shoulders relaxed. I didn’t even realize he was so tense. He was about to speak when a voice from right behind me suddenly said, “Ah, Orion, Aileen. What a coincidence.”
And just like that, I was fuming. I whipped around to see Ragnor—a sight that already made my blood boil, but seeing him dressed in a black three-piece suit with his hair down and a daylong scruff covering his hard jaw made it even more unbearable.
That, and the fact he wasn’t alone.
A woman stood next to him, a woman I very well recognized.
The woman who’d appeared in my dreams.
The one who was helping me sort out my newfound abilities.
The strange woman who seemed so out of place here, wearing a pair of faded jeans, a simple tee, and worn-out sneakers. The scarred left eye I’d seen in my dreams was hidden under an eye patch, and her unruly dark-blond hair rested on her shoulders, as though she’d just rolled out of bed.
I openly stared at her, refusing to believe my eyes. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she with Ragnor?
Eliza caught my gaze and gave me a somewhat smug smile.
I returned my attention to Ragnor, whose eyes were on me. His face was blank, but his midnight blues were twinkling with amusement. He said it was a coincidence. Coincidence, my ass.
“Evening, Rayne,” Atalon said, making me look at him. His gaze was as cold as ice, fixed on Ragnor.
Casually, as though it was obvious, Ragnor called a waiter, and once one arrived, he said, “Please join our tables.”
“Yes, Lord Rayne,” the waiter said in a trembling voice and got to it.
Atalon’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I invited you to join us.”
To my shock, it was Eliza who responded. “Don’t fret, Lord Atalon,” she said, smirking. “You can have her all to yourself later.”
Atalon would’ve responded, but the waiter was quick, and soon Ragnor was sitting next to Atalon, and Eliza was right next to me.
To say it didn’t bode well—not just for Atalon but for me too—was an under-fucking-statement.
“And who might you be?” Atalon now asked Eliza. He managed to school his face into a blank expression, but his eyes were frosty.
“Eliza Wains,” she said, giving him a big friendly smile I didn’t trust an inch. “I’m an acquaintance of Lord Rayne.”
I glared at her. “What the hell are you doing here, Eliza?” I asked, barely able to contain my anger. I hated being blindsided. I especially hated it since Eliza never mentioned she had any sort of connection to Ragnor.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Ragnor’s gaze shifting from Eliza to me and back. There was surprise in his eyes he couldn’t quite hide. If my guess was correct, Eliza hadn’t told him about her mental visits to my dreams.
Bitch.
Before Eliza could give me some sort of response, the waiter returned and asked for their orders. As Ragnor and Eliza rattled off their orders, I stared at Atalon. If I didn’t know what was going on, I would’ve thought Atalon was on a date with Ragnor, since he was looking at him with so much heat, I felt scorched. But this heat wasn’t a sexual one, obviously. Atalon was furious, and somehow not a muscle moved in his blank face.
I turned to look at Eliza, who stared at me with a Cheshire cat smile that put me on high alert. “To answer your question, I’m just having a night out with my ... friend.”
I had no clue what she was playing at, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Just hearing the hesitation in her voice before she said friend was enough to make me lose all sense. Gritting my teeth, I turned away from her to look at Ragnor and saw he was murmuring something to Atalon, which made Atalon’s calm facade crack and his eyes grow impossibly colder. Then, Ragnor must’ve felt my gaze on him, because his eyes flickered to me, and a grimace appeared on his face.
Angry beyond reason, I turned back toward Eliza, who’d been studying my face for a few long minutes by now. “You should’ve told me,” I murmured, clenching my hands into fists. “That you knew him. That you were friends.”
Eliza’s smile fell, and her face turned serious as she leaned closer. “It’s because we’re friends that I didn’t tell you,” she said so softly, I almost didn’t hear her. “I wanted to make sure that you deserved him first.”
I felt as if she’d just slapped me. “What?”
She shrugged and leaned back. “Don’t worry, though,” she said, her gaze turning pointed. “I still haven’t made up my mind yet, so you still have a chance. As long as you keep practicing what we talked about, that is.”
Since I had no idea what she was talking about, I looked away and glowered at the table.
A terse silence spread across the table, broken only when the waiter returned with the aperitifs. My appetite was gone, though, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one. Eliza ate as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Ragnor and Atalon were too busy being locked in a battle of wills with their stares.
I couldn’t take this anymore. I rose to my feet, said offhandedly, “I’ll be right back,” and walked away from the table, my emotions so haywire, I was a moment away from having a complete meltdown. I needed to get away before I humiliated myself.
Why the fuck was Eliza here? What the hell did she want from me?
But more importantly, why couldn’t Ragnor leave me alone? Why did he have to interrupt this date, which he obviously knew about in advance? Why was he trying to stir everything I’d worked so hard to turn off inside me?
I never took him to be a sadist, but it seemed that’s who he really was. Because there was no other reason for this torture.
I reached the washroom and was grateful it was empty. Then I washed my face, hoping the freezing water would calm some of my fried nerves.
“Are you all right?”
I whirled around and pushed Ragnor’s too-close-for-comfort chest. “Get out,” I snarled, glowering at him.
When I attempted to shove him again, he caught my wrists, and after last night’s dream and him messing with my emotions, his touch sent sparks all over my skin. “You’re not over this, Aileen,” he said quietly, eyes searching mine. “Just as much as I’m not.”
I shook my head and struggled against his hold, but his grip was like a vise. “I hate you,” I growled. “I hate you so much—”
“I’m sorry.” He cut me off in a somber voice, his gaze burning a bright luminous blue with an emotion I refused to acknowledge. “I’m sorry for the Auction. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back for you. I’m sorry, Aileen.”
Shaking my head, I pulled at my wrists, and this time he let go. My body moaned about the loss of his touch, but I ignored it. “I don’t care,” I said, my anger turning frosty cold. “Your sorry doesn’t mean shit. Not now, not ever.”
“Aileen—”
“I meant it when I said I was done talking,” I interjected before he said anything else to drive me mad. “So if you’re really sorry, go back to your League and stay out of my life—hell, my existence—forever.”
He stared at me silently, his face tight with barely contained anger. His eyes, too, were burning. Then he said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Excuse me?” I exclaimed, outraged.
“I said I can’t do that, Aileen,” he growled, closing the inches between us until his chest pressed against mine and his hands caged me to the sink. The way his voice whispered my name, my actual name, the one he’d refused to call me before the Auction, made me shiver. “We can play stupid games like feigning interest in other people if that’s what you want. I can keep following you everywhere if that’s what it takes for you to listen. But the one thing I can’t do is let you go again.” He paused, his eyes boring into mine. “That’s beyond me, Aileen.”
What he was saying was beyond me. “Don’t you get it, Ragnor?” I hissed, staring at him in half-shock, half-fury. “Nothing can make up for what you’ve done to me.”
His face contorted in pain, and that made my own pain rise too. “One month,” he said quietly. “Give me one month.”
I parted my lips to respond with the obvious answer, but he leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “Just one month,” he insisted quietly. “If after that month you tell me you’re done, I promise to take it at face value.”
Against my better judgment, I was torn. Because here was Ragnor, the man I’d been wanting all those months back at the Rayne League, the man I’d been craving, and he was telling me all the things pre-Auction Aileen would’ve given her right arm to hear.
But I was no longer that lovesick fool. Ragnor had made sure of it.
Yet now the very same Ragnor was the closest to begging as I’d ever seen him. And that made something inside me break. Because looking at him like this, I was reminded of when I pleaded with him to buy me out.
Did Ragnor listen?
No.
He did not.
And perhaps I shouldn’t either.
But as I opened my mouth to give him my response, the words got lodged in my throat, refusing to leave. As if some divine being was controlling my vocal cords.
So instead, I blurted the one question I’d been refraining from thinking about. The one question that really mattered. “What the hell happened to you, Ragnor?”
He leaned back and gave me a stare full of thousands of things he didn’t and probably would never say. “You happened, Aileen Henderson.”