Chapter Ten
Brit
My words echoed around us for a second before he lifted his head and then lowered his lips to mine, catching them in a kiss. I gasped as he tasted me as if I were something to devour. If we wanted to make it look convincing, we at least needed to kiss for real.
Our breath intermingled and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.
Tingles slipped through me, bouncing off every nerve in my body.
Before I could get too into it, he lifted himself away from me, to grab the blanket that was over the end of the bed.
Pulling it onto us, he hesitated as he looked down at me.
“I was nasty back there,” he said loudly, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
My gaze hardened and the shutters went down, encasing my heart. I didn't really want to do it, but I was going to, just to spite my father.
“Well,” he said, a lilt in his voice, “at least you're a good kisser.”
“Of course I am!” I smiled as he lowered himself onto me, nestling his hips into mine. “Did you think I was a completely naive woman because of who my father is?”
Raising his eyebrows, he stared. “Uh, yeah. You're a bitch because of who your father is, so why would he let you fraternize with any of his men?”
“He doesn't own me.” Anger sizzled under my skin at his words, switching from the type of desire that I really didn't want to feel for him.
His gaze was intense, willing me to understand what I had just said.
I'd been so used to believing that my father was royalty – a deity – that even when I'd rebelled, I'd still listened to him with every fiber of my being.
Shit. Fly was right, he did own me and I'd been trying to live in his vision my whole life.
“Let's not think about him,” he whispered, “we're supposed to be fucking.”
“Do you have to be so crude?” I pushed his shoulders playfully.
He grinned. “Would you prefer romance?”
Leaning down, he licked my collarbone. Not sexily, like I expected, but a long sweep of his big ole tongue.
“Ew!” I poked him in the ribs, pausing when his rock solid muscle refused to budge. “Let's get on with it.”
“You want me now?” he wiggled his eyebrows and started to kiss me again, not allowing me to reply.
No, I didn't want him. Except, thrills slipped all over my body, putting it on high alert. He pressed himself into me and wrapped his arms around my back, holding me to him. Shit, he was taking this assignment seriously. Far too seriously.
He released my mouth and whispered in my ear again. “I'm going to pretend to fiddle down there,” he said, “so it looks like I'm moving our clothes. Okay?”
Humming a reply, I exhaled as his hand slipped between us. He lifted himself, grazing his hard erection, which was still encased in his jeans, along my thigh. I sucked in a breath and my pussy gushed.
He moved about a bit, trying to make it look awkward, which it really was. When he lifted my hips, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing, or orgasming, I wasn't sure which.
“Pretend you're really turned on,” he said, keeping his voice as low as he could.
The rumble vibrated through my chest as he lay on me, holding his hips up slightly. I resisted the urge to frown, instead trying to look as if I were into it. We were supposed to be doing this to appease my father's messed up fantasy and to get out of here.
“Are you sure you want this?” Fly asked loudly, clearly understanding why I was hesitant to pretend I was turned on. My father wouldn’t buy it. Except, who was I kidding? I was extremely turned on.
“Just…” I opened my eyes, swallowing when our gazes clashed. “Do it.”
His mouth opened on an inhale and he pressed his hips down, grinding onto me. My head fell back of its own accord. There was something totally hot about dry humping one enemy to deceive another.
His arms tightened around me as we moved our hips together, simulating his thrusting.
My breath came short as my body heated, all the way from my head to my toes. It might have been pretend, but my body was not fooled, it felt like I was having sex.
“I can't believe we're doing this,” I said, loud enough so my father could hear on the recording when he came back from his Sunday feast.
Fly groaned and I opened my eyes to look at him. He bit his lip between his teeth, drawing blood as his eyes stared at me, intense and mesmerizing. He was enjoying it a little too much.
When I opened my mouth to state the fact, he winked, silencing me. His next thrust brushed right across my pussy and I had to stifle a moan as it clenched. I was horrified at what we were doing, for my father, no less, and yet my body couldn't deny the heady presence of him on top of me.
“I won't last long,” Fly said loudly, “It's been a while.”
I tried to stifle the laughter that threatened to bubble in my throat. We were acting, even if we were getting turned on by it, and it was the most ridiculous thing ever.
“Just keep going,” I said, feigning boredom so my father wouldn't get suspicious. If I suddenly orgasmed – not that it was out of the realm of possibility – he wouldn't believe it was real.
“And don't cum inside me!” I snapped. “In fact, we've done enough now, get off.”
Shoving at Fly, I panicked as he gripped me, holding me down with his weight. “Let a man pull out first,” he muttered with mock impatience.
I licked my lips as the reality of what we were trying to do sank in. Chad, my sperm donor, was a truly evil, and clever, man.
Fly fumbled again, pretending to make us decent. Except, I would never be decent. I'd stooped low… so very low. Just to try and gain our freedom.
“It's okay,” Fly whispered as he climbed off me and righted my clothes.
Standing, he adjusted himself, drawing my gaze down to his crotch. The thick length of him was hard and straining against his jeans. He caught me looking and his eyes darkened, frightening me so much I had to look away.
“I can't believe we did that,” I sighed.
“Well!” He shouted. “That sick motherfucker got what he wanted, so when he's back from his dinner, he can set us free!”
Scrambling up from the bed, I went into the bathroom, not looking behind me as Fly called my name.
Grief closed my throat and I slammed the door shut, leaning on it as soon as the lock clicked.
How had I got here? Pretending to have sex with the man I'd kidnapped to impress my father.
Just so I could be free from the confinement that my father had placed me in. It was messed up in so many ways.
Tears ran down my face as I cried, sucking air in as quietly as I could. Footsteps sounded outside the bathroom door, but Fly didn't knock, or try to come in. Instead, he retreated, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Lying on my side, I released the emotion that had been threatening since the moment my father had sold me as a whore. He knew that Fly wouldn't be able to resist his offer, and although we hadn't actually had sex, it was as close as we could've possibly come.
“Why?” I cried, holding my arms to my chest as my fantasy world crashed down around me.
For so long, I’d been a good daughter, believing everything Chad had taught me about his word.
He was so convincing, brainwashing me from childhood, telling me that he was the cleanser of people.
Convinced he was basically a deity himself, he'd taught us all that he could give us peace.
A peace that didn't exist, unless we had been blessed and cleansed by him.
The reality of what my father had been doing lodged in my gut, making me nauseous. I didn't know much about the real world and other religions, but I knew enough. Now my mind was clearer, I knew this wasn't the norm.
The pain of everything flowed out of my body and into the floor beneath me.
Hugging myself, I fell silent, leaving my wet tears on my face.
I deserved to feel discomfort, to feel humiliation for allowing those women to endure everything my father had put them through.
Shame engulfed me and I would stay there until it sunk into my soul and made me stronger.
Because I wasn't ready to give up and be a pawn in my father's games.
I had to fight him, at every opportunity I could.
Fly hated Chad, but I, I was going to end this whole place, for good. I just had to work out how to kill the man who claimed he was a saint… painfully.