Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“Mm hmm.” His thigh drove between mine, acting for the cameras but doing ungodly things to my senses. “I know where his office is. I’m going to break in—”
“Break in?” I whisper-hissed, cold-water sizzling on my sick arousal. “You’ll get caught. They’ll kill you—”
“Quiet.” His nose nuzzled my hair. “I won’t get caught.”
All my confusion where he was concerned. All my like and dislike, despair and want whipped into a cyclone of terror.
The way he held me said I meant nothing.
The way he whispered said I meant everything.
I couldn’t find my centre anymore.
Didn’t trust what was real.
Another crush of exhaustion, followed swiftly by self-pity. I didn’t like my selfishness, but it rose anyway. “If they catch you. If you get taken...I-I won’t have anyone to take care of me.”
His eyes snapped up.
The silvery depths tore right into my soul. He didn’t speak. He merely tightened his fingers around my throat and pressed his forehead to mine.
I exhaled heavily.
I surrendered spectacularly.
And in some brainless, reckless move, I reared up on my tiptoes, pressed myself into his captivity, and kissed him.
I needed tenderness. Craved affection. I wanted an anchor of truth in all these dangerous lies.
My lips sparked with flames.
My tongue stung for his wicked taste.
For a single second, our mouths grazed—
“Fuck.” Exploding backward, his fingers unlocked from my neck. Grimacing, he wiped his lips as if I’d tried to poison him. “Don’t.” Pacing the room, he shuddered, and for a horrifying moment, I feared he’d spit on the floor to get my taste off him. “Don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me?”
I blinked.
Another bucket of ice plummeted over me.
So...he could tell me no, but I couldn’t?
He could reject me.
Deny me.
Humiliate me.
Why?
He’d kissed me at the club.
He’d kissed me after he chased me outside the castle.
He’d kissed me in the library after we’d vowed to fight side by side.
Those kisses still bruised my lips with the passion he’d poured down my throat. They’d been the hottest kisses of my life. He’d been inside me twice!
What was a silly little kiss compared to sex?
Why did he act as if I’d just committed treason against him?
He doesn’t want you, you dolt.
You’re merely an assignment.
He no longer has to act with you, only for them.
Why the hell would he kiss someone who is just a job?
Awful laughter bubbled up my throat.
He said he noticed me.
That I was different.
But that could’ve just been manipulation to get me to play along.
Maybe he’s married.
Oh God.
And here I was, fawning all over him. Throbbing for him. Ever so close to asking him to touch me because I was going fucking insane with need.
My cheeks burned.
Downstairs.
On his lap.
He’d tried to stop fingering me.
We’d strayed over a line, and I stupidly thought it was a professional one, when really, he might belong to someone else.
“Wow, I...I’m sorry,” I choked. “I didn’t mean...”
I’d felt many things tonight. I wanted to run and hide in equal measure, fight to the death and explode with an orgasm, but I didn’t think rejection would be the one emotion to cripple me.
“Ily...” Henri sighed and raised a hand, his face etching with unspeakable darkness. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, I get it.” I didn’t even care about the cameras as I trembled on the spot. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s not you,” he murmured. “I—”
Someone’s knuckles knocked politely on the door.
“Merde,” he spat. Glowering at me with everything he couldn’t say, he marched toward the door and yanked it open. “Evening.”
“Evening, Master H.” A neatly dressed server rolled in a silver trolly full of dome-covered plates. He spotted me cowering by the bed, no doubt seeing shock and horror all over me.
Giving me a sympathetic nod, he bowed at Henri, then left without another word.
The snick of the lock made me jump.
For a long moment, silence thickened between us.
Henri’s shoulders tensed.
Finally, he snapped his fingers and slipped back into his role of acting Master.
His voice was a little loud, ensuring the cameras recorded every command.
“Eat, little nightmare. The sooner you have some strength, the sooner I can have some real fun with you. I’m sick of hearing your stomach rumble every time I fuck you. ”
Stalking away, he almost bolted into the bathroom.
The door slammed shut.
The shower turned on.
I had two choices.
Let shame turn me stupid, or let sanity keep me alive.
I needed food.
That was the only thing that mattered right now.
Forcing myself to forget the awkwardness I’d caused, I dashed to the trolly in my white negligee. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t hide, but at least I could keep up whatever meagre strength I had.
With hunger-shaking hands, I whipped off the covers and dragged platefuls of fries, club sandwiches, and chocolate mud cake back to bed.
I might harbour unwanted feelings for my capturer turned saviour.
I might die away from my family, brother, and home.
This might be my last meal.
But at least if I died tomorrow, I would die while trying to survive.