Chapter Twenty-Nine
Irvin
I lean back in the executive chair in my office.
For the last week, I’ve been watching Lilac.
I tried to reason with her about going to therapy, but she refuses.
She said the psychiatrist will dope her up on medication.
Everything adds up now: dissociative amnesia, flashbacks, hallucinations of smells.
She has severe PTSD. She won’t open up to me, and she won’t tell me what happened in her past. I need to find out so I can help her.
She’s been throwing herself into schoolwork, keeping herself from thinking about Winter.
Everyone on campus is on edge, and the news spread quickly about her friend.
From what Jameson told me, parents who are part of the American Billionaire Club are debating pulling their children from the school if they don’t tighten up security.
Footsteps press against the wooden floorboard outside my office. No doubt, Lilac is spying on me. She does that often, listening to my conversations while I’m in my office studying for an exam. Right now, this class is kicking my ass, and it’s a struggle to keep my grades up because I hate school.
My phone rings. I tap the green button, then speakerphone.
“When is your next trial?” My father’s voice booms through.
I rub the back of my neck. The last trial almost destroyed my mind—the hallucinations, the pain when I thought Lilac was the one being gang-banged, the way they manipulated me into thinking she didn’t love me.
“Two weeks from now,” I answer, pushing myself off my executive chair.
I stare out the window as the wind whips through the tree limbs. The sky is cloudy, foggy, overcast. It’s usually like this in mid-February. I find peace in the gloomy sky. It soothes my soul.
“Have you found anything on her background?” my father sneers.
I wish he would drop it. It doesn’t matter anymore, and I’m already getting punished by the American Billionaire Club.
I grip the phone until my hand aches. “Why the fuck does it matter?”
Silence stretches. My father breathes hard.
“I hope she’s worth it, because if you die, then it will be all for nothing.”
“She is. Every punishment, every mind-fuck, every beating.”
I tap the End Call button and toss my phone onto the wooden desk.
The door creaks open. Lilac stands in the archway with her arms folded across her chest. I notice the see-through tank top, the dark nipples, and the striped pajama shorts riding up her ass. My dick gets hard just looking at her. I don’t bother hiding it as I adjust myself.
She studies my every movement, licking her lips as if she’s in a trance. Then her gray eyes meet mine as she swallows thickly.
I love the manipulative game she tries to play with me. It’s so cute that she thinks she has me wrapped around her fingers. She does—but not to the point where she can manipulate me out of her freedom.
She walks to the leather chair in front of the desk and sits, crossing her legs.
“Why are you on trial?” she asks.
There’s no reason to lie to her anymore.
I stand in front of her, leaning against the desk and crossing my legs.
“I married you without the board members’ consent.”
She leans forward, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You’re an outsider. Your father isn’t part of the club. I have to complete three trials. I already completed one.”
She crinkles her eyebrows. “What happens if you fail a trial?”
I shrug. “I’ll die.”
She gasps, stands up, and folds her arms, pushing up her breasts. I look down at my princess. So pretty. So soft. So mine.
“So let me get this straight.” She taps her fingers against her chin. “You’re being punished for our marriage—the marriage you forced on me. Why would you make such a reckless decision?”
I play with the ends of her hair. “I’m obsessed with you. I already told you I would go to great lengths to be with you.”
Her breath hitches. Her chest rises and falls. Heat creeps into her high cheekbones.
“I don’t know what to say.”
I stroke her cheek. Living with Lilac has been an adventure.
She keeps to herself most of the time, holed up in the library reading or doing homework.
Most days, I’ll join her, and we do assignments together.
Ever since she had a mental breakdown in the hospital parking lot, she clings to me for dear life at night.
Even on campus, she doesn’t leave my side.
She doesn’t feel safe in her own skin—afraid she might be the serial killer’s next target.
She swore there was a message on her phone from the killer, but I didn’t see it. I even asked Jameson to hack her phone. He told me there was no digital print from an unknown number.
I press my palm to her cheek, stroking her skin. I need my princess. We’ve been doing this dance for too long. I need to fuck her. Have her. I miss being inside her.
I lean down, press a kiss to her lips, and gently yank her hands above her head. I remove her pajama top. I trail my finger down her neck, to her chest, then breasts, tugging softly on her nipples.
Her nipples harden.
She bites her lip, and her eyes flick to my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Her tone is softer.
“About to make you come until you can’t take it anymore.”
“I told you already that I don’t want you,” she snaps.
Her eyes drop to my crotch, then slowly rise to meet mine.
My little liar is about to get caught in her own web. She’ll admit sooner or later that she wants me.
“So you say.”
I kiss her again and wrap my hand around her neck the way she likes it. She stands still, frozen.
I leave kisses down her neck, then clear the desk, grabbing her ass and lifting her onto it.
I lay her down and push up her lingerie.
She mumbles something under her breath.
“What did you say, my princess?”
Her eyes are heated. Her skin flushes. She licks her lips but keeps her expression neutral. “I don’t. Want. You.”
I don’t respond to her lies. She keeps forgetting I’m in tune with her body.
I kiss the bone above her pussy, and she moans loudly. I trail kisses up her thigh, then go for the kill—pressing my mouth to her clit, stroking softly.
“I-Irvin… fuck.”
Exactly what I thought. She needs this, especially after everything she’s been through.
She mumbles again. I stop.
My gaze locks with hers. “What did you say, babe?”
“I said I’m only doing this out of survival.” Her tone is light as a feather.
“Yet you just wrapped your pretty legs around my shoulders.” I smirk.
Before she can respond, I put my mouth back on her clit and suck until she slides her fingers into my hair. She yanks until my scalp stings. I eat her like I’m dying of thirst—which I am. I haven’t tasted my princess in so long. I ache for her. I need her.
“Please keep going, Irvin.” She moans loudly, squeezing tight.
Seconds later, she comes all over my lips. I lick her up, holding her in place.
“Please let me go. Stop.”
So I let her go—for now. She yanks down her lingerie and slips out of the room.
I sit in the chair, pull out my dick, and jerk off until I come all over my hand.
Lilac just doesn’t know it yet. I’m going to have her wrapped around my dick. I’ll let her believe she’s in control, give her that illusion—until I’m ready for her to admit she wants me too.