Page 80 of Iris' Lying Eyes
Shaking my head, I try to protest, but it dies on my tongue. And I squeeze my legs together, trapping his head between my knees.
“B,” I cry, and he grunts, drinking me in. No sooner have I stopped shuddering than he’s surging into me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my fingers into his arms.
His hands tighten on my hips, and he spins me away from the door. We fall to the floor, where he rests me gently on the hardwood and pumps frantically.
Beads of sweat form on his forehead, and I wipe them away, my heart thundering as he chases his pleasure. It’s beautiful and horrible, all at the same time. Because when he looks up and stares into my eyes, I see something that crashes through me like an icy bucket of cold water.
I can’t afford another weakness, but it’s too late now.
∞∞∞
Two frustrating, long days pass before Bastion finally leaves the house. During that time, we’ve tiptoed around each other, only meeting up at night to come together.
I exist in a perpetual haze of suspicion that heightens my awareness and leaves me exhausted. I know there’s more. There has to be, but until I figure it out, I’m stuck. It could be as simple as him using me to bring out John.
If so, why lie about everything else?
In any case, now that he’s gone, I prepare for a little field trip only to stare with disbelief when his goon says, “Sorry, Miss, no can do.”
“Excuse me?” I say, crossing my arms and infusing a bitchy, who-do-you-think-you-are tone.
He’s immune, though, and turns away without bothering to respond.
“Nice,” I grumble, turning back to the house.
Okay, fine. I’ll walk, but I am going. You don’t say no to the fucker in charge.
Ten minutes later, I round the house from the backside and melt into the trees beside it. I know from before that there are a series of bushes that may be easier to get through than scaling the wall. Not that I haven’t climbed a wall or two in my time, though.
The key is to act casual. I belong here. I’m going for a walk, nothing to see. I’m standing in the trees, staring at the shrubbery, when a twig snaps behind me. Going rigid, I suck in a breath to lambaste whatever goon is about to try and stop me.
“Where are you off to, little pussy?” Roman says, and I spin around.
The nickname is reprehensible but showing a reaction would only please him more. Of course, if he sought me out alone in the midst of B’s huge yard, I assume shit is about to go down.
“What do you want?” I sneer, raising a brow. Every particle of my being is urging me to run and not look back, but Roman, the fuckinghunter, enjoys the chase. It would be foolish to step into a trap.
His dark eyes narrow, and he grunts out a breath before grabbing my arm. The grip stings, but it’s no match for the panic constricting my lungs as he pulls me deeper into the trees.
Shit. Glancing back, I search the area for a guard but come up empty. What was a boon just a minute ago has now become a fucking death sentence. Is the jerk going to kill me? Here and now?
“What are you doing?” I ask, struggling in his grip. He shoves me forward, and I put out my hand to keep from face planting in a tree. My wrist twists with the impact, and biting my tongue, I swing around and step to the side.
He eyes me with a weird glint before his mouth curls into a smirk. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Then what the fuck do you want?” I spit, regretting my words when he grabs my hair and forces me to my knees.
The familiar action burns at my chest, but I stare at him defiantly. I won’t bow to this fuck. I won’t bow to anyone ever again.
“I think you’ve been gone too long. You need to be reminded of your place. Which is on your fucking knees, hm?”
When I don’t answer but inject every ounce of hate in my heart for this man and all the others into my stare, he sneers. “Not so tough now, are you? Where’s the girl?”
“What girl?” I ask, flinching when he wrenches me around and presses my face into the dirt.
“I’m gonna give you one more chance to get this right. If you don’t fucking tell me where she is, I will cut off your tongue and feed it to the fucking dogs.”
What dogs? It’s the only thought I get to have before Roman twists my head and leans into my face. “Well?”