At her words, I instantly go still. Even as a boy I knew we were meant to be. It made me angry that she could not see it. Leaning forward, I place both of my elbows on the table, and link my fingers together to glare murderously at her. “Liliana,” I say. “Be very careful.”
It is her turn to laugh. “Why? What are you going to do? Force me again?”
As calmly as I can, I push the chair back and rise from it. I want to walk away, but she refuses to let me leave.
She jumps to her feet and attacks me further with her accusation. “Is it not the truth?” she demands, and I stop in my tracks. “What then are you accusing me of? You said that I was the reason for your father’s death, but the truth is you are the reason. If you had only controlled yourself that day he would still be alive now.”
I feel the knots of fury within me begin to tighten dangerously. She is going to push me into killing her. “You really want to die, don’t you?” I ask.
I see the fear flash instantly in her eyes, but her voice is strong and sure. “If killing me will bring you peace then by all means do it, but first I need to know what exactly I did wrong? Why are you so hell bent on punishing me when you are as guilty as I am?”
I move, and in an instant I am on her, my hand encircled murderously around her neck. I knew she would push me too far. She claws at my hold as it chokes her, struggling to set herself free, and the more she struggles the tighter my hold becomes around her pale scrawny neck. Then tears come to her eyes. The moment I note them I feel a sharp shard of pain in my chest. It adds to the turmoil brewing in my heart.
I loosen my hold and see all the blood returning to her face. She lets her hand fall away and then croaks out, “I’m sorry, you are such a fucking child. You refuse to see that the real blame is all yours.”
I cannot recall how it happens, but a flash of fury blinds me from coherency. I feel every nerve in me tighten and in the next moment she is on the floor and cowering in fear. I stare down at her in shock. Not certain what has startled me more. The fact that I could have actually hit her, or the feeling in my body. As if I just thrust a knife into my own gut and twisted it.
Turning around, overwhelmed by emotions that I can’t understand, I feel myself stagger away. I have only gone a few steps when she bellows out my name.
“Brand.”
I come to an instant stop, but for what, I am not sure. A part of me wishes, hopes and even dares expect that she will somehow put me out of my misery. But how? Who can take this knife out of my flesh?
I turn back to look at her, still crouched on the floor. “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”
For a second I stare at her in amazement, then my whole body reacts to her calm words. I forget to be angry or miserable. “Let’s eat,” I find myself saying, as I change course. I head over to my chair to take my seat and spread the napkin across my lap as if nothing has happened. I ring the bell and minutes later Lindy comes in with our starters. Silently, she starts to serve us. The food smells very good. I pick up my cutlery, but find I cannot eat a thing.
My gaze lifts and lands on her. She is tucking into her meal hungrily. While she is unconscious of my gaze she has no defenses up and she just looks young and innocent again. Like that girl I was smitten with so long ago. The one that I was determined to make mine, only I was so overwhelmed by my own feelings I came across as rude and horrible.
She looks up and her eyes catch mine. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She butters a roll and carries on eating. Lindy comes to clear away the plates. “Was the food not to your liking?” she asks, a frown on her forehead.
“I’m not hungry.” My voice is sharper than I intended.
Liliana lifts her glass of wine and takes a small sip. The room falls silent. Lindy brings in the main course. Confit of duck legs in port sauce. It is accompanied with buttered samphire, crushed potatoes, and finely sliced carrots.
Once again I can barely look at my food, but Liliana polishes off her plate. I’m surprised she doesn’t lift it up and lick it clean. That brings to mind an eye-popping image. Lindy comes in to clear away the plates, and she pointedly does not mention my untouched food.
“Next up,” she announces, “is chocolate pudding with raspberry sauce.” It is her specialty and my favorite, but I decide to skip it. There is only one thing I want to eat. My swollen cock can no longer be ignored. “No. No dessert for us.”
“But I wanted dessert,” Liliana says peevishly.
“That will be all, Lindy. Go out and lock the door behind you,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off my prey.
“Goodnight, Brand,” Lindy says, and goes out of the door. The sound of the key turning echoes around the room.
“What now?” Liliana challenges, her eyes sparkling like gemstones.
“Now, I eat you,” I say, rising.
She sees me coming and hastily gets to her feet. I expect her to try and escape, but instead she stands her ground, blood in her eyes. It turns me on even more, and by the time I reach her I am close to exploding.
In a moment her back is slammed against the table. I grab both of her thighs in my hands and jerk her legs open. Ignoring her curses I push her skirt up to get to her sweet cunt. Ripping off her goddamn grannie panties in one swift jerk, I pull her towards the bulge of my hard cock. I grind my hips brutally against hers, the groan arising from my throat raw and animalistic. My arms go around her protesting body to hold her in place and for a moment, as I try to catch my breath, it’s almost as though I am holding onto her for dear life.
“Let me go, you big ugly brute,” she says between gritted teeth.
My answer is to take a nip at her neck. Her breath comes out in a rush of excitement, before she catches herself and increases her resistance, but the more she fights the more aroused I become. Her puny struggles urge me to trace brutal kisses down her heated skin until I get to her chest. Once and for all I rip her shirt apart. There will be no more wearing this ugly piece of shit in my house.
The buttons fly in all directions as the shirt falls open. I make short work of her bra. One flick and I’m in. I yank it away to reveal her beautiful breasts. With one hand I grip both of her wrists and twist them behind her back so her breasts are exposed and pushed out towards me. I stop for an instant to take in the riveting sight, but in my moment of distraction she drops her head back and swings it furiously forward and head butts me.
A sharp pain shoots through my skull. I see stars and lose my grip on her hands. As I stagger backwards, I see her recoiling even worse from the blow. She holds her head in her hands to contain the pain.
I can’t help the bitter, taunting laugh that flows out of my mouth. “This is rich. Your father is a Class A thug and that’s the best you can do! You have been sheltered, haven’t you? Jake Eden’s little princess. So precious, I had to pay the greatest price for even daring to touch you. And all these years I’ve been dying to have you … to see if you are indeed special.”
I can feel my temper careening out of control once more so I look briefly away from her. By the time I return my gaze to her, she has her shirt pulled tightly in her hands to cover her chest.
“I’d rather die than let you touch me again,” she declares, her face white.
“Go ahead,” I encourage callously. “There’s a knife on the table next to you. You should know how to make it work. You are Jake Eden’s daughter, after all.”
With her eyes on me she does as I have suggested. I watch her hand slant as she brings the one edge of the knife to the base of her throat.
I laugh as I move closer to her. “That’s the blunt end, sweetheart. You’ll be a long time dying that way.”
Suddenly, with a cry of fury, she swings the knife in my direction. I jump back and evade the blade, but she manages to slash the sleeve of my shirt. I look down. I had not felt any pain, but blood seeps through the white material. I look up at her and smile softly. “There, I drew your blood this afternoon,
and now you’ve drawn mine. Now I can get down to the business of fucking you.”
She swallows hard, then places the sharp end of the knife across her slender throat, and shuts her eyes. Her hands are shaking and I realize with a sharp pang of panic in my chest that I have pushed her so close to the edge she might actually go through with it.
“Go ahead,” I say to her as coldly as I can. “But just remember your father will join you shortly.”
Her eyes shoot open.
“Deathcap Mushrooms,” I say. “Have you heard of it?”
“There is not yet any known cure for this poison … it is one of these things if you ingest it … you die horribly as your kidneys and liver give up. A very painful and slow death.”
She has become as quiet as death.
“I briefly considered taking him out with a bullet, but where is the retribution in that? Too quick. He deserves to suffer as I did.”
Her hands begin to lower from her neck.
I cock my head as the thrill of sweet victory flows through my veins. “Have you changed your mind?”
She flings the knife away, then roughly jerks the shirt off her body, and chucks it away. “Alright then,” she says coldly. “You want to have me, go ahead.”
No words come to my head. For as long as I can remember I dreamed of this moment. Her complete capitulation.
“I was once incredibly attracted to you.” She swallows hard. “I can’t lie. I still am. Go ahead and fuck me Brand Vaughan. I will enjoy every single moment of it, I promise you. Let us both be out of our minds together. This is between you and me. Leave my family out of it.”
My grin was from ear to ear.
Chapter Thirteen
Liliana
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uelHwf8o7_U
His smile is sick.
The complete absence of humor in it makes me feel as if a reptile is slithering over my body. Even so, and unexplainably, I cannot deny how intensely my body is responding to his. I spent the whole afternoon telling myself I hate him and it is no good. One look at him and all I want to do is throw myself at him.
It is clear fighting him is not doing me any good. Short of somehow killing him, or myself and causing the demise of my father, I see no other way than to succumb to him. At least until I overcome my own madness, or a window of opportunity to escape arrives. Once I am away from him and close to my family again I am certain I will regain my sanity. I do however have one last question.
“Brand, can you really not see how unreasonable your need for revenge is? No matter what the unfortunate consequences were of my actions they were unintended. I was just a child. As you were. You can’t possibly still be this angry and bitter because an eleven-year old child told her father a boy kissed her. What is the real reason why you are so bitter towards me?”
Just as I expected he doesn’t respond.
It confirms my suspicion. “You do not know yourself, do you? What you do know however is that you cannot get me out of your mind, can you? You’ve been trying countless of times over the years. So you’ve blamed me for everything … your grief, and perhaps even your guilt for what happened to your father because of your desire for me.”
He drops his head in barely restrained temper and I realize that I am getting to him. I go on.
“You want to kill me, but at the same time you want to have me. You cannot make up your mind and it’s tearing you up, but one thing is for sure. You want to see me suffer … just as you have.”
He lifts his head then and I watch as his gaze slides over my breasts, the hunger in them evident, and then his eyes travel back up to mine.
Something cold grips my entire body. I am sure that I have finally lost my mind. Maybe the fear and terror has gotten to me, but despite everything in me screaming to hold on to that last bit of my dignity, I reach behind and unhook, unzip, and let fall my skirt. When it pools around my feet, I step out of it and stand before Brand buck naked in the middle of his grand dining room. I feel as if I am going to throw up, but I don’t. I keep my composure and my gaze on his.
“Go ahead,” I say to him steadily. Maybe this is the only response to the madness between us.
He stares at my body saying nothing.
“Where will you have me?” I demand. I look towards the expensive wallpaper, I know it is expensive, because my mother has it on her dining room walls too. “Against the wall?” I glance at the polished hardwood floor. “On the floor?”
When he doesn’t respond I swing my head towards the expanse of the dining table. Purposefully, I head towards the middle, and with a long sweep of my hand, send the carefully arranged food and utensils to the ground. They crash to the floor, plates, cutlery, silver salt and pepper containers. The crystal decanter of red wine somehow manages not to break, but spills its precious contents on the floor and rolls in a circle. A magnificent porcelain vase smashes to pieces, scattering the flowers inside it haphazardly. The water runs quickly in all direction and mingles with the red wine. It is a fine mess I have made. My mother would be horrified.
I pop myself on top of the cleared table, and do the unimaginable. I spread my legs wide open.
Then I meet his gaze, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest, I can almost hear nothing else. He walks over to me, his stride unhurried, his eyes never leaving mine. When he is a foot away from me he stops. Very, very gently, he pushes two thick fingers into me. My mouth opens in a silent gasp. For a few seconds, his fingers remain still, then he withdraws them. He brings his fingers to my face and runs the wet pads of his fingers horizontally across one cheek then the other. As if he is painting the stripes that Red Indian and certain indigenous tribes do to their faces.
“You were better when you were a Warrior Princess, wild and fierce,” he says almost sadly.
Then he turns around and strides out of the room. The shame that comes down upon me in that moment makes me want to run away and never see him again. I am unguarded. I look out of the window. It is snowing lightly and I know I will not survive out there in my torn clothes. I do not know how I manage it, but somehow I get myself off the table, pick up my clothes, put them on and walk out of there as calmly as I can.
Chapter Fourteen
Liliana
The knock to my door almost makes me jump out of my skin.
It is either Brand or one of his other staff. I hear the key begin to turn and the decision is taken away from me. Shutting my eyes, I sink my head into the pillow and feign sleep.
Footsteps come in and stop for a moment before moving away from my bed, and towards the coffee table. There is some shuffling around and then eventually the clink of plates against each other. I lift my head and see that it is Mrs. Parks.
Her smile is welcoming as she calls me over for the meal that she has just laid out, but my reply is rude. “Go away and leave me alone.”
“I just spent an hour on my hands and knees cleaning the dining room,” she says, and I instantly feel bad. It is not her fault. I did not mean for her to suffer the brunt of my violent reaction to Brand. “You have to eat breakfast. Please join me.”
As if on cue my treacherous stomach begins to growl in protest. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
She sits down and starts pouring coffee into a cup. “If I were you, I would keep my strength up. Who knows when you might need it.” She takes a sip of coffee and looks at me over the rim of the cup.
I rise. “I’ll brush my teeth first if you don’t mind.” After brushing my teeth, I join her on the couch.
She holds up a plate of finger sandwiches and I take my pick. White bread with scrambled eggs. The sandwich is gone in two bites. I reach out and take another with ham and tomatoes. It is delicious and before long I am going for a cucumber sandwich. I am even hungrier than I expected so it is only about midway through the meal that I lift my head and meet Mrs. Parks watching me as she chews in a very ladylike fashion. It is a bit unsettling after the way I have been making a pig of myself.
S
he immediately catches on to my discomfort. “There’s already a lot to make you uncomfortable,” she says apologetically. “I don’t mean to add to it.”
I stop eating and study her. She has genuine kind eyes, but along her graying hair, there are smile lines all over her face, or are they lines from hardship? She is my best bet of formulating any kind of escape or trying to find out more about Brand.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you know Brand personally?” Or is he just your employer? It’s just that he called you Lindy.”
“Brand came into my life a long time ago, I think he was about fifteen at the time.”
My heart catches in my throat as I realize that Brand was the same age when he left my father’s employ. “How did you meet?” I ask, my tone more eager than I wanted to let on.
“I met him at a soup kitchen in South Ealing. He used to come in almost every morning and evening like clockwork. I was there for breakfast and dinner too so I didn’t have much pity to give, but what struck me was how young he was. He was always dirty and unkempt, but one day he came in bruised and bloodied. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.”
She stops and sighs heavily at the memory. “You see he was always so surly and aggressive no one dared go close enough to ask him what had happened. I was the only one who walked up to his table and sat opposite him. I took my slice of bread and put it next to his bowl of soup. To my surprise tears rolled down his black and blue eyes. The tears never stopped. He cried so much that his soup doubled in size. He even cried while he ate.” She worked up a smile at the joke but it was so sad that it instead made my heart ache.
She went on. “He hid it well, so no one else noticed but even if they had, every one of us in that place were at the lowest in our lives. Tears were the only currency we had … and we had them in abundance.”
A Kiss Stolen Page 6
