She trembled again as I let her nape go, permitting her to turn to face me. Thoughts shadowed her features like dismembered ghosts, half-formed and discarded before she finally whispered, “You don’t have to see such things in black and white, Sully.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No? How would you see it?”
She shrugged. “Biology. Simple biology.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Just like I get wet and you get hard from a physical or mental stimulation, the heart suffers the same downfalls.”
“You’re saying what I feel for you…is purely reactionary?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “What do you feel for me? I asked you on Serigala, and I’m asking you now.”
I snorted and leaned into her, mixing our body heat and suffering the hiss and spark of awareness. “An epidemic over everything that I am. That is what I feel for you. A sickness I can’t find a cure for.”
“Maybe the cure is easier than you think.”
“You think we can reverse this…disease, now that we’ve accepted the diagnosis?”
“I think lying about it won’t stop the truth.”
I stiffened. “You’re calling me a liar?”
She nodded. “Utterly pathological when it comes to avoiding things you don’t want to confess.”
A groan slipped from my lips, fertilising the ground with all the bullshit I’d been trying to shove into my heart and believe. “Stop. Just stop—”
“Stop forcing you to admit that common-sense says we’re absolutely stupid but we’re past listening to that nonsense?”
“Stop being everything I fucking want…without even knowing it.” I raked a hand through my hair, my temper spiking. “Stop making this impossible for me.”
I thought this infatuation would cease as abruptly as it’d begun. I figured, the more I got to know her, the more I would be turned off. I’d convinced myself that whatever bond we shared would diminish, because there was no other way forward for me.
I wasn’t planning on discovering that with each conversation, with each new touch, kiss, and whisper that I’d struggle all the more.
My infatuation had swiftly become fascination and could quickly mutate into obsession if I wasn’t careful.
I meant what I said in Dr Campbell’s surgery.
“Why are you so perfect…for me?”
How could a girl who’d been born to different parents, raised in a different household, and experienced different things, somehow end up the perfect shape and size to fit into my jagged, haggard edges?
My dream fantasy couldn’t even compare to her anymore. That hallucination had been based purely on looks I found madly attractive. Now, Eleanor was the very utopia I’d tried to create on my cursed islands. She was bottled elixir and the magic of Euphoria…a fantasy manifested into reality.
She was inherently, dangerously risky because unlike Euphoria, this had no end. There was no waking up from this…only death could stop it.
Hers or mine…or both.
“I’m not trying to make this impossible, Sully.” She sighed softly. “I’m trying to…ugh, I don’t know. Prove that you don’t have to push me away? Prove to myself that I’m not crazy for wanting the very man who bought me. Prove that we’re both…not at fault.”
“You’re saying there’s something else to blame for this mess?”
“I’m saying it’s nature’s way of ensuring survival of each species.” She paced a little, needing to move while solving her strange interpretation. “Why can’t we look at it that way?” Her eyes lit up. “You’ve segmented animals from mankind because you see us as the problem. And you’re right. We are. Humans are a plague upon resources, environments, and everything else we come into contact with. You’re right to despise us as a collective…but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“And what’s that?” I crossed my arms, not liking where she was going, afraid that this would make way too much sense to me and I’d have no more arguments to brick up my walls.
“We are still just animals at the end of the day. Nature ensures most creatures pair up for life. They enter into a covenant the moment they meet. They raise a family. They protect each other. They survive because of each other. It’s not us…it’s nature. Our need for each other is just that…biology. Our affection is biology. This whole damn confusing connection is—”
I snatched her.
I kissed her.
I shoved her against the raised garden boxes where seedlings had never seen anything so explicit in their existence and stuck my tongue down her throat.
She moaned and kissed me back.
Violence with violence, lust for lust.
I kissed her because I couldn’t allow her to spill another word. She made it seem so easy, yet it was the hardest thing in the fucking world.
Our tongues clashed. My cock thickened. I arched my hips into her belly, blatantly showing her what sort of voodoo she cast over me. How much I wanted her, even still sore from elixir.
She gasped as I captured her bottom lip with my teeth, biting down, ceasing our kiss with a threat of pain. Her breath skated over my mouth, sweet from raspberries and kiwifruit.
Our eyes opened, so close, too close. Everything was hazy with need, and the grey smokiness of her eyes made me come face to face with the ashes of whatever I had left. Just dust and ashes and the lies I kept telling myself.
If I let go entirely, what would that mean? Where would we go from here? What the fuck sort of future would we have? I already had complete ownership over her in the form of a trafficker’s contract and hefty funds exchanged.
I didn’t need to marry her to get her to obey me.
I didn’t need to put a goddamn ring on her finger to keep her forever.
I’d skipped past those silly human rituals and used commerce to secure her instead.
While my mind ran headfirst into walls I didn’t know how to erase, she pulled her lip from my teeth. Wincing a little, she completely annihilated me by not stepping out of my hold as I expected but by wrapping her arms around my waist and snuggling her entire face into my chest.
Ah, Christ.
Her kiss was one thing.
Her hug?
It fucking demolished me. Towers, barricades, gates and all, leaving my chest an empty wasteland where my heart lay totally exposed, begging her to save it.
I shook as she pressed a kiss into my t-shirt. She murmured something I couldn’t hear. My ears throbbed to know. To have her be the first to admit that we were well and truly fucked by finding each other, but when I slid my touch under her chin and angled her face to look up, I wished I’d kept her request silent. “What did you say?”
“I asked what Calico’s, Jupiter’s, and Neptune’s real names are.”
I froze but answered her question. After all, I’d just familiarized myself with their files since this nasty catastrophe. “Calico is Sonya Teo, Jupiter is Lucy Hall, and Nep is Ally Bishop.”
“And what do you have planned for them?”
I bared my teeth. “You won’t let that go, will you?”
“No. I…need to know.”
My nostrils flared. “I plan on reminding them of their place. I’ll ensure they’ll never even look at you again. That reminder will keep you safe.”
She flinched. “I know what will keep me safe.”
Stranding them on an island with bare necessities? Selling them to a guest? Locking them in wire-bottom cages for the rest of their contract?
Eleanor sucked in a breath, searching for courage as she whispered, “Send them home. It’s homesickness that’s upset them. They’re confused and lost and seeing us…seeing what we’ve found…it’s pushed them too far.” She kissed my chest again, shivering. “They deserve to go home, Sully. Please…let them go.”
Chapter Thirteen
THE ATMOSPHERE BETWEEN US went from tentative truce to dark and ominous. My stupid request to give the girls their freedom smashed apart the strangely sweet aloneness on Lebah, ensuring Sully withdr
ew into himself.
He made an excuse of returning home to welcome a new guest, and the rest of our journey was strained and silent.
The only sound was the boat, slicing through the sea, so much faster than I’d rowed in my stolen kayak. The sky above had lost its cerulean glow, becoming ebony velvet instead. The moon was absent, but stars made up for its no-show with a spritz and bright scattering of silver lights.
Pika and Skittles had snagged a perch on the throttle where Sully commandeered us home, both of them drowsy with their little heads sagging and eyes drooping for rest.
I sympathised with their tiredness. I’d been gliding on a false high ever since Sully hinted how he felt about me, but that’d well and truly popped thanks to my stupid request.
He doesn’t understand, though.
I didn’t ask him to give up part of his business—even though a person’s life should never be someone’s property—I asked him to return what he’d stolen.
I also asked out of my own peace of mind and self-preservation. I doubted I’d ever be safe unless they got what they wanted. And they wanted Sully. It was either share himself around or return them to families who missed them. Send them back to reality and not this fake paradise that had the tendency of scrambling thoughts and twisting desires.
I’d dabbled with another request too.
If you won’t let them go…let me go.
But as the words formed, they’d burned a hole right through my tongue and into my heart. If I was free, I wouldn’t have to watch my back from murdering goddesses, but if I was no longer his…that meant I’d have to walk away from this.
I’d have to admit that my stay here wasn’t just about captivity anymore. It was about fighting for something that could transcend all of that…if we were brave enough to let it.
Asking to leave was no longer just about reclaiming what had been taken from me and staying wasn’t about being weak. I was confused. I was awakening. I’d willingly turned my back on my old life and my parents.
Oh, God.
My stomach ached at the thought of my parents. What were they doing right now? Were they happy? Were they worried? Had they given up, or were they doing everything they could to find me?
The sea rocked us, a comforting soothe that reminded me no matter where they were or I was, no matter whatever life experiences my loved ones enjoyed without me, we were never truly apart.
The ocean was one large link from their continent to mine.
Nowhere was foreign or scary when viewed in that way because everyone on earth was joined in some way or another. Just follow the sea and even Sully’s islands could be found in the vastness of the globe.
Glowing lights of villas, restaurants, and night activities for guests twinkled on the horizon, some blotted out by trees, others flickering with fire in welcome.
Pika and Skittles took wing when Sully gently plucked them off the throttle and placed them into my lap. With a big yawn and a cute chirp, they left our company and vanished into the jungle of Sully’s empire.
Odd that I knew the names of his other islands but not this one.
Did it have an Indo animal name?
Or was it just named after his goddesses?
The sea lapped at the hull as he positioned us alongside the jetty, shutting off the engine and wrapping a huge rope around the post. After locking up and stowing the key, he strode toward me and silently took my hand.
I stood and followed him to the edge of the sleek speedboat, gasping as he positioned me in front of him and lifted me to the jetty. The tingle of his fingers on my waist. The effortless strength of his lift.
My mouth went dry as he leapt the small distance and gave me a look beneath his brows. I honestly didn’t know what that look meant. Mysterious and melancholy, mangled with opinions and feelings that I doubted he’d ever tell me.
It’d grown late, but I wasn’t hungry. After nibbling on fresh produce straight from the source, I felt as if I’d had the healthiest dinner in history. Succulent and delicious from Sully’s attentive gardeners.
Then again, with the way Sully watched me, I wasn’t hungry for food…but something else only he could give me.
Clearing his throat, he strode ahead, expecting me to keep up. He’d taken off his flip-flops and abandoned them in the boat, leaving our bare feet to travel whisper-soft in the sand. Stars were eaten up by the canopy of treetops and cicadas serenaded us with frog ribbits. The shadows of bats darted left and right, scooping up tiny insects drawn to their death by lanterns.
No caique parrots to spy on us, no guests or goddesses to break us apart.
Just us.
Two people.
A man and a woman walking in the moonlight on a tropical island.
No outside world with its rules and expectations. No reminders that we weren’t really a man or a woman, but a slave and an owner.
Sully and Eleanor.
As we rounded the bend that led to the main arteries of pathways, forking to different villas and communal areas, Sully snatched my wrist and stopped me. Looking around, ensuring our aloneness, he backed me slowly, gently against a palm tree.
Unlike the first when he’d grated my cheek into the bark while he sank his hard length inside me, this time, he cradled me until the tree took my weight and he pressed his body against mine.
His erection wedged into my belly, his eyes flashed navy in the darkness, and I went wet instantly.
We both sucked in a breath as he positioned one hand by my head, looping his fingers through the scattered strands of my hair, and the other caressed my body from my breast, to my waist, to the junction of my thighs.
I bit my lip as he cupped me, claiming me like Calico had. Unlike her touch full of contempt and envy, his radiated with lust and possessiveness.
I waited for him to speak or kiss me, but he used silence as foreplay, allowing the muggy air to send shivers down my spine, the fine hairs on my arms to stand up, and the fireflies that lived permanently in my belly to wake up and start to glow.
Not looking away from me, he ducked his knees and shoved his hand under my dress, trailing his strong fingers up the inside of my thigh.
My mind went totally blank. No instincts or alarm bells. Just black, sinful desire.
I was thankful for the tree holding me up because my legs buckled as his touch crept higher and higher, tracing the dampness of my underwear before inching my lingerie to the side and fingering me.
He groaned when he found how slick I was. “I thought you’d be turned off by me…after what I said.”
My mouth only had one purpose…to kiss. Forming words seemed like trying to knot cherry stems with my tongue. “I already know what you are. I’ve already accepted that you’re not the saviour in this story.”
He inserted one finger deep inside me, his shoulder arching up, his chest pressing against mine. His mouth hovered ever so close to kissing me as I parted my lips in a wide, soundless cry.
“You’re saying I’m the villain?”
I shook my head, my hair catching in his hand and the bark. I wanted to reply, to somehow soothe the surprising vulnerability he’d shown, but his one finger became two, jolting me with both pleasure and pain. My inner muscles and delicate parts hadn’t fully recovered from what he’d done to me while high on elixir.
Bruises screamed their protest. A few cuts stung. But my body produced more lubrication, doing its best to welcome his intrusion, rather than fight it. He feathered his touch, massaging some button inside that switched pain into fireworking bliss.
“You’re wet…without me having to slip elixir down your throat.” His nose ran along my neck, his teeth grazing sensitive skin. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or a sign that we’re both completely fucked.”
I moaned as he continued to thrust into me. His forehead landed on my collarbone as his spine bowed. “Why did you let me hurt you? Why put yourself at my mercy?” His body curled close as if he struggled to stand.
My breath caught as he thrust deeper. My moan turned into a groan of discomfort. “Because I wanted you to.”
His head shot up, his brows tugging low. “Why?”
“Why?” I curled my nose. He wanted to know why when his hand was between my legs? Didn’t he know any answer I gave him would be scrambled? I might lie and say I drugged him so he wouldn’t sell me. Or I might tell the truth and say I wanted him, regardless of our situation. I might even profess insanity and spout nonsense about feeling something unexplainable…something I didn’t feel with Scott or the other partners of my past.
I might even ask that same question, fishing for his feelings, intent on dragging them from the sea of his eyes and stranding them on the shore so I knew, knew, that I wasn’t the only one struggling.
“Why are you special?” His voice resembled crushed up diamonds, a priceless dust that scratched and scarred. “Who are you, Eleanor Grace?” He nuzzled me, his fingers stroking me, claiming. “Why are you different from all the fucking rest?”
I cried out as his touch grew aggressive, halting his sudden desperation for answers I couldn’t give him, filling his eyes with self-loathing.
My insides smarted, wanting him to keep pleasuring me but also needing reprieve from being used.
He noticed, his fingers freezing inside me. “You’re still sore.”
Not a question. An observation of what he’d done to me. There wasn’t any pride on his face. No smugness that my body still wore the marks of his takeover. Instead, there was regret and a healthy dose of sincerity that I didn’t expect.
His fingers withdrew, slowly, reluctantly.
Moving my underwear back into place, he pulled away his hand, letting my skirts fall around my thighs. Rubbing my moisture into the soft material, he murmured, “If you weren’t in pain and I’d fully recovered, I’d be inside you right now. I honestly don’t know how I’m not.” His stare locked on my mouth. “But I’ve already caused you enough misery…I won’t expect you to fuck me again so soon.”
Part of me wanted to nod in gratefulness, the other growled with frustration and stomped her foot. He was being a gentleman now? After all the other explicit, exquisite moments between us?
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