by James Tate
I had to know. And there was only one way to find out. I needed to confront Catherine, and I needed to do it in a way where she felt free to confess all of her sins. Which meant I could not take Beck or any of my guys with me.
That’s why I asked about the gun. Because Catherine was psychotic and unstable and I was going to walk right into her lair and accuse her of a lot of shit. I might not come back from this, but even that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop me from going.
This showdown had been a long time coming.
First though, I was going to love Beck like this was our last time together. Just in case it was.
“Butterfly,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my pulse point in my neck and his breath warming my skin. “Why are you asking about your gun?”
“No reason,” I lied smoothly. “Just sentimental attachment. It’s the first gift you ever gave me, you know?” A pang of guilt forced my eyes shut, just in case he caught me out. The ease at which I’d just lied to him almost scared me. Delta was changing me.
Beck pulled back from me a fraction. Just enough to look me in the eyes when he used his thumb and forefinger to bring my face to his. My lids flickered open, and I held my breath, waiting for him to call me out.
For a long moment, he just stared back at me. Neither of us blinked, and the only movement was the rise and fall of our chests together.
“What did I do right in a previous life to deserve you?” he finally whispered. His voice was full of emotion, and my eyes dampened. He held so much self-loathing for who he was, when none of it was his fault. He didn’t ask to be born into Delta any more than I did. The only difference between us was that I got the opportunity to grow up as a normal kid.
Really, I should be thanking Catherine for giving me away. She did me the biggest favor of all, allowing me the love and support of real parents for almost eighteen years. The loss of my parents still cut like a knife but fuck if I would change anything. I had something that Beck, or any of the guys, had never had.
I should thank her, but I was probably going to kill her.
How oddly appropriate that she turned me into a killer, allowing me to even entertain the idea of shooting her right in her Botox-filled face.
“Who says it was a previous life?” I whispered back to him, stroking my thumb over his rough, stubbled cheek. “I think we’re pretty damn perfect for each other just the way we are.”
His cheek twitched, and I silenced what was sure to be a disagreement by pressing my lips to his. It was a gentle kiss at first, tender and... dare I say, loving? But Beck and I didn’t really have the sweet, tender sort of relationship of romance novels and our kiss quickly deepened, turning hot and possessive as he rolled me on top of him and slid his hands up my rib cage to cup my breasts.
His thumbs skimmed across my hard nipples, and I let out a little whimper of encouragement. The lace of my bra was thin enough that it may as well have not been there at all, but still...
“Beck,” I started, but cut off with a groan as his mouth closed over one of my nipples through the gauzy fabric. He sucked and nipped at me, his fingers toying with the other one until I was writhing all over his hardened shaft and desperate for more.
Finally, he reached around behind me and unhooked my bra, releasing me long enough that I could slip it off and toss it across the room. His warm hands were back on my breasts right as my lips found his again, and I hissed with the sheer pleasure of his skin against mine.
“Damn, Butterfly,” he murmured between teasing kisses. “Did I ever tell you how perfect your tits are?” He rolled my nipples between his fingers again, driving me wild. “Because they seriously are.”
I quirked a grin as I slipped from his grip and shimmied down his body. “You’re no slouch yourself, Sebastian Roman Beckett.” I licked my lips in what I hoped was a really sexy way as I peeled his boxers down and eyed his cock.
“Riley Jameson, are you—” his silly question cut off as I ran my tongue up the length of him and swirled around the tip. “Yep. Yeah you are. Fucking shit.” His words dissolved into a groan as his fingers tangled in my hair, and I closed my lips over his dick and sucked.
His control issues were only going to allow me so long, but I made the most of it while I could. My hand worked his lower shaft while my lips, tongue and sometimes a little bit of teeth took care of the rest. His tight hold on my hair—controlling me—pushed the limits of my gag reflex, but instead of feeling dirty and cruel, it turned me on harder. I loved that feeling of him taking what he wanted, even though it was me blowing him.
Right when I thought I had him, when I thought he was about to lose it, he hauled me up and flipped us in a tangle of limbs. Next thing I knew, my face was against a pillow while my ass was high in the air, my naked cunt exposed to the cool night air.
Where the hell had my panties gone, and how did he just get them off me so fast? It was dizzying, but there was no time to ask silly questions. Beck’s mouth closed over my pussy, and I moaned, long and low.
Apparently, he was in the mood for revenge. His strong hands held my ass, spreading me wide and allowing him unhindered access to lick and suck me to the point of trembling. But even so, he wasn’t done. Right as I was sure my orgasm was going to hit, he stopped.
But then...
“Is that—?” I blurted at the distinctive sound of something vibrating.
Confirmation came quickly as Beck toyed with me, running the buzzing head of my new vibrator over my aching lips and dipping it in and out of me with infuriating shallowness.
“I found this in your drawer earlier, when I put your gun there,” he commented as he teased me. “How long have you had this, hmm?”
My response just came as a strangled squeak as he pushed the vibrator deeper and delivered a quick lick over my clit. “Uh, not long?” I replied when he withdrew it, even though I was silently begging him to keep going. “Eddy gave it to me as a housewarming gift.”
He hummed a thoughtful sound under his breath, but obliged my mental pleas by pumping the purple silicone toy in and out of me a few more times.
“Well then,” he murmured, his breath hot on my throbbing pussy. “Remind me to thank her later.”
His weight shifted on the bed, and I craned my neck just in time to see him stroking a fist down his erection. He caught me looking, and just smirked at me before pulling the vibrator out and replacing it with his huge cock.
“Fuck,” I halfway screamed as he slammed the whole way in. He was a clear sight bigger than the toy Eddy had given me, so that first thrust held an edge of pain while my walls stretched and adjusted to accommodate the new intrusion. It was a pain I craved, though, and I writhed under his grip, praying that he’d move.
Beck let out a small, self-satisfied laugh as I whimpered and squirmed, but his hands were tight on my hips—holding me still. “I’m really getting the impression you like it rough, Butterfly.”
“Fuck yes,” I gasped, totally past the point of discretion. “Sebastian, please, please, fuck me hard.”
Thank all the deities and stars and whatever the fuck else, he didn’t require any more encouragement. In fact, he stepped it up a notch by bringing his hand down—open palm—on my ass cheek and making me yell.
Fuck me. What was it about that sharp sting of pain that just drenched my cunt?
Beck fucked me exactly how I wanted him to. Hard, fast, dirty and possessive. When he ran the vibrator over my clit, I exploded in a screaming, thrashing mess.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathed. “Shit. Holy wow.”
A strangled sort of grunt came from Beck as he held my hips tight and kissed my spine. His cock was still lodged deep within me, and it quickly became clear that he wasn’t finished with me yet.
“You good?” he asked, and I nodded into the pillow. “Good.”
That was all the warning I got before Beck pulled out, flipped me over onto my back and thrust back inside my still pulsing pussy.
I moaned, long and
languid as he started moving again. Slower, this time. All my nerve endings were lit up from my intense orgasm, and I draped my arms around his neck in an almost drunken haze.
Beck kissed me while we fucked. Slow and gentle but still with all that dominant ownership that he held in his eyes every time he looked at me.
Except ... we weren’t fucking any more. What he’d done to me doggy style, torturing me with my vibrator and smacking my ass until I came—that was fucking. This...
“Sebastian?” I sighed, loving every inch of skin that touched along our bodies. “Are you...?”
I couldn’t even say the words. Yet another thing for my therapist to handle.
“Making love to you?” he murmured back, smoothing my hair back from my face and meeting my heavy lidded eyes. His face was serious and ... vulnerable. It scared the shit out of me, but at the same time it was as though all my bones has started buzzing with excitement.
“Yeah, baby. Because I think something’s on your mind, and I just want you to know how I feel...” he trailed off, kissing my lips in little, teasing pecks.
My breath caught in my throat, even as my legs curled around his waist, pulling him deeper. “And how is that?” I pushed, despite the near debilitating fear running through me.
A small smile pulled at his lips, and when he replied it was totally without hesitation.
“I love you, Riley.”
The sheer conviction in his voice, the naked honesty on his face ... it was too much.
I panicked, kissing him deeply and continuing to kiss him—preventing any more conversation—until he came inside me. Beck wrapped me in his arms, hugging me tight on just this side of snuggling until I wriggled out of his embrace and gave him a sheepish smile.
“Just going to clean up,” I explained. “Back in a sec.”
Without waiting for a response, I scurried my butt into the bathroom and cranked the shower. But no amount of soap was going to wash away the revelations of the night. Beck loved me. And if I wasn’t such a massive pussy, I could have admitted that I loved him too.
But with all the broken trust and heartache I’d only just started to get over, I wasn’t ready to voice those heavy feelings.
Not yet.
32
It took hardly any time for Beck to fall asleep, and even though my exhausted body kept pushing me to do the same, this was my only chance to escape without any of them knowing. I knew it was stupid. I was well aware I was the fucking moron heroine in the scary movie that deliberately ran away from the highly trained men that cared about her and were trying to protect her. But I was starting to understand that stupid heroine better, especially with my recent situations.
Sometimes the stupid decision was the best one for sanity, and I needed to know about Catherine and Dante. I needed to know before I lost my fucking mind, and since it didn’t appear they were going to let me talk to Dante any time soon, there was only one person who could tell me anything.
Sliding from the bed, I stared down at Beck for a few minutes. Even in sleep there was a coiled lethality about him. I’d have to be very stealthy to even have a chance of getting away; it was only that he was exhausted I even had a shot.
Silently, I opened the drawer and removed the gun and magazine filled with bullets. They slid almost soundlessly together, and I left the room to grab some clothes from my bathroom. Jeans, a hoodie, and my converse was all I needed. Catherine didn’t care if I wore a bra when I confronted her about being a lying bitch of a human.
The last thing was my keys. The butterfly and I were going for a drive tonight. As long as I didn’t wake any of my guard-dudes.
I made it out of my apartment and into the elevator without incident. As the doors were sliding closed, I kept waiting for someone to shout my name and rush forward, but no one did. When I entered the parking lot, I had the gun ready in my hand, and I was on high alert. I hadn’t forgotten about the last assassination attempt.
No one disturbed me, and I got into the butterfly without a problem. I clicked the button to open our automatic gates first, and then I started her up. I really wanted to give her a few minutes to warm up, but the engine was so loud that I was afraid it would somehow alert the guys, so I just carefully backed out and pulled out of the parking lot, closing the gate behind me. It was very early morning, the sun just starting to make itself known to Jefferson, and I was basically the only one on the road. My heart rate picked up as I made my way closer to the Delta estate, and when I pulled into the first set of armed gates, I was sure they could hear the beat from where they stood. “Name?” one said, looking at his sheet and not at me.
“Riley Deboise,” I said back.
His head jerked up, and he stepped aside. “Sorry, Miss Deboise. I did not recognize the car.”
I waved a hand at him. “No problem. I’m just here to visit my dad.”
He smiled, and stepped away. “Have a nice visit.”
Not fucking likely, buddy.
When I got closer to the estate, I parked the butterfly beside some bushes, and went the rest of the way on foot. I knew it was going to be next to impossible to surprise her, considering all the security, and the fact that the front guards had probably called my arrival in, but I was at least hoping not to give her too much advance notice. She might take off. Or plan some horrible shit to do to me.
A surprise attack felt like the right move.
Out of the car, I checked that the safety was on on my gun, and slid it into the front pocket of my hoodie. Then, creeping around, I did my best to avoid the camera, knowing the angle where I could stand to be out of sight. I used a stick to press the buttons and unlock the gates.
A lot of my plan was relying on the hope that Richard had not changed the code he’d given me to enter with.
Sure enough, it opened smoothly, and I slipped inside. I wasted no time, sprinting like my life depended on it down the driveway. When I got closer to the house, I silently debated with myself about trying to sneak in, or just knocking on the front door and getting it over with. I’d almost settled on sneaking in, because I might get a shot at looking through Oscar’s room first, when something caught my eye.
I hit the ground hard, wincing as the gun rammed into my gut. I shifted to ease off the hard metal, while remaining partially hidden by the rose bushes that lined the circular driveway. Catherine was right there in front of me, on the front stoop, talking to someone who had his back to me. Someone who was definitely not Richard Deboise. The man was tall, standing above her even when she was in five inch heels, and there was something vaguely familiar about him.
I needed to get closer so I could listen in, but I was afraid any movement would draw attention to me, which would limit whatever I could find out from whomever Catherine was meeting so early today. It was probably a lover; wouldn’t surprise me at all if she was cheating on Richard.
Sure enough, she reached around and threaded her fingers through the back of his hair, blood red nails flashing as she pulled him closer.
I shook my head at the cliché of it all. Rich woman having an affair. My god.
They kissed for a long time, passionate, pressing their bodies together. Catherine was clutching at him like he was actually important to her, and that shocked me a little. I didn’t think there was anyone important to that bitch. As he went to turn, she pulled him back for one last kiss, and he must have said something nice, because she smiled, her face softening.
Then he turned around.
My gasp was muffled, because I’d managed to bury my mouth in my arms just in time.
Holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck and more fucks.
Catherine wasn’t just kissing any old random.
It was Graeme Huntley.
Catherine was kissing her brother.
##
To be continued in Broken Legacy
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