All He'll Ever Be

by W Winters

  I needed him to. And every time his lips trailed down my neck, I tried to capture them. Tried and failed. He knows I want him though. A shudder runs through my body at the thought and it’s met with the dull ache between my thighs.

  He fucked me until I couldn’t move anymore and even as I laid on my belly on the mattress, unable to grip onto it, unable to keep my back arched as he commanded me to. Even then he rutted behind me, pistoning into me and giving me a punishing fuck.

  Last night I was his whore. He balled my hair into his fist and pulled back so he could rake his teeth along my neck and force my body however he wanted it.

  And I wanted nothing more.

  The realization should startle me more, but instead, all I can think about is that he knows I want him to kiss me, and yet he didn’t let me.

  It’s different when he’s with me. The security I have with him is everything.

  The sane part of me knows it’s not healthy and that I should keep fighting, but the sane part of me is the only part of me that’s held captive in this reality. If only I let it go, I feel free.

  Free enough to feel safe for another day.

  Free enough to know that what happens in the war will happen regardless of whether I’m here or not.

  Free enough to slip on the dress that Carter’s laid out for me and stare at the image of a beautiful woman in the mirror. One who I envy. One I can’t believe is me.

  With my hair smoothed and clipped at the side, the bit of makeup adding a definition of beauty to my porcelain skin, I feel so much like a songbird who sings soft melodies of hope, with her wings clipped in a gilded cage.

  My fingers graze over the delicate lace and my eyes close, remembering last night.

  The bruise on my ass sends a reminder of the pain through me as I smooth the soft lace down my curves. The sensation is directly linked to my clit and instantly my body begs for more. For me to put an ounce of pressure against the bruise.

  A soft breath leaves me, a wanting one at that, and when I open my eyes, Carter is standing in front of me.

  My heart slams and then does a soft trot. As if it’s galloping toward him, even though he’s the one walking toward me.

  Each step is deliberate, but with a softness I’ve never seen from him and it captures every bit of my thoughts.

  “You look beautiful, songbird,” he says, and his voice is like velvet as he rounds me. His steps echo in the bedroom as he walks in a half circle and stops at my back.

  I can hear his breathing hitch as he pulls at the lace, sliding it up my backside and sending a thrilling shiver up my body. His fingertips trail ever so gently along the marks. “Beautiful,” he remarks before hiding them under the lace once again.

  “Thank you,” I dare to whisper, meeting his gaze as he walks to stand in front of me. My fingers slip to the hem of the dress, toying with it to hide the anxiousness of wanting to touch him as he’s just touched me. I’m not allowed to today. When he opened the door to the cell, he told me if I obeyed every wish of his today, I would never see the cell again.

  One day, and the rules of the game change forever.

  A million thoughts are scattered through my mind, but only one of them matters.

  “I’ll be good tonight,” I tell him in a voice I don’t recognize. One of obedience, but also strength. “I won’t disappoint you.” A past version of me would slit my throat before letting herself hear those words. There’s only a faint blip of pain in my heart at the realization.

  The earlier version of me was foolish.

  This version of me will survive. And this version has the audacity to admit that I enjoy it. Every fucking bit of it. To be wanted by a man so powerful who wants for nothing is a heady feeling.

  “Aria,” Carter says my name in a way that makes fear blossom deep in my gut. “You’re going to want to defy me,” he tells me, and the worry shows on my face. I can feel it tugging my lips down as it dries out my throat. He stalks in a circle around me, occasionally picking at the lace of the dress. They’re cages. Each of the pieces of lace is a birdcage. And there’s never been a dress that’s adorned my body as beautifully as this one does.

  “You may even hate me,” he says in a purely seductive cadence. His hot breath tickles the bare skin of my neck as he whispers at the shell of my ear, “But you will obey me.”

  I nod my head and then croak out, “Yes, Carter.” It’s so silent in the room with neither of us speaking, moving or even daring to breathe. It’s so silent I swear the darkness itself could whisper and I would hear its threatening tongue.

  “Your necklace suits this dress perfectly,” Carter says out loud although I don’t think the words were meant for me.

  Absently, I roll one of the pearls between my fingers and then feel the thin chain slide under my thumb as it moves to the diamond teardrop. It feels heavier tonight. Everything feels heavier when Carter looks at me like he is now.

  With dark eyes that pin me in place and keep me still, right where he wants me. It’s a silly thing, how the same gaze that once caused fear to ripple through my body now only heats my core and begs me to bend at the knees for him.

  “Thank--”

  Carter places a finger against my lips, silencing me. The small touch is addictive and the tension of the dinner tonight amplifies.

  “Remember what I told you last night.” He speaks as he toys with the necklace, holding the large diamond and lifting the weight from me. “You will kneel beside me, and you will obey every command.”

  Instantly my body heats. I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, wanting to ask him so many questions, but I already know he won’t answer. There’s only one thing to say. “Yes, Carter.”

  A moment passes, his eyes searching my gaze for something and I can hardly breathe.

  “After tonight, no one will question that you’re mine.” His eyes darken and the flecks of gold that are buried beneath the coal there turn to fire. A fire that ignites my own and soothes the worries.

  “Come with me,” he commands me as he reaches for my hand.

  Chapter 29

  Carter

  My walk is calm and steady, even as Aria freezes.

  The cocky smirk stays plastered on my lips, even as sickness stirs in my gut.

  Every bit of my body is screaming to act, but this is for her. It’s all for her.

  “Come,” I command Aria as she stares straight ahead at the entrance to the dining hall. Her chest rises in slow motion as her lips part with the hint of a shaky breath. “Aria,” I say, and her name slips from me like an admonishment, “I said come.” The demand is there, but the look she gives me in return is one of defiance and betrayal. There’s so much hate in the dark greens and ambers of her eyes that I almost regret this.

  But she needs this. That hate for me won’t be there for long.

  Stephan and Romano’s shared rumble of deep laughter is the only sound in the large room as they see her. With the blood-red velvet curtains shut tightly, the only light in the room shines down from the scattered crystals on the chandelier.

  The smell of beef wellington, seated beautifully at the center of the table, greets us as we enter the room. The light shines off the butcher’s knife beside it.

  Aria’s walk is hesitant but she obeys me, even if there are tears in her eyes.

  “I was beginning to think I’d have to come up and get you,” Jase says as I take Aria’s hand in mine and motion for her to kneel beside my chair across from Stephan. Her palm is clammy, and her grip tight as she lowers herself to the floor. The pain I feel for her is nothing compared to what she’ll have in only moments.

  As quickly as she can, she tears her hand from mine. And again, laughter from the two guests echoes off the walls.

  “Still so defiant.” Romano’s eyes sparkle, but I ignore him, taking my seat.

  I hate that for the moment I can’t keep my hand on hers, but soon I’ll have her again.

  “No need,” I tell Jase, meeting his gaze and forcing
a smile on my lips that grows as I turn my attention to Stephan, nodding a greeting and then turn to Romano. “Thank you for coming, gentlemen.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Stephan says at the same time as Romano nods his head, the thin smile growing on his lips and turning wicked.

  “It’s a delight to see you’ve taken a liking to our gift.”

  Anger burns deep in my chest at the memory of him having his hands on her only weeks ago, but it stays where it is as I return his smile, placing my hand on the back of Aria’s head. She remains stiff, not leaning into my touch, which only intensifies the fire inside of me. But I will have patience, even if she tests me.

  “I wish I could see her better,” Stephan says, sitting up from his seat for a moment and making a comical face. Jase gives him a bit of laughter, I’m sure because he knows what’s coming. He’ll enjoy this, but not nearly as much as I will.

  “No sense of humor?” Stephan speaks to Daniel and then glances at Declan, both of them quiet. It’s only the seven of us in the room, although the kitchen is abuzz with the sound of dishes being plated. And the men waiting for my order.

  “I know a few jokes,” Daniel says wryly, but then he picks up his drink and leaves the unspoken words hanging in the air. Romano’s shoulders stiffen and a hard gaze meets his eyes.

  “Come up here, Aria,” I say and pat my lap and then glance at Stephan. “I’d like for our guests to see you better.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Romano’s tension ease. The room is silent, so silent I can hear my songbird swallow as she stands up on weak legs. I’m quick to pull her into my lap, pressing my hand against her ass and reminding her of last night. Her eyes widen, and she gasps, thrilling the men she doesn’t dare look at.

  “Excuse her,” I speak to no one in particular. “She’s not used to company.”

  With all eyes on her, I place her exactly how I’d like her, nestling her ass into my crotch and wrapping my arm around her waist. “Relax,” I whisper into her ear, knowing full well the other men can hear me. Her hair tickles against my jaw and shoulder as I move it from one side of her back to the other so I can expose her neck.

  “You can’t say hello to an old friend?” Stephan asks.

  “If I recall, she’s more fond of begging.” Romano’s comment doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “She’s a little frightened,” I say before kissing the crook of her neck and feeling her body relax for the first time, although I know the moment will be gone before I’d like.

  “One of the many Talverys who will fall to their knees,” Stephan gloats and raises his glass to toast, but I don’t reciprocate.

  “I thought she would, but she betrayed me last night,” I tell them and reach for a goblet of water.

  “Betrayed?” Romano’s voice is low.

  I nod and look to see how my brothers react to my words.

  “I thought she was doing well?” Jase comments and leans forward in his seat to look at Aria, his stare commanding her to look at him, which she does, but only for a moment. Her head is held high, but her glassy gaze stares at nothing.

  “She tried to kill Daniel,” I tell Jase and he gives me a look of shock but then turns to Daniel, who’s smiling.

  “Kill you?” he questions Daniel.

  “As if she could,” he says, leaning back in his seat. Aria struggles to breathe as we talk about her in front of her like her presence is a meaningless joke. But everything has a purpose.

  “It was only a knife.” Daniel looks at me as he answers, and I reach for the one in front of me.

  “This one?” I ask him, and Aria rocks forward a moment, her ability to stay strong being questioned. When I peer up at her, her eyes are shut tightly. “Look at me, Aria.” My words are lethal on my tongue.

  Instantly, her eyes open and a scattering of tears lines her lashes. Instead of wiping them away, I hold up the knife and ask, “This one?”

  She shakes her head gently. “No,” she says, the word a mere whisper. I can feel the pounding of her heart.

  “Take it,” I demand as I grab her hand and put it over the handle of the knife. “Would you like to use it on him now?” I ask her.

  “No,” she says and her voice trembles, but again she shakes her head and answers me. “How about on me?” I offer her. “Would you like to slit my throat, Aria?”

  “No.” Her answer is a barely spoken breath and her grip on the knife loosens.

  “I told Daniel this morning,” I begin, addressing Romano to my right and giving him my full attention, “that it was his fault. There was no fear of him and what he’d do to her.”

  Romano considers me, his brow raising and his lips turning down into a frown before he nods in agreement. “Fear is powerful.”

  “I choose other tactics,” Daniel speaks up and then looks at Aria as he adds, “I let her do what she thought she needed to, so she could at least feel that she’d tried.” His voice is neutral, devoid of the empathy I know he has for her. It’s all a show. That’s the real difference between us; Daniel likes to hide behind an image.

  I am the image of what’s to be feared. It exists in my being and there’s no hiding it.

  “Do you remember me, Aria?” Stephan dares to ask her, leaning across the table to be every bit closer to her that he can.

  “Oh, she does,” I answer for her as she struggles to respond. “My poor Aria, I know this is hard for you,” I say and hold her tighter, although she’s stiff doing her best to stay seated on my lap.

  “I imagine it is,” Stephan says and then adds, “She’s grown to be just as beautiful as her mother.”

  My blood sings with both rage and vengeance, and it’s a feeling I adore. A smile creeps across my lips as I confide in him, “She sings for me, but the memory of you is strong enough to stop it.” I turn to Aria, letting my finger trail over her shoulder to slip a lock of hair to her back and then turn to Stephan. “I can’t have that.”

  Confusion mars his face for a moment and I let time pass for a moment in deadly silence.

  “I could give her a different memory to hold onto,” Stephan suggests and the laugh that creeps from Romano’s gut is tight with tension.

  “I don’t believe Carter enjoys sharing,” Romano comments, but I hold up my hand to stop him, speaking only to Stephan.

  “I do believe she needs a different memory. I’m tired of hearing her cry out in her sleep.” As I speak, Aria’s expression crumples and I pull her closer to me, forcing her back to my chest and whisper in her ear, “Should I let Stephan fuck you?” I don’t let them see the anger, the hate, the deep-seated pain of watching my songbird relive the memories in front of her tormentor. They can’t see yet, but they will suffer. I swear they will pay.

  Deep in my core, I have the fear of breaking Aria, of pushing her too hard, but she needs this.

  “Carter,” Jase warns, and I only shoot him a gaze of contempt. If this is to go as planned, Romano is the witness whose testimony matters. His perception is the only one that matters.

  Aria breaks down at the mere question, her reality again failing her. Each bit of her shatters with hope fading from her very existence. It’s then I know I’ve truly broken her and the beautiful shards of what used to be Aria Talvery can fill the crevice of my soul she broke long ago. And I can use those pieces how I’d like. Creating perfection in her from what’s been broken.

  As she gasps an answer, a plea from her lips that only I can hear, I pull her tighter to me, feeling her warmth and her small body pressed securely against mine. The knife is still in her hand, although weakly held.

  “You still have the knife, Aria,” I remind her. “Would you like to cut me now?” As I ask her the question, her hazel-green eyes strike me with every ounce of pain she feels at this moment. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asks, her small voice revealing her agony.

  I let my fingers slip up her dress as Romano says something I don’t care to listen to.

  Letting my lips trail along the bac
k of her neck, I whisper just for her. “Do you think I’d let him fuck you?” I ask her and press my fingers to her clit, forcing her to push back and feel my cock on her bruised ass, hard at the very thought of what’s coming. “That I would let him even imagine taking what’s mine?” The hiss of my voice travels throughout the dining room, but I’m certain no one could know for sure what I’ve asked her.

  Her eyes, still shining with unshed tears, finally meet mine and stare back at me as she whispers, “No.”

  A smile threatens to pull at my lips and I let it as Romano and Stephan cluck their tongues in disapproval, as if they have any control at all over her. As if they know what’s coming.

  I rock her into my lap again and the sweet gasp that parts her lips brings a light to her eyes. A light that I’ve given her. Only me.

  Bringing my lips to the shell of her ear, I whisper, “Do you think I’d ever,” I stress the word, “let him touch you?” As I prompt her, the demeanor of my guests change.

  “No,” she says with the strength of realization. My sweet girl. I watch as her breathing calms and she glances at Stephan and then Romano before looking back at me and answering me again, her head shaking and letting those locks play around her bare shoulders. “No,” she repeats softly.

  “She’s rather bold, don’t you think?” Romano asks Jase, who doesn’t respond to him.

  “I love how strong she is,” I say aloud, ignoring the comments from Stephan at the end of the table for a moment before adding, “Her will was difficult to break, but it was worth it.”

  Declan speaks up, tired of the show I imagine. He has no patience and he states pointedly, “The dinner is getting cold.”

  “Of course.” I lean back in my seat and splay my hand against Aria’s stomach to push her small body against mine. “Would you like to carve the meat, Aria?” I ask her and glance behind me toward the kitchen. “Bring out the plates in just a moment,” I call out and catch Romano’s gaze. “This chef is to die for.”

  “I can hardly wait,” he says beneath his breath.