by Hannah Ford
He grabbed my chin as I climaxed, turning my face so I was looking at him.
“Watch me come on you,” he whispered, and then he thrust into my ass, hard, once, twice, three times, and I realized he had been holding back, that as much as he’d talked about wanting to hurt me and see me cry, some part of him had resisted that, because now I felt the full force of him, and I cried out as he pulled out and came on my ass, streams of ejaculate that covered my skin in a warm stickiness. At the same time, my own orgasm crested,
I loved watching him come on me, loved knowing that I’d caused that, that he was marking me, making me his.
When he was spent, he took a moment, letting us both catch our breath. Then he reached down and undid the cuffs on my wrists and the ones around my feet, then turned me around and gathered me in his arms.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his face serious and worried. He cupped my chin, his eyes dark and stormy, his jaw set in an unyielding line.
I shook my head. “No. Not too bad.”
“Aven,” he whispered. “God, Aven.”
He scooped me up and carried me across the room, through a door in the back of the turret, where a bedroom waited.
He whisked me through to another door, into a massive bathroom decorated in tones of gold and ice blue, and he pulled me into the glass-enclosed shower, washing me gently as the steam rose and swirled around us. His hands moved over my skin, taking care to go slow over my raw flesh.
When he was done, he wrapped me in a fluffy white towel, carried me to the bedroom and laid me down on the bed on my stomach. I watched as he crossed the room to a chest of drawers in the corner, pulled out a pair of boxers and a pair of loose navy blue silk pajama pants.
He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a container of skin balm, sat down on the bed next to me, and began to rub it onto my ass.
I winced.
“Shh,” he said. “It might sting now, but it will be better in the long run. Trust me.”
I bit my lip, and after a few moments, started to enjoy the sensation.
I closed my eyes, and just as I was starting to relax, it all came rushing back.
Violet.
Conner.
The reason we were here.
“How?” I asked softly, closing my eyes. I expected pushback, but after a second of silence, Landon answered my question, without having to ask for clarification.
“When Conner told me about Violet, that they may be getting serious, we looked into her background.”
“Who’s we?”
“Conner and I, and … some associates.”
I turned my face to the side, away from him, and bit the inside of my cheek. Some associates. I pictured a room of men in black suits and sunglasses, all of them holding file folders, pushing them across a table toward Landon and Conner, the pages inside filled with information about my sister.
“How do you know it’s true?” I licked my lips. “That they’re related?”
“We don’t know. Not for sure. All we know is that your father had a relationship with the woman who gave up Conner for adoption, right around the time that Conner was born. We’re waiting for the final DNA results.”
I gripped the comforter, trying to control my breathing. “Did he know? My father?”
“No. Conner’s biological mother made sure he never knew, that the adoption records were sealed.” Landon’s hands moved over me gently, his touch trying to soothe me, even as his words cut through my heart.
I gathered the covers around me and sat up in bed.
“You need to tell me about the stalking.”
“The stalking?”
“Yes. It’s obvious it was Conner you were taking the blame for. I need to know exactly what he did.”
Landon looked at me, his eyes blazing. “Conner isn’t dangerous.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, scrubbed at his face with his hand, then shrugged. “Conner met a girl when he was eighteen. They were together for a while. Her parents didn’t like him, and they told her as much. She sided with her parents. Conner thought if he could convince her he loved her, she’d turn her back on her parents. It didn’t work, and her parents filed a restraining order.”
“And you took the blame?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The reasons aren’t important.”
My hands curled into fists around the comforter, and I twisted the material, hard. “Stop protecting him.”
He looked at me. “What?”
“Conner! You’re protecting him.” Suddenly, everything swam back into focus. My sister was out there, with a man I knew nothing about, a man who had some kind of stalking record, a man who she could be related to.
And here I was, acting insane, letting Landon tie me up.
I scrambled out of bed and started back toward the torture room to get my clothes.
“Where are you going?” Landon asked. He stood up from the bed, gathering himself to his impressive height, his 6’3” frame looming large in the room.
“To find Violet,” I said, and my voice dripped with anger.
“You already found her.”
“Yes, but now she’s gone again. I need to find her. Are you going to help me or not?”
“Aven – “
“Never mind,” I said. I was in the room now, and I picked up my pants, shoving my legs into them and pulling my shirt over my head. “I don’t need your help.”
Landon stepped in front of me as I tried to push past him and get out of the room. “Get out of my way,” I said. “If you don’t want to help me, whatever, but – ”
“Calm down.” His tone was stern, like I was some kind of child who was overreacting about not getting an ice cream.
“Relax? Relax? My sister has taken off with someone I know nothing about, someone she could be related to, someone who could be dangerous, and you’re telling me to relax?” I shook my head. “I won’t relax.”
“Conner isn’t dangerous.”
“Stop protecting him!”
“Stop protecting Violet.”
“I’m not protecting Violet.”
“Yes, you are.” His eyes blazed. “Do you understand that Violet left of her own free will? She was here, Aven, alone, with her phone. She could have told you at any time what was going on with her, she could have told you the truth.”
“No.” I shook my head. “She was afraid.”
“She wasn’t afraid,” Landon said. “She was here, by herself, cooking dinner. You saw what it was like when we walked in. She knew you were here, and she left with him. Of her own accord, of her own free will. She wanted to be with Conner, she wanted to go with him.”
“Stop!” I said. “Just stop.” My thoughts were swirling in my head, and I pushed by him to the door.
But Landon was bigger than me, stronger, and he reached out and took my wrists, stopping me.
My heart was pounding in my chest, the blood rushing through me like a swirling tornado, the sound making a rhythmic whoosh that echoed in my ears.
“No,” he said, and now his eyes searched mine. “Violet wants to be here, Aven. So why are you so determined to try to stop her?”
My eyes closed.
My blood rushed.
My stomach churned.
And before I could stop myself, I was saying it out loud.
The one thing that I’d never been able to bring myself to say before.
“Because,” I said, and I looked Landon right in the eye. “I’m the reason Violet has no parents.”
“What?” he frowned, his grip loosening, confusion passing over his perfect features.
“That’s right,” I said, savoring it. “I killed them.”
The End of Part Five
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