by Rina Kent
Why do I feel trapped in that forest, pedalling down a dirt path but finding no way out?
“I told you not to contact me anymore.” I’m about to end the call.
“Miss, please. There’s crucial information that I think you should be aware of.”
My knuckles tighten around the phone. “What?”
“Are you certain about not being able to participate in the parole hearing? It will be in a few weeks.”
“No. If you have nothing else to say —”
“Very well. I understand your choice, Miss Harper. I would like to relay a message from my client. Mr Griffin says that if you don’t help him out this time, it’ll be like traps and hunting all over again. That will be all. Have a nice day.”
My phone clatters from my hand and hits the carpet at my feet.
It’ll be like traps and hunting all over again.
A long time ago, when Dad and I went hunting, he used to set traps for the small animals. I asked him why he did so, considering they’re put in so much pain for a long time.
Then Dad made me watch him skin a live rabbit and he told me that’s what so much pain could actually feel like.
After that, I never questioned Dad about anything he did.
After that, I kind of knew in the deepest recesses of my brain that my father wasn’t normal.
His message is clear. If I don’t bend to his will, he’ll do something worse to make me stop questioning him.
Not that he can do anything from prison.
Right?
That night, I go home late.
It’s not actually on purpose since we had a meeting with the factory manager about the production deadline for the newest launch.
If we have a good one, maybe I can buy Jonathan out. Or, at least, the majority of his stocks. I doubt he’d agree considering H&H is merely a drop in the sea compared to his other companies. However, I won’t give up on that option.
He called me twice, but I sent him straight to the generic message of ‘call me later. I’m in a meeting.’
By the time I get home, the house is quiet. I cross paths with Margot and she merely nods, then continues on her way.
“Margot,” I call after her.
She stops and spins around, her expression blank. “May I help you, Miss?”
“Is Jonathan in the dining room?”
“He retreated to his office. Dinner was served an hour ago.” She pauses. “I can bring supper to your room, if you like.”
“I already ate. There’s no need.” I sigh. “Am I only imagining it or do you actually hate me, Margot?”
“I do not hate you, Miss.” I expect her to turn around and leave, but she adds, “Might I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“You look so much like Alicia, and it feels like having her ghost in the house. But since you don’t roam the halls in the middle of the night like she used to, it’s a bit confusing, I must admit.”
“A-Alicia used to roam the halls in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, she had severe insomnia and it drove her insane with each passing day.” Nostalgia covers her features. “I had to protect Levi and Aiden so they didn’t see her in that state.”
“What state?”
“The talking to herself state. The scribbling on books and every surface state. The crying without a reason state. You name it.”
No.
That…that doesn’t seem like the Alicia I knew. It sounds like a completely different person altogether. Sure, she suffered from depression, but she had it under control. Margot must be confused, because my sister never talked to herself or scribbled on books or —
The books in her room. She did have those red circles.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundaries,” Margot says. “I know she was your sister.”
“Did Aiden know about the state she was in?”
“He probably did, but he was too young and has chosen to remember the good parts.”
“How about…Jonathan?”
“Of course he did. Who do you think protected the children from her?”
I still don’t think my sister was that bad, but I say, “Thank you, Margot.”
She smiles a little, and I feel like maybe I managed to break the ice between us.
As soon as she disappears down the hall, I quicken my pace to the third floor and go straight to Alicia’s room.
I don’t care how disturbing those books are. If they hold any evidence about why my sister kept this facet of her life hidden from me, I need to know what it is.
It’s like she lived a double life. One was the soft, sweet Alicia who came to find me and buy me things. And then there was the mentally unwell Alicia whom Margot hated so much, that she ended up automatically hating me just because we look the same.
My hand turns clammy as I sit cross-legged on the floor, my back to the bed, and read from the book.
Six Minutes.
It takes me a while to get past the first chapter, even though it isn’t long. Every paragraph, I have to pause, take a deep breath, and stop myself from getting flashbacks of the victims’ faces or the members of the public that came to find me, before I continue reading.
After the first chapter of a man burying a body, we’re taken back to three months in the past.
That’s when I start noticing a pattern.
A few words are underlined in a red pencil crayon. Others are circled.
Emptiness.
Death.
Life.
Need.
Reason.
Strange.
Following the trails of such words distracts me from the flow of the book and I find myself flipping pages just so I can find the rest of the words.
What could this mean?
I touch my watch, trying to put everything I know thus far together.
Alicia’s father was abusive. Mum told her to cut all ties with me — which she didn’t. She suffered from depression and insomnia, amongst other things.
She read such books and used the red marker to highlight things, which I’m sure means something.
With every new piece of information I learn, the hole that is Alicia’s life keeps getting bigger. It’s like I know nothing about the real her.
A sound comes from down the hall and I slam the books shut, putting them back how I found them.
I peek out from the door in case Jonathan is there. No one. Phew.
Sneaking out, I turn around to close the door as quietly as I possibly can.
“What are you doing?”
I yelp like a girlie girl at the strong voice coming from behind me. Damn Jonathan.
You know what? Enough. It’s not like I’m doing something wrong.
Facing him, I cross my arms over my chest. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m paying you a visit.”
“Paying me a visit?” He raises a brow.
“Yeah.” I brush past him and head towards his room, which is the last one to the right side of the corridor. I figured that out in one of my earlier snooping sessions.
This is a bit out of the blue, but it’s part of my ‘pushing the tyrant’ plan.
I stand in the middle of his room. It’s the same size as mine with a high platform bed and a tall French door that I’m sure leads to the balcony. The walls and sheets and even the carpet are different nuances of grey. Like his eyes. Fitting.
I don’t have to wait long for Jonathan to follow after me, but he doesn’t close the door. His height fills the entrance, and he appears straight out of a fashion show with his pressed trousers and grey shirt. Only Jonathan would look completely presentable after a long day at work.
“What do you think you’re doing, Aurora?”
“You spent the night in my room. It’s only fair I spend the night in yours.”
“That won’t be happening.”
“You want payment first? Fine.” I throw my bag on the chair, yank off my jacket and shirt, and follow with my trousers so that
I’m just in my underwear. Like that first time I came to this house to agree to his deal.
Funny how things come full circle.
Just like back then, he doesn’t make a move to touch me. However, his eyes heat with clear lust. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I simply want to spend the night here.”
“And you think that will be possible, why?”
“Because I want to. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Why now? You were completely fine with our sleeping arrangements for two months.”
“Well, I changed my mind. People change, Jonathan.”
“You don’t get to change your mind. You belong to me, not the other way around. You do as I ask and what I please, remember?”
“I want my own terms.”
“Your own terms were, and I quote, ‘what you please’.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Jonathan, okay? I can’t pretend this whole thing is fine. You have to give me something in return.”
He pauses, narrowing his eyes on me for a fraction of a second before snapping back to normal. “No.”
“No?” I snap.
“Yes, no. And watch the way you fucking speak to me.”
“I’m not leaving,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel. “I’m going to show up in your room every day. So you might as well dish out your punishment and let me stay here.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other. I don’t back down, even when my skin turns hot and tingly. Even when the look in Jonathan’s eyes darkens.
This is one of those times where he’s frightening and I should stay away. But that would mean being stomped on, and I won’t allow that.
I will not be intimidated. I will not be intimidated.
“Get on your knees.” His voice pierces through the silence.
“Does that mean you agree?”
“On your knees, Aurora.”
I comply, bending my legs until my knees meet the plush carpet beneath me.
Jonathan moves towards me with purposeful strides, undoing his belt.
By the time he reaches me, my heart almost leaps out of my chest due to both fear and anticipation. No idea how he manages to trigger different emotions in me simultaneously.
“Remember when you said I can’t fuck your mouth? This is your punishment.”
“Fine,” I whisper.
“Open your mouth,” he orders.
“I want a deal.”
“When I said open your mouth, I didn’t mean to talk.”
I lift my chin. “Give me what I want and I’ll do the same.”
“One of these days, I’m going to fuck the defiance out of you, Aurora.”
Well, not today, I think, but I manage to stop myself from saying the words out loud. That will only provoke him and that’s the last thing I need right now.
“What do you want?” His veiny hands are still on his belt and it takes everything in me not to ogle them. I think I have a stupid obsession with his masculine hands and fingers — or how much pleasure they bring me.
I shake my head internally and speak in my businesslike tone. Being on my knees doesn’t mean I’m in a position of weakness. “Every time I want something you usually wouldn’t agree on, you can punish me, spank me, fuck my mouth, whatever. But you’ll give me what I want.”
“Define the ‘something I usually wouldn’t agree on’ part.”
Of course Jonathan wouldn’t comply just like that. “You have to take it the way it is. In return, I’ll take all your punishments without protest.”
“And how do I know you won’t regret this deal two months from now?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“And you expect me to take your word for it?”
“Just do it, Jonathan. I’m giving you the control here.”
“While taking some of it away.”
My lips part.
“What? You think I haven’t figured out your angle, wild one?” He smiles in that proud way he showed me at the dinner table yesterday. “Well played, though.”
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a yes until further notice.”
Phew.
I know I shouldn’t be triumphant yet, but it’s a step in the right direction.
“Now, open that mouth. Fucking it is long overdue.”
I swallow once before doing as I’m told. I got what I wanted. It doesn’t matter that I’m in this position. Jonathan is losing some of his control and I’ll thoroughly take advantage of it.
He pulls out his cock and grabs it with a strong hand. My thighs clench at the view. It doesn’t matter how much I see it, the size of that thing always sends bursts of both excitement and fear inside me.
Jonathan strokes it once, and my mouth waters at the unapologetic way he handles himself. The man is made for dirty things. After teasing me with the view for a few beats, he runs the crown over my lips. I taste the salt of his precum and heat blossoms between my thighs.
“You think you’re at my level, Aurora? I can ruin you if I choose to.”
But he doesn’t. I’m holding on to that part with both hands and I won’t let go.
“This is your punishment for asking for things you shouldn’t want.” He wraps a firm hand around my nape and thrusts into my mouth. He groans as his length reaches the back of my throat. I can’t take all of him in — he’s too big. My gag reflex kicks in, but he continues to ease into my mouth. I barely take a breath before he pounds back in again.
As per his promise, he punishes me.
Jonathan fucks my mouth with a ruthlessness that leaves me breathless. He wraps my hair around his fist, using it to keep my head in place, as he rams in and out of my mouth hard and fast.
The power in his rigid shoulders and hands turn me boneless. My underwear is soaking wet, and tingles cover my spine. I want to stop enjoying this, but I can’t find any solution to do so.
“Fuck. Your mouth was made for me, wild one. Only me. You’re not allowed to open these lips for anyone else, is that understood?”
Even though tears are forming in my eyes with the lack of air, I hold on to his words, to the lust in his metal eyes, to the way he’s losing himself in the moment.
I did that.
I’m the reason he’s like this and it’s just the beginning.
Jonathan might have brought me to my knees, he might be using my mouth, but his power isn’t the only one present in this room.
Mine is here, too, and soon, he’ll feel it.
Soon, it’ll overpower his.
“I’m going to come down that throat, and you’re going to swallow it all.”
I nod frantically, my fingers tingling with the need to touch myself and alleviate the ache between my legs or the tightening throb in my nipples.
I don’t.
Because that will make this about my pleasure, and it’s not. It’s his punishment and I’ll get paid for it.
Jonathan’s groans boom in the calm of the room and strike inside me as he empties deep down my throat. It’s too far down that I barely taste anything.
He pulls out. “Finish. Don’t waste a drop.”
My tongue darts out to lick the smooth skin of his cock. I’m breathing so heavily, my breasts rise and fall with the movement.
He watches me with an unreadable expression, and I can almost feel the influx of power radiating off us both.
After cleaning him all up, I do a show of licking my lips, as we get trapped in each other’s gazes. While he thinks he won the battle, the war is far from over.
Without saying a word, I rise to my feet and waltz to his bed. I slide underneath the cover and try to ignore how his woodsy scent entangled with spice surrounds me like a second skin.
It feels so fucking right, yet at the same time, so fucking wrong and taboo and forbidden.
Not that I care right now. I have a goal and I’ve reached it.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say with a confidence I don’t feel.
&nb
sp; Jonathan remains in place for a while, his cock turning semi-hard by the second.
Oh, God. He might be in his mid-forties, but he has the stamina of a man in his twenties.
He removes his shirt and yanks down his trousers and boxer briefs in one go.
Seeing him naked never gets old. He has a muscular but lean body that’s easy on the eyes. Scratch good. It’s a feast.
I stop myself from ogling him as he joins me.
His gaze is unreadable as he lies on his back. I expect him to ignore me and go to sleep, but he pulls me atop of him.
Holy…
I gasp as my breasts lie flush against his hard chest and my legs tuck between his parted ones. His erection nuzzles against my stomach, any squirming I do only makes him harder.
The position feels so close, so…intimate.
Something he’s never offered.
“I can sleep on the mattress,” I offer. Jonathan may be bigger in size, but I’m not that thin. He has, like, sixty-five kilos on top of him.
“You sleep where I want you to sleep.”
“But —”
“My bed. My rules.”
I purse my lips.
“Or you can leave.”
“That won’t be happening. You’ll just have to pretend I’m an unwanted sleeping buddy. Surely you’ve had one before.”
He closes his eyes and I think he’s drifted off to sleep, but then he says, “You’re the first person who’s shared my bed.”
31
Aurora
The past week has been…different.
Ever since I came up with that plan that indirectly pushed Jonathan’s buttons, he’s been shedding some of his façade.
Not all of it. He still punishes so thoroughly for every night I spend in his bed, but it’s a start.
Besides, is it really punishment if I get off on it? The jury is still out on that one.
All I know is that with every night I sleep atop of him, I get closer to the man everyone is afraid to talk to, let alone come within his vicinity.
I haven’t stopped thinking about the words he told me the other day. The fact that I’m the first person to share his bed.
Surely Alicia used to? But then again, they did have separate rooms. Just like he and I did in those first couple of months.
