“Get the fuck off of me,” my dark timbre rattles slower. She scoots back, and I release my tight hold on her wrist. Her feet get tangled in the silk sheets as she shies away.
“You stayed,” she says, her voice monotone. She doesn’t know how to take me.
Fuck I don’t even know how to take myself either.
She shimmies off the bed and moves slowly, limping. She’s sore. A sense of pride fills me.
“Fell asleep. Doesn’t mean shit,” I grit, my voice detached. Best not to read into it,’cause itdoesn’tmean shit.
She sucks her bottom lip and steps into a gray pair of sweatpants. She is careful with the marks I left on her body. Wonder how she’s gonna hide it from Pearson. God, I hope that asshole sees it. Her tangled dark hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, and I openly eye fuck her.
She’s silent for a moment. I just stay splayed on her queen bed like I own it. I tuck my hands behind my head, and my eyes drag lazily over her form. She’s hypnotic and hypnotizing in some fucked-up way. Might be the way I’ve corrupted her. My sin and her godliness fits in some way I don't understand. My mind is silent, and it’s a strange sensation. No voices. No wild thoughts. Just raw desire and sanity. I’veneverhad sanity.
“Why are you here, Zain?”
Her question takes me off guard.
To ruin you. To steal your innocence. Revenge. Vengeance. All of those things. Can’t tell her that though. “Had to remind you who you belong to,” I say simply with a hollow tone. The lie leaves a metallic taste in my mouth.She tilts her head. Her hands find her hips. Curiosity glints in her eyes, reflecting in the firelight. “No. You feel something, don’t you?” she says, like she has any fuckin’ clue about what goes on my head. I sit up and cross the room in record speed. I am on her in an instant. My words are venomous and my expression equally measured. “You don’t know shit. You’re a fun fuck. A bitch I want complete submission from. Nothin’ more.”
I watch her throat bob. Her eyes flash with fear. Fuck, there it is. My cock jumps.
She ignores the insults, letting it roll off her. “I see the way you watch me. I see the scars. You’re angry. Why?” Her eyes narrow, as if she’s got me all figured out.
I’m seething. No—fuckin’ furious. Instead of blowing my top, I laugh. A maniacal, deranged mirthless laugh.
“Think you got me all figured out, huh?” I scoff, gripping her chin. I see the dancing flame of the fire in her eyes.
Her words are small and meek. “If you let me in, I can—”
My patience boils over. I go red faced and scream at her, “Cut the shit, Vesper! You women are addicted to broken, fucked-up motherfuckers. Thinkin’ you can fix us. Stupid as fuck. You need to shut your pretty mouth and only open it if my cock is in your mouth. You’re nothin’ but a hole to fuck. A useless used slut—”
Slap.
A copper tang fills my mouth. My tongue runs along my teeth, tasting blood. I chuckle darkly. She looks murderous.
I turn slowly, calculated. “I’ll let that slide this once. There won’t be a second time,” I warn.My phone buzzes in my pocket. I let out a frustrated growl and yank it from my jeans. I silence it once I see my father’s name flickering across the screen. I turn my attention back to her. Her shirt hangs over her shoulders, and I’m plagued with dirty thoughts of her. I curse internally before pushing past her.
She spins. “Where are you going?” she asks softly, as if she didn’t just slap me. She’s hooked.
“In the shadows where I dwell.” And then I climb back over her balcony into the pouring rain. If only it could wash away myinsanity.
He’s conditioned me to enjoy cruel, unbridled masochistic pleasure. He’s cynical and wild, but part of me wonders if maybe I can show him how to feel something other than disdain and hatred for the world around him. Is he a lost cause? His harsh words sting, but I no longer believe he is incapable of feeling indifference for me. The moment he leaves, I feel empty, and I’m desperate to seek him out. I must be insane. It’s the only logical explanation. I no longer feel like the shy, inexperienced innocent girl. I feel in control and powerful. He’s shown me things I now crave.
My body is sore from his rough fucking. I should be livid. I should be acrimonious. Instead, he’s wearing me down, weakening my resolve. If Jax had taken me by force, I would be broken. A crumpled mess. Not with Zain. My father would disown me if he knew I gave someone like Zain my first time. At some point, he has to let me be free to make my own decisions. Though, I don’t see that happening anytime in the near future.
I make sure to cover the bruises, cuts, and tattoo Zain stamped on me. The corner of my eye catches something shiny. His discarded switchblade lays on the hardwood floor. He must have forgotten it in the heat of the moment. I bend down and pick it up; it’s heavy in my palm. I inspect it, remembering all the things he’s done to me with it.
Then the unsettling thought rolls in of all the things Idon’tknow about. Maybe he’s killed someone. Is this the same blade he used to carve into Jax? Before I come down for breakfast, I slide it into my sweater pocket with the intent to return it.
My father is sitting at the dining table in his wingback chair reading his newspaper in silence.Platters of crisp bacon and eggs sit beside decorative bowls of vibrant sliced fruits. He doesn’t look up when I enter. Slowly, careful of my sore body, I sink into the velvet chair. Suzanne shuffles over to pour orange juice into my glass. The only sound is the wrinkling of the newspaper and the faint crackling of the adjoining fireplace nestled into the farthest reaches of the room.
“I think I’m going to head back to campus early. I don’t want Clara to be alone,” I say, breaking the silence. “She has no one.” I take a sip of the orange juice.
I don’t think he will be too upset. He has enough work to keep him busy.
He doesn’t look up as his icy tone reverberates through the hall. “If you wish. I assure you though, Miss Vane is far from…lonely.” The last word rolls off his tongue slowly, as if he knows something I don’t. I raise a brow.
Suzanne piles my plate full of delicious food. I take a small bite of my bacon, inspecting it. It crunches against my teeth, and a burst of flavor fills my mouth. “I will stay longer for our next break, Father. Will you be attending my Symphony? I will be singing and playing the pianoforte.”
