Page 68 of Enemy of the Heart

I retrieve a length of chain and two short ropes from the box, then prowl over to the beautiful creature waiting patiently for me, and squat in front of her. Grasping one of her delicate ankles, I pull it out to the side as I secure it to one of the legs of the stool with one of the ropes, the rough fibers grating against her skin. I seize the other ankle and repeat the process, spreading her legs wide.

I was shocked when Louhi agreed relatively easily to let Mercer handle things on his own, but I want to live a long, full life by her side, and embarking on a suicide mission would snuff out that dream.

While she’s shoved her concern for her brother down deep, it’s still there in the set of her shoulders and the glimmer of anxiety that swirls in her gaze. This’ll be good for both of us.

“Hold out your wrists,” I order, the chain hanging loosely from my fingertips.

She obeys, offering them as an overt sign of limitless trust. Lifting her hands to my mouth, I maintain eye contact with her as I brush my lips over the delicate skin covering the inside of her wrists. Her gaze is soft and warm. How is it possible to come to love someone more every day?

Begrudgingly, I abandon her attention and thread the chain through the eyebolt in the ceiling until it dangles above her head. Raising her arms, I secure them so that the cold metal bites into her warm flesh.

My dog tags are perched between her perfect tits, and I grasp the rectangular end that’s stamped. She tucks her chin, studying the way I finger the necklace, the backs of my knuckles grazing the side of her breast. They look better on her than they ever did on me.

I lean down and press a kiss on her forehead as though I can imprint my love on her skin so that the knowledge will sink into her mind. Lou is warm, and she smells so much like a crisp, sunny winter’s day, just after a snowstorm. It makes me want to run outside to test my theory, despite the fact that it’s now pitch-black outside.

My eyelids shutter for a moment, and it requires zero effort to summon the darkness that lives within me, the sadistic wolf baring its teeth as it hovers over a kill. When I finally pull back and fix my attention on her, the illicit violence thrums through my body, imploring me to cut Lou open and make her weep for me.

Taking her in, I notice that her nipples are rock hard. My voice is rough and husky, shrouded in tenebrous obscurity. “Is your pussy about to flood this stool?”

“Yes.” An arched smile creeps over her features. I stroke a hand gently over her cheek before dropping it. “I want this, Sean.”

I smirk, my body thrumming with excitement as I circle the stool. At her back, I dip my head so that I’m speaking directly into her ear. “Be careful what you wish for, baby.”

I ignore the harder-than-stone organ throbbing beneath my pants that’s a result of my mind mapping out the specifics of everything I plan to do to Lou. I designed this entire situation, from the chains to the erotically heinous things I’m about to do to her, to remind us both of our time at Ex-I. Even the gray walls of the room look a bit like the playpen.

Kneeling between her splayed legs, I can’t pass up the opportunity to slide my fingers over her slick pussy, and she shifts her hips, leaning back slightly to increase my access, which likely only makes her shoulders squawk. The corner of my mouth twitches, knowing what she wants from me right now: attention. She’s about to get plenty of that.

I coast my fingers through her slickness before sinking both fingers inside. She tosses her head back, moaning. The chains clank with the movement.

Rising to my full height, I abruptly withdraw my hand. She pouts at the loss, but that’s short-lived when I tug up the bottom of the mask. My tongue darts out, and I slide my fingers over the pad of my hot tongue before closing my mouth around them, sucking. She tastes like sugary venom, and I lap up every last drop.

I open my mouth, making a lewd show of swirling my tongue around the tips of my fingers before removing them. “I thought we could play a game.”

“A—A game,” she repeats, words failing her as I weave my hand into her raven hair and tug on it simply for fucking fun.

I right the mask on my face, then orbit the stool slowly, the silky strands still in my grasp and come to stand on her other side. With my free hand, I rattle the chain above her head, the metal restraints making her likely stiff shoulders screech.

“You seemed to enjoy our last game in the playpen so much that I thought we’d play another round.”

That gets her attention, and she snaps, “The last game we played ended with me kneeling on bloody rice for fuck knows how long while you peppered me with questions that I couldn’t answer because your dick was down my throat.”

I chuckle, the sound low and throaty, as I jangle the chains once more. “Don’t act as though you didn’t like that. And if I recall correctly, you came so hard that you sent yourself to the infirmary.”

She doesn’t reply. I go on, explaining, “The rules of this game are simple: for every question you choose to answer honestly, you’ll be rewarded. For every question you choose not to answer, you’ll be punished. I’ll even keep your mouth unoccupied in the spirit of fairness. Will you play?”

Moving to stand before her once more, still fisting her hair in a vise, I yank her head back so that I can see her face. She’s mostly stopped masking her emotions from view with me, and right now I can clearly see her curiosity eclipsing her stubbornness.

Glaring at me skeptically, she nods. I tighten my grip and jostle her head. “Use your words tonight, Lou.”

“I’ll play.”

Releasing her short hair, I let it fall around her face before tucking it behind her ears gently. “Always so eager to entertain your sadist’s compulsions, aren’t you, baby?”

When she doesn’t answer my rhetorical question, I slide my hands down to her breasts and tweak both of her rigid, pointed nipples sharply. “I asked you a question. Angling for a punishment already?”

The dark, arcane part of me is begging her to give me a reason to punish her this early, but I force myself to exercise some motherfucking patience.

Her gaze flicks to mine, defiance and capitulation warring within those warm brown irises of hers, but I wait her out, wanting to see which reaction will triumph.