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His Tormented Heart

Page 12

by Katee Robert


  They kept one villa permanently empty in case they needed it, and that was where he headed. Unlike the others that were strung along the western curve, this one was tucked back from the coastline a bit, accessible by a hidden inlet that you had to know was there in order to find. He guided them into it and up to the dock that wasn’t visible from the ocean.

  It was only when he’d secured the boat that he spoke. “Do I have to carry you, or will you walk?” It came out rougher than he intended, but he was so fucking twisted up inside, he didn’t have full control of himself.

  He never seemed to have control when it came to Delilah.

  “I’ll walk,” she said softly. She scrambled off the boat as if she wasn’t sure whether he’d change his mind or not.

  It stung.

  Of course it stung.

  He couldn’t even reassure her that she was safe because she wasn’t safe. Not on the island. Not from him. Not at all. Ryu kept his mouth shut and grabbed her bag, ignoring her attempt to pick it up. “Go.”

  Delilah looked like she might argue for a moment, but she finally huffed out a breath and marched up the wooden stairway to the main house.

  This villa was smaller than the others, but it didn’t lack for an understated beachy elegance that even Ryu found appealing. Normally. Right now, all he could focus on was the woman marching in front of him. He pushed through the large glass doors and held it open for Delilah. “Don’t try to leave.”

  She ignored him and wandered deeper into the house. As tempted as he was to follow her, he had other things that needed his immediate attention. Ryu strode into the office situated in the back of the house and turned the computer on. He and his siblings rarely came out here, but he’d ensured it was stocked with a system that was identical to his in the hub.

  His phone rang as he keyed in a few necessary software updates. Even without looking at the screen, he knew who it was. “Hey.”

  “Where are you?” Amarante sounded perfectly pleasant, which was a warning sign all its own. The more polite his sister got, the more dangerous she was.

  “I had a few things to take care of, so I’m at our villa on the western side of the island.”

  “A few things to take care of,” she repeated. “When you forced a week’s waiting period, I didn’t realize it was so you could take your woman on a honeymoon.”

  No point in defending himself. He couldn’t without telling her the real reason he had Delilah out here, and that was out of the question. “You promised seven days. Where I am for the duration makes no difference.”

  Silence for a beat. Two. Finally, Amarante sighed. “I know you’re upset with me, but—”

  “Upset.” He paced across the room and back. “Upset is when you pull some shit that goes over everyone’s head, but it’s for the best.”

  “Then why is this different?”

  It was good they had a whole island between them. If they didn’t, he might actually kick her ass. “We have one rule, Te. One. We look out for each other and we keep all four of us safe. There’s no room in that for you sacrificing yourself. None.”

  “There’s no other way,” she said quietly. The utter conviction in her voice scared the shit out of him. Amarante was set on this path, and it would take a nuclear explosion to derail her.

  “If you would have clued us in on what you were planning, we would have found another way and saved you scaring a decade off everyone’s life. Since that isn’t an option, you will give us seven days.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And if you’re thinking about pulling some noble stunt where you sneak off to do it anyway, know that we’ll all come after you and then you’ll be responsible for six deaths instead of just one.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “So is your plan. Seven days, Te. Don’t push us on this.” Maybe he should have talked to the others before issuing this particular threat, but he already knew they were behind him on it. Maybe not their partners, but Kenzie and Luca would do whatever it took to rein Amarante in on this.

  They all owed her too much to let her die for them.

  They loved her too much to let her die for them.

  Movement through the window drew his attention. The office faced the back of the house, where the jungle had been cleared back just enough to ensure that no one could approach unseen. They’d prettied it up with decorations and a winding flower bed, though, and as he watched, Delilah wandered down the rock path next to it.

  Ryu waited to see what she’d do. There were no pathways through the trees back to the eastern side of the island, so she wouldn’t make it far if she tried to run, but Delilah seemed the kind of person to try it if she decided it was her only course of action.

  She studied the tree line before seeming to come to the only logical conclusion—that it was an impossible feat to get through—before turning back to the house.

  Ryu took a slow breath and headed to the side door to meet her. She stopped short when she caught sight of him, but set her shoulders in a way he was coming to recognize. “So what’s on the menu now? Torture?”

  She had his hands effectively tied. He wasn’t willing to actually hurt her, whether or not she’d accept that as truth. But he also couldn’t let her leave. Not until he knew the truth. “Who did you hack my phone for?”

  He hadn’t thought it possible, but her expression closed down even more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ryu stepped back and let her walk into the house, but he followed her as she headed into the kitchen and rummaged around until she found the alcohol cabinet. A few seconds later she wrestled the lid off a bottle of tequila.

  She took a long drink and finally looked at him. “So I’m, what, your captive?”

  “Something like that.” That’s exactly what she was. Damn it, he should have thought this through better. But he hadn’t been thinking. He’d only been reacting. It wasn’t usually a weakness of his, but between his sister and Delilah, he’d had one mindfuck after another. “This would go simpler if you’d tell me what I want to know.”

  “Somehow, I don’t find that remotely comforting.” She contemplated the bottle and took another, longer, drink. “Let’s play out this theoretical sequence of events, okay? Let’s say I’m guilty. I confess, which makes me a traitor, and the Horsemen aren’t known for dealing kindly with traitors.” Another drink. He could almost see the alcohol hazing her vision now. “And if I’m innocent, I’ll keep telling you that I’m innocent and you’ll keep thinking I’m lying, and eventually you’ll get tired of this song and dance and treat me just like the Horsemen treat a traitor.”

  “Delilah.”

  “No. Don’t say my name like that. You don’t get to basically kidnap me and then act like I’m being crazy when I respond in a totally understandably emotional way.”

  God, she was killing him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Delilah turned those dark eyes on him and, suddenly, she didn’t look the least bit drunk. “Don’t do that. Don’t make promises you can’t follow through on.”

  He opened his mouth to reassure her, but closed it, all those words unsaid. Because she was right. He couldn’t promise her shit right now. He had no plans on torturing her, but he couldn’t promise her safety.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She hefted the tequila bottle. “I’m going to go to bed. When you figure out what you’re doing with me, be sure to let me know.” She wobbled a little as she strode out of the room.

  She didn’t look back.

  Delilah had to get out of here. Instead of the tequila relaxing her enough to sleep, it buzzed through her veins, demanding action. Stupid action.

  She knew better than to get drunk, especially when everything hung on her thinking clearly enough to convince Ryu she was innocent. But she still hadn’t processed the level of betrayal on both sides.

  She stole his phone, yes. She’d even allowed someone to hack it, at least in theory.

  Ryu kidnapped her.

&nb
sp; Sure, he hadn’t done anything particularly menacing since they’d arrived at this villa, but the fact remained—she wasn’t free to leave. She couldn’t get access to her phone, either, which meant she wouldn’t be there when another call came through.

  Esther was in danger.

  There had to be a way out of this, and giving up wasn’t an option. The last seven days had felt like an impossible timeline, but they were nothing on the next seven days.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her face. Even if she wanted to knock Ryu over the head and make a run for it, she wouldn’t get far. Either the jungle would slow her down until he caught up, or she’d actually make it back to Pleasure, and then Death and the other Horsemen would stop her.

  Delilah might have her doubts about what the hell was going on in Ryu’s head, but even drunk as a skunk, she knew her options were significantly better with him than with the others.

  So what to do?

  That question drove her to wander the house, restless and too warm despite the air conditioning working overtime. She opened the fridge and let the extra cold air drift over her skin. It gave her two seconds of clarity, but it was enough to realize she had no business being outside her room until she had her defenses put back together again.

  Stupid tequila.

  She turned around, intent on heading back the way she’d come.

  And screamed.

  Ryu stood a few feet away, a strange expression on his face. The fact that there was any expression at all was a relief. He’d closed himself off to her. Not that she could blame him. She’d been lying in half a dozen ways since the start of this.

  “Can’t sleep?” His voice rumbled across the distance between them, and her body responded like a tuning fork. Her skin went tight and her nipples perked right up. Stupid nipples.

  Delilah actually took a step toward him before she caught herself. “Something about being held in a house against my will doesn’t pave the way for good sleep. Also tequila.”

  “Ah.” Ryu leaned against the counter. Neither of them had bothered to turn on lights, but with all the windows and the half moon shining in, she could see him well enough to want him. But then, wanting Ryu had never really been the problem.

  She should keep her mouth shut and go straight back to her room, but the night and alcohol loosened her tongue. “I wasn’t faking it when we were together.”

  “I know.” A wealth of knowledge in those two words. A reminder that he’d had his hands and mouth all over her, had seen her face as she came around his cock.

  She shivered. What was she saying? Delilah licked her lips and drifted a step closer. “I should hate you for what you’ve done.”

  “Undoubtedly.” Had he leaned forward? She couldn’t tell.

  The moonlight gleamed against his bare chest, tempting her to do the one thing she should absolutely not do. Touch him. Delilah’s last step brought them nearly chest to chest. “Ryu, what are we doing?”

  “Delilah.” The way he said her name felt like he’d reached across the minuscule distance and run his hands all over her body. “Tell me the truth. No matter what it is, I can protect you.”

  She pressed her forehead to his chest and closed her eyes. With the alcohol fuzzing her senses, it was all too easy to believe him. She didn’t want to carry this burden anymore. She desperately wanted to hand it off to more capable shoulders. Ryu might even be telling the truth. If she confessed, he would protect her.

  He wouldn’t protect Esther. He had absolutely no reason to. Even if he was inclined to try, whoever was on the other end of those phone calls had direct access to Delilah’s baby sister. They’d hurt her before he could get there to save her. She wished with everything she had that there was another way. No matter how hard she concentrated, no alternative path opened itself to her. She was on her own.

  He hesitated, but finally cupped the back of her head with his hand, anchoring her to him. How could she feel comforted when he was part of the reason she was in this messed up situation to begin with?

  She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She simply needed more of it.

  Before Delilah could talk herself out of it, she lifted her head and went up on her toes to kiss him. Ryu’s shock lasted half a breath before he lifted her and turned, setting her on the counter and stepping between her thighs. He cupped her face with his big hands and spoke against her mouth. “This won’t fix anything.”

  “I don’t care. I want you.” Her life spun wildly out of control around her, and this man stood at the center, both the cause and the solution. If she was stronger, she wouldn’t be pulling off her clothes, making little desperate noises as he skimmed his hands over her newly exposed skin. But Delilah wasn’t stronger. She was scared and exhausted and the person partially responsible for that was also the only one she wanted comforting her. “Please, Ryu.”

  “As if I could deny you.” He kissed her again, a slow, drugging kiss that left her dizzy and desperate. She reached for the band of his lounge pants, but he was already moving down to kneel between her thighs. Ryu pulled her to the edge of the counter and gave her pussy a thorough kiss.

  Last time he’d gone down on her, he’d been in the mood to tease. He wasn’t now. He fucked her with his tongue as if he couldn’t get deep enough, as if he needed this just as much as she did.

  Delilah clung to him, letting him hold her up as pleasure crashed through her. The sight of this man on his knees for her, the feel of his mouth on her, the thought telling her that this was a terrible idea … It all washed through her, driving her need higher. “My clit. Tongue my clit.”

  His rough chuckle vibrated through her and then he did as she commanded, moving up to roll his tongue against her clit. She tried to hold out, to make it last, but Ryu wasn’t messing around. He sucked hard on her clit and it was too much. She cried out as she came, digging her fingers into the counter and grinding against his mouth.

  He barely gave her time to recover before he was on his feet. “Do you want my cock, Delilah?”

  Was that a trick question? She nodded shakily. “Yes.”

  He guided her to stand and turned her around to brace her hands on the counter. The rustle of a drawer and a crinkle of foil and then he braced a hand on her hip and guided his cock into her. She closed her eyes. It felt too good. She wanted to soak up every second of this experience because all too soon they would go back to warily circling each other.

  Ryu sank the last few inches into her, sheathing himself to the hilt. He lifted her hair off her neck and placed a kiss there. “You’re safe with me.”

  No, she wasn’t. She really, really wasn’t. Not on any level.

  He leaned over, his chest to her back, and ran his hands down her arms to lace his fingers with hers. “You are.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond—to not respond—because he started fucking her.

  Long, steady strokes, letting her feel every inch of him. And, god, she loved it. She loved everything he did to her, everything they did together. A sound burst from her lips, half sob, half moan.

  He took their laced right hands and guided them down her stomach to her pussy. “I want to feel you come around my cock. You clench me so tightly when you do. Like you never want to let me go.”

  I don’t. Through some miracle, she kept those words internal.

  They touched her clit together, the shared experience as hot as the little circles Ryu drew with their fingers. He thrust deep, holding her pinned between his cock and his hand. “Fuck, Delilah. Look at us.”

  She followed his gaze to the glass doors leading out of the kitchen. In the low light, they were barely more than shadows, but as she watched, Ryu started fucking her harder, his larger form moving over hers in the image. “Turn on the light,” she whispered.

  He barely hesitated. Ryu reached past her to the switch on the wall and flipped it. Lights lining the bottom of the cabinets flared to life. It gave new detail to the reflection, and she moaned again. “We look good together.


  “We look fucking perfect together.” He released her hand. “Keep touching yourself.”

  He didn’t have to tell her to keep watching them. She couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to. Ryu straightened and gripped her hips. He gave her one last slow stroke and then he picked up his pace. He fucked her like he wanted to imprint himself on her very soul. She could have told him they were too far gone for that, but Delilah was too busy stroking her clit, each of his thrusts pushing her closer and closer to another orgasm.

  She met his gaze in the reflection and the sheer longing she found there pushed her over the edge as thoroughly as what he did to her body. She closed her eyes as she came, letting pleasure wash away her fear for a little while.

  Ryu ran gentle hands over her body, easing her back to reality. He touched her like she was something to be cherished. Maybe even to be loved. Could he really lie that well? Or were these moments of softness the real man beneath the ice-cold exterior?

  It was only when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder that she realized he hadn’t finished. Delilah raised her head. “Ryu?”

  “We’ll talk in the morning.” He kissed her neck. “Let me take you to bed.”

  Permission, then. A few hours of pleasure before reality came crashing back. Delilah hesitated, and finally nodded. “Okay.”

  He wasted no time picking her up and carrying her to his bedroom. They came together again and again through the night, as if he didn’t want to leave this little pocket of peace any more than she did. As if he knew that dawn would bring back strife and put them back on the opposing sides.

  It couldn’t last.

  She knew that, even as they collapsed beneath the first rays of sunlight edging through the window. Ryu pulled her against him, holding her tightly as if he could hold off what came next. He couldn’t. He must have known as much, because his low words sent a chill through her. “You’ve put me in a hell of a position.”

  I don’t want to do this. Can’t we go back to pretending we’re okay and the danger doesn’t exist? Delilah cleared her throat and closed her eyes. No. There was no going back. They had to deal with this, one way or another. “Pretty sure that’s my line. I’m the one who’s playing captive. Except I’m not playing and this isn’t a game.”

 

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