Black Promise (Obsidian Book 3)

by Victoria Quinn

  My breathing became sporadic.

  Like a child tempted with candy, I struggled to resist.

  “There’s no sex.” Jackson left the door when he realized the cogs in my mind were turning. “There’s no touching. But you get to be who you’re supposed to be. I’m doing this because I’m your brother. Rome is great, she really is. But you need more than that. If you aren’t going to give her up, then at least this will make you happy—for the long term.”

  I wanted to say no and walk away. There wasn’t an obstacle in the doorway, so all I had to do was storm out. Even if Jackson was in the way, I could just knock him to the side. The only reason why I was still in that room was because I wanted to be.

  And I knew that.

  Jackson watched me carefully, knowing the devil deep inside me was rearing its horns and coming to life. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. You can just tell Rome you’re coming to Ruin to help me with a few things once in a while. It’s not totally a lie…in a way.” He came to my side then looked at Isabella. “You know she’s the perfect submissive. She wants to be punished. She wants you to rule her. You want it…she wants it. Just do what feels right, you know?” Like the devil, Jackson sat on my shoulder and whispered terrible things into my ear. He tried to manipulate me with his persuasiveness, understanding me better than almost anyone else. “It’s not cheating, Calloway.”

  But it wasn’t right either.

  My hands couldn’t stop shaking.

  I wasn’t aroused, but I was still on fire. I felt the heat spread throughout my entire body, the unfulfilled need sweeping over me in a wave. Rome was my whole world, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t need more.

  I did need more.

  Jackson waited for me to do something, to make a decision. When he grew tired of waiting, he went to the stand of whips and floggers and searched through the inventory until he grabbed a dull gray whip sitting on the far right. He grabbed it and examined the texture of the leather in his hand, feeling the material in his fingertips. He smacked the whip gently against his hand as he tested it.

  His eyes locked to mine before he walked back toward me, the whip clutched in his hand. He stopped in front of me then extended it, offering it to me.

  I eyed the whip without taking it, feeling my hands shake with adrenaline. Seeing that whip tested my resolve. I wanted to whip Isabella so hard, to make up for the months that I’d been doing nothing but vanilla. My breathing grew more erratic, and I slowly felt my mind slip away, the carnal monster inside me taking control of the man underneath.

  Jackson grabbed my hand and forced the whip into my fingertips.

  When I felt the leather, I knew I was a goner.

  I automatically squeezed it, making my knuckles turn white around it. My breath came out shaky, my chest aching when the air left my lungs. The sweat that formed on my face and my neck suddenly felt overwhelming. I wanted control, craved it with my entire being. I wanted to punish Isabella for all the things Rome wouldn’t allow me to do to her. I disintegrated into a new world, a void that was only black and full of nightmares. My compassion and humility slipped away, an arrogant bastard remaining behind.

  I tested the whip in my hand then circled Isabella, coming behind her and staring at the bare skin of her back. Fury suddenly overtook me, remembering all the rage I worked so hard to repress. Violence was my craving, and I didn’t want to stop until I got it. Rome was no longer on my mind as the beast came forward. “Up.” I spoke with more authority than I’d had in the last nine months. It felt right. It felt real.

  Isabella rose to a stand, her eyes still on the floor.

  Jackson leaned against the wall and smiled.

  I pulled my arm back then unleashed a powerful force, smacking her hard right along the back. I hit the skin and turned it blood-red, doing enough damage to the skin that it would last until morning.

  And I slipped away.

  Isabella cried out then moaned an instant later, feeling the pain and enjoying it at the same time.

  I finally felt like myself. I finally felt like Calloway Owens—the Dom.

  I truly felt alive.

  So I whipped her again.

  Also by Victoria Quinn

  The story concludes in

  Black Forever.

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  Learn more at www.VictoriaQuinnBooks.com