Lies & Lullabies

by Courtney Lane

  In the quiet space, my sudden inhale was a sharp and cutting noise. My mouth fell open, wanting to expel a moan. I swallowed with difficulty and sealed my mouth.

  He continued to brush his lips against mine, deeming it impossible to breathe. I opened my mouth and his tongue tickled the roof. I closed my legs tightly together as my pussy tingled, clamoring for a reprieve by a piece of Catch.

  He pulled his mouth from mine. The softness of his lips tickled my nose.

  I was cracking, and pissed off with the way I was rapidly losing control of my rebellion. “Please, let me go. I don’t have anything you want, and I can’t do anything for you.”

  He parted from me slightly. His blue eyes darkened from the horizon at dawn to a cold midnight sky with every passing silent second. “You’re useful to me and have many things I find value in. There are many more things you can and will do for me. The answer is, no. I won’t let you go.” His words were flooded in a daunting raspiness. “The more you fuck with me by asking to leave me, the more you offer up pieces of yourself to destroy.” A hand slid down my torso, stopping at the crux of my thighs. “Play. No matter what I say to you, never stop playing.”

  With a delay, I extended my hands. As my eyes leveled down to the piano, I caught sight of him clutching the piano cover with one hand, pulling it to hover over the keys while another massaged the crease in my thigh.

  “Maybe I’m being unreasonable,” he said with a heavy exhale. “We can play a game. Answer my questions and I’ll give you something you want—something feasible for me to give you. Tell me the names of the people who raised you.”

  “What does it matter when you already know?” The angry lilt of my voice fell in sync with the brutal way I assaulted the keys, effortlessly flowing into a more chaotic piece filled with lower notes.

  “Stop playing.” His command was a prelude to darker actions and a warning.

  “You told me not to stop,” I protested, ignoring him.

  “And now I’m telling you to stop.”

  Was he fucking with me? Was this a test? Whatever maze he decided to plop me down in, I wasn’t sure of the direction to the exit. I kept playing.

  Fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling my hand with enough strength to make me struggle, but not enough to prevent me from touching the keys.

  The air rushed at my fingers, and I thought the cover was going to come crashing down on my hands. He wrapped his forearm around me, removing my hands, narrowly missing the slam of the cover as it nicked my knuckles.

  My hands shook when he released his hold on me.

  “You’re learning quicker than I thought you would.” Breathy words teased my ear.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to expel a thousand different insults at him. Nothing would happen the way I desired it.

  He kicked the bench out from beneath me. I misgauged where it landed, tripped, and fell on my ass. I quickly swung the bench around and set it in front of me as though it were a gate, keeping me apart from Catch.

  He kicked the bench away from me and bent down on his knees. He crawled up the floor and pulled my legs down until his body laid flat against mine on the floor.

  He spread my legs with one hand and settled himself between them. His touch was tender as the back of his hand brushed against my cheek and dried a tear, expressing the frustration over my torment under Catch’s grip.

  “What I know,” I growled and jerked my ass backward, using my elbows as leverage to slip from underneath him, “is that if you kill me or Deana, since you must know where she is, you’ll lose whatever leverage you have against whoever you’re hoping to fuck over by keeping me here. I don’t know what the fuck you exactly want from me. I don’t care. Threaten me all you want. When I find out your secrets and a way away from you, our next fight will be your last. I already know one.”

  He stifled a chortle. “Oh? And what is it you think you know?”

  “You’re the boss of the Di Stefano family.”

  He clucked his tongue and gave me a skewed grin. “I’m only twenty-eight. I’d be the youngest boss in the syndicate’s history from coast to coast. A man like that doesn’t stay under the radar.”

  “But you did because no one knows who you really are, and because you don’t act like one. You don’t delegate. You don’t use your underlings to do your work. You do it yourself, are good at covering your tracks, and obviously know some very powerful people. It makes you underestimated.”

  “I fucking love it when you show me how far that intelligence reaches and you formulate your own conclusions. Is that why you’re suddenly scared of me? You know I’m more powerful than your father. You know it’s best if you listen to me. What you still don’t get is why you’re here.” He grabbed my legs and pulled me down. “You’re traveling in the wrong direction, Simone,” he whispered, his menthol scented breath tickling my face.

  With a jerk, he widened my legs. His fingertips flirted with my damp slit. His shoulders kept my legs open, and he slid down, blowing invisible rings on my pussy. His fingers slid to my opening and spread my lips apart. As he manipulated my pussy, quiet little sloshing sounds reminded me of how much Catch affected me.

  “You smell so sweet,” he hummed. “I can’t wait to taste that sweetness flooding your tight little cunt.”

  I bit into my bottom lip hard, hoping I wouldn’t collapse and allow him to have what he wanted. “I’m not going to give you permission.”

  “You’re hardly giving me resistance as it is. I showed you, you’re far from formidable competition for me, and you’re internalizing it—feeling it.” He paused for a beat to smile up at me. “Have you ever wondered why I don’t allow you to wear anything underneath the clothes I provided you with?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Oh, you do, sweetheart. At this very moment, you understand the reason why.”

  “You know what I wonder?” I pushed to project my voice through the hoarseness. “What would happen if I had a video of your ex-wife playing in the background when we fought?”

  He sat back on his knees pulling me to straddle his lap. My bare pussy brushed against his cock. Only the thin layer of cotton pants stood between us. “You think that’s the secret you can use against me?” Moving his head from left to right, he released his amusement in a low and soft tone. “You think when we sparred, I gave you everything I had? I exerted control over my actions because I didn’t want to seriously hurt you, or kill you. There’s no need to show you the full capacity of my physical fight. I know how to take an opponent down without my fists. Well, I have been doing it with you, haven’t I? I’ve been taking you down from the inside-out.”

  A slow smile contorted his face and lied to me about his nature. “My ex-wife evokes nothing from me. Even if she did, I don’t act on emotion, like you do.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered, using my arms as a buffer between us. “Why are you punishing me?”

  “This isn’t punishment, sweetheart.” Standing with my body wrapped around him, he began to move throughout the house. “I do this to you because you need it.” His low voice barely carried through the space as he transported me upstairs. “You want me to free you.”

  -14-

  SPIN SPIN SUGAR

  For the past few days, and only during the very short daylight hours, I was allowed time away from being Catch’s housekeeper in a fucked-up way. I heard soft hums from downstairs, indicating he was working alone at times. He never demanded I join him. At night when he was done, he'd cuddle in bed with me.

  I hated to think it, or admit it; I had begun to look forward to him holding me at night.

  I slowly peered one eye open and then another, finding myself in Catch’s bed alone. I was standing outside myself, watching the breaking unfold and unable to get back in my body and stop it. No matter how hard I tried to jam the facts into my head—a psychopathic killer would eventually turn on me—I wanted to rationalize: he’d never really hurt me, and all the things he h
ad done were to help me.

  My stupid heart had injected itself into the equation, comforting me with its ignorance.

  The bathroom door was ajar and the shower was running.

  Thinking it was started for me, as Catch tended to do if we arose at the same time, I slid out of bed.

  Inside the shower, behind the clear glass shower door slightly covered in fog, Catch stood under the shower stream, soaked from head to toe. Rivulets of water dripped down his tan skin, drenching him, darkening the beautiful tattoo. It was the first time I saw how far it reached, and it went…everywhere. The roots wound around and reached his cock, his legs, and his ass. His head bowed forward and his hair fell like an off-black sheet over his forehead, coming to a point. My gaze lingered at the way his rosy lips puckered and the angles of the bones in his face.

  A stream of desire rolled through my body and lingered between my thighs, and I was as wet as his body. He was a cock with a pretty package. My need for him manifested into explanations to keep my fight down where it remained. The reason he kept me was personal, and I couldn’t deny my interest in discovering exactly what it was that tied us together and left him, if I believed him, unable to allow me to leave.

  “Seemed you’ve lost your way and wandered into my private time and didn’t know when to leave.” His deep voice rumbled throughout the space.

  Catch retracted the shower door and fastened a towel around his waist to stand in front of me. “You’re so close”—he pinched his fingers together, leaving a breath of space between his thumb and index finger—“to where I want you to be.”

  His moisture-slicked body, adorned in the heavy black ink of the barren forest kept my attention hostage. The impressive imprint of his cock protruded underneath the terry cloth towel. If I wasn’t drooling before, I was now.

  He drew his gaze down my body and made me cognizant of the fact I was only wearing a white, too-tight T-shirt that barely covered my panty-less crotch.

  When he eyed the area between my legs, he grinned. “Almost.” Catch dropped his towel and stepped forward. His long and thick cock was covered in a few thin inked branches.

  Grasping my hand, he ran it down the drops of moisture coating his body, accentuating the cuts in his form. “How badly do you want to fuck me, Simone?” We stood toe to toe, the back of his other hand grazed against the back of mine as it trembled at my side. His head inclined, and his lips flirted with kissing me.

  My pride, and all but erased anger, no longer existed in the room. I wasn’t clear when it had left. In the moment it didn’t matter. “I don’t.” I could scarcely believe myself as the word was professed in such a delicate tone. “Is the show over?”

  “Your mouth lies to me constantly, sweetheart.” He grabbed my shoulders, guiding me to the bedroom, pressing his body against my back to direct me.

  He spun me and pushed me down to sit on the edge of the bed. “The show hasn’t started yet.” The corner of his mouth twisted into an expression staked in the center of deviance and sex. His hand wrapped around his cock, barely. He stroked up and down, pumping the thickness with a delayed speed. “Keep your legs spread and your eyes on me, or I’ll tie you down.” He continued to pump his cock, throbbing and hardening, with one hand.

  Out of habit and the burning desire eliciting between my thighs, I pulled my knees together. The ache turned into a scorching heat. Enraptured, I was torn to shreds by the look in his eyes, the sight of his cock, his body, and his face. I didn’t want him—I needed him.

  I slowly spread my legs and tucked my hands behind my back, showing him the glistening lips of my pussy. Hypnotized by him, a raspy “fuck me,” slipped from my lips.

  His teeth attacked his bottom lip as he bowed forward. Pumping the thick head of his erection a few more times. White streams of cum squirted from his erection and decorated my leg with an odd pattern. He leaned forward and grabbed my hand, forcing my fingers through the viscous liquid and brought it to my mouth. Sweet tang coated my tongue and scratched at my throat as I swallowed it down.

  He ducked down to bring his face to mine. “How do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you so hard you forget how to function?” Teasing me, he clenched my bottom lip between his teeth and purred questions meant to seduce. A hand was shoved in my hair, upturning my face. The damp tip of his erection rubbed against the thin material of my shirt and throbbed against my torso. “Can you feel that? I’m still so hard for you, Simone. I need inside that sweet wet spot between your thighs.” He exhaled against my lips. “And I need it now.”

  My lips parted and I reached out to stroke him.

  He immediately stepped back. The mask had returned and stolen everything he’d given me only seconds earlier. “Sleep in another room tonight.”

  It took a minute before what happened registered in my mind.

  “Fuck your games, Catch.” I stormed up, torn between hurting him or screaming at him. “Where am I supposed to go?”

  He obviously took a major portion of pleasure from watching me react. “There are eight bedrooms. Find one.”

  I muttered underneath my breath and swirled around to crawl into bed. The heat was uncomfortable and unbearable. I flipped around in bed with such violence the springs protested.

  I threw off the covers, my bare feet slapping across the floor. I moved on a mission toward the bathroom to rub myself in the shower. I cared very little if Catch got a show. I wanted him to know he didn’t get to rule every part of me; conversely, it was a lie.

  I only made it to the sink. I cleaned off my leg, splashing water onto my thigh, rinsing and repeating to wash his cum away. With my thighs dripping in water, I jammed my hand between my legs and braced myself against the bowl with the other.

  Catch cleared his throat, announcing his presence. His cotton lounge pants were back on his body and obscenely revealed the imprint of dick. He glanced from my hand to my face and slid an odd looking black glove on his hand. “Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, sweetheart, try to make that pussy come to the thought of me.”

  “I won’t be able to come now.” I began to move my hand again. “Maybe I can if I imagine someone else is here…maybe I’ll think of that hot drunken one-night stand I had once.” I closed my eyes and sank my teeth into my lip. My eyelids became heavy, showing him how close I was to the verge. “Oh,” I moaned through quivering lips.

  “I’m not sorry to disappoint you, Simone. That’s not the way you’re going to come tonight.” My hair was in his hands, tugging me out of the bathroom and into the bed. He bent me over the bed to face the window serving as a slightly reflective mirror on the other end of the room.

  He pushed me down across the soft surface and lifted my head by my hair, making sure I could see him in the glass. He yanked my shirt up to my waist, and touched my bare ass with his gloved hand. A million tiny little pricks licked my skin. It was better than incredible and exacerbated my need to climax.

  He drew back his hand and held it within my view of his reflection. His hand came down hard, attacking my sensitive skin with a hard thump. The burn made me whimper as it increased the panicked screams of my pain sensors.

  He ran the glove down my ass again, lightly, in a way that should’ve tickled. The pricks no longer felt good. Tiny little burn points indicated he might’ve made me bleed.

  He did it again, eliciting only a muffled, “Oomph,” from me.

  Harder, faster, violently, he punished my ass with the glove. I clutched the silky sheets, my nails digging into the material. My strength was siphoned from my posture and the sheets were clenched between my teeth. With every hit, a ball of fire rose in my chest, threatening to dissolve me.

  At a count of ten, he stopped and turned me around to lie flat on my back.

  I sucked my teeth and angled my hips to keep my ass from hitting the sheets.

  I panted, my mouth agape expelling heated breaths. The adrenaline rush surprised me with the way it made my skin tingle. My heart beat rapidly, the rushing sound of my b
lood pumping filled my ears with white noise. The feeling I longed for when I stepped into the arena consumed me. It used to be the only thing that made me feel alive when Michael made me feel like I was dead inside and outside.

  I tried to catch my breath; I couldn’t.

  A smile spread across his face indicating he knew all of my secrets. “Why do you fight?”

  My hard swallow resounded in a loud clicking noise. I couldn’t comprehend his questions before, but now I did. The man was showing me he knew me more than I was willing to show. “I-I…Darren’s mother was stabbed to death on her way to the arena. I picked up her phone and took her place. I wanted to make sure the girl—Temple’s girl—paid for it. I-I was never given a chance to do it. She was the woman…in the hotel with him the night we…”

  “Why did you continue?”

  “For Darren.”

  “And?”

  “The ring was the only place I didn’t feel like I was dead inside.”

  “Was it the hurt you inflicted, or the hurt inflicted onto you?”

  “Both,” I said, my voice barely audible.

  He removed the glove, dropping it to the floor. He tugged my legs down and hovered over me, slanting down until we met together in the middle. He kissed me gently, attentively. I threw my arms around him in reaction. His soft lips raked down my throat.

  My fingers brushed through the soft strands of glistening and damp dark hair as he held me. His forearm dug into my lower back, drawing me closer to him. The rise and fall of his chest pressed against my breasts. His steady and lukewarm breaths swirled around my ear.

  “Why bother asking me questions you already know the answer to?” I choked on my words.

  “Ask the right question.”