by A. J. Snyder
I'm supposed to be working today, but I can't concentrate on anything but her.
Adeline is like the perfect distraction, the perfect drug, and I just want to keep injecting her into my veins like some sort of miracle cure.
I don't worry and obsess about everyone and everything when I'm around her. I'm so focused on her that there's no room for anything else in my troubled mind.
Is that why I'm refusing to let her go?
Keeping her here against her will makes me exactly what she called me --- a monster.
I told her I'm keeping her here because she's in danger, and she absolutely could be if her fiancé decides to sell her again. I highly doubt he'll get the opportunity to do that under Salvatore's nose again, but there is a small chance that he could.
And I'm not willing to take that chance.
The only solution I can come up with is keeping Adeline here on this island with me. I know it's selfish and wrong, but I don't care. I want her.
I need her.
Determined to get back to work, I turn my attention back to my computer, but find myself quickly accessing the camera feeds instead. I bring up Adeline's room, but find it…empty.
Panicked, I search the entire room and bathroom for any movement. Nothing. She's not in there.
"Where is she?" I growl in frustration.
Bringing up the feed from dinner last night, I watch in horror as I bend Adeline over the table and beat her with my belt. I force myself to watch, to take responsibility for what I've done, and it guts me.
I notice that the first strike made her jump and scream, but that she didn't make a move or sound with the strikes that came thereafter. I zoom in closer, and the expression on her face is a familiar one. She's blocking the pain out. And there's only one way she has mastered that.
She's been hurt before.
Scowling, I fast forward until the moment she's done scrubbing the floor. Her knees buckle as Jax scoops her up in his arms. I grimace. Not only did I beat her, but I made her scrub the entire fucking dining hall on her hands and knees.
I am a fucking monster.
I watch with intense curiosity as Jax carries Adeline to his room. She must still be there. With him.
Growling, I stand and make my way to Jax's room. I've never been jealous of my cousin before, but there's a first time for everything, I suppose.
I pound my fist on Jackson's door. When he opens it a minute later, he has a frown on his face. He's clearly disappointed with me, and it makes me feel a thousand times worse.
Raising my chin, I get a glimpse of Adeline sleeping on his bed. The rumpled sheets coupled with the fact that Jax is only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms fucking enrages me. My hands curl into fists at my sides as anger ripples through every muscle in my body. "Did you fuck her?" I hiss.
Jax pushes me out in the hallway and closes the door behind him. "Keep it down. She's still sleeping."
I stare at him in disbelief. "Well, did you?" I demand.
"No, of course not!" His words manage to slightly calm my internal rage, but now Jax is the angry one. "What the fuck happened last night, Luc?" he snaps.
"I fucking lost it," I growl. "Okay? I fucking lost it, Jax."
Some of his anger seems to dispel at my admission. "You're damn right you did. Adeline was terrified of you last night." He folds his arms across his chest. "So was I. Hell, we all were."
I mimic his posture, and we stand in the hallway with a thick tension hanging between us. I don't need a lecture from Jax. He already knows how fucked up I am. Why he remains here on this island with me, I have no idea. Sure, he leaves every once in a while for his own excursions and exotic desires, but he always returns.
He's like a loyal fucking dog that I don't always want shadowing me, but am thankful to have around anyway.
"How is she feeling?" I ask.
"She's been resting. I gave her some meds," he tells me.
"How bad is it? Her back isn't…" I struggle with my words. "I didn't scar her, did I?" Jax knows I got my scars from a particularly bad beating from my mother when I was nine years old. The metal buckle slashed through my delicate skin over and over again, leaving behind numerous open wounds that eventually healed on their own into rough and jagged scars.
The memory is as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday --- lying in the dark, damp closet she locked me in for days afterwards with no food, no water; my emaciated body covered in blood and shivering so hard my teeth chattered.
Sometimes, in my nightmares, I can still hear my own screams.
"You didn't hit hard enough to scar," he says, snapping me out of my reverie, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. "But she does have some pretty bad bruises."
I expected that. I'm just relived that her beautiful, flawless skin didn't get ravaged by my fucking psychotic episode. I truly don't think I would have been able to live with myself knowing that I scarred her.
"We talked a little last night," Jax says. "She's curious about you. Wants to know why you're…you," he says with a dark chuckle, but I don't find any humor in it. "I told her that it's your story to tell, Luc."
I nod. That's good that he didn't confide in Adeline. I don't need her fucking pity. Just like I don't need Jax's.
"Her father is the one who was beating her, not the fiancé."
"I see," I whisper.
"And it turns out she's in an arranged marriage of sorts. Salvatore is forcing her to marry Giovanni, but I think Adeline actually thinks she could fall in love with the guy, given the circumstances."
Grinding my teeth together, I try to process this new information. No wonder Giovanni had no qualms about selling her. If Salvatore is forcing him into the marriage, he probably doesn't even like the girl, let alone love her.
But Adeline thinks she could fall for him…or has she already fallen?
"How long are you keeping her here, Luc? You can't keep her forever. You know that, don't you?"
I glare at my cousin. "I'm not letting her go." Then I quickly add, "Right now."
His eyes narrow. "All right. I just hope you know what you're doing."
I hate the fact that he's questioning me, but I really hate the fact that I feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing…about anything anymore, and especially not when it comes to Adeline. "I want her back in her room. Today," I demand.
He gives me a single nod.
I turn on my heel and leave, fuming at the fact that I left Adeline in Jax's room. I don't know why the thought of them together infuriated me so much, but I know deep down my fucked-up brain has already laid claim to her.
She's mine.
And I don't want Jax or anyone else to have her.
This obsession over her is driving me mad. I need to stay the fuck away from her for a while. I can't allow myself to have these feelings. It's such a foreign concept that it makes me angry to even think about someone, this girl, changing me.
She's under my skin in a way I never knew possible, and the darkness in me is slowly beginning to crack.
But I refuse to let any light into my black soul…even if it makes me a monster and even if it makes her hate me.
CHAPTER 24
ADELINE
IT'S BEEN FIVE days since I last saw Lucien, Jackson or had any human contact besides someone slipping in my meals three times a day.
The monotonous routine is messing with my head.
Wake up, shower, eat, nap, eat, pace, eat, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over again.
Without TV or so much as a magazine or book, I'm going stir-crazy, and I know this is all part of my punishment. Part of his plan.
And the thing is…it's working. I would do almost anything to go back to the way things were before I threw that dinner plate.
I don't know if it's cabin fever, a bout of deep depression, sheer loneliness, Stockholm syndrome or, hell, maybe all of the above, but I…miss him.
But above all else, I need him.
; He is my only way out of this tedious regimen he's stuck me in. And at this point, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get him to like me again and to stop punishing me for what I did.
And so when he enters my room on the fifth night, I can't contain that sick, deviant need from seeping out of every one of my pores.
I hear the tell-tale beeping sound before the knob turns. Knowing it's definitely not meal time since dinner was served a while ago, my gaze snaps to the door. I watch as Lucien calmly walks in. He's in a three-piece tailored suit, of course, but he looks…alarmingly strange.
I note that the top few buttons of his white shirt are open, revealing some of his muscular chest, and his tie is pulled loose from around his neck. His typically clean-shaven jaw is littered with day-old stubble, and his hair is mussed as if he just got done running his hands through it. All of these things are very uncharacteristic for him. Normally, he's perfectly put together. I've never seen him any other way.
And the sudden change in his demeanor has my spine going ramrod straight.
Did something happen? Is he going to let me go? Is he going to…hurt me again?
The bruises on my backside are finally fading, and I don't want to add anymore to the brutal collection.
I'm not sure of the cause of his distress. It's most likely me, but I don't know what other endeavors he has outside of this house. To be able to afford an entire staffed island, I would imagine he has his fingers in a lot of pies…and probably has a lot of illegal undertakings.
He calmly closes the door and leans up against the wall. His gaze is focused on the floor, and I almost want to scream at him to look at me. I'm so desperate for conversation, not having spoken to anyone in five whole days. I'm starting to forget the sound of my own voice.
Nervously, I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for him to speak. Minutes tick by, and the only sounds in the quiet room are my quick, panting breaths and his steady, sure ones.
Lucien looks like he is mulling something over in his mind. He opens his mouth to speak, but then snaps it shut without uttering a word and shakes his head absently.
"I---I'm sorry," I tell him, the words bursting out of my mouth when I'm not being able to take another minute of mind-numbing silence.
His eyes snap up to meet mine, and they narrow as if searching for any sign of deception on my face. I don't think he was expecting me to be the one apologizing after what happened. Quite honestly, neither was I. After all, it's not like I hit him with a belt.
He clears his throat before asking, "Have you learned your lesson?"
I nod empathically. And when his eyes narrow even further, I answer out loud, "Yes." I want to be out of this godforsaken room so badly that I would agree to and do almost anything at this point.
"Good." He straightens and makes a motion for the door, but I cry out for him to stop before he can leave. His back stiffens as his hand hovers over the keypad.
"Please don't leave," I utter, desperation saturating my voice. "Please. Stay." I'm so damn close to begging at this point.
He turns to me once more, his right eyebrow cocked. "You want me to stay here with you?"
I nod.
"Why?" he asks harshly, clearly thinking I'm trying to trick him somehow.
"I…I just…" My voice trails off. My emotions are at war with each other as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. His handsome features soften the longer I stare at him, and he almost looks…remorseful. Is he sorry for what he did to me? Did he come here to apologize, but didn't get the chance since I did it first?
Jax had told me that if Lucien could tell me he was sorry that he would. Given his troubled past, maybe Lucien has trouble expressing himself and apologizing even when he's clearly in the wrong.
How could I fault him for something out of his control?
I stare at him now, trying to picture him as a lost, sad, little boy. And given his current haphazard and uncharacteristic appearance, it's not hard to do just that.
I want to forgive Lucien, because I need him. Even if I don't want to admit it, I do. And despite the fact that he is the one holding me captive, I can't help but remember our first time together and how that night changed me forever.
I feel a familiar pull in my core as I stare into Lucien's dark eyes and crawl off the bed. I study him intensely as I walk towards him. His dark hair falls rebelliously over two pools of chocolate that appear infinitely deep. He's so incredibly handsome that it hurts to look at him.
How can I hate someone so much, but at the same time crave their touch and just the mere presence of them?
I nibble my bottom lip and stare at the floor. I know what I have to do to keep him here with me. A part of me is screaming in agony for me not to take the next step, but another part of me knows what must be done…and is turned on by it.
He watches me with a guarded look as I approach, observing me curiously. When I reach him, I drop to my knees on the plush carpet. My trembling hands reach for his belt, but he grasps them, holding them back.
"No," he tells me adamantly with a sharp shake of his head.
The intensity in which he stares at me sends a shiver through me. I stare down at his large hands holding my tiny wrists, and I realize that he's touching me…and not freaking out.
When I meet his gaze, I know that he's realizing the exact same thing. "Adeline," he says gruffly.
Gently, he cups my cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing away a stray tear I didn't even know I'd shed. And when his thumb caresses my lips, my tongue automatically darts out to lick the salty taste from his skin.
His eyes widen at the gesture, and he drags the pad of his thumb over my tongue and across my teeth, inhaling sharply, his breath catching in his throat.
I can see the lust in his eyes. I know he wants me. But the question is…do I really want him?
Do I even have a choice at this point?
Before I can second-guess what I'm doing, I wrestle out of his grip and go for the belt again. This time he doesn't stop me. The leather whispers against the belt loops as I pull. And then I unzip and unbutton his suit pants.
Feeling braver by the second, my hands stop shaking long enough for me to pull the material down his legs along with his boxer briefs. His erection springs up next to my face, and I stare at it in awe, wondering how he even fit inside of me our first time together.
Lucien's ragged, uneven breaths fill the room, and I peer up at him. "Can I put my mouth on you?" I ask him in a breathy whisper while clasping my hands behind my back to show him that I won't touch him with anything but my mouth.
He stares at me, his eyes drifting close for a moment before opening once more and locking me in an intense gaze. "Yes," he answers shakily.
His cock is long and not even fully hard yet, the large, smooth head glistening at the tip. My tongue slowly flicks out of my mouth to lick the salty drop from him.
That's when the first groan of pleasure wrenches from his chest, and it only spurs me on. For some unknown reason, I want to please him. I want to make him mine. I'm sure I'll regret all of this later, but I push down all of those thoughts and quiet my mind. I need to stay in this moment.
I lick around the crown over and over again, getting it nice and wet. His upper back falls against the wall as he watches my every move with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes while quick pants escape his lungs through parted lips.
His dick hardens to pure steel when I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and take him deeper into my mouth. I've never done this before, and so I'm not even sure I'm making him feel good. He stays quiet, his expression stoic, and I start to regret my decision to do this. I'm in way over my head at this point, not knowing whether he even likes it or not. When I begin to pull away from all the self-doubt running through my head, he suddenly snatches my hair in his hand.
"What --- why did you stop?" he asks, his gentle tone at odds with his rough hold.
"I don't know if I'm…doing this right," I whisper.
His gri
p in my hair lessens, and he gently grasps my chin and lifts it as he forces my gaze to meet his. "You've never done this before?"
I shake my head, and I watch as his eyelids droop and his nostrils flare. My admission clearly turns him on. "I've never let a woman give me head before," he confesses.
For some sick reason that turns me on and makes me feel almost...powerful. Feeling suddenly more confident, I wrap my lips around him once more. His head falls back against the wall as he lets out a long, shuddering sigh.
He's enjoying this. He just doesn't want to. He's all about control, and I realize that he doesn't want to give me any power over him. That's why he's never let anyone do this before. Because right now, in this situation, I hold all of his pleasure in my hands.
When his eyes are on me once more, watching me, I lick him from root to tip. A shiver takes over his body, and I can't help but grin. I move my tongue down to his balls, licking and sucking them into my mouth. This time, he can't control the groans coming from deep within his chest.
"Oh, fuck, Adeline," he growls out, and a shiver of arousal runs through me and straight to my core.
Squeezing my thighs together as I seek some sort of relief, I lick my way to the head before sucking him into my mouth once again. His hands grip my hair on either side of my head as he thrusts into my mouth, going deeper and deeper until I'm gagging.
"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth. "What are you doing to me, Adeline?" he whispers the question hoarsely as he pumps harder and harder. He's staring at me with such intensity that it floods my panties, and I squeeze my thighs together even harder, moaning around his cock.
Tears fill my eyes as I stare up at him, but I don't try to pull back. I place my hands on his thighs for support, but I don't push him away. I want him to use me, as wrong as that might be.
He growls my name loudly as he comes down my throat, and I swallow every drop of his release. His muscular thighs shudder under my touch, and his chest rises and falls rapidly with gasping, jagged breaths.