Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1)

by Michelle Watson

“I am sorry, Isabel. You’re right, I didn’t know him. But from what I saw, he was a good kid, a kind kid. He helped Mrs. Franklin go grocery shopping every Sunday after church. Everyone knows she’s an old, mean, hateful woman. But Tyler never missed one Sunday.”

  I open my eyes to find his hazy lilac eyes on me. My gaze wanders over his incredible body, more than liking what I see. “You have freckles on your back. Can I count them?” I need to change the subject and quick. Thinking of Tyler is too much to bear right now.

  I’m still too raw.

  Maybe someday I can deal.

  But not now.

  He gives me a concerned glance, then snorts, squeezing a drop of shampoo in his palm and then places the dark blue bottle back on the rack. “Is that a pick up line?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know, but I am actually being genuine. You have an extremely gorgeous back.”

  He gives me a wary sideways glance over his shoulder. That look says so many things. There is relief, confidence, and pain. “Thanks, Pumpkin.” He closes his eyes and massages the gel into his hair, forming a thick lather. The aroma of rich, spicy musk explodes all around me.

  Possessed by the masculine scent, I jump off the counter. When I try to reach him, I’m quickly snatched away. My body collides with a hard one, making a heavy thudding noise.

  “Oof…” A massive hand clasps over my mouth before I can suck down some air and release a scream. In a blink of an eye, I’m hauled over a strong shoulder of a hooded person and carried out the house into the dark winter night. It’s raining again. Cold, wet drops splashes and bites my exposed skin. Before I can process anything further, I’m thrown in a heated truck, not just any truck. It’s Hunter’s truck.

  Hunter’s hooded, furious face comes into view. I scramble across the seat, over to the other side, resting my back against the cool window. He looks extremely frightening. His hands shoot out to grab my ankles, dragging me across the cab and back to him. “Stop resisting, Isabel, before I spank you so hard you’ll never know one before it.”

  I instantly go limp as he pulls me back into my seat and then straps the belt over my lap. Hunter slams my door, jogs around the hood and jumps in, shutting his door behind him. He starts the engine, glancing over his shoulder as he reverses out the driveway.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to spank me?”

  My father used to spank me and my brother for discipline purposes in our adolescent years. I never enjoyed them.

  He looks at me as he maneuvers the truck fully out the driveway.

  That odd look sends my heart soaring.

  “Maybe. Depends on how I feel when we get home.”

  Hunter demanded that I stay in the shower for the longest time. He said I smelled of Max and it made him sick to the core. Every word out of his mouth was an insult and it assaulted me in every way imaginable. Now I stand in his bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel before Hunter.

  His gaze roams over my face, searching for something and then down my body. I unwind the towel and let it drop to my feet. I am bare and vulnerable. His stares at me for a moment and his eyes become sharpen weapons, taking in every angel. Hunter lifts himself off the bed and strolls to me. Once he reaches me, he takes my face between his hands and storks my cheeks with his thumbs. That simple touch burns into my bones.

  “The night isn’t over. I’m still a whore,” I whisper, gazing helplessly into ocean blue eyes.

  One hand leaves my cheek, flipping my hair over my shoulder. He runs the pads of his fingertips across the red bite mark. “He bit you?”

  My lips press together in a grim line, and I remain silent.

  Hunter tips his head down and places a soft kiss over my wound.

  Powerful tingles surge throughout my body as I gasp. Warmth flutters in the pit of my belly as legs buckle.

  Oh.

  My.

  God!

  I’m going to fall.

  Hunter is quick to catch me as my body gives way. He scoops me up in his arms and then lays me down on the bed. He wedges himself between my legs, grinding down. My breath hitches. I feel the steely hardness and scorching heat of his enormous erection through his jeans. Shutting my eyes, I force my hips to stay glued to the bed.

  This cannot be real.

  I hear small wisps of fabric being torn away from his body. Hunter leans down to whisper in my ear. “Do you want me, Isabel?”

  “Yes,” I admit in a low breathy tone.

  His fingers trail up the side of my jaw and his hot erection jabs my sex as he shifts. I pull in a sharp breath. I feel warm skin against slick warm skin. I’m already wet and he’s barely touched me.

  “Open your eyes,” Hunter murmurs in the same low tone. “I want to see you, see me take you.”

  My eyelids snap open. I don’t know if I’m still high off the pills but Hunter’s eyes are sparkling. They’re like glittering blue crystals looking down at me with a wide range of emotions that are all completely foreign.

  This is real and impossible to believe.

  His hands reach up in my thick mass of dark hair, carefully undoing the braids. He yanks on both of the white ribbons, freeing them from my hair. “Hold your wrists out to me.”

  Intrigued, I do and watch in fascination as he links the satin together and then binds both my wrists, fastening them to the headboard. “Pull down.”

  Testing the strength of the ribbons, I try to yank my hands downward but the restraints only get tighter. He runs his fingers down my neck, tracing the intricate henna tattoo that flows along the curves of my body.

  A fierce shiver goes through me.

  “Baby, you’re too innocent to be a whore. You look more like a nervous bride, giving herself away.”

  “I’m not innocent or a bride. I want you to fuck me. Is that such a demanding request? I swear if you don’t, I’ll find someone, anyone, who will.”

  He smiles down at me and my stupid heart clenches painfully in my chest. His smile is anything but friendly. It’s a threat. “Such a filthy mouth,” he scorns playfully. He presses searing kisses down the center of my chest, biting and flicking each nipple as he goes.

  I shudder and jerk against the restraints that instantly tighten.

  “Yeah, baby, I can fuck you. I just hope you understand what you’re asking for. You’re about to make a mistake with Enemy Number One.”

  He flips me over so fast that I don’t have time to anticipate anything. The ribbons dig into my wrists, and I have to hold myself up on my elbows to keep the restraints from completely cutting off my circulation. The position is very uncomfortable, but I’m oddly turned-on.

  “If I remember correctly, someone needed a spanking. I think you even begged me for it. Tilt you sweet ass up.”

  A bundle of nerves and a queasy, uneasy feeling sinks in the pit of my stomach, causing me to get a little lightheaded and nauseous. I’ve never been intimate with Hunter, and he has a notorious reputation for getting completely out of control. He can really hurt me. “I don’t want you to spank me,” I mumble into the pillow.

  “You’re a whore, are you not?”

  I nod, not wanting to give in and admit my fear and concern. He wins that way.

  “Well, Isabel, I take what I want from whores.” He presses a soft kiss in the center of my spine and then nips me lightly, causing my entire body to tremble. “I’m going take what I want from you, whore.”

  “Please?” I can’t stop quivering.

  “No, baby. Tilt your ass up. If I ask again it’ll only be worse for you. I’m being patient. You shouldn’t test me. Be a good little whore and do as I say.” His voice has taken on a sharp, cold, unforgiving, and mocking edge that chills me. It’s depleting my state of arousal.

  My breath is ragged as my heart pounds erratically inside my throat. “Hunter, I can’t…I’m not ready.”

  And I don’t trust you.

  He tsks and the mattress concaves as he moves a little behind
me.

  A moment later, I gasp and my elbows wobble until I collapse flat on the bed. An intense stinging sensation explodes and ripples across my backside. The ribbons bite into my skin. The pain is white-hot and excruciating.

  He slapped my ass!

  Brutally.

  I quickly scurry up on my elbows to support myself and gain some relief. Tears brim my eyes and my breath comes in rapid, heavy pants.

  “Did you like that, Isabel?” His voice is husky and smooth like a male sex phone operator. I’m unsure if I do, but it’s obvious that he does. Hunter is such a sadistic lunatic, an unbelievably sexy sadistic lunatic, but a sadistic lunatic nonetheless.

  I press my lips together, refusing to let him win.

  “All you have to do is say ‘stop’ and I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

  I give a slight nod.

  Without warning another slap strikes me. He doesn’t stop to make sure I’m okay this time. It’s just a current of scorching, cruelly violent smacks. I force myself to swallow the frantic wail that’s building in my chest. Despite the numerous protests I yell inside my head, the malicious spanking is ceaseless.

  I lose count after fifteen.

  I’m sobbing now, incapable of keeping my body from shaking.

  “Is forty enough, Isabel?” his voice is harsh and raw and aroused? “I can go to a hundred if you want, maybe two.”

  “Stop. Please stop,” I cry desperately, my forehead brushing the pillow below, my arms bent in an awkward position, the muscles twitching and cramping.

  Lost in the agony of my throbbing backside and sore wrists, I didn’t realize he untied me until I feel his warm, hard body cuddle into to mine. I sob in his neck as he attentively strokes my hair.

  “I…hate…you…so…much,” I say throughout ugly sobbing. “You’re…so…me-mean to me.”

  He tips his head down and skims his supple lips against mine. I lose my breath and train of thought with him so close. He looms above me, placing sweet kisses down my chest to my belly. His tongue touches my navel.

  I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and thrashing around like a rabid animal. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. He drags his velvety thick tongue down my stomach.

  My sobs cease only for breathy gasps to take its place. When I try to close my legs, Hunter simply places a hand on each knee, forcefully prying my thighs apart. I feel overly vulnerable to him right now and too exposed.

  “Let me kiss it and make it better,” Hunter coos. “Let me make you come. I have to make you come after this. It’s only fair.” His warm breath beats against the inside of my thigh.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I nod, slightly tilting my hips up.

  I guess I want this too.

  He gently kisses the top of my sex in a barely there peck, sending fierce tumors through me. My skin feels tingly and hot. So impossibly hot that I think I might combust into flames. Then his tongue skillfully slides between my folds, up and down, through the wetness.

  My breath leaves a shuddered sigh, and I bolt upright, holding his head in place. A million pleasurable sensations pulses in that one area where he continues to lick. “Hunter,” I whisper, barely audible.

  He presses a hand flat on my belly and harshly shoves me down. My head hits the feather-filled pillows. “Lie back down and accept it. Let me make you feel good.”

  Grunting, moaning and crying, I writhe against his unrelenting mouth. Hunter circles a heavy arm around my waist, effectively holding me in place as he eagerly pushes his face between my legs, licking and sucking away.

  “Hunter, please.” I don’t know what I’m asking for. All I know is that his mouth on me is too intense. His tongue slowly circles my clit and then dips inside me. My eyes widen and I pull in a sharp breath, unable to escape from his hungry mouth because of the weight of his heavy arm. Every muscle within me begins to shiver as an incredible warmth races down my spine.

  I’m close.

  I’m so close.

  My fingers thread through his golden locks. “Baby, please.”

  He says something too low for me to comprehend, then his tongue savagely plunges into me over and over again in faster rhythm. My hips buckle, and I come brutally but that doesn’t deter him from licking. I’m flooded with a current of fiery, body-consuming orgasms. I whimper incoherent protests, desperately pushing his head away. His arm tightens around my hips and then he lightly nips my clit. I explode again so many times the pleasure starts to mingle with pain.

  “Enough. Please, Hunter. I’m going to die. This is too much.”

  He presses sweet kisses inside my left leg and sinks his teeth in the apex of my thigh, biting me. It feels like he’s taking a piece from me.

  I cry out and roughly shove his head away, tears spilling from my eyes.

  He collapses beside me, rolling me over to him, forming me into the curves of his solid, muscular body.

  Even though it’s dark, the silver moonlight beams through all the windows, making the room pale and illuminating. I look up into his tortured, handsome face. Pure blue eyes stare back at me. My heart flutters. I allow myself the simple pleasure of watching him blink for five more seconds before I close my eyes and groan. Every aspect of Hunter is just too overwhelming. His fingertips gingerly explore the features of my face as if it’s made from some delicate material. He drops his hand from my face and places it over my heart. It thuds heavily under his palm that threatens to burn right into my chest.

  “Your heart is racing,” he whispers with some kind of strange awe in his voice.

  I snuggle closer into him, resting my face in his neck. He smells like manly beauty and rain. “My heart beats fast because I love you.” With that confession, I let the darkness take over and quickly fall into a place where the wildest of dreams can come true.

  Chapter ten

  Untouchable

  Isabel age six

  Hunter age seven

  “So they call it Cherry Creek because the town has a lot of cherry trees?” I ask my mom as I swing on the tire swing, hanging from the big willow tree in front of my house.

  “Um huh,” she replies, giving me a soft shove from behind, sending me higher into the sky. “And during the spring and fall most of the cherries end up in the river.”

  “I guess that’s kinda cool.”

  “You’re six, sweet pea. Everything’s ‘kinda cool’ to you.” My mom catches the swing in mid motion, bringing me back to her. My legs dangle from the black tire, shoestrings from my red Converses unlaced on both shoes, but they don’t reach the ground yet. I’m not tall enough. She turns me around. At first the bright sun rays filtering through the treetops obscure her face. It’s just the brilliancy of the white-yellow sunbeams and loose strands of her light wheat blond hair that escaped her long braid and her white flowy dress. She looks like an angel. I squint and my eyes slowly adjust. She smiles at me with gleaming green eyes.

  “I love you, Isabel.”

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  A small cry echoes from the house. She glances at the front door, then looks back at me. “Looks like your baby brother is up from his nap. After I feed him, I’ll bring him outside to play with you, alright?”

  “Okay.”

  She kisses my forehead, then her hands release the rope of the swing and she strolls up the side of the house and up the yellow wooden steps to the porch. Mommy pauses at the glass door and turns to look back at me. “Don’t leave the front yard, sweet pea.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  She smiles and nods, opening the door and walking inside the house.

  I shift the swing back around and before I can make another move, someone suddenly pushes the swing, sending me flying across the yard. I go tumbling to the ground, landing on my belly. My knees and hands are scrapped and bleeding. It hurts and stings so bad. I open my mouth to cry for my Mommy but a warm hand pulls me off the ground.

  I wobble a little as I get bac
k on my feet.

  I look up and a boy with blue eyes and long ashy golden hair, wearing overalls and white pretty shoes. He presses his finger against my lips. “Shhh. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was a prank.”

  Something wet drips down my legs, I look down and see lots of blood coming from my knees. My eyes fill with more tears. The pretty boy covers my mouth with his hand. “Don’t scream. I’m not supposed to be here. You’ll get me in trouble. I’ll kiss it and make it better, okay?”

  Sniffling and wiping the tears with the backs of my hands, I nod.

  “I’m gonna remove my hand and kiss your sores. I know it hurts but you can’t scream.”

  I nod again.

  He stares at me for a while and then drops his hand and picks up both of my mine, flipping them over so he can see the red scratches on my palms. He lifts my hands to his face and kisses each palm.

  His lips make me feel funny.

  My tummy hurts.

  I close my eyes as tears roll down my cheeks. He lets my hands go. I feel his warm lips touch the wetness on both my knees. I stagger back from the funny feeling in my chest and tummy.

  I feel sick.

  The boy catches me by the arms before I fall again.

  He smiles and dusts off the grass and dirt from my dress. “I got you all dirty. Will your Mama be mad?”

  I shake my head.

  His smile gets bigger. “That’s good. I get dirty all the time and my Mama whips me. I never cry though. But she doesn’t cry when Daddy whips her either. Mama says Daddy lost his mind when his brother Smith died.”

  I ball my fists up, even though they hurt and my tears fall faster.

  He puts his hands on my face, wiping them away. “Does it hurt that bad?”

  I look down at our shoes and shake my head.

  “Why are you crying then?”

  “I’m sad.”

  “You’re sad ’cause I pushed you off the swing?”

  I shake my head again.

  “Why then?”

  I sniffle and wipe the wetness from my nose with my arm, then I glance into his blue eyes that look like pure water from the sea. “Because your Mommy whips you, I’m sad for you. I’m crying for you.”