Echo: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Bleeding Hearts Book 1)

by Zavarelli, A

  Something strange passed over his features, and he tightened his grip on me but tore his gaze away.

  “Happiness is an illusion, Brighton. It’s only something people think they can have. It’s fleeting. It can be taken away at any moment.”

  My grip on him tightened too, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “If that’s true,” I whispered. “Then what’s the point?”

  He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to.

  I changed the subject.

  “Why did you pretend like you didn’t remember me?” I asked. “The first day I saw you again.”

  This time, he didn’t hesitate to answer. “I thought it would be easier for you.”

  “How?”

  His eyes found mine again, and I had to remind myself to breathe. It was so easy to get lost in those blue depths. To feel like this was where I belonged, wrapped in his arms.

  “I didn’t want you to expect things from me that weren’t possible. Things a girl like you probably wants from a man. Things I can’t give you.”

  I fluttered my eyes closed and focused on the beating of his heart.

  It did exist. I knew he had one. So why was he making it sound like he didn’t?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Summer faded into fall, and before I knew it, it had been two and a half months. That was how long Ryland and I had been playing his game.

  It was strange how things had evolved between us. We had a routine now. My weekends belonged to him, and they were spent at his home on Belvedere Island. We still had our hotel visits too, usually twice a week. He was a busy man, and it didn’t leave him a lot of free time. What little he did have, he spent with me.

  I didn’t have any illusions. It was still a game to him. But I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my heart out of it.

  I never knew what to expect from him. The sex could be anything from sweet and gentle to downright insane. Ryland had dark days. Days when he needed to exorcise his demons, and he would use me to do it. I accepted the pain he doled out with open arms. I was long past being ashamed of it. When he was in one of those moods, he could fuck me for hours and never stop.

  For some reason, those times were the most intimate between us. Those sessions were crazy and addicting, and I got high even thinking about them. But they scared me too. Ryland’s darkness was a double edged sword. The very thing that held us together was also the thing threatening to tear us apart.

  He spoke of it as though it were an entity that lived inside of him. And if that were true, then like all unwelcomed house guests, I thought surely it could be banished. But when I looked into his tormented eyes, I didn’t want him to change. I wanted him to find happiness. Even if it was only fleeting.

  ***

  Ryland was on the phone when I walked into his office, and I hovered near the door uncertainly. He gestured for me to close it, and then come to him. I did.

  The minute I was within reach, he pulled me into his lap. My head fell against his chest and his fingers feathered over my back while he continued to speak. He sounded irritated. Something hadn’t gone his way at the meeting today.

  When he finally got off the phone, his head fell back against the leather chair with a groan.

  “You called for me?” I asked.

  “I did.”

  He was still stroking my back, his eyes closed.

  “I have another meeting in thirty minutes,” he said.

  He didn’t need to tell me what he wanted. The tension in his body made it clear. The devil inside of him wanted to come out and play. Thirty minutes wasn’t a long time, but I was certain he had every intention of making them count.

  I crawled onto the floor and positioned myself between his legs, dragging my fingers over the erection beneath his trousers. It was like waking the beast.

  His eyes opened slowly, and then they fixated on me. There was a rapturous hunger there I only glimpsed in moments like these. Where he was the hunter and I was the prey. Where I was the virtuous innocent who looked upon him like the monster he wanted to be. He craved these moments, I could see it in every inch of his soul. If there was one thing I knew how to recognize, it was an addict.

  And Ryland Bennett was addicted to me.

  I released him from the confines of his pants and sucked him into my mouth. It was too gentle, and I was well aware of it.

  I smiled when his hands threaded through my hair and pushed me down onto his groin.

  “You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned. “You always know…”

  His words drifted off as he force fed me his cock. There was an odd assortment of sweetness mixed in with the harsh words that flew from his mouth during these sessions.

  He told me I was his dirty little angel and I loved it when he degraded me like this. That I loved being used by him. Then he would tell me how sweet and beautiful and pure I was. I didn’t believe for a second that any of those things were true, especially since I did love what he was doing.

  He nearly came several times before he pulled away, his breath ragged. He stood over me, his cock jutting out from between his legs, still glistening from my saliva. God, he was sexy when he was like this.

  “Get up,” he demanded.

  I rose up on shaky legs and he spun me around and flattened me over his desk. He lifted my skirt and pulled my panties to the side before pressing his body against mine. His arousal dug into my back when he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

  “You’re going to feel me every time you move today.”

  His hand wrapped around my throat and held me down while his palm reverberated across my ass. I yelped, and then he did the same to the other side.

  “I own you, Brighton.”

  I whimpered.

  “Say it.”

  I smashed my lips together and smiled beneath the curtain of my hair.

  “Don’t deny me,” he growled.

  I did, but only because I knew he liked it.

  “Goddammit,” he grunted. “Now I’m going to have to show you.”

  I heard the sound of his belt being tugged from his pants, and I shivered. He’d trained me to like this. And I did. God, did I like it.

  He held me down and fucked me fast and hard as he lashed my ass with the belt. He was breathing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. I’d barely be able to walk out of this office, but it would be worth it. I liked taking his pain away.

  What was wrong with me?

  “Fucking hell,” he grunted, slapping his hips against mine. “Why do you push me like this? Just say it, baby girl.”

  I finally relented, giving him what he wanted.

  “I’m yours. You own me.”

  It wasn’t a lie.

  He fell on top of me as his cock jerked inside of me, filling me with everything he had. I clenched around him and whined when he pulled away.

  He fixed his clothes, and then mine, the same way he always did. Then he pulled me back into his lap. My ass was sore as hell and he smirked when he saw me wince.

  “I’ll take care of that for you tonight,” he said softly.

  “Okay.”

  He always took care of me afterwards. That was how I knew he did have a heart. I leaned back against his chest just to feel it, and he kissed my neck.

  “Brighton?”

  “Hmm?” I murmured sleepily.

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke to his hands on my body.

  It was late, and I didn’t expect to hear from him. He told me he had too much work, and I went to sleep. But now here he was, in my apartment. He never came to my apartment, except for that first day.

  Something cool glided over my back, and I realized he was putting aloe on my skin.

  “I told you I would take care of you,” he whispered.

  I rolled to face him and curled up in his arms. He held me and fanned my hair across his chest the way he liked. I squeeze
d him tighter, hoping he wouldn’t go. I could feel his pulse against my skin, lulling me to sleep like a sweet melody.

  This was becoming a problem. But I craved him in these ways. The unexpected ones. Like his forehead kisses, or the way he pulled me closer in his sleep. He wanted me to accept these things. He took everything I gave and still demanded more. Always more.

  But how much more could I give him? Nothing had changed. Why did I keep forgetting that? How could I do this to Brayden?

  “Stop thinking,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”

  It was easy when he gave me the order. I didn’t have to think. I just did what he said without question. So I nuzzled closer and let sleep carry me away.

  ***

  It was the weekend which meant we were spending it on Belvedere Island.

  Ryland was working in his office, and I was writing a letter to Brayden. It was risky doing it here, but I was falling behind.

  My guilt had been eating at me, and Brayden was suffering for it. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I loved my brother more than anything, and I wanted to believe I was doing this for him. That was true at the start, but was that still the case?

  I still had no idea what Ryland’s motives were. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. I knew nothing about his family. The only time he’d spoken of them was when he mentioned his father, but that was in the past tense. Also, Ted had let it slip that he’d been his driver since he was a young child.

  Ted probably had a whole vault of information on Ryland, but could I pry it out of him? I highly doubted it. He seemed as loyal as they came. On the ride over tonight, I’d hedged towards the subject and he quickly shut it down. He may have been older, but he was sharp as a tack.

  So that left nothing but my brain to connect the dots. I needed to find a way to get Brayden to talk about him without alerting Ryland. But so far, I was coming up empty.

  It was late, and I was tired, so I put my things away and changed into my pajamas. I was sure Ryland would be in soon enough, so I curled up and fell asleep.

  ***

  I woke with a rush of air from my lungs and a racing heart. When I glanced around the dark room, panic threatened to engulf me. I flicked on the bedside lamp, expecting to find someone beside me. But I was alone, and a glance at the clock confirmed it was three am.

  I didn’t know what had woken me, but a chill came over me as I clutched my arms around my chest. I was shaking.

  I padded to the ottoman and wrapped a silk bathrobe around me before tiptoeing down the hall. The house was much larger when I was walking through it by myself, and much darker too. Though it was incredibly beautiful, there was also a haunted quality to it. The more time I spent here, the more I noticed that lingering sense of despair.

  I poked my head into each room I passed, most of which opened without protest. There was a library on this floor where I often spent time, along with a state of the art gym. Several empty rooms with sterile bedding sat untouched, and I gathered these were probably guest rooms.

  When I reached the staircase, I lowered my foot to go downstairs to the office where Ryland would most likely be. But then my curiosity got the best of me, and I moved upwards instead.

  The first couple of floorboards creaked under the weight of my feet, and I carefully tested every one after to find the right spot. I didn’t like sneaking around, but I needed to know what Ryland’s motives were. Even if that meant I had to dig them up myself.

  I made it up to the next level, only to be shocked by the state of it. Dim lights flickered along the corridor, highlighting the dust bunnies that had made this level home. While every other area of the house was immaculate, this one lay untouched. One corner of the wallpaper hung in tatters while several burnt out lights stood out like sore thumbs.

  I tiptoed down the hall, wrapping my robe around me tightly. Even the air up here was cooler too. I jiggled the first doorknob I came to, only to be met with the resistance of a lock. The knob was an old-fashioned type that appeared to take some sort of skeleton key.

  I found it odd but continued on my way, only to be met with the same resistance at every door. But at the end of the hall, a sliver of light spilled into the hallway, giving me hope my venture wouldn’t be completely fruitless.

  I moved closer, holding my breath as I placed my hand on the wood, preparing to open it further. But before I could, I caught a glimpse of movement inside.

  Ryland was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a box in his lap as he sorted through the contents. His back was facing the door, and I couldn’t make out what he was looking at when he pulled something from the box. Whatever it was, he stared at it for a long time. The tension in his body was obvious, and instinctively I knew this was something he wouldn’t want me seeing.

  My eyes wandered around the room, taking in whatever little details I could. Masculine colors dominated the bed and the few random items of clothing that were strewn about. It was odd that it was so messy and looked so lived in. It wasn’t Ryland’s room, but it was definitely a man’s room. There were stacks of CD’s on the dresser covered in at least an inch of dust. A signed poster from a rock band hung from the wall, and there was a PlayStation and about a million games beneath it.

  On the bedside table was a picture frame, and it was tilted just enough that it was out of my line of sight. I mentally debated whether I’d be able to reach through the door and turn it without alerting Ryland, but I chickened out at the last second.

  He made a noise in his throat and I clapped a hand over my mouth. He closed up the box of contents he’d been looking at, and I was sure he was about to get up.

  But instead, he slumped forward and braced his head in his hands.

  It was this moment that something broke inside of me. What I witnessed was pure, undiluted pain. I hadn’t seen it before. He’d used his anger to hide it, the same way I’d seen Brayden often do. But this was so much worse. This told me something horrible happened to Ryland Bennett. And that’s how I knew I was royally fucked. Because I cared, and I shouldn’t have.

  It became obvious I was no longer playing a game to save my brother. I was falling for the very man who’d coerced me into it.

  ***

  The weight of the bed dipped when he laid down beside me. I quieted my breathing as I debated what I should do. I could pretend I was asleep. That I hadn’t witnessed what I just had. It was the smart thing to do. The thing my self-preservation was screaming at me to do. But it wasn’t what my heart wanted.

  I rolled towards him and pressed my palm against his chest. It was bare, and even now I could feel the scars that marred it. They were thick and jagged, spanning the length of his rib cage up to his chest. I wondered what could have hurt him so badly and I hoped that someday, he would finally tell me.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked softly.

  I didn’t answer. I clutched his face in my hands and pulled his lips to mine. I needed him inside me. Why, I couldn’t explain. But I did.

  Ryland didn’t protest when I climbed on top of him and unceremoniously pulled down his waistband until his cock sprang free. My fever quickly spread to him as his hands tugged at the silk camisole I was wearing, trying to free it from my body.

  He ended up settling for pushing it around my waist as I sank down onto his erection, thrusting my entire body forward for his pleasure. His hands pawed at my breasts while I rocked against him, making him groan with every movement.

  When his mouth wrapped around my nipple, I cried out his name. We both went wild with need, using each other for our own desperate pleasure… sucking and nipping, gripping and pulling. My tongue, my breasts, my hair… they all became objects of his desire while I clutched at his arms and kissed along his neck. It was the strangest combination of sex we’d ever had. Raw, animal fucking interspersed with sweet passion.

  He would bite me and pull my hair, then soothe it with a gentle caress while he kissed me
until I couldn’t breathe. When I finally hit the crescendo, he threaded his fingers through mine before allowing his own release a moment later.

  Once it was all over, silence engulfed the room around us. I had no words, and apparently neither did he. He moved to pull out, but I couldn’t let him. Not yet. I needed him there, inside of me, connected to me… where he belonged.

  Ryland groaned as he flipped me onto my back and began to pulse inside of me with the smallest of movements while he kissed every inch of my face. The room was still dark, save for the light of the moon that spilled in through the curtain. And in that darkness, I felt safe with him. Safe to let myself be vulnerable in his arms.

  He spent the rest of the night inside of me, savoring every moment as if it were a gift. When he finally collapsed and pulled me into his arms, I asked him again the question that haunted me.

  “Why me, Ryland?”

  He kissed me on the forehead and gave me the same answer he had before as he pulled me closer. “It could only ever be you.”

  The sun was coming up, but I wasn’t tired, and by the pattern of his breathing he wasn’t going to sleep either. Still, I hadn’t expected him to speak, so when he did, it surprised me.

  “Sometimes I ask myself the same thing,” he admitted. “It was logical for me to choose you, but I didn’t think I wanted to. Everything changed when I saw you that day. When I learned everything there was to know about you.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know everything about me,” I replied. “Only what you’ve seen on paper.”

  “Try me,” he suggested.

  “Okay…” I mulled this over for a moment before asking him the dumbest question I could think of. “How do I take my pancakes?”

  “With peanut butter and powdered sugar. A disgusting combination by the way.”

  I stared at him with my mouth gaping as I processed his words. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “I told you.” He shrugged. “I know everything there is to know about you, Brighton.”