Sinful Illusions

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Sinful Illusions Page 12

by Morgan James


  I was still furious that his ploy had worked. He’d paid people to pack up my things and tell some tale that I’d picked up and left, and they’d eaten it right out of his hand. I loathed him. I loathed myself for not saying otherwise to Rose when I spoke with her. I should have tried. I cursed myself for being a coward. What would he have done? Killed me? I discarded the idea. No, as much as I despised him, I didn’t think he would kill me. Stupid, considering what had happened with my sister. More than likely, he would ship me off to Nikolai or someone equally horrible. I never wanted to see that man again. And if I pushed Fox too far, that was exactly where I would end up. I didn’t want to be stuck here, but it was the lesser of two evils.

  I was a little disappointed that he’d been ignoring me for the past few days, but part of me was also relieved. I needed to remember that I was his captive. Fox wasn’t a good man. He’d killed my sister and threatened to sell me to the highest bidder—something I still couldn’t figure that out. Looking back, it seemed like a test of sorts, though I’d been scared out of my mind at the time. I wondered if that was part of my punishment for trying to run away.

  He seemed to know all along that he wasn’t going to let me go. Though I was sure the other men had made Fox substantial offers to have me—something that still had the power to chill me to the bone—they were barely out of the front door before he’d taken me to bed.

  And that was a whole other issue. I was still furious with myself for being so turned on, for enjoying it so much. Part of me wanted more. It was sick, but desire curled low in my belly when I thought back to that night when he’d spanked me, then taken me with an almost feral need. Despite the burning need I felt for him, I knew I couldn’t sleep with him again. To do so would be to risk my conscience. I came here for revenge, and I was already wavering. I couldn’t become complacent and let him use me as some fuck toy until he tired of me. I refused to let him undermine me and the reason I was here. Sex would only cloud the issue further, and I needed to keep my head clear so I could focus on escaping—for real this time. One of these days I would find a weak spot—either in his security or in Fox himself.

  Resigned to my plan for the moment, I pulled out a jar of jelly, then raided the pantry for a loaf of bread and peanut butter. I smeared the gooey goodness over the bread, my stomach growling with anticipation. Fox’s cook was talented, but sometimes nothing beat old-fashioned comfort food. Leaning against the island, I stared out the darkened windows, contemplating what my life had become over just a few short weeks. I was almost finished eating when a deep voice floated through the darkness.

  “Stop skipping meals and you won’t have to sneak around in the dark.”

  My pulse immediately kicked up, but I fought to keep myself in check as Fox ventured closer. “I wasn’t hungry at dinnertime.”

  “Hmm…” He leaned against the counter next to me and idly played with the knife I’d used to cut the sandwich. Grasping the handle, he picked it up, and my breath caught in my throat, watching the blade glint in the light. Without another word, he reached across me, deliberately close, and set the knife in the sink before turning his attention back to me. “You could have asked someone to bring you something.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said primly.

  “Obviously.” A condescending smirk tipped the corners of his lips as he studied the jars of peanut butter and jelly still sitting on the counter. “You’re doing a stellar job.”

  “What the hell’s wrong with peanut butter and jelly?” I challenged.

  “Nothing—if you’re twelve,” he returned in that low, amused tone.

  My cheeks burned at the insult. “No one will let me do anything by myself,” I snapped. “The cook refuses to let me make my own dinner, and your housekeeper won’t even let me clean my own room.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “I would have to fire them if they did.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I was responsible for all these things before I came here, you know.”

  “Well, now you’re mine. I’ll take care of you and anything you need.”

  “What if you can’t give me what I need?” I threw at him.

  His smile grew to a full-fledged grin. “Oh, Eva, I can give you exactly what you need. All you have to do is ask.”

  I glared at him. “You deliberately misunderstand me. You offer sex. And mediocre sex at that. All I need is freedom.”

  Laughed boomed out of his chest. “Mediocre sex? Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. We both know better.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “From what I’ve seen, it’s not all that great.”

  “Really?” He advanced toward me like a sleek jungle cat ready to pounce. “So, you didn’t cream all over my dick the other night?”

  “I—”

  “Because I’m pretty sure your screams are still echoing through the hallway upstairs.”

  “You’re vile,” I spat.

  “Facts are facts, Eva. Tell me—do I turn you on?”

  My core tightened as the scent of his cologne reached my nostrils. “No.”

  “Come on, angel.” A shiver rolled down my spine at his deep baritone that caressed my skin, and I clenched my legs together. “Admit it. Tell me you want me.”

  I lifted one shoulder, feigning indifference. “There’s nothing to admit.”

  No matter what happened, I would never let him see my weakness. I would never let him see what was truly inside me—that I craved his touch. And I hated myself for it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Fox

  Such a stubborn little thing.

  I studied her stiff posture, the look in her eyes completely at odds with the words coming out of her mouth. “I don’t believe you.”

  Her gaze skittered over my shoulder, unable to hold my stare. “It’s the truth.”

  “Look at me.”

  She rolled her eyes, still looking at the wall behind me. “Why?”

  “I want you to look me in the eyes when you lie to me.” She dragged her gaze back to mine, eyes flashing with fire, and I held back a smirk. “What did I tell you about that? What happens to little liars?”

  She licked her lips. “They get punished.”

  “If I bent you over this counter right now, would I find your pussy dripping wet for me?”

  A tiny tremble rolled through her body, and I could see the tension in her muscles as she fought to repress it. “No.”

  I gritted my teeth, caught somewhere between frustration and satisfaction. She was asking for it. Did she even realize? I couldn’t tell. “You said it yourself—bad girls get punished,” I reminded her.

  I spun her around and slapped her hands on the cool counter. Her legs shifted, and I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of her pants, then dragged them downward. I didn’t have to touch her to know that she was drenched. Her sweet essence filled the air, and I dragged it into my lungs. Cupping her bottom with one hand, I massaged her cheek. Reaching behind me, I snagged a plastic spatula from the canister next to the stove top.

  She thrust her bottom at me, yearning for my touch. She had no idea what was coming. I brought the flat side down hard and fast, and she shrieked in surprise when it connected with her skin. Her body jerked, and I forced her down until her breasts were pressed flat, levering my weight against her. I spanked the other cheek, and she rose up on her toes, sucking in a breath as red bloomed over her skin. Alternating between cheeks I paddled her ass, keeping the swats light, almost teasing.

  “Going to lie to me again?”

  “N-no,” she panted out between breaths. “Oh, God—I swear. I won’t, I promise.”

  I tossed the spatula in the sink next to her. “Hmm… We’ll see about that.”

  Her tits were pressed to the cool, hard surface of the granite, and her legs trembled as I swept my fingers up and over the back of her thighs. Her skin was hot to the touch, and I gently massaged her sore cheeks as I slipped my left hand around her hip and between her folds. She sucked in a little br
eath as my fingers encountered the sticky wetness there.

  “Mmm… Eva, I think you love it when I punish you.”

  I couldn’t see her face, turned away from me as she was, but I caught the slight rise of her back as her breathing hitched. Still lightly rubbing her bottom with one hand, I sank two fingers deep inside her. She stifled a little sound of pleasure, and I smiled. Without warning, I curled my fingers into the tender flesh of her right cheek. Eva sucked in a breath as she lifted up on her toes, her sheath contracting around me.

  My smile grew, and I lifted my hand, giving her a moment’s respite before delivering another stinging slap to her ass. She moaned, her pussy clenching around my fingers, her cream dripping down my hand. My angel definitely had a little masochist in her. “So fucking perfect.”

  I pulled my hand free and turned her in my arms, then lifted my fingers and touched them to her lips. Her tongue darted out, licking up her sweetness. The sight was erotic as hell, and I kissed her hard. Reaching between us, I worked my belt free.

  At the sound of the buckle clinking, her head whipped back, and her wide eyes met mine. “Not here.” I lifted my brows, and she shot a quick look around as if checking to make sure no one else was present. “Please. Not in the open, where—”

  I shook my head, cutting her off. “No one would dare come in while I’m here.” My eyes skimmed over her, legs trapped in place by the pants tangled around her ankles. Stepping on the fabric pooled between her feet, I held it in place. “Step out.”

  She did as I bade, and I shoved my pants down then lifted her, setting her on the counter. She gasped at the sensation—affected by either the coolness of the granite or the feel of her tender, freshly spanked bottom on the hard surface, I wasn’t sure. Her hands wound around my shoulders, and I tensed. Grasping her hands, I pushed her so she lay flat on her back.

  “Hold on tight.” Lining myself up with her, I plunged deep, pulling her forward and onto my cock. I let out a growl as her heat surrounded me, and I sank in all the way to the hilt. Hanging half off the counter, her weight pulled her down, and I swore I could feel every inch of her. I curled my fingers into the flesh of her bottom, lifting and lowering her onto my cock. Her hands slapped downward, then curled around the edge of the granite in an effort to hold herself up, and I leaned into her, pounding harder and faster. The sound of utensils clattering together reached my ears, but the sound was drowned out by the rapid tempo of the blood pulsing through my ears, combined with Eva’s cries of pleasure. She contracted around me and came hard, flooding my cock with her liquid heat. I plunged deeper, harder, spurred on by her arousal. Eva threw one arm up, knocking the jar of jelly off the counter as she slapped a palm over her mouth to stifle her scream.

  The sound of glass shattering filled the air and echoed through the room, mingling with my muted roar as I came. Her pussy was soaked, saturated with both our arousal, and I felt it slip out of her as I slowed to a stop. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs, and my body vibrated with the remnants of pleasure. I wanted to close my eyes and remain right here, with her still wrapped around me. Shocked by my thoughts, I reared back, pulling free of her. I shifted, and glass crunched beneath my shoes.

  “Fuck.” I slipped my arms around her and lifted her to my chest. She clutched at my shoulders as I carried her away from the mess on the floor. I slipped out of my jacket and wrapped it around her. “Your pants may have glass on them. Use this to cover up.” She nodded jerkily and escaped without a word. Once she’d disappeared from the room I leaned against the counter and tipped my head back, staring vacantly at the ceiling. What the fuck was I doing?

  The need to have Eva was all-consuming, and I loved it as much as I despised it. It made me feel weak, as if my carefully cultivated control was slipping through my fingers. She drove me half-crazy with desire, like getting back inside her was the only thing that mattered. Never before had I ever been able to touch a woman the way I did Eva. For whatever reason, my visions didn’t plague me when I was with her. I could run my hands all over her without worry of images crowding my brain. It was exhilarating. I felt almost… free. Even when Eva had wrapped her arms around me, it didn’t bother me nearly as much as when other women had done so. I didn’t dare examine the feeling too closely.

  I was acutely aware of the scars covering the expanse of my back, and I showed them to no one. I never allowed women to touch me, never gave them the opportunity to question what had happened. But with Eva, I found I welcomed her touch, the way her hands skimmed over my skin. Considering she’d stabbed me once, it was more than ridiculous. Opening myself up to anyone, Eva included, was dangerous. I couldn’t afford to let anyone in, let alone reveal the truth of my past. If she got too close, learned too much, it could destroy me.

  My mind was completely fucked, and it was all her fault. Eva was a complete paradox to me. I couldn’t read her, not through vision or touch. But she stirred something deep inside me, some emotion I wasn’t even aware I possessed. I needed to take control once more, prove that it was just a fluke—it wasn’t Eva herself that had this kind of hold over me, but the sex itself.

  I hated her for making me feel anything, everything. No other woman had ever affected me the way Eva did, and I resented the hell out of her for it. I needed to distance myself from Eva—the sooner the better. And I knew precisely the way to do it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eva

  Pulling the edges of the jacket more closely together, I sidled to the doorway and glanced around. The hallway was empty, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I scurried toward the stairs. Thank God no one had been around to hear us. My cheeks flamed at the thought of what I had just done.

  Most of the staff was aware that Fox was practically keeping me as his personal mistress, but what we had just done in the kitchen was a whole new low. I didn’t think I could face any of them again if they’d overheard or walked in on us just a few minutes prior.

  I headed toward the stairs, intent on making it to my room without being spotted. I was brought up short when a door to my right flew open and Rodrigo stepped out into the hallway. I let out a startled cry and stumbled over my feet in an effort not to run into him. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t say a word, just stared at me with those lifeless dark eyes. I shifted away, still facing him, unwilling to turn my back on him. Though he never spoke to me unless absolutely necessary, I got a horrible feeling from him. I could feel his eyes on me sometimes, watching me, judging me. It was as if he despised me and wanted me gone. At least in that regard, we could agree. I had no desire to be here any more than he wanted me here.

  His cold gaze swept slowly over me from head to toe, taking in my bare legs and feet before making his way back up to my face. My cheeks burned with shame, but I refused to shift under the scrutiny. “Excuse me.”

  Rodrigo dipped his chin a fraction, an almost insulting smirk on his face, as if he knew exactly what had transpired and why I was dressed this way. I felt my neck and cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I bit my tongue and notched my chin up. This wasn’t my house, but Fox had decided that I was staying. It wasn’t as if I had any choice in the matter. For the time being, I belonged here just as much as Rodrigo did. Unfortunately, I didn’t think he believed it.

  He watched me like a hawk, looking like he would gladly gut me the first chance he got—and enjoy every second. A killer lurked behind those eyes; I could feel it. There was a malevolence to him that surpassed even Fox, and goosebumps rose over my arms and legs as I took a step backward, putting distance between us. I wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

  Rodrigo was doing exactly as his boss had commanded and was keeping an eye on me. I couldn’t blame him for that. He was the kind of man who used fear to control people, to bend them to his will. To show him any sign of weakness would give him full control over me, and I refused to let him see that he’d unsettled me.

  Keeping the hem of the jacket tucked firmly around my bottom, I held my
head high and took the stairs as if I had all the time in the world. When I reached the curve, I threw a look downward. Rodrigo stood there, still as a statue, watching my every move. A chill raced down my spine, and I fought the urge to break into a run. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I crested the landing and out of sight. I snuck a look over my shoulder as I made my way down the hall and began to pick up the pace. When I finally came to my room, I threw myself inside and slammed the door, then locked it.

  Heart slamming against my ribs, unease causing my breath to come quickly and erratically, I glanced frantically around. Fox’s room was off-limits to the staff, and that directive seemed to extend to mine as well, with the exception of the housekeeper. For some reason, I couldn’t shake my unease. I pushed off the door, cautiously searching every nook and cranny, waiting for someone to jump out at me.

  Once I was sure the room was clear, I leaned against the wall in the large bathroom and drew in a deep, calming breath. Anger replaced my earlier fear. Who the hell did he think he was? So far, he hadn’t said a single word to me, only conveyed his intense displeasure with those cold eyes. I couldn’t exactly run to Fox and complain; Rodrigo was only doing as he was asked. He would, however, bear watching. I couldn’t afford to turn my back on a man like him—not unless I wanted a knife in it. Figuratively or literally, I wasn’t sure. He seemed capable of anything.

  Locking the bathroom door, I shed Fox’s suit jacket and my shirt, then climbed into the shower. My inner thighs were sticky with our combined come, and heat burned my cheeks. I’d allowed him to take me right there in the kitchen where anyone could see. No matter that he would have killed them. The moment he slid inside me, I’d forgotten to care about anything else.

  Fire roared to life in my belly at the memory of him filling me, his mouth and hands taking control of every inch of my body. It was depraved, and I should be humiliated at my actions. But I couldn’t dredge up the energy. I was still riding high on pleasure. Although I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t help it. I loved the way he made me feel, as if he’d brought a secret part of me to life.

 

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