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Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

Page 49

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz


  And that was assuming this monster let her go.

  She backed off, but Reyner’s arm wrapped around her waist, holding her captive. “You don’t want to go to your room,” he said conversationally, though the command pricked her skin until she was breathless. “You want to come with us.”

  She shook her head, panic making her lightheaded.

  Reyner sighed, a pout on his face, and said, “Jay, you compel her. Mine’s sliding off.”

  Jay groaned from up the hall and stomped back, shoving Reyner out of the way. Celeste froze as Jay took her face between his calloused palms, surprisingly gentle. His voice was like poured chocolate, a smooth, deep caress; his dark eyes froze her, held her still. “You’re going to come with us to our room, and do whatever Reyner and I tell you to.”

  Celeste shook harder, but his compulsion settled over her shoulders like a tight, comforting blanket. Her shoulders relaxed, tension seeping from her body and a long sigh slipped from her. “Or what?”

  Reyner snorted, stroking his hand down her arm. “So dramatic. If you don’t do what we say, it won’t be fun. And you want to have fun with us, don’t you?” He pressed so much compulsion into the words that Celeste gasped, the pricks up and down her arms biting through the soft, drowsy feel of Jay’s lure.

  “Yes,” she forced out. She needed to say something, or he might put more power into his words. And her resistance charm might falter again.

  “That’s our girl,” Reyner praised, smiling wide and charming. The strength of his lure lifted, and her arms no longer felt like they were stabbed with a thousand needles. “Come on, gorgeous.” He linked their elbows, turning her around and towing her down the corridor while Celeste’s breathing spiralled. “There’s no need to be scared. We’re just going to have fun.” He stroked her arm, sending a shudder of fear through her whole body. After the strong press of his compulsion, her nerves felt overwrought.

  She couldn’t find a way out. She couldn’t think of a way to escape. If she tried, they’d just compel her until she obeyed them—and eventually, it would crack through her charm and she’d be truly helpless.

  No, it was better to play along. If she played along, if she chose to do what they commanded, it was consensual. She told herself that over and over while Jay stalked down the corridor like an angry force of nature and pulled open the door opposite hers.

  While Celeste panicked, Reyner gave her a dazzling smile and led her inside. The click of the door shutting was almost as loud as her heartbeat.

  But not as loud as the lock he turned, sealing her inside.

  Lured

  Celeste was as tense as an iron rod, leaning back against the plump cushions of Reyner’s bed—or Jay’s bed, she honestly wasn’t sure whose room it was—because Reyner had told her to relax and she had to seem compelled. While she sat there, shaking, desperately trying to think of a way out and coming up blank, Jay and Reyner moved around the bedroom, getting ready for bed.

  It seemed, at least to Celeste, that they weren’t planning on forcing her to have sex with them. They were exchanging jeans and shirts for pyjamas—or in Jay’s case for a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a bare chest, most of his light brown skin covered in sparse muscle, scars, and black tattoos. Sharp thorns, knives, lush blooms, and foliage were inked onto his chest and shoulders, a portrait of a vintage-looking woman on his bicep.

  Jay gave her a cursory glance, either disdain or disapproval in his frown, and got into bed on her left. Reyner shook out his hair, discarding the band on the dressing table, and gave her a grin as he prowled to the bed, his golden hair loose and wavy around his face.

  “Didn’t I tell you to relax?” he asked, bounding onto the bed on her other side, much closer to her than Jay was. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, we’re not gonna hurt you.” He stroked her shoulder and down her arm, his compulsion brushing up against her like a cat arching its back—soft, warm, and surprising. Her skin still pricked but it was less painful and more stimulating. It wanted her to give in, and her eyes slid shut for a second before she forced them open again.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, her voice grating and raspy.

  Reyner caught her hand and stroked her knuckles with his thumb, warmth and tingles moving out from that spot. “Stop shaking.”

  But that was impossible. “I can’t,” she breathed, hoping he couldn’t sense her truth like Konstantin could. He’d said most sirens couldn’t, so that was a minor comfort. From what she could sense, Reyner didn’t have anything close to Konstantin’s forceful power. But he was still a thousand times more powerful than Celeste. She’d never realised how weak humans were before, how weak she was. Her heart sprinted in her chest, her shaking only getting worse.

  “Look at me,” Jay said, and Celeste found her head turning automatically at his soft, iron command. At once gentle and demanding. She shuddered as their eyes met, her stomach flipping at the dark, intense look in his eyes. Something small and primal and human in her screamed that he was a predator and she needed to run.

  But Jay didn’t know she was prey; she had to pretend she was as much a predator as they were. Well, as much as a lesser siren could be.

  Jay didn’t say anything else, didn’t issue another command, just ensnared her gaze. However he did it ... she stopped shaking, tension slowly—reluctantly—seeping from her bones and her muscles going lax until she could pull in a full breath. Like out in the hallway, it felt like a blanket wrapped around her, the pressure reassuring, lulling her into a sense of safety.

  “Better?” he asked, his rich voice still soft and harsh, somehow at the same time. His dark eyes were the same, intense and gentle at once.

  “Better,” she agreed. She was fluid and calm, and she might have been made that way to make her easier for them to ... to play with, but it would make the situation more bearable for her, too, if she wasn’t doing it with a knot in her chest.

  And it was fine, she was allowing it to happen. It wasn’t compulsion; she wouldn’t allow it to be. This was a choice. She’d chosen to follow them, to let them think she was compelled. To keep her cover.

  It sounded like a weak defense even to her ears but she clung to it anyway.

  “Good,” Jay muttered, and turned her back to Reyner as if he had no more interest in her, but the comforting blanket of his lure clung to her. Celeste couldn’t be sure if he’d done that for Reyner or her...

  Either he was a complete bastard and complicit in whatever Reyner planned, or he was trying to minimise her suffering.

  Reyner gave her a wide, beatific grin when she hesitantly met his eyes, and before she could figure out how to react, what to do with her body, he closed the bit of distance between them and kissed her. It wasn’t forceful, but that didn’t make it any less forced. Celeste recoiled on instinct, an automatic response she couldn’t shut down, but his long fingers slid into her hair and held her still as he deepened the kiss with a groan, forcing her lips apart with his rigid tongue.

  Celeste let him, but she refused to be a willing participant. Not that it seemed to deter him; he drew back after an endless moment with a smile, his dark navy eyes alight with affection and lust. He was attractive, Celeste couldn’t deny that, but there was something corrupt in him, something that made him think it was okay to compel someone into his bed. This wasn’t normal, was far from it. For a human, at least. As far as Celeste knew, this might have been normal for sirens. She’d heard stories of lesser sirens being compelled, being made to do hideous things, but she’d assumed those were rare cases. Maybe this was an everyday thing.

  Maybe all lesser sirens just accepted that they’d be lured into the beds of others.

  Reyner’s lips drifted over her jaw and down her throat, pausing to drag his tongue over her pulse until her heartbeat jolted, and then inching down the neckline of her vest so he could suck at her collarbone. When her breath caught, it was real. Not compelled. But Celeste ignored it. Ignored the way heat spread from that point of contact an
d fizzled through the rest of her body.

  You like it, that dark, repressed voice inside her hissed. You can’t deny it; your body betrays you.

  “How rude of us not to help you get dressed for bed,” Reyner murmured against her chest, his hands flattening against her ribs as she shut out that voice. It was wrong. Wrong.

  Celeste shuddered. “I’ll sleep like this,” she breathed, not daring to look down at him, her eyes fixed on the window beside the bed and never straying. But that only made her more conscious of his body pressing against hers, more jumpy as she tried to anticipate where he’d touch her next.

  “The girl’s terrified, Reyner,” Jay sighed, heavy with disappointment. Or disapproval—it was hard to tell. “She’ll be no fun.”

  “She’s just conservative,” Reyner replied, pushing up until he was sitting over her, his palm sweeping up her chest and squeezing her breast. “She’s holding something back, I can sense it. I think she’s a dirty little slut deep down. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” His eyes snagged Celeste’s and she inhaled sharply, cold trickling down her spine as needles of compulsion scraped her skin. “Tell me that’s right.”

  A command. If she refused... “That’s right,” she whispered.

  Reyner beamed, a softness to him. Did he really not realise how fucked up all this was? Had he been doing it for so long that it was normal? Or was it the entitled siren in him that made him think this was okay? “Let’s get you dressed for bed, Aloisia.”

  She wasn’t sure what to do; she started to get out of bed but he pressed her back into the mattress with a hand flat to her chest.

  “I’ll help, don’t you worry. You just lay there, gorgeous. Relax.”

  Again, that sense of his magic brushing up against her, feline and warm. But she couldn’t relax. Not even a fraction. In fact, the lazy calm Jay had instilled in her burned away as Reyner unfastened the button on her jeans and pulled down the zip, the sound violently loud and making her flinch. She jumped again as a gentle hand ran down the back of her head, warmth spilling through her chest and wrapping around her, and she relaxed with a sigh, her eyes suddenly heavy.

  Jay, she knew. But could he compel her without words?

  Celeste swallowed, a hitch in her breath. Had she obeyed each one of his silent commands? Had the charm around her neck done anything to stop it? And more worrying; would the two of them recognise the charm when she changed clothes?

  “I can do it,” she breathed, panicking and reaching for her jeans as Reyner hooked his fingers into her waistband, his skin shockingly hot against hers.

  “Ah ah ah,” Reyner chided, pushing her hands away. “I want to do it. What knickers does a girl like you wear, hmm? I’m interested.”

  Celeste’s eyes slid shut, horror and fear like a deadly cocktail inside her. Her jeans were tugged over her ass and down her legs, and she realised with sinking dread that Reyner wasn’t planning on putting her in pyjamas at all. When he said dressing her for bed, he meant naked.

  Konstantin had made her orgasm in public, had scared her and taken advantage of her and yet ... and yet here, with Reyner, she felt more like a plaything than she had all night. She felt like a doll; motionless and pliant, completely at their mercy.

  And her pussy throbbed.

  Sick, twisted girl. You’re getting off on the loss of control.

  No. She hated it, hated everything about this situation. But ... it aroused her. A lot. If there hadn’t been the ever-present fear of discovery, she might have taken advantage of the situation and enjoyed it, too, but she was too scared they’d realise she was human.

  Soft hands ran from her ankles up to her thighs and Celeste jolted in panic, her eyes screwed shut. But Jay stroked down her hair, and again she went limp with a sigh. It felt good. As much as she was disgusted by her reaction to his lure, it felt good.

  Reyner brushed the edge of her underwear. “Black cotton. A little disappointing, I have to admit.”

  Jay snorted softly. “Black cotton’s exactly what you wear, you fucking hypocrite.”

  “Rude,” Reyner threw back, his hands continuing their exploration of her body and ducking beneath her shirt. Celeste made a sound, her fear vibrating in her until she was close to shaking uncontrollably. His palms flattened to her stomach, then moved up, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts through her thin bra.

  “Lean up, gorgeous,” Reyner said, a smile in his voice, and Celeste’s bones groaned at the weight of his command, heat and prickling moving to her lower back, her biceps—the muscles she’d need to obey him.

  She lifted slightly off the bed and told herself it was so she seemed responsive and not because Jay’s lure made her docile and eager to please. No matter how much she fought to stay still, her hands started shaking as her shirt was stripped off, along with her bra. But Reyner didn’t comment on the charm around her throat, just nudged it aside so his hands could cover her breasts.

  And Celeste let out a long, long breath. Maybe ... maybe this wouldn’t end in her complete and true devastation. Maybe it’d just be this minor one, this pretending to be compelled while in reality she was complicit.

  “Open your eyes,” Reyner said, flicking her nipples with his thumbs and shooting bolts of sensation to her clit. “Let me see those beautiful eyes.”

  Celeste swallowed and peeled her eyelids apart, bracing herself for the sight of Reyner above her. He smiled brightly as their eyes met, his golden hair hanging around his face and dimples appearing in his cheeks.

  “There you are,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss her, tweaking her nipples and taking advantage of her gasp of surprise to plunge into her mouth with his tongue. Jay stroked her head at the same time and Celeste melted into the sensations with a groan, Reyner’s tongue teasing the roof of her mouth before he sucked her tongue and coaxed another moan from her. Her pussy throbbed.

  It’s not me, she whispered to herself, it’s not real.

  But it was.

  Jay’s hand left her hair and Celeste tore away from Reyner, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her. Or as if a soothing, relaxing compulsion had been torn away.

  “I’m not doing this,” Jay snarled, taking angry steps across the room. Reyner dragged his mouth from Celeste, sitting back to watch him with a frown.

  “Doing what?”

  Jay threw a hand towards Celeste, his jaw clenched and a muscle flickering in his cheek. His dark eyes flashed with violence and rage.

  “Do you have any idea how much magic it took to get her calm enough to allow you to kiss her? A lot, Reyner,” he snarled, his teeth bared. Celeste stared in surprise as his dark eyes began to glow, a soft green light surrounding them and his body trembling. “A disgusting amount of power.”

  Reyner sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant into the cushions beside Celeste. “We’ve been doing this for years, Jay. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is I’m older and fucking wiser, and you should be too.” He was shaking so hard his pyjama pants shuddered, and Celeste gasped as grey-green scales rippled down his shoulders and chest. Jay’s eyes met hers at the sound and he growled, his teeth clenched. “I’m not gonna shift here, don’t worry.”

  Reyner rolled his eyes. “Stop being difficult, Jay, it’s just sex.”

  “It’s manipulation,” Jay snarled, and turned suddenly, his fist reared back. He slammed it into the wall beside the door, leaving a considerable dent, and Celeste scrambled out of bed, putting herself in the corner beside the window as far away from him and Reyner as possible. Her hindbrain screamed that he would kill her. She needed to run as far and fast as her legs could carry her. But he stood by the door. She was trapped.

  “Oh, great,” Reyner said moodily, a scowl on his face. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  “Get out,” Jay ground out, twisting the lock on the door and tearing it open, pinning Celeste with a look. “I’ll take you to your room. Get your clothes.”

  Shaking, paralys
ed, Celeste just stared. She could climb out the window—and then what? Fall to her death? They were on the third floor. She swallowed hard, struggling for breath.

  Reyner came toward her, a consoling look on his face and his compulsion brushing up against her, but she darted out of reach.

  “Don’t touch me,” she gasped. The room spun and her lungs locked up tight, refusing to let any breath in. She didn’t care that she was exposed and naked; mortification wouldn’t form, her body too focussed on blind terror.

  Reyner and Jay exchanged a significant look and Celeste’s stomach dropped. She’d fucked up, hadn’t she? She’d slipped and shown them that she was resistant to compulsion.

  But Jay took a long breath, seeming to compose himself, and his scales faded back into scarred, tattooed skin. “Reyner, back off, give her space.”

  Celeste still couldn’t breathe even when Reyner moved away, but Jay came closer and it got worse. A sense of darkness and violence hung over him, a whimper slipping from Celeste even as she tried to be still, small, silent, but when he touched her cheek, his fingers were soft, careful. And he didn’t try to compel her, not once.

  “Come on, love, I’ll take you to your room. No one’s going to hurt you or compel you.” He shot a dark look at Reyner. “We didn’t realise you’d react so badly.”

  “I’m sorry,” Celeste gasped, hoping she could salvage this somehow. But they were talking about returning her to her room, not outing her as a human in disguise ... so maybe she hadn’t ruined it completely.

  “Nothing to apologise for,” Jay replied, wrapping his big hand around hers and towing her out of the room, stopping only to grab her clothes and let Celeste pull them on with shaking hands.

  True to his word, he escorted her across the hallway to her room, and stayed until she climbed shakily into bed, pulling the covers over herself and not caring that she was in her jeans. Her limbs were as weak as jelly, her chest compressed by a vice. She could still feel the prickling echoes of Reyner’s magic, as if the compulsion left a residue.

 

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