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The Mafia Devil's Obsession - Chapter 39


Chapter 39


Aiden

Julian had used up all his chances with me the moment he touched her.

The public humiliation at the masquerade ball, I had let it go for her. Because I asked for it, but that mercy was dead now.

I was stripped of my shirt, my arms spread wide, wrists chained to iron hooks bolted into stone. 

The head enforcer stepped behind me, muttering, "Excuse me."

The whip hissed through the air, the first lash sliding across my back. The pain followed immediately, sharp enough to jolt through my spine.

I didn't scream my teeth, clenching so tight, I feared it might crack.

The second lash followed quickly, and so did the third with no time to prepare for the next.

My nails dug into my palms.

Pathetic.

I was getting whipped like a dog and for a woman. Was she even worth it?

I stared at the wall.

She must have woken up by now.

I chuckled. I bet she was happy I was gone. Probably wished I'd died.

But this won't kill me. I had survived worse.

The tenth lash tore through my skin, and my head jerked slightly. My breathing came ragged, but I stayed on my feet.

I heard the scraping of the chair against the floor, then footsteps.

I turned to my side, locking eyes with Julian, who was leaving.

"Let's see how long it will take to break you," he muttered.

***************************************************

The basement floor was cold against my knees. John's belt met my back again, and I choked on a scream.

He crouched beside me, grabbing my chin and forcing my face up. His breath reeked of whiskey. I always tried to avoid him when he drank. But somehow, he still found a reason to bring me down here. And today he...

"Are you crying?" He slurred.

I blinked my tears back, shaking my head, "No, sir."

He wiped one away with his thumb.

"Don't worry," he smiled creepily. "It's your first time. You'll get better at it with time."

I shuddered. 

We were going to do it again.

His hand trailed down my back, making my skin crawl. "When we're done with your mouth..." he licked his lips. 

My nails dug into my thighs.

His phone rang, and he stopped.

He stood cursing to answer it.

"No food for you today," He spat as he walked out.

When the door slammed, I let the sobs fall quietly, my whole body aching from where he'd hit me.

I forced myself up, reaching for my clothes, when I heard light footsteps. 

Liam.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned.

I forced a smile, wiping my face. "Yes."

"Did Father hit you again?" He asked, wide-eyed, as if he couldn't see the state of my body.

God, I wanted to hit him.

"Did it hurt?" He pestered.

"No. Just leave me alone," I yelled, biting back a wince as pain shot through me.

He glanced over his shoulder, then reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple. My stomach growled in response.

"I won't tell Father." He held it out.

I snatched it, biting into it fast.

Liam giggled proudly. And I felt guilty for how I treated him earlier.

"What are you doing there?" Mother's voice startled me.

I slipped the apple behind my back.

"I told you not to go to the basement!" She snapped, yanking Liam by the arm.

"Mother," I muttered.

She flinched and left hurriedly.

The apple turned sour in my mouth. I should be used to it but it still fucking hurt.

"Michael took my apple," I heard Liam cry to John as I climbed out of the basement.

My heart dropped.

John turned to me, his nose flaring.

"I—"

He was on me before I could explain. A blow to my stomach that knocked me down, and then he began stomping on me.

I curled into myself, trying to block the next hit, but he was stronger.

Only if I were stronger. 

I saw Liam smiling.

Why? Why did he do that?

Mother stood there, watching, her face empty.

I was their son too, wasn't I? Then why did they treat me like I was a stranger?

Then I heard Leah's voice.

I was standing now, in a room I didn't recognise. She was lying on the bed, smiling not at me but Liam.

She wrapped her legs around him, her body arching under him as she moaned his name.

No.

He gripped her hips and drove into her again while he watched me with a taunting smile. 
She cried out, "I love you."

No.

That look in her eyes was mine. She wasn't supposed to look at anyone else like that. 

"Stay away from her," I screamed, but they ignored me.

I tried to move, but my legs wouldn't move.

Suddenly, I was in front of a glass wall and she stood on the other side.

"Leah!" I called.

She looked at me, confused, then turned away as Liam and mother stepped beside her. Those two only ever had eyes for him.

I pounded on the glass, screaming, but I couldn't hear myself. I struggled to breathe, collapsing to the floor as I watched her walk away until she disappeared.

A tap on my shoulder ripped me out of the nightmare.

I lunged up, grabbed the body in front of me, and slammed it against the wall, my hand locking around a throat.

"Hey! It's me... Freya! Stop!" She gasped, struggling.

Her face blurred in the dark. But I recognised her voice.

My grip loosened, and I staggered back chest heaving. I was covered in cold sweat.

"You almost fucking killed me," she yelled, still catching her breath.

"Don't fucking touch me when I'm sleeping," I warned, sitting back down the pain from the fresh lashes starting to sting.

She flashed a light on my back and said, "It's only the fourth day, and it looks like this."

"Get out."

"Leah's fine," she said. "I stopped by your place and—"

I sprang up, grabbing her by the throat again.

"What the fuck were you doing in my house?"

"I wanted to meet her and apologise," she choked out.

"After what you did?"

"I didn't know Julian would be there!"

I laughed bitterly. "You didn't know?"

I let her go.

"Don't go near her again. I won't say it again."

She moved to the door and stopped.

"I told her about your punishment," she said. "She didn't care. Didn't give a single fuck. And here you are, looking pathetic over a woman."

Of course, she didn't care. I knew that but somehow it fucking hurt.

**************************************

The final Lash tore across my back. I clenched my jaw, my head dropping forward. 

A guard stepped forward and unchained my wrists.

I straightened slowly, turning to face the table. Julian had a scowl on his face.

"You're dismissed," he snapped.

I gave a slight bow, then walked away. Outside, the cold air hit my back like knives. I ran a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, pushing the damp strands out of my face. 

"Fuck," I muttered. 

How am I supposed to get back?

"I didn't think you'd get through that without making a sound," Raymond's voice came from behind me.

I turned. "Good evening, sir," I said.

He smiled. "That will leave a scar," he said glancing at my back.

"It wouldn't be the first."

"Need a ride?"

"Yeah."

Inside his car, he offered me a cigar and we smoked in silence as the car drove.

Everything I'd built, gone in a day. Temporarily but gone.

Raymond eyed me. "What are you going to do now?"

"Get back what was taken from me."

"Good," he said,  smirking. "And while you're at it, try being a little greedy."

I smirked back. "I'll pay you a visit later."

He chuckled, tapping ash out the window. "Looking forward to it."

"Welcome back, boss," a few of my men who stood guarding the door chorused. 

I gave them a weak smile as I kept walking.

"Man, you look terrible," Storm said when he saw me.

I chuckled, slapping his shoulder lightly as I passed. I had no strength in me to bicker with him.

"You need to get that treated."

I stopped in front of my room, my hand hovering over the knob.

"She tried not to show it, but she was worried."

"Was she now."

I let go of the handlr and had barely taken two steps when the door creaked open.

"You bastard."

I turned quickly.

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, emerald eyes, burning with anger. She stormed toward me and slammed her fist into my chest. 

I winced, exaggerating the pain.

She muttered again, voice trembling. "You fucking bastard."

There was something else in her eyes, not just anger, relief. She was glad I was back.

And in that moment, I understood what it really meant to have someone waiting at home for you.

It made my heart beat... wrong.

I reached out and cradled her face, feeling the warmth of her skin as I backed her into the wall, my hands threading through her hair and fingers gripping a little too tightly.

I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her like she was the only breath left in the world. She gasped when her back hit the wall, her hands coming up to mine, but not to stop me.

Her mouth parted against mine, letting me in with a low, desperate moan, that made my cock twitch. I pressed into her, making her feel how badly I wanted her too.

The sound she made when I rolled my hips into hers undid me.

Yes. She was worth every whip I received.










Chapter 40  


Leah

I had told myself several times that I would pretend like I didn't care when he came back. 

I would act indifferent, like I hadn't spent every day since he left waiting. When he came back, I had waited behind the door for him, watched the door knob turn, but he didn't come in and I ended up opening it myself.

I regret it now. What if he thought I was desperate?

I stole a glance at him where he sat on the sofa, while Storm cleaned his back. He hadn't made a sound, and he didn't look like he was in pain. Or maybe he was just good at hiding it.

Earlier, when I caught a glimpse of the red lashes crisscrossing his skin, a cold shiver had climbed up my legs. I could almost hear the whip landing on his back.

He endured this for seven days?

When Freya told me about his punishment, I hadn't imagined anything close to this.

A sick ache formed in my chest. He got hit because of me.

No. No. No.

This was his fault. Yes, everything was. If he hadn't taken me there in the first place, none of this would've happened.

This was the least he could do after putting me in danger.

He looked up suddenly, catching my stare, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he straightened.

"Don't worry. I am fine," he said.

I scoffed, turning my head. "Why the fuck would I be?"

He chuckled under his breathe. "Right."

He wasn't even trying to hide that he didn't believe me. I turned to snap at him, but his smile only deepened.

My heart stuttered as my eyes dropped to his lips, and heat rushed through me, my lips tingling from the memory of the kiss earlier.

It was different. He held me like I was something he didn't want to let go of, breathed me in, like he needed me. And for one terrifying moment, I had forgotten how much I was supposed to hate him.

You fool. You fucking fool.

Suddenly,  Freya's question echoed in my mind.

"Do you love him?"

I had laughed, bitterly.

Why would I fall in love with the man who wanted to break me?

She looked at me for a long moment, then said, "Then why are you refusing my help? You don't seriously plan to stay here with him for the rest of your life, do you?"

"Why would I trust the same person who led me into a trap?"

She had a lot of nerve showing up after what she did. And when I slapped her, she went all 'I deserved that' bullshit.

Fuck her and her apology. 

It would have turned out worse if Aiden didn't show up.

"I was forced to do it," she replied quietly.

Even if she had no choice. Was I supposed to just let it go? And for all I know, this might be another setup. Besides, Aiden promised to let me go after three months.

As if reading my thoughts, she said, "Do you really think he will let you go?"

I flinched.

She stepped closer. "Do you think he broke the rules for you, nearly killing the Don, an offence punishable by death, just because you are another body to fuck and toss aside?"

Her voice dropped. "He is obsessed, Leah. You know that. And with the intensity of that obsession... I doubt he will ever let you go."

He has to. He will. That was the only hope I clung to.

"What is in it for you?"

There was no way she was just trying to help a poor kidnapped woman. 

She bit her lip, looking away. "Because helping you is helping me."

She pulled the zipper of her dress down. The fabric slipping off her body and I gasped.

They were scars littered across her back. Many of them, some faded, others fresh like they were inflicted recently.

I was horrified.

"My brother—" she whispered with a faint smile. "— tends to take out his anger on me."

I didn't know what to say.

She blinked back tears. "Father asked Aiden to protect me, but when I asked for his help he said he couldn't break the rules for me."

She looked up at me, heartbroken.

"But he broke them for you."

"You don't know how vulnerable you've made him," she chuckled, picking up her dress. "With what he did at the wedding, he announced to everyone that he has a weakness."

She smirked.

"And you know what a cornered man does to his enemy's weaknesses."

Strom left after wrapping the bandage around Aiden's back. 

Aiden stood, eyes locking on me. When he took a step forward, my heart pounded. I scooted back, the mattress dipping under my palms. He moved toward the bed and climbed onto it slowly, watching me, like a predator toying with prey. Giving me time to run, knowing there was nowhere to go.

My back hit the headboard, my breath catching.

He crawled closer and my heart thundered in my ears as I held his gaze, waiting for him... to touch me.

His fingers brushed over my ankles, then guided slowly along my calves, over my knees, stopping at my thighs. He gripped them, hard, and pulled me down toward him.

I gasped, clenching the sheets as He stretched over me. He didn't touch me, just hovered close enough that I felt his warmth.

He whispered, "I was worried."

Usually, I would roll my eyes and toss back something cold and biting in that moment. But the look in his eyes made it hard to form any words.

He looked like someone who had imagined losing me, who had feared it, who didn't know how to say it. But I could tell saying those three words had cost him something.

He brushed my hair side as he traced the bandage around my head.

"It doesn't hurt," I whispered, trying to reassure him.

He muttered, "But it will leave a scar."

I chuckled. "Not like your back. At least mine will be hidden under my hair."

His jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists at my sides.

"I couldn't kill him," he said through gritted teeth. 

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.

"I promised you I would. And I didn't."

My heart raced. I didn't know what rattled me more, the fact that he wanted to kill someone for me or that I found that hot.

Hot?

The hell, Leah?

"Well... it's not like you have the power to kill your boss."

I didn't mean to provoke him, but something in that sentence made him snap.

His body stiffened, a vein throbbing hard in his neck before his hand slammed against the headboard with a low crack that made me flinch.

His eyes were wild. "Power," he muttered. 

I didn't even realise I was reaching for him until my hand was already on his cheek. He shivered under my touch, the look in his eyes fading then he closed them and leaned into my palm.

There was silence between us. Only the sound of our breathing and my racing heart.

He opened his eyes again, and as if making a decision, he said, "I will take that power."

I shuddered, understanding what he meant.

His mouth moved over mine, tasting, teasing slowly and deeply. His hand trailed over my skin and my fingers tangled in his hair as I lifted my hips, aching for friction.

But he pulled back, his thumb brushing over my lips. 

He let out a breathless chuckle. "You look disappointed."

"I'm not," I replied, too quickly.

He chuckled again.

"I want to fuck you so bad it's driving me insane, Leah," he murmured against my cheek, voice ragged as he pressed into me.

Then fuck me you bastard.

"But I'm exhausted. I don't trust myself to last more than three strokes before I pass out on top of you."

My cheeks burned.

"I want to take my time ruining you, covering every inch of your body with my mouth."

My core ached violently, and I could feel the wetness slipping down.

God, I hated how much I craved his touch.

He kissed my forehead.

I stammered, pushing against his chest, "Is not like I wanted you to touch me or anything."

He grinned, not buying it. His hand slid between my thighs, fingers dragging up with maddening patience.

"Then why are you dripping wet, doll?"

My breath hitched as he grazed my swollen clit. I whimpered when he rubbed in slow circles, grabbing his wrist and almost pushing it away.

He growled, frustrated. "Fuck, I want to taste you. But I'll do a lazy work and I know how insatiable you are."

"I'm not," my cheeks burned hot.

He gave me that same wicked grin. "Sure." His tone dripped with mockery.

Then he rolled off me and collapsed onto the bed, face down.

"I am really not." 

"Okay."

Bastard.

He tugged me closer beside him, guiding my hand to his face, holding it there. Then he moved it into his hair, running it down the length of his head.

He let out a soft breath and whispered. "Don't let go."











Chapter 41  

Leah

I didn't dare move. 

I kept my eyes shut tight, knowing he was awake and watching me. 

The warmth from his body pressed against my side, my cheek resting on his chest and my hand lying across his stomach.

When did I move that close?

I felt his fingers brush my hair from my face, the tips making goosebumps spread along my arms.

My heart was pounding so loud I bet he could hear it.

He tilted my face up, and I had no choice but to open my eyes. And there they were, those black hungry eyes.

"Good morning," he said, voice a deep lazy rumble.

My heart skipped. 

I shifted, trying to roll away, needing space to think cause it was impossible with how close we were. But he gripped my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"Where do you think you're going, doll? After clinging to me all night?" He murmured, against my ear, the tip of his nose brushing the side of my neck. 

I shivered.

"I wasn't —" I started, but he cut me off with a sudden bite to my cheek, then a playful nip at the tip of my nose.

"You're clingy when you're asleep, and even more so after I fuck you," he said grinning.

I didn't get a chance to respond when he pressed his mouth on mine. His hand slipped under the shirt, trailing up my thigh slowly.

"I'm done resting," he whispered against my skin, mouth moving down my jaw, grazing my neck.

My breath hitched as I tilted my head without thinking, giving him more space. 

"I'm keeping you in bed all day."

I let out a soft moan as his fingers found the slick heat between my thighs. I jerked, thighs clenching around his hand.

He groaned into my neck. "Your pussy's already begging to be fucked."

"You missed me, didn't you?"

"No," I breathed, hips rocking his fingers.

He chuckled darkly. "I'll fuck the truth out of you then."

He sat up, pulling me up by the hem of the shirt. My heart punded as I raised my arms, letting him peel it off me.

His eyes roamed my body like it was the first time his gaze darkened as he bit his lip.

"Why do you look at me like that?" I asked. "Even though you've seen me... so many times."

He cupped my face, carrassing my cheek.

"Because I can never get enough of you, doll," he said quietly. "I'll never get tired of wanting to fuck you."

My heart ached.

I wanted to ask, what about our deal? I wanted to remind him this wasn't supposed to feel like this. 

He took my hand, gently guiding it up to his face, tracing the scar on his face using my finger. Then he brought my hand to his mouth, brushing them over his lips before sucking one finger slowly, eyes locked on mine.

My breath caught.

I tried to pull away, but he didn't let me. Then he moved my hand again, over his throat, his chest, every scar, all the way to the deep one near his side. The one I gave him. He stopped there, pressing my palm to it.

"You've marked me, doll." His voice was gentle, but there was darkness curled beneath every word. "I carry you under my skin now. How do you suggest I mark you in return? It's only fair that I make it permanent like mine."

I didn't answer and he didn't wait for one.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. He caught my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before sucking it into his mouth.

I fisted the sheets, whimpering.

He kissed me again, slower, and I let him push me back onto the bed. His lips dragged down, over my throat, along my collarbone, stopping at the swell of my breast.

He wasn't rushing, his lips moving like they were trying to memorise every inch of my body.

And I hated how it made me feel.

"Aiden—" I whispered, meaning to tell him I hated how gentle he was being. But the words caught the moment his lips brushed over my nipple.

I gasped, covering my mouth, but the moan still escaped.

Heat crawled up my spine as he sucked on it, then released it with a wet pop that made my breath stutter. He gave the same attention to the other, his tongue teasing, teeth nibbling, until I was writhing under him.

"Your tattoos are pretty," he said, kissing lower, tongue flicking over the two butterflies inked along my lower belly.

"You should get another one."

His hand slipped behind me, tracing the small mole just above my ass.

"Right here," he said, his voice filled with dark intent. "Where only I get to see."

His head dipped between my thighs, parting them possessively.

"What do you think about getting my name inked there?"

His mouth was on my clit and every thought scattered.

My body jolted at the first stroke of his tongue.

"Oh God," I cried, as he licked my clit slowly, then faster.

I bit my fist, trying to hold back the filth falling from my lips. 

When he touched me, I became someone else. Someone I was afraid I'd never come back from.

He growled against me, the vibration making me shudder. "Don't hold back. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

My back arched, legs shaking.

"Aiden..." I moaned, heat coiling tight in my stomach.

He groaned at the sound of his name on my lips, and that did it. I shattered, coming hard against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair as my body bucked under him.

But he didn't stop. Even when I was trembling, breathless, he kept going. His tongue lapped all my juices, driving me toward another high that hit harder. I cried out again, legs shaking violently as I came.

I was barely holding on when he finally moved over me, his body pressing down on me. My pussy ached, quivering from the aftermath.

He kissed me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. 

He whispered against my mouth, "Now I will fuck you like I promised."

I cried out as he entered me, slowly, stretching me. My head fell back, eyes rolling up as a dizzy pleasure slammed into me.

"Fuck," he groaned, hips pressing deeper, grinding into me. "You feel like home, Leah."

He pulled back, then slammed into me again.

My hands flew to his back nails digging into his skin.

I whimpered, cried and screamed.

He kissed me through it, hand wrapping around my thigh, pulling my legs up higher so he could thrust deeper. And when I came again, clenching around him like he was the only thing holding me together, I realised something terrifying.

I didn't want him to stop.


He meant it when he said he was keeping me in bed all day.

I lost count of how many times I came. He made me scream until my throat was raw and until I was a trembling mess. And took me in every position. 

Every time he came, it wasn't over. He used his mouth, his fingers. And when I thought I could finally rest, he was hard again. The sheet was a mess. We were sweaty and sticky.  I was a wreck, and yet he wanted more.

I was sitting on his thighs now, my back against his chest, facing the mirror legs spread wide with his fingers deep inside me.

I tried to pull away from him, but he held me there, prying my legs back open when I tried to close them.

"Look," he murmured in my ear. "You need to see what you look like when I touch you. When I am inside you."

I lifted my eyes to the mirror.

My lips were swollen, hair damp and sticking to my face, pupils wide with lust. That wasn't me. It was a stranger consumed by lust and she was begging to be fucked again.

I tried to look away, and he gripped my neck forcing my face back.

"See how your pussy's clenching around my fingers?"He roared, pushing deeper. "So fucking greedy."

He spread them inside me, pressing down right on the spot that made my whole body seize. I cried out, limbs trashing, grabbing his hand.

"You've made a mess of the sheets again, Leah," he said, kissing my shoulder.

I pulled his head closer, kissing him.

This is just for the deal. I'm just doing my part.

Bloody, fucking Liar.

"You think I could ever let you go, when you look at me like this?"

He added a third finger, and another orgasm ripped through me.

"No man will ever satisfy you the way I do," he muttered. "No one will touch you like this again."

"I'm not going to let you go. Ever."

I moaned, too far gone to process what he said.

"You will stay here. Right where you belong. You're okay with that, right?"

"Yes," I gasped as I rode through another orgasm.

"That's a deal," he smirked, pulling me against him as I collapsed on his chest.

He kissed my forehead.

"Good girl."

"Mmm..." I exhaled, my eyes sliding shut.










Chapter 42  

Leah

My whole body ached. Even the smallest movement made me wince.

He went all out last night. Was he trying to make up for the days he wasn't around?

That sex crazed demon.

My gaze drifted to the mirror across the room, and I turned away instantly. That damn mirror. My checks burned from the shame of a memory I wished I could erase from my mind.

I buried my face in the pillow just as the bathroom door creaked open. 

I peeked out from the pillow and saw Aiden stepping out with a towel wrapped low around his hips and water dripping from his hair.

He looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, I ached everywhere!

"Look who's awake, my insatiable queen." He teased.

I glared at him, cheeks burning hotter. 

"Don't call me that."

He chuckled, approaching the bed. "Yes, my insatiable queen."

He sat down beside me. I reached out and pinched his side, making him cry out dramatically.

"Bastard."

"How are you feeling?" He asked, brushing hair from my face.

"Like I got rammed by a car."

I eyed him and added, "Good to know you're just fine."

He leaned in, lips curving. "No. My back still hurts from your nails." He kissed my forehead softly, then the tip of my nose, then hovered at my mouth.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, his breath mingling with mine.

My heart pounded.

"I like waking up to your face," he added.

"I hate waking up to yours," I replied, turning away from him.

I hated it when he said things like that.

He brushed my hair aside, lips pressing against the side of my neck, trailing them along my shoulder blade. I shivered as he tugged the covers down, exposing my body to the cold air and his hungry eyes.

His damp hair left cold droplets on my back as he kissed his way down my spine. He paused at the mole above my ass. I fisted the pillow, holding my breath.

I jerked, a little, as his lips brushed the curve of my ass.

My face burned even hotter. "I'm sore, " I tried to stop him, though it came out more like a moan. 

"I'm not going to fuck you," he said, spreading my ass cheeks.

His mouth pressed kisses in between and I buried my face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds I made.

When his tongue dragged through the crease, licking a place no one had ever dared touch with their mouth, I trembled. He was always introducing new kinds of pleasure to my body, and my foolish body always gave in.

"No one's ever fucked you here?" He asked, his thumb circling the entrance.

"What? No," I whipped my head around to look at him, eyes wide. 

How much hotter could my cheek burn?

"Fuck, Leah..." he groaned, gaze hooded. "I'm going to be the first."

"No," I said quickly, trying to sit up. 

There was no way in hell I was having him ram my ass. Absolutely not.

A wicked grin spread across his face. "I'll be gentle."

"That look on your face tells me otherwise."

He suddenly bit my ass.

"Ouch!" I yelped, jerking, regretting it immediately I felt a sharp ache shoot through my wrecked body. "You bastard!"

Before I could spit out another word, he caught my mouth with his and swallowd my anger. And I hated how I let him. Even if it was for the deal, shouldn't there be boundaries? We seemed to be moving into forbidden territories.

His forehead pressed against mine, and our shallow breathes tangled. My heart kicked hard in my chest like it wanted out.

He touched my upper lip, my bottom lip, slowly, like he thought it would hurt me. Then he pried it open slightly.

My chest tightened.

Something had changed. It wasn't just in the way he kissed or touched me. It was subtle, but I felt it.

Whatever it was, it was wrong and not supposed to happen with him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, running his thumb along the curve of my lips. "So fucking beautiful."

My breath hitched. "What are you doing?" I asked quietly, eyes searching his face. "What are we doing?"

The second question was for me. 

His hand slid to the back of my neck, then under my head, cradling me as he kissed me again. 

I hated how alive it always made me feel. How his lips made me forget everything else. 

He guided me onto his thighs, making me straddle him. 

"What does it feel like?" He asked.

Something I'll regret later.

"I'm sore," I reminded him when I felt him hard under me.

"I know," he smiled, mouth brushing my chest.

Then he took my hand, guiding it under the towel that barely hung around his hips. 

"Touch me," he whispered. It was a plea and a command all at once.

When I looked down, the hairs on my body stood on end.

His eyes, those fucking eyes, that made me forget how to breath, stared up at me, completely wrecked. 

My fingers wrapped around his thick, veiny, warm length as he guided me, up and down. His head fell back, lips parting, chest heaving. Every fucking breath dragged through him like it hurt. His nails dug into my thighs.

What was it?

Was it the sound of my name falling from his lips? Or the look on his face as I watched, stunned by what my hands alone could do to him?

My heart hammered like I was doing something terribly, irreversibly wrong.

My other hand reached up to cover his eyes. If I didn't see him, maybe I could keep lying to myself about what we were doing.

But Aiden never let me hide. He always wanted me to watch. He kissed my palm, tongue licking it, before sucking my thumb into his mouth.

I whimpered when he bit down on it. "Don't fucking hide from me," he growled. 

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in close. He groaned my name again into my ear, "Leah..." as he came in my hand, on my stomach, his breath shuddering out of him.

A shiver ran down my spine.

The silence that followed was loud.

The longer you stay with him, the deeper you'll sink into his world. You'll end up getting consumed by his darkness.

They were Freya's last words before she walked away.

****************************

I blinked awake when I heard a broken sound.

Aiden lay beside me, his jaw locked tight, sweat beading his face. One of his fists gripped the sheets tightly.

"Don't..." he groaned again, painfully.

My breath caught.

Who did he see in his nightmares?

The ones he killed?

They say there's no peace for the wicked. Watching him now, I believed it.

His brow furrowed deeper, his face twisting in agony. He gripped the sheets tighter, whispering, "Please."

That desperate plea did something to my sick heart.

Yes, it was sick cause why would it ache watching him suffer. I understood my body betraying me, but my heart?

I brushed the damp hair from his forehead and pressed my palm gently to his face.

Maybe it was more than the ghost of his victim. Sometimes, he cried about his mother. He must have gone through a lot as a kid.

Not that I cared.

His face softened beneath my touch. The tension drained from his brow.

Startled by the shift in him and me, I started to pull away. But he caught my hand and held it in place.

His eyes opened.

They were red. 

Did he cry?

He was breathing hard, like he'd run a marathon.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Maybe a little concerned.

He didn't answer. He just moved closer, buried his face in the crook of my neck, arms wrapping tightly around me, like I was going to disappear anytime.

His body trembled and I could feel the pounding of his heartbeat, fast against me.

I unconsciously slid my fingers through his hair.

"Who do you see in your dreams?"

For a few seconds, there was silence, then, his voice cracked, "John. Liam. Mother—"

A pause.

"— and now you."

My hand stilled in his hair.

"What do I do to you?"

"I can't remember," he lied.

I didn't push. If he didn't want to talk about it, I would let him. I didn't want to care more than I already did.

Then, he said, almost inaudible that if I wasn't paying attention, I would have missed it. 

"Can't you love me?"

My heart stopped and my hands trembled in his hair.

He snored softly against my skin, drifting back to sleep like he didn't just drop a bomb.

I stared into the dark, his question echoing.

"No. I can't love you, Aiden."

I can't. 









Chapter 43  

Leah

I left the room before the sun came up, slipping into the kitchen with a lot on my mind.

I couldn't stay in that bed with him, not after the question he asked. And my stupid heart wouldn't stop beating hard just because of it.

Have you forgotten who he is? The reason you are here?

This isn't some romantic drama, and it wasn't some romantic vacation either.  He kidnapped you and right now you are fucking your way to freedom.

I gripped the glass tighter.

"Why aren't you coming back up?" I heard his voice.

He was standing in the doorway, watching me with those eyes that I had come to hate more than him.

For fuck's sake. I just need a moment to think without him pressing into every fucking corner of my mind.

"Godforbid a woman drinks water," I muttered, dropping the empty glass on the kitchen island.

"You've been gone for hours."

"Why? Can't sleep without me?"

He stepped closer, and I backed away, needing air, needing anything but his heat and scent.

We need to draw lines. I need to get back on track.

"Aiden..." I started, but I didn't get the rest out.

He was already kissing me, stealing the fucking air from my lungs. And I didn't push him away.

So much for drawing lines.

He carried me into the living room, setting me down on the sofa. Our clothes hit the floor. He touched me, drawing gasps and moans from me and pulling me deeper into the hole I had sworn minutes ago not to fall into.

He was the kind of man you knew would ruin you, and still, every twisted part of your begged to be ruined by him.

And when he had reduced me to nothing but a breathless, sweaty, aching flesh wrapped around him, he whispered it again. A ritual after sex.

"You're beautiful."

"Why?"

He kissed my shoulder, then rested his head there, arms locked tight around me.

"Because you're more beautiful when you're a mess."

I closed my eyes, letting myself sleep.

We never talked about his question that night.

I brushed it off as nonsense. Some half asleep mumbling, he didn't mean.

And we did what we always do, fucked. Just two bodies, lusting after each other. No meaning, no attachment.

***********************************

The smell of melted butter and vanilla filled the kitchen.

I sat on a stool, watching Aiden as he did his magic. Every time he flipped a pancake, his back muscles shifted under his skin. 

His long hair was a mess from sleep, falling into his face until he lazily pushed it back with one hand.

Fuck me. 

How was he this hot without even trying?

My eyes drifted to the white bandages on his back. They were thin spots of red bleeding through. My face flushed. 

I really should stop clawing at him like an animal during sex.

My gaze dipped lower, until it settled on the curve of his ass, barely covered by his black boxers.

Sin himself, standing barefoot in his kitchen, making breakfast.

He glanced over his shoulder, caught me staring, and wiggled his ass. "Like what you see?"

"Ew, No. Please don't." I looked away, horrified. "My eyes."

He barked out a laugh, head tipping back, and I couldn't help but join in.

He poured syrup over the stack of pancakes, then turned and set it in front of me.

"Aiden's special," he said wiggling his eyebrows like an idiot.

I rolled my eyes, but the second I took a bite, my mouth betrayed me.

I gave him a thumbs up as I chewed. "Is there anything you can't cook?"

He leaned a hip against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. "I wouldn't call this cooking," he said, then ran a finger under his nose with mock arrogance. "But you're right, there's nothing I can't cook."

"I'd give it... a seven out of ten," I said between bites. 

He gasped, placing a hand dramatically over his chest like I wounded him. "A seven?"

I laughed. "Your pancakes are child's play compared to my father's."

"He used to..." the words died on my tongue as my smile fell.

I looked down at the pancakes that suddenly lost its taste.

He used to cook for us with my mother watching, laughing at his boring jokes. I remembered saying I'd only marry a man who could cook. Because I wanted what my parents had. But even their marriage didn't last.

Aiden dragged a stool closer and sat on it. 

His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, collecting a streak of syrup. And without breaking eye contact, he brought it to his lips and licked it slowly.

"Why did you stop eating?" 

"I lost my appetite, thinking about all the the thing you took from me."

And still taking.

He chuckled, picking up the fork. He sliced into the pancake and held the piece out to me.

"Open your mouth."

I stared at it and then at him.

"You'll need strength to hate me after recalling all I took from you."

I opened my mouth and took a bite.

"Good girl," he smirked, shifting my hair to the back of my ear. "I'll make it taste better than his own next time."

That surprised me.

A soft, broken laugh slipped from my lips. "I'd love to see you try."

**********************************

My legs swung slightly from the bathroom counter, where Aiden dropped me. He reached up, fingers careful as he peeled away the bandage wrapped around my head.

"It left a scar," he said quietly, his jaw tightening as the bandage came free.

I turned toward the mirror behind me, lifting my hair to reveal the healing gash just above my temple.

"Yeah. It did."

I can't believe I will remember that fucker each time I see the scar.

When I turned back to Aiden, his jaw was locked, brows drawn in a deep frown. I reached up and pinched his cheeks gently, trying to break the tension.

"It's just a small scar," I assured.

"Even though," he muttered, catching my hands in his.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again."

My heart stuttered.

I hated how easily those words cracked me open.

"I know," I said, sliding down from the counter.

"Let me fix your hair," he offered, pulling out the black band holding up his own hair. The one he'd stolen from me in the elevator, the second time we met.

"You still have that?" I asked, surprised.

He smirked. "Well, someone said it was a gift..."

"That's not how I remember it."

He chuckled under his breath, gathering my hair slowly. His eyes darkened again when he caught sight of the mark. 

"Hey," I nudged him.

He sighed.

Then twisted my hair into a messy bun. When he was done, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

I placed my hands on his chest and pushed lightly.

"Sit."

His brow lifted.

"Sit your ass on the floor," I said, voice firm.

He obeyed, lowering himself to the floor. 

He leaned against the tub, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "You're being awfully proactive today, doll."

I straddle his thighs, fighting the urge to kick him square where the sun doesn't shine. His hands found my ass the moment I settled over his thighs, his lips moving to kiss me. I tugged his hair back hard, making it spill over the tub behind him. 

He winced, then grinned. "I like it when you pull my hair."

I shook my head, not surprised any more at his shamelessness.

"Stay still," I said. "Let me wash your hair."

He groaned, disappointed. "I got excited for nothing."

"Do you ever think about anything other than having your cock inside me?"

"Of course not," he smirked, tilting his head. "I also think about having my mouth all over your pussy."

I slapped a hand over his mouth, my cheeks burning. How does he say things like that with a straight face.

He licked my palm.

I let out a breath and forced a smile.

I soaked his hair with water, running my fingers through the long strands. He sighed, clossing his eyes.

"No one's ever washed my hair before," he murmured.

"Why would a grown ass man want someone else to wash his hair?"

He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through his chest. Surprisingly, his hands rested on my thighs without wandering.

Silence settled between us as I washed his hair.

"Stop watching my family," I broke the silence with a thought that had been eating me for days.

"I'm not going to try calling them again until our deal is off," I added. "So stop."

"Okay."

I stilled, watching his closed eyes.

I did have a feeling he would agree, but it was too easy.

"Really?"

He opened his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. "I'll give you everything you want, doll... except freedom."

My chest tightened.

"That's until our deal is off, right?"

He leaned in closer. "Cute."

Cute?

Later, after washing his hair, he carried me back to the bedroom.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, and I sat on the edge of the bed. 

His head rested between my thighs as I dried his hair with the dryer.

It should have been a sweet moment. But Aiden had a way of ruining things whenever he opened that gutter of a mouth.

"Sometimes I wonder," he started. "If things would've been different had we met under better circumstances."

My heart fluttered. I thought he meant before Liam. Before he kidnapped me.

But then he opened his mouth again, reminding me exactly who I was dealing with.

A psychopath.

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