Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,40

the question?

Would I leave him wanting?

“I would,” I grit out.

His hands cease their roaming the second he has his answer, and he laughs joylessly.

“Pity. I had wanted to be a generous lover, but, well, you push my limits.” His voice is sickly sweet as he murmurs the words. “Get on your knees.”

“Wh-what?”

“What part of that did you fail to understand?” he snaps, his tone turning from gentle to impatient in the space of a heartbeat.

He can’t do this.

Surely not?

He has never touched me. Not really. The only time he did, it was my own ruthless imagination in a nightmare of my own making.

I was shaking before, and now even his shoulders aren’t enough to keep me steady.

Baron tilts his head to the side, a gesture he’s somehow managed to condition me into thinking means something bad is coming.

My stomach twists.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say. The plea in my voice could not be any clearer.

But he just chuckles, his fingers in the back of my hair scratching my scalp affectionately, as if I’m just a dog to him. A little pet who’s about to be taught a new trick.

“Quite right, too,” he says. “Just kiss it for me. Like you’re terrified and curious, both at the same time. You’ll be grand.”

Terrified—that I can do, but there is nothing curious about me.

My mouth opens to plead with him again—words I’ve not even chosen yet—but his finger slides around quickly and presses down hard on my lips. “The man likes his teeth,” he whispers. “And you must learn to be careful with yours.”

I can almost hear his smirk through the damned mask.

Every ounce of strength I thought I had seeps down into the floor with me as I slide from his knees.

Defeat settles in my stomach like a heavy weight.

I could fight him on this, but I’m tired. I’m tired not only from what he’s done to me since the day I met him but from the thought of all the days to come.

I feel like this will never end, and the only way it will is when I’m too broken to be amusing to him anymore. The more I fight him, the more I’m just prolonging the inevitable. He will have his way, no matter what I do. So why let someone else die over it?

The hard floor is like ice against my knees.

I try to steady my hands enough to get his belt unfastened and fail miserably, again and again.

He doesn’t help.

He doesn’t put me out of my misery.

He just sits there and watches me as if the sight of me struggling is the best entertainment he’s ever had.

The thought of that morphs my fear into anger and I try again, determined this time. I manage to prize the metal buckle open and lift his clothes to locate the button on his jeans.

The room is dark, but I can make out the shadows of hair trailing down from his navel to the place I’m going. Even sitting as he is, his stomach is flat, the muscles visible just under his skin.

He leans forward, reaching behind his back and startling me slightly, but quickly settles back into position as I undo the button and pull down the zip.

My hand slides in and my fingers graze hot skin, smooth as the silk pillows that used to adorn my bed.

I hold my breath.

I close my eyes.

Just do it, stupid girl.

My ears explode as the sound of gunfire rattles against the walls of the empty room.

I drop my head into his lap without thinking. He shot me? What’s happening?

No.

He didn’t shoot me.

There’s laughter behind me.

“Fucking idiot,” Andrei mutters, before resuming his snickering. “You might have warned me.”

Glancing around, Andrei is still standing dutifully with his back turned away from us.

In front of him…

I can’t bring myself to look for more than a heartbeat.

Heat spreads over my body as my mind races in confusion. He shot the man? Baron shot the man?

But I obeyed every one of his orders?

Everything hits me all at once.

Frustration.

Defeat.

Suspicion.

Resentment.

It’s like a poisonous cocktail, mixed expertly by him.

The devil himself.

I look up only to see him staring down at me. I wish I could see his face. I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I bet he is delighted with himself.

That heady mix of emotions settles into my bloodstream and now the only thing I see is red.

No one should have this much power over someone.

Over everyone.

The man may be the devil, but he thinks he is God.

“You