Page 26 of Vicious Vines

I unlock the cell, stepping inside, my gun still strapped to my thigh—a reminder of the power I wield over life and death. His gaze lingers on the weapon, a silent acknowledgment of our dangerous game.

"Touch me," I command, and the heat of his hands sears my skin as he obeys.

"Forgive me," he murmurs against my neck, his lips branding apologies on my flesh.

"Make me," I reply, a dare laden with lust.

Our bodies crash together, a collision of chaos and passion. Liam's touch ignites a blaze that consumes my resolve, each movement a penance, every gasp a pledge of fealty. I entangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, seeking the destruction that comes with such forbidden pleasure.

"Yours," he grunts, as he helps me shed my clothes, tossing the gun to the side of the cell. He could have easily grabbed it and gotten himself out of here, but he’s doing what he said he would, proving his loyalty.

"Mine," I affirm, giving myself over to the tempest that Liam’s touch ignites. He traces the contours of my anger, mapping a path down to the core of my craving. His fingers part me and slip between my folds and soon my anger and desire are twined together in a vicious vine wrapped around my heart, the way it always is between us.

Growling, I shove at Liam, taking him by surprise so that he falls back to the floor with a thud, but I don’t care. I’m climbing over him as he begins to sit up, grabbing his cock and sliding it against my hot, wet center before sinking down. I groan as his length fills me, the pressure almost too much.

Liam reaches up to toy with my nipples, licking and nipping at the tight buds before leaning back and grabbing my hips, trying to take control of our pace.

But I don’t let him and I push down on his chest with my hands as I move, rocking myself on his cock and chasing my pleasure and my pleasure alone. Everything builds to spiral my ecstasy higher and higher, and then I’m crying out, arching my head to the heavens. Liam increases his pace below me, thrusting into me but I’m too far gone to care, and I succumb to the tumultuous waves, letting them crash over us, drowning in the intensity that has always been our undoing.

In the aftermath, as our labored breaths echo off the stone walls, I realize that nothing has changed. He is still my prisoner, and I am still captive, bound by desire even as betrayal lurks in the shadows.

The fire of my fury simmers as I lie entwined with Liam, a tangle of limbs and broken promises, the taste of each other the only truth we know. Liam's eyes, that once promised safety, now plead for mercy—a mercy I'm not sure I possess. But as I search those depths, seeking the shards of falsehood, something unexpected happens. The hard edges of my wrath begin to melt, giving way to a flicker of doubt, a tremor in the fortress of my resolve.

"Liam," I say, steadying my voice with an effort that belies the chaos within. "I am willing to give you one more chance." The words float between us, fragile as a spider's silk, yet unyielding as steel. "But hear me clearly. Any further betrayal will not be met with words or tears. It will be met with consequences you cannot fathom."

My declaration hangs heavy in the air, a decree that seals both our fates. His answer is not immediate, but when it comes, it's laced with the gravity of our situation, a silent vow that he understands the precipice on which we now stand.

The weight of my ultimatum seems to anchor Liam to the spot, his eyes never leaving mine. For a moment, we're both statues in a gallery of treachery and redemption, sculpted by our own choices. Then, like a thawing river, relief washes over his features, breaking through the frost of fear that had settled there.

"Thank you," he whispers, the simple words carrying the magnitude of a thousand confessions. "Sloane, I will spend every moment proving myself to you. My loyalty, my devotion—they're yours." His voice quivers with sincerity, a tremble in the depths that echoes through the hollow space between us.

I can almost see the shackles of his guilt shatter at the promise of my forgiveness, not yet given but dangled before him like a lifeline. It's in the way his shoulders ease back from their hunched penitence, the way his chest rises with a breath that sounds suspiciously like the first hope of dawn.

Chapter 21

The soft whisper of my heels on the polished marble floors of O'Neil manor is the only sound that accompanies me as I move through the grandeur of the foyer. I can feel the weight of history in these walls, secrets embedded within the frescoes, but none of that matters now.

I find Aldo standing by a towering window, his broad silhouette haloed by the dying light of dusk. The air between us crackles with an untamed electricity as I approach, and when he turns to face me, I see the storm brewing in his eyes.

"Evening, Aldo," I greet him, my voice steady despite the tempest of emotions raging inside me.

"Sloane." He nods, barely a greeting, all business. It's just as well.

"Maria has your sister," I start, watching his eyes narrow, a predator alerted to the presence of prey. "But she won't for much longer."

"Go on." His voice is a low growl, demanding, desperate.

"Liam knows where she's being kept. He can get her free," I reveal smoothly, letting each word hang heavy with implication.

Aldo's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "What's your price?" There's no accusation in his tone, just the hard edge of a man accustomed to the currency of favors and betrayal.

"Your loyalty to me," I say simply, laying my cards on the table. "Swear it and she's yours."

"Damn you, Sloane." But there is no heat behind his curse, only the cold fire of a decision being forged in the crucible of his will.

"Is that a yes?" I press, leaning in, close enough to breathe in his scent—wood smoke and resolve.

"Damn you," he repeats, this time with a hint of admiration tinging his words. "Yes."

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