Page 5 of Vicious Vines

Liam's hand pulls out of me, and I whine in disappointment. He chuckles as he bends down, pulling my pants and underwear off of me before grabbing my waist and sitting me on the wooden crate behind me. The coarse wood bites into my ass, but I don't care because Liam is bending down, lowering his head between my legs. The first swipe of his tongue has my hips rising, and his hands are there, pressing down, holding me in place, as he feasts on me.

His tongue presses inside of me, and I writhe in his grasp, craving more. He snakes one hand down and circles my clit once, twice, and then I'm shattering, coming undone in his arms.

Breathing ragged, I look down my body to see Liam smirking at me as he brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers. As he stands, I glimpse something lurking behind his smile, a predatory gleam hidden behind the charm he wears like armor.

The sound of a zipper has my core clenching and I can feel more wetness already gathering in anticipation. Liam must sense it, because he suddenly grabs my hips like a brand, the pain slicing through the pleasure as his words lash out like a whip. "Now this needy cunt is ready to be fucked."

He slams home in one brutal thrust, my mouth opening on a silent scream, the bite of being stretched so quickly mixing with the desire roaring through my veins. As Liam leans forward, wrapping one hand on my throat, I wind my legs around his hips, opening myself to whatever he will give me. Because I'll greedily take whatever pieces of Liam I can get in these moments, although they're never enough.

Moving his hand from my throat to wrap around my back, pressing me to him, Liam bends down as he continues fucking me, licking his way along my collarbone before he bites down, not hard enough to break the skin, but certainly hard enough to bruise. My orgasm comes out of nowhere, and I have no control over my body as it arches into Liam. My legs clutch him tightly as stars burst behind my closed eyelids. Liam's hot breath rushes by my ear as he chases me down with a climax of his own, my walls still fluttering with aftershocks.

The clatter of a distant door slamming shut pierces our cocoon of stolen bliss. My heart, still dancing to the rapid tempo of Liam's pulse against my skin, seizes in terror. I freeze, meeting Liam's eyes in silent alarm.

"Did you hear that?" I whisper. "Someone's here." I quickly disentangle myself from him, every nerve ending alight with the danger of our liaison being unmasked.

Scrambling for my discarded clothes, the seductive haze that cloaked us is now shredded by adrenaline and fear. The rusted metal bones of the warehouse seem to groan in warning as I frantically get dressed.

"Go out the back," I hiss, my voice brittle like thin ice. "I'll handle it."

"Handle what?" Liam begins, but I cut him off with an urgent glare.

"Just go." The conviction in my own words tastes like ash.

He nods, and with one last lingering look—one that speaks volumes of unspoken 'what ifs'—he disappears into the shadows. A dull ache spreads through my chest as the space between us stretches, filled with the ghosts of our mingled breaths and whispered promises.

Now clothed, I brace myself against the cool wall, strengthening my resolve. The footsteps grow louder, drawing nearer, and I swallow down the panic that threatens to crawl up my throat. Every step they take is a countdown to the potential unraveling of everything I've worked so hard to build and protect.

As the trespasser rounds the corner, I spring forward, ready to confront—or worse—the intruder. But it's just a stray cat, its yellow eyes blinking indifferently at me before it scuttles away. Relief washes over me in a dizzying wave, leaving behind a residue of paranoia.

Once my breathing steadies, I allow myself a moment to consider the madness of it all. Here, in this desolate place, surrounded by the echoes of our forbidden union, the weight of reality settles heavily upon my shoulders. I almost laugh as I realize the terror just caused by a stray cat.

A sense of foreboding chills me as I think ahead to the next time we dare to meet in secret. Each encounter risks exposing the tender, treacherous bond that tethers our hearts despite the feud that rages between our families.

"Damn it, Sloane," I chastise myself, feeling the walls of the O'Neil empire pressing in. To love Liam is to court disaster, yet it’s a disaster I can’t seem to turn away from. What cruel twist of fate led me to find my mirror in the enemy's son?

But as I slip out into the night, leaving the warmth of the warehouse behind, there's another whisper of a thought, softer and infinitely more dangerous. What if Liam is right? What if my fear of the war our union could bring is just in my imagination?

The night wraps around me like a shroud, the brisk air seeping through my bones as I get in my car and make my way home through the streets of Kingsdale, my heart feeling like it's being torn into frayed ribbons.

I park my car in front of my estate, a fortress of stone and secrets. Stepping out into the moonlit night, I whisper to the stars above, hoping they will hear my wish to have it all, love and power, without sacrificing one for the other. But with each step toward the looming doors, the weight of our forbidden love presses down, threatening to crush me beneath its impossible demands.

And in that moment, standing at the precipice of war and desire, I'm left to wonder if wanting it all means losing everything.

Chapter 3

The first of the winter winds roars outside my window, a backdrop to my swirling thoughts. The O'Neil crime family is not just an empire; it is my legacy, my bloodline's claim to power in the murky depths of Kingsdale's underworld. Yet, acceptance within these walls is as elusive as smoke, slipping through my grasp each time I think I have it contained.

I run my fingers over the smooth surface of the dark walnut desk, one I had picked out years ago and finally got to purchase when my father died. The desk may be new, but the room is not, and it has seen rulers come and go, but none quite like me. A woman at the helm of an empire that thrives on brutality. They said I'd be too soft, too emotional. Yet here I stand, my resolve hardened by the very skepticism that seeks to tear me down.

But betrayal, it seems, is a bitter root that can sprout even in the most loyal of gardens. Whispers slither through the halls like serpents waiting to strike, and I know there are those among my own who would see me fall. Their names echo in my mind: Conner, with his slick words and smoother deals; Nora, whose eyes glint with ambitions she thinks I don't see; and Damien, whose silence speaks louder than any protest could. They move through the ranks, sowing seeds of discord, questioning my orders, and fanning the flames of rebellion at every turn.

Each act of defiance is a small cut, a nick in the armor I've fought so hard to forge. Conner delays shipments and skims profits, undermining my authority with each dollar that fails to reach our coffers. Nora flirts with information, her loyalties as changeable as the tides, trading secrets for favors in dark corners where she thinks my gaze doesn't reach.

And Damien... oh, Damien plays the part of the dutiful soldier, all while his eyes dart with silent judgment, evaluating, always evaluating. His hesitation is a thorn in my side, a sign to others that perhaps the queen isn't as untouchable as she appears to be.

The wind howls beyond the window, a low and menacing prelude to the storm I am about to unleash within the dimly lit chambers of my ancestral home.

The soft click of the door closing behind me is the only sound in the dimly lit study, where shadows cling to the corners like conspirators. I stand before Damien, a traitor in my midst, with evidence clutched in my hand like a dagger.

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