Page 23 of Marked

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I haven’t changed. But it’s just not possible,” he blurts. His gaze is a pleading one, as if he begs Jeff to understand. The poor guy has no idea what Romain is on about, and if it’s up to me, he’ll never know, thank you very much. But patience is nothing but an important pawn in any game. So I let him speak. “I missed you so much. I was afraid, here, by myself. I wanted to be back with you, which was fucking sick, if you think about it—” Romain looks away as he clears his throat. His throat bobs and my desire itches, itches to carve his delicate, pale skin and to watch it bleed. To mark it with my words.

Possess you. I possess you. I need to possess you.

“I mean, I shouldn’t love those things so much. But I did. I needed your attention. I don’t really know if you ever really cared about me, you know?” Romain’s words blast through my own thoughts, making my chest clench with a strange sense of hurt. He’s staring back at my man, who is weary now, I can see it in his stance. “When you bought me that basket and those pillows. They felt softer than my own bed, and I loved them so much—” Romain chuckles softly, “even though you held me by a leash on your bed.”

Way too much information, I inwardly grumble. But then, he is talking about this for the very first time and I’m drinking up his thoughts. No, I’m not going to interrupt him.

“And when you plugged my ass with that cat tail and showed me to your friends?—”

Uhm, maybe I am.

My hand is on my knife before I can think straight, and I’ve already taken three strides before I realize it. Before anyone realizes, as it seems, because they haven’t moved and are still staring at each other.

“I—I liked it,” Romain stammers. “You made me feel?—”

“You fucking needed it, mon chat,” I growl. Romain jumps, widened eyes going from Jeff back to me.

“You!” He barks.

“Me.” With the knife, I gesture my man for action. “Come on.”

“No!” Romain shouts. His knife comes up, and for the shortest of seconds I fear he might throw it right at me. But then he turns around and runs.

“Take that way and meet us around the corner.” I watch Jeff get into position while I gaze down the corridor at Romain’s fleeting frame. “The Chase is over. Time to get to the wicked stuff.”

CHAPTER 8

ROMAIN

“Pet.”

It was Ascension Thursday and I’d arrived in the church early for service. That morning, I’d had breakfast with Maman, since it was her birthday. It had been nice, and for once she and I had actually talked about nice things. I’d shown her a project I’d made for Science class about the future of Mars, and she’d told me she was impressed. I’d been elated.

When I made my way around the outside back of the impressive building, Edouard was already waiting for me. It was a sunny day, and leaning against the church wall, he looked tall and tanned despite his strawberry blond hair, fierce and cruel as he crooked his finger for me to come close. I obeyed, grinning like a love-struck kitten, and it wasn’t until our noses practically bumped that he gave me one of those sexy smirks. I swallowed, feeling helpless like I always did when being in his presence. Edouard was charming, sensual, an absolute sadist and he controlled my very life. Before him, I’d never been with anyone else, and telling Maman that I preferred boys was a no-go. Although, she must have known by then what we did upstairs in Edouard’s room every single day of the week. I didn’t know if she cared. He could have forced me into having sex with him, could have tortured me like he did to his client’s targets that he told me about, and I don’t think she would have cared. In exchange for my freedom, she had unlimited supplies to whatever it was she needed.

So here I was once more at Edouard’s beckoning, heart treacherously thundering in my chest when he reached out and cupped my cheek. It was just me and him and our abandoned church. I had missed him. I wanted to ask him if he’d hoped to see me here as well, if he’d missed me too, but I was too still shy to ask.

Cupping my face, I cherished the way his fingertips grazed my heating skin, the way his gray eyes roamed my face, blinking with those thick, dark lashes as he dipped his gaze and stared at my lips. I licked them, still nervous being in his presence even after all this time. I couldn’t help it. It was the effect he had on me. He was my everything and his aura sucked me in, seduced me to do unspeakable things.

I was obsessed with Edouard Beaumont.

He took out a pack of cigarettes from his suit pants and nipped one out with his teeth, lips curling around it when he caught me staring. Placing a hand on my head, he gently coaxed me down and onto my knees. I watched him get comfortable against the walls, spreading his legs and popping the button with his ringed fingers, the unlit cigarette dangling disregarded.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” I heard myself say, but my voice was thick with arousal. He must have heard it too, because he let out a hoarse chuckle, then freed his thick, veiny dick, that was already flush and wet with arousal.

“Lap it up, sweet pet,” he murmured. With his hand on my nape, he guided me forward, and my complaints were choked in my throat. My own dick throbbed inside my suit pants—the only pair I owned—and I prayed to god I wouldn’t cream them.

This was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. We were practically inside the house of God. I heard the voice in my head, but my mind was too rattled to remember the reasons.

He lit his cigarette and slid his free fingers down toward my chin, making me look up at him with my lips stretched around his erection. He smiled, caressing my mouth and cheeks with his tips as he started thrusting. Inhaling another drag, his touch became more solid, and he kept my face in position as he slowly rocked his hips. In and out, in and out, my chin and neck filling with drops of spit and precum as he let out another whiff of smoke.

“Good boy.” Leaning forward, he pulled out and I gasped, busy catching my breath. He placed the cigarette between my lips and watched as I took in a drag and exhaled the smoke. Straightening his tall posture, he pulled my mouth back around his cock. “So, so good,” he hummed. “I missed you this morning, you know?”

No, I didn’t know, and it could hardly be the truth. He could have who he wanted, and I seriously wondered why he was wasting his time with me. I didn’t tell him that though. Hearing the words out loud would make the ache even stronger. The truth was that I missed him even when he was around me. Like I was already preparing for the day he’d kick me out of his mansion and throw me back at the trailer where I belonged. Living the rest of my life with Maman because there wouldn’t be a future for a poor rat like me.

“Hey.” He slapped my cheek loud enough for me to hiss and bring me back to the moment. “Where did you go?” I couldn’t really answer that question with my mouth full and all, and he chuckled, aware of that too. “Welcome back.” Flicking his cigarette away, he stretched like a cat, rocking his hips freely and rapidly now, only to freeze for the slightest of seconds, before he picked up a slow, deliberate pace, making me choke, eyes dancing with a sadistic sort of amusement. They were no longer focused on me, but on something behind me. That should have warned me, I guess. But the truth was that I was too caught up in the moment, my mouth reveling at his scent and texture, at the desire to please him.

I didn’t see it coming until it was already there.

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