Page 18 of Eden's Deliverance

I spin towards him and look up into his eyes with my head cocked, ready to tease with a smirk on my face. “Join you, why? So I could rob that poor girl of what I’m sure would be a lovely evening of torture she didn’t agree to? No thank you, I’ll take my chances elsewhere.” I rip the cigarette from his hand and pull it to my lips. Leaning back against the glass wall, I take a long drag before letting out the smoke in a French-inhale. “I’m not here for games. You either want to fuck me, or you don’t.”

The look on his face is a mixture of something I can’t quite make out. Maybe he’s surprised or impressed, but either way, it seems like he wasn’t expecting me to call him out on his bullshit.

After a moment, he straightens to compose himself, eagerly watching my lips through the smoke before he responds. “Of course I do. But you’re still not wearing a red mask.”

I tilt my head to the opposite shoulder as I take in his attire. “Neither are you,” I taunt. He’s wearing a green mask—the same as me.

I’m genuinely confused. Somehow, he’s matched me both times we’ve met, but he insisted I’d need to follow him to the Red Room if I wanted more.

His hands shoot out to grab the railing on either side of my body, effectively caging me in. He bends down to whisper against my lips, “I can’t do the things I want to do to you if we’re anywhere else.”

I don’t know how to respond. I want him, but I’m not willing to go to the Red Room or put on any mask I’m not ready for.

“I guess that’s too bad.” I take another drag of the cigarette and blow it directly into his face before turning around—ceremoniously claiming it as my own.

“Fine. Then come back with me tonight.”

Interesting. But I don’t take the bait. “No.”

“Why not? I’ll play your game, you win.” He’s trying to intimidate me—to make me bend to his command again. The honeyed words dripping from his lips don’t make the truth any less obvious.

Nobody gives in that quickly, especially not when he’s been so stubborn about making me put on a red mask.

“Why would I? So you can toy with me again, get me close to coming, just to leave? No, thank you.” I can’t help but instigate, not when he’s playing into my own game. “I’ve already got someone to clean up after the mess you made, I’d rather skip the middleman.”

My issue is that these sweet nothings aren’t doing it for me, and they just make me want to fuck with him more—to bring back the primal instinct he had last time. Getting me into bed doesn’t require all the chauvinistic crap he’s spewing out.

He only needs to take a different approach.

His fingers reach around to pinch my chin, turning me to meet his eyes over my shoulder. “What if I promise not to, hm?”

Like I said, honeyed words.

“Hmm, how about…no.” I rip my jaw from his grip to take another drag of the cigarette. “I don’t believe you.”

I’m not buying it. The issue isn’t that he’ll most likely deny me another orgasm if I agree to go back with him. Truthfully, I didn’t mind it so much since I was able to get that other Pearl man to finish me off.

My problem is this fake bullshit.

I’ve seen how he is in the bedroom. I know what it looks like when he takes what he wants, and it’s not this. I want him to take it.

I’m half-expecting more whispers and pleas. Instead, he fists my hair and slowly pulls my head back against his shoulder. “How about…” His soothing voice in my ear leaves goosebumps across my skin, but then he bites my earlobe so hard I let out a yelp. “You’re coming back with me, whether you like it or not.”

Yep.That’ll just about do it.

“Okay, okay…yes.” At the end of the day, I’m a bitch in heat for this guy, and I’m too horny to feel ashamed. He could do anything he wants to me and I’d say, ‘Thank you, sir.’

Stealing the cigarette back, he takes a final drag before tossing it off the balcony. He leads me hurriedly down the same hall we entered before, his hand never leaving the small of my back as we approach the set of doors across from the Pearl rooms.

This one is a little different than the last.

While the bed is still the main focus, there are also some wooden contraptions off to the side—one of which looks like a giant ‘X’ with black-leather cuffs at each arm. Along the wall at the foot of the bed, a large cabinet sits with various toys, paddles, and whips lining the shelves.

The man circles me while I observe our surroundings, his eyes filled with the promise of all the things he wants to do. “Are you going to be good and take off your clothes, or am I going to have to make you?” he purrs, stepping between me and the cabinet.

After the display of phony begging on the balcony, I’m not inclined to give him anything unless he forces it out of me. I don’t usually play nice, especially not after getting a workaround.

A defiant grin pulls at the corners of my mouth, and I can see the exact moment it clicks for him.

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