Page 40 of Eden's Deliverance

Fuck me. Maybe I really am in a stalker novel.

The porno doesn’t stop there. Broody aggressively grabs him around the back of the neck and rips him forward until they crash together in a kiss so fucking hot, I could come just from the sight of it. Their tongues fight against each other, like they’re seeing who can come out victorious with the flavor of me stuck to their taste buds.

From my vantage, I have the clearest view of all the action, and I’ll need to smack myself later for the whimper that escapes my throat. I don’t know which of the three of us are horniest right now, but my body doesn’t seem to care.

It doesn’t matter that I hate them or even that I just had an orgasm less than two hours ago. In this moment, I want them.

I shuffle my limbs to get their attention, and they finally break away from one another to look down at me. “I think our girl wants another taste,” Casanova says, sticking his fingers back into my pussy to scoop up some of the wetness before feeding it to Broody. “Give her what she wants.”

He’s hesitant to reposition himself but ultimately resigns, inching backwards to take his knees off my hands. I could take advantage of my newfound freedom. I could rip out chunks of his long hair. I could pull off his mask and ruin his anonymity. Or I could sit here and be good, feeding into their sick fantasy.

But is it theirs, or mine?

Broody kneels in close, lining himself up with my lips—despite the fact that we’re facing opposite directions—and kisses me. It’s soft at first, but when his tongue pokes at the crease in my lips, I open my mouth and take him in. The kiss becomes deep and hungry, similar to his battle with Casanova, except this feels like a conversation.

Like he’s trying to tell me something.

Casanova abuses my lack of vision and shoves his fingers inside of me unexpectedly, but when I let out an involuntary gasp, Broody grabs my throat with his free hand. His fingers curl around the entirety of my neck and cut off my air supply until I’m not only fighting his tongue, but also struggling to breathe. It’s obvious he gets off on it, because the feral grumble vibrating against my lips is something to write about.

A moment later, Casanova interrupts and forces Broody to pull away, but I’m not sure if it’s out of jealousy or if they're in a hurry to leave.

“We’ve got something to talk about. Obviously, you aren’t keeping your promise about coming to the Red Room, so we have another proposition for you.” I eye himcuriously, but Broody hasn’t removed his hand from my neck, so I have no way of responding. “Keep your plaything for now, have your fun, stay as a Pearl if you really want to. But Eden is hosting a New Year’s Eve party in the Rainbow Room, and we’d like for you to join us.”

With a furrowed brow, I try to decline, but Broody crushes my windpipe until I’m panicking for air.

“We know you want this,” Broody spits. “We’ve read your journal, so we know exactly how much. Stop fighting it. We’ll be there, but if you’re not…we’re moving on. No more sessions at Eden, no anything. You can go back to being a good little Pearl and fuck around with some vanilla dick. Or better yet, maybe we’ll make sure you’re completely cut off—”

“Enough!” Casanova snaps. He stands up, removing the knives that are pinning my cape to the ground. “Think about it, that’s all I ask.” He brushes his knuckles softly across my cheek, then turns to walk back through the woods.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re already making this harder than it needs to be.” In direct contrast to Cas’s goodbye, Broody smacks my cheek with a harshsnapbefore leaving.

I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s become our routine. I’m here, half-naked and alone, horny and unsatisfied. They’re walking away, triumphant and fulfilled, already planning their next torture session.

Unfortunately, I won’t be humoring them.

15

Skylar

I guess that Post-it did come in handy. Who’d have thought?

Julian and I are trudging through the woods, trying to navigate the way back to my car. I’m fuming, and if I don’t put my fist through something soon, I’m going to lose it. I can still taste her on my tongue, and it’s drowning out all of my thoughts and senses.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘just think about it’?” I bark out.

“Can you not wait five fucking minutes until we get to the car? Shut your fucking mouth,” he hisses, not willing to indulge my antagonization.

Whatever.

The second our doors slam shut and I get the car in gear, I punch his shoulder.Hard.To hell with not hitting him. He deserves it. “What are you doing, fucker? We’re supposed to be making her think she has no choice, not lay out all the options for her.”

“You don’t get it. You haven’t been in those rooms with her—” he cuts himself off, hands raising in surrender when I hold up my fist again, ready to strike. “I just mean…she likes to feel a little control, like she has some power and isn’t completely trapped in a cage. Your temper is going to shut her out for good. Get a fucking grip, dude. Seriously, what is your problem with her? You obsess over her, then you wanna kill her, then I watch you suck her face for 60 seconds. Now you hate her again.”

He thinks I don’t get him, but he’ll never truly get me. Nobody—not even me on most days—will ever understand the push and pull I feel for this girl. Thewhyof it all.

Yeah, I’m attracted to her, and I think about her every time I’m with a woman or even when I’m by myself. She’s in my head like a fucking plastic straw up a turtle’s nose—she shouldn’t be there, but the world is so fucked up that she justis, and there’s no getting her out.

“Does it have anything to do with your d—”

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