Page 67 of Eden's Deliverance

“Skylar,” she starts, huddling up against my shoulder to whisper in my ear, “could we watch movies again in the living room?”

I turn to her and feign bafflement at the appearance of her blotchy skin and swollen eyes. My hand rises to cup her cheek as I thumb away a loose tear. Thankfully, she leans into my touch, quickly closing her eyes to hide when I ask, “Scarlett, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Her lids open to reveal two golden-caramel irises staring up at me, glazed and wet. It only takes a second before she shamefully locks them shut again. I’m not proud to see her looking so distraught at my hand—I’d rather it be because I fucked that look out of her—but it means I have her wrapped around my finger.

I don’t know how else to deal with the spiraling thoughts I have about her. What’s even worse is that I have no idea what’s going on insideherhead. She’s been the model ‘bigger person’ between the two of us since Thanksgiving when I opened up about my feelings. I mean, I guess I didn’t straight up tell her how I feel, but it was implied: I want her, I want to share something that’s worth a damn, and I’ve wanted it for a while.

She rejected me so nimbly, like my feelings were a joke she’d discovered the punchline to on her own. She all but spat in my face with it before crawling back just becauseBroodythreatened her. She proved that I’m no more than a warm body to use for protection when she’s lonely or scared.

“Scarlett,” I repeat, holding her round, puffy cheeks between both of my palms. “Answer me. What’s wrong?”

She opens her eyes, and I wish she hadn’t. Tears pour down her face as she resists my comfort, shaking her head in denial. “I can’t tell you.”

The only thing left to do is channel my innerBroody. If she’s so scared of him—of me—my only hope is to show her I can be worse.

I slide one hand down to wrap around her throat, applying pressure to her pulse point with my thumb. My other hand travels back to tangle in her hair, using a tight grip to pull her head back in a demanding embrace. She needs to understand how fragile she is in my hands. I could do so much to her if I wanted to, but she needs to be afraid that Iwill.

“I won’t ask again. Tell me, now.”

Scarlett’s brow furrows, and it’s a good thing I know exactly how to read her. She’s comparing me tothem. “You swear, you don’t know about Eden?” she asks.

Her eyes flick back and forth between my own, waiting for me to break—waiting for me to reveal that I’m who she’s long suspected me to be. But that won’t happen.

She can never find out who we are.

I glance away for a second and notice something peeking through the collar of her shirt. Releasing her throat, I trail my fingers down and stretch the fabric to reveal what’s underneath.

Two arched rows of tiny horizontal bruises line the space between her neck and shoulder. I brush my thumb lightly across the skin there, my mind circling back to last night when I bit her.

I’d already been inside her twice on my own, but Julian’s punishment turned out to be more than I could have hoped for. We didn’t plan it that way. Really, we didn’t have any sort of plan going into the night—aside from the restraints. As a matter of fact, we were late to the fucking party because we couldn’t decide on how to approach the situation, only settling on the fact that we’d have to play it by ear.

When we found her with Dario,all hell broke loose. I’ve never seen him act so impulsively, but when he ripped her off the guy’s lap, I knew she was done for. I wasn’t about to get in his way and risk ending up on the wrong side of his knife. I saw it in his eyes; he’s not letting her go, not anymore.

Not after last night.

I don’t share well, and he knows that. I was clear that I didn’t want him in this, but he convinced me anyway, and now we’re caught in this fucking predicament. I want her for myself. There’s no denying that last night was a blast, and we’ve shared women before, but this isn’t some trashy college hookup.

This is Scarlett McKenna we’re talking about.

Scarlett, the woman wearing an imprint of my teeth marks. The woman who chose me twice without me having to play a game of chase. Scarlett, the woman who makes my blood boil and my skin set ablaze whenever she’s around me. The woman who moans so perfectly for me, like a siren singing her song of death.

She’s got her claws in me.

I won’t give her up for anything or anyone.

“Is that who did this?” My thumb presses gently into her neck, turning the teeth marks from red to white as the color leaves her skin. “Who is Eden?”

I’m such a fuck.

Her eyelids flutter as she strains to hold our gaze through the tears, ultimately closing them as her shoulders slump in defeat. “No,” she whispers.

“Then who?”

“I-I can’t—”

Her teeth click when I thrust my palm against her chin and wrap my fingers around the bottom of her jaw, shutting her mouth. “Either you tell me now, or I find out on my own. I bet Penelope would be more than happy to explain what the fuck’s got you so worked up,” I warn.

I wouldn’t talk to Penelope if my life depended on it, but she doesn’t know that. Her eyes light up with panic, and she digs her nails into my wrist until I let her go.

---