Page 85 of Eden's Deliverance

He fights when I shove my panties through his lips, and I finally understand why he likes being in control so much.

If I don’t want him to touch me, I can make that happen. If I don’t want him to watch me, I can make that happen. And if I don’t want him to open his fucking mouth to spit more honeyed words at me…

“No. Fucking. Talking. You’re going to lie there and take it,” I recall, the memory of him doing the same thing to me still painfully vivid in my brain. “Or you won’t get anything at all.”

His hips buck frantically in an attempt to throw me off him, but when I press the tip of my knife into his left chest muscle, his legs tense up. The handcuffs clink together as he tries to find comfort in his position, but there’s no way he can touch me.

That’s all that matters. This is for me.

Despite the fact that he asked me not to go easy, he sure does fucking scream when I dig the blade into his flesh. I’ve never done this before, so I don't know exactly how deep I’m supposed to cut if I want to leave a permanent mark.

He isn’t handling it as well as I thought he would. For being someone who loves todothe cutting, I expected him to have more nerve than this.

It just goes to show, don’t dish it if you can’t take it.

Regardless, I persevere through his trembling and keep my hand as steady as possible, being sure to take my time so each letter looks perfectly legible for him to admire later.I contemplate writing out my name—it’s not like they aren’t aware of it—but I want to keep Scarlett away from Eden.

Standing from the bed to appreciate my handiwork at a distance, I only have one last thing to say to him before I leave. “Since you were such a bad boy and didn’t want to follow orders, I think I’ll leave you here to consider the consequences of your actions. Goodbye,darling,” I add before walking out the door.

I don’t imagine I’ll have much of a head start, because there’s no chance of them letting this go. There will be repercussions.

But my work here is done, for now.

32

Skylar

They’ve been in there for almost a fucking hour.

What could he be doing to her? And why the fuck would he go without insisting that we go together? He doesn’t get a free pass just because she put on the fucking mask.

She’s ours, or she’s mine. There is no in-between.

This is complete bullshit. It’s supposed to be me in there. How is it that she’ll fuck me as her stepbrother when she’s desperate enough, but when she’s finally ready to succumb to being a Ruby, shestillchooses Julian? I’m the one who made her comatose with that balcony fingerbanging on her birthday.

All he’s ever done is leave her crying.

I’m ordering my fifth drink when I spot her in the corner of my eye, emerging from the Red Room hallway. I must be drunk, because it almost seems like she’s walking right towards me.

Scarlett looks absolutely fucking delicious; that sleek, sexy dress hugging the serpentine curves of her body, those spiked heels I can’t get enough of, and the cherry on top—her intricate red mask. She’s finally embraced who sheis, but I’m starting to get the feeling it may have been a mistake to push her there.

The look she’s giving me is unscrupulous, and I can’t help but notice Julian’s not with her. She strokes the side of my face before sliding her fingers over my lips and into my mouth. When a metallic tinge coats the surface of my tongue, I grab her wrist, only to realize her arm is drenched in blood.

“What did you do?” I ask, tightening my hold.

She just smiles. The corners of her mouth twist into a nasty grin like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but before I can ask anything else, she rips her arm away and storms out.

Fuck…fuck…fuck. What the hell did she do?

I bolt from the bar stool and get to the Ruby section as quickly as possible, opening every door until I find him. Julian is lying on the bed with his shirt hanging open, chest covered in blood. She somehow found a way to bind, gag, and blindfold him. There are no signs of resistance, so she must have tricked him—Julian would never let someone touch him like this.

I don’t know where to start first, but I figure the gag works best so he can tell me what the fuck happened while I’m untying the rest of his bindings. “Jules, it’s me,” I rush out, ripping the tape from his mouth and taking out the…panties?

Jesus, this bitch is adjusting to our malady faster than I thought she would. We’ve always said we knew she had it in her, but this is diabolical warfare.

Once he’s completely freed, I prepare myself for the incoming blast of rage and despair over getting tricked into captivity, but he says nothing.

I observe every action, study every facial twitch—anything to get a feel for his mental state—but still, he gives me nothing. “Julian, wake the fuck up!” Snapping my fingers in front of his face, I try to get his attention.

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