Page 20 of A Dark Infinity

Where I can’t tear my eyes away from Ethan’s gorgeous body—seriously, it’s a work of art—he doesn’t even look in my direction. It makes me slightly better as I’m studying him closely, like my mind wants to commit every groove and line to memory. In my lust-filled haze, I never noticed the tattoo on his left hip. It’s gorgeous. It looks like dragon wings. The design is more intricate than the one covering his hands, but equally stunning.

“Let’s go,” he commands in a brusque tone while unlocking the door. I keep my head down as I walk past him.

The small walk to the door feels like it’s going on forever, the silence between us is anything but comfortable. In my haste to make myself feel better and show him I understood what just transpired between us, I angered him. And I don’t like that.

“Ethan, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Little bird,” he barks out while giving me his back. He signals to the bartender. The two of them talk while the bartender makes the drinks and when he’s done, Ethan pulls me over to a different booth. “Sit. Drink.”

My brows furrow in confusion. I don’t understand his shift in attitude. “O-okay,” I stutter. The drink tastes bitter, not at all as delicious as the previous ones. But under his cold gaze, I drink all of it. “Can you take me home now?”

Ethan looks pointedly at his still full glass. “You’re going to make me miss out on my drink, too?”

“No, I—” The explanation I wanted to give him dies off when it feels like my tongue is swelling. Words elude me. Thoughts escape me. What were we doing?

My eyes roll back in my head, and I sag against Ethan. Damn, these drinks are hitting me harder than they should. Granted, I haven’t eaten all day. Even so, two… or is it three? Four? It still shouldn’t make it this hard for me to sit upright.

“E-Ethan…” His name sounds funny as I say it. “What’s happening to me?” I reach for his tie, holding onto it for dear life as the world spins on its axis and everything turns dark.

9

Ethan

Standinginmydimlylit bedroom, I watch Lark sleep soundly on my bed. A surge of conflicting emotions courses through me. Anger, obsession, desire—they all swirl together in a chaotic whirlwind inside my mind.

She tried to leave me tonight, to escape my grasp, but I couldn’t let her go. She can never leave.

The taste of her sweet cunt still lingers on my tongue, a reminder of her submission. I smile as I remember how sweetly insecure she was. Fuck, she’s walked around thinking she was bad at sex, but I know she’s anything but. She’s so responsive, so willing, and totally mine. That’s why I had to tell the bartender to slip something into her drink, which he did without questions. Perks of being the owner, I guess. It’s her own fault.

If she hadn’t mentioned it being a one-night stand, I wouldn’t have drugged her. I would have taken her home and then snuck into her bedroom when she was asleep. But no, my Little Bird had to make things difficult. My dick lengthens and hardens at the thought of Lark waking up and fighting me. I almost hope it happens.

I rush to her side as brows pull together in a frown and she whimpers. “No, dad. No. No more. I need…”

Stroking her long, blonde hair that’s spread across my pillows, I ask, “What do you need, Little Bird?”

“Freedom,” she breathes, piquing my interest.

So my Little Bird is longing to spread her wings and fly, soar away from the shackle holding her in place; her dad. “Ask and you shall receive,” I say softly before placing a kiss on her forehead.

I pull my phone out and shoot a message off to Abel.

Me: What’s the process of getting rid of Lark’s dad?

Abel: There are a few options. But the least messy one is to mixup his dosage and let nature do its work.

Me: How long will it take?

Abel: A few days at most. If I do it now, she’ll see a change already in the morning.

I hesitate for a moment, my thumb hovering about my phone’s keyboard. Should I give her one more day with her dad before giving Abel the go ahead? No, my Little Bird wants her freedom.

Me: Do it.

I lie down next to her, and the moment our bodies touch, she stops whimpering and exhales slowly. It’s as if she knows what I just did and is at peace with it. Either that, or it’s my presence that brings her comfort.

As I continue to watch her sleeping form, a sense of possessiveness washes over me. She’s mine, and I’ll make sure she never forgets it. It’s time to show her who I am, and get her ready to meet the me she’s created just by existing.

I’m practically vibrating with excitement as I undress her. It’s hard not to get distracted by her deliciously naked body, but I manage. Once she’s completely naked, I roll off the bed and retrieve the handcuffs from the nightstand. Gently, almost tenderly, I secure her wrists to the bed frame, ensuring she can’t escape me even in her dreams.

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