Page 54 of Deviant Illusions

“Shh, you’re mine.” I hold each of the serpents bracketing her head and lower my hands so they’re closer to hers. “Hold my wrists, koukla mou.”

The leather cuffs rattle through the bolt as she wraps her fingers around my wrists, still begging me, “Kane, please.”

More blood flows through out of the small holes between the engraved scales in the serpent as I fully bury myself inside her. Her tears are on my lips, but I need more, so I bite her cheek, sucking them into my mouth. Just the taste of them does something to me, knowing that the salt coating my tongue belongs to one person who ruined me. I grind against her.

Her screams vibrate against my skin.

“KANE! PLEASE!”

My hips move faster, loving the way she feels. How her fear fucking soaks my dick and she clenches along with her screams. But more blood flows and the conversations behind me restart, reminding me that we’re not alone. I kiss her wet cheek again and move my lips as little as possible to stop our audience eavesdropping.

“Don’t scream for anyone other than me.”

I get a small nod. The wood creaks as I fuck her in shallow thrusts. My belt buckle claps against her inner thigh. Her tears soak into the collar of my shirt as she pushes her face into the crook of my neck.

And I continue whispering into her ear. “That’s my fucking wife. No one gets to have anything from you. Only me.”

The blood trickles down, seeping through my pants and sticking to her thighs.

“J-just me an— And you,” Delilah whimpers into my neck.

Her nails dig into my wrists and the sounds in the room are increased. Cheers and glasses clink together while I shield her, myself, us, from them.

“Always, koukla mou,” I promise.

SPACE

DELILAH, 17 YEARS OLD

My cheek burns in the cold air as I lay on Kane’s bed, my head half out of the window. His pillow is the perfect temperature as I push it under my nape while I wait for him to get home and tell me off for injuring myself with the sharp ledge pressed into the back of my neck.

All the shit of the day catches up with me now that I’m in my safe space. These moments are all I need with my person—the one who looks through all the bullshit and thinks I need protection. That I’m worth something as precious and hard to come by as safety.

I haven’t thought about Ruby’s warning in years, but I can’t stop now that I saw his name in Asher’s phone. Rowan’s messages were all normal, but it was Asher sending fucked up things to him. It could be a coincidence; a shared name isn’t uncommon. Yet, there’s a feeling in my gut telling me that it has a deeper meaning, and I didn’t even get to the part of the thread that revealed his plan for Kane. I should have locked myself away to read it instead of being stupid and searchingfor Kane’s name in his messages, thinking it would tell me if the only person I care about has moved on to someone else.

It was an idiotic plan, considering Kane wouldn’t tell Asher shit about his life, especially if he was dating someone. But I can’t temper the violence brewing at the thought of anyone touching him. I can’t continue ruining anyone’s life who gets close to him or he’ll figure out that it’s me. Three stupid fucking girls thought they could speak to him and now they’ve moved. A fourth will raise suspicion. I could kill her to change the pattern. But then he’d think I was a monster, when the reality is that his brother is fucking evil. If I was given one opportunity to kill anyone, it would be that motherfucker Asher.

No, I could kill the girl who was flirting with him as a warning for any others who think they can speak to him. Vehicular manslaughter might be easy. Sorry, officer, she just ran out into the road and I didn’t see her. Or make her get sick so she’s treated in one of my dad’s hospitals, then it can be medical negligence when I sneak in to turn her ventilator off. Yeah, that could work. No one would ever know it’s me.

The bedroom door opens, and Kane drags his bag into the room, bringing my plotting session to an end. I don’t move as the crack of light from the hallway slowly narrows. He sighs, throwing his things in the corner of the room. “What are you doing here, Delilah?”

There’s no “My pretty girl.”

In a moment of weakness, I tell him the truth as I play mental dot-to-dot with the stars.

“I feel safe with you.”

He sighs, again, and the bed dips near my feet. Then he lifts my ankles to place them on his lap before he holds my calves and softly demands, “Talk to me.”

I can’t tell him that our families have secrets or that I’m close to finding out exactly what they are. Or that I havea feeling that the secrets are going to be worse than I can imagine. There’s something inside of me telling me to prepare for the worst, then brace for impact.

So, I deflect, because I can’t hurt him or make him question his family when I’m not sure about anyone other than his dumb prick of a brother being a monster.

“I love watching the stars in this exact space,” I whisper up at the sky. “They always look brighter when I’m with you.”

Kane gently kisses my knee. I look down as he lays his head on my thighs, and gently run my fingers through his hair. “You are so much more than you think you are. One day, Kane Xandros, you’re going to do something extraordinary and I’m going to be able to say I knew that man.”

“Will you be next to me?” He picks up my left hand and strokes my ring finger.

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