Page 27 of Carnival
“So defiant,’’ he chuckles. “It’s adorable, really. I’ll have so much fun fucking the defiance out of you.’’
His head sinks low, his lips grazing the crook of my neck, yet not quite giving me the contact I’m craving. Teasingly, he caresses my side over the oversized shirt, his touch surprisingly gentle. My body trembles, anticipation builds in the pit of my stomach, and all rationality flies out of the window the moment his lips start kissing my neck.
My eyes close, and even in the dark abyss, I can see those dark eyes. He’s lurking, he’s haunting, and he’s claiming his prey.
“So sweet,’’ he bites down, harshly, a small scream slipping from my lips. It’s painful, but it still gets the arousal out of me, my thighs clenching together as if to try and stop the wetness between my legs.
My hands reach up to grip his forearms, and he groans, kissing my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses all over, switching between sucking on my flesh and leaving marks and licking to soothe the ache.
“James,’’ I whisper, my voice needy and trembling.
“My name sounds so sweet on your lips.’’ He sinks his teeth into my flesh, roughly, and I’m seeing stars. The pain and pleasure morph together, and it’s enough to create bubbles of excitement in me.
“But,’’ he pauses, lifting his head to look at me, and my eyes open. “Only good girls deserve rewards, and you weren’t a good girl, were you, hellion?”
James pulls off me, standing up and adjusting the bulge in his sweats. A sigh of disappointment comes from me, and he smirks. He grabs my arms and pulls me back into a sitting position, then returns to sit on the chair.
“Now, since you’ve been curious, I’ll indulge and answer three questions and three questions only. Choose wisely.’’
11
Rose
Three questions.
James continues to look at me, his expression blank, though I can see a glimmer of something like excitement in his eyes. Questions upon questions run through my head, and it’s impossible to pick just three and get all the answers that I want. I could either focus on the aspect of this room and what James actually wants from me, or I could ask about my parents and figure out if he knows anything.
Either way, I’m not going to be satisfied with the answers.
My hands curl around the soft blanket, draping it over my lap. The scent of lavender hits my nose, and for reasons unknown to me, my body starts relaxing, the thick tension leaving my shoulders, yet my mind remains swamped.
“Alright,’’ I swallow a knot in my throat, back straightening slightly. James looks as unbothered as ever, leaning back into the chair and folding his arms in front of his chest. Even thoughhe’s wearing a thick hoodie, I can see the outline of his biceps, the way they flex when he shifts his arms.
“Go on then.’’ His voice is filled with amusement that he doesn’t even try to hide. “I’m not a very patient man, hellion. You’d best ask the questions soon, or I might not be willing to answer them.’’
A scowl is on my face, but I take a moment to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths. If he’s giving me the leeway of asking only three questions, I need to figure out how to articulate one question but for him to answer more than the question itself.
“This room… you said it used to be mine. I want an elaborate answer on how you would know that.’’
He chuckles. “Ah, a clever approach. Not that I expected anything less from you.’’
“Tell me.’’
He quirks a brow at the demand in my tone but chooses to ignore it. He tilts his head to the side, eyeing me up a couple of times.
“You and I were in the same foster house.’’
It feels as if someone had slapped me. Wind gets knocked out of my lungs, and all I can do is stare at his face. I don’t blink, don’t move, and don’t breathe for what seems to be an eternity. Cold sweat drips down my forehead, my throat closing in. Suddenly, my heart picks up the pace, rapidly beating against my ribcage, and I’m shocked it hasn’t jumped out yet.
“What?” I manage to croak out a breathless whisper, spilling from my lips, the desperation undeniable. My knuckles turnwhite from the intense gripping on the blanket, and it’s as if my limbs are frozen, and I’m unable to move an inch.
The memories I don’t have, the memories I haven’t been sure I wanted to return to, are the same ones James has. Of me. Of himself. Of us. I don’t know what to make out of his answer, because whatever I thought he’d answer with, it definitely wasn’t something like this.
“I’m feeling oddly generous,’’ James muses, the undertone of mockery cutting through me like a knife. “You were four when your parents died, and you were put in a foster home, though the family was… well, bad. When you turned seven, you were placed with a different family, the Cooper family, where, coincidentally, I was living. This was your room in their house.’’
His words echo in my ears, and a ringing sensation follows. My body still refuses to move, and the more he speaks, the more I’m curious, with too many questions running through my mind.
“Why? How?” The words splutter from my mouth, the surprise at the revelation evident on my face. I search his face, unmoving my gaze, looking for anything to explain what the fuck I just found out, but as always, the perfectly aloof expression is on his face, unwavering under my scrutinizing stare.
