Page 14 of Liar's Heart
His smile turns plasticine, shiny and fake. “Semantics. Now, be honest with me. Has Ender had you yet?”
My eyebrows hit my hairline under my mask. “This conversation is over,” I assert.
I try to pull out of his hold, but Alec stops me, his hand a vise on mine. “You will not embarrass me in front of my guests, nor will you embarrass me in front of the Council.” He leans in, his face close to mine. Close enough that I have no choice but to bend backward to gain any sort of distance from him, forcing me to shift my weight, which puts me off balance. “It’s in your best interest to do as I say; fuck my son and give me a child sooner rather than later.”
Everything within me is vibrating with rage. What I wouldn’t give to have hidden a knife on me earlier. “I am not some broodmare,” I seethe.
He shakes his head, rueful. “Oh, Merrick. Here’s the thing about women: You’re all either wives or whores. And I don’t have a need for either if they refuse to open their legs.”
“Good thing I’m notyourwife, then,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
Alec straightens, looking down his nose at me with green eyes full of venom. A contemplative hum leaves him that sounds so much like my husband, it makes my stomach flip and tangle in revulsion. We might’ve only met a week ago, but I can say with full confidence that Ender is nothing like his father. Not once has he ever even hinted that he shares those same feelings, nor have I heard him speak of or to a woman like this. Hell, I’ve yet to see him fail to say “please” and “thank you” to his staff when he gives them orders.
I try to yank my hand away again, only to be denied. This shit is really getting old. Resigned, I take a deep breath and prepare to fight an old man while wearing heels. The mask protects his nose, and I’d have to go at it with my left hand, so I should go low instead. Sliding my feet into a better stance, I consider whether I should take my stiletto to his foot or my knee to his groin first. He’s probably expecting me to go for the balls. Foot it is.
The second I make my decision, the air turns thunderous, and I feel him, that pull that’s becoming all too familiar, prickling the back of my neck. Alec must sense something shift, too, because he looks up, finally letting go of me. I take a step backward and watch my father-in-law smooth his features into a placid expression while he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Son, I—” Alec starts, but Ender cuts him off.
“We’re leaving.” It’s said with such finality that Alec doesn’t even protest. Or maybe he does, and I can’t hear it because the entirety of my focus has been reduced to the warm palm suddenly pressing into the small of my back. My skin is buzzing where he’s touching me, making it hard to keep up with my husband’s long strides as he carves a path through the throng. Instead of heading to the grand entryway where the valets are stationed, he grabs my hand and tugs me behind him through a side hall, taking multiple turns until I can barely hear the party anymore.
One final turn has him reaching for a doorknob and pulling me into the room it guards after him. The door shuts, and before I can even make sense of where we are, I'm hauled backward, a hard chest to my back and an arm banded around my waist until he pivots and plants my back against the closed door. A hand lands on either side of my head, caging me in, and I finally get a good look at his face.
Ender’s eyes are wild, pupils blown so wide his eyes look black, the wolf mask suddenly the least predatory thing about his appearance. His chest heaves, big panting breaths like he just got back from a run instead of a party. His tie’s missing, the top button undone, how he usually wears his dress shirts, and I can see his pulse beating in his carotid artery. “Are you okay?” His rough voice sounds gravel-scraped.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Why weren’t you with Roman?” He sounds angry enough that I flinch on instinct. His fingers flex against thedoor, and he amends, “Why wasn’t Roman with you? He was supposed to stay with you.”
I swallow. “We danced, then your father cut in. He said he’d be waiting for the next one. I assumed that meant he’d be staying close in case I needed him.”
Ender swears, smacking his hand against the wooden door and making me jump. “Fuck!” he says again. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’ll deal with Roman later, but we can’t talk about Alec here. Did he hurt you?”
His eyes frantically scan over me while I say, “No, I’m fine. We were dancing and…” I consider how to answer his question while knowing we are likely being recorded right now and settle on, “When I decided I was done, I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me. I tried again, and he still wouldn’t let me go, so I was going to escalate the situation, but then you showed up.”
His head bobs once. “And Jonah?”
I shake my head slowly. “He squeezed my wrist. It hurt, but I’m okay.”
A growl rumbles out of him. “Show me,” he demands.
I slide the wrist in question up between us. He takes one hand off the door and gently rotates my wrist, looking it over for any sign of injury. “I’m fine,” I whisper, “see?”
Ender shakes his head. “He isn’t allowed to touch you like that.No oneis allowed to touch you like that.” He brings my wrist to his mouth, planting a kiss on the delicate skin under my palm.
My heart races in my chest, the close proximity of him while he’s like this sending electric heat thrumming through my veins. He’s possessive. Wild. Enraged at the thought of someone touching me in an insolent manner. I can take care of myself just fine, but it’s been a long time since I haven’t had to. I watch, entranced, while he presses kiss after kiss into the reddened skin, his wicked mouth skimming over the blueveins. “Most people who do don’t live for long after,” I say, my voice quiet and reedy.
My husband’s eyes snap to mine, a cruel smile blooming on his face. Dropping my wrist, he slides my mask up and off my face, tossing it unceremoniously to the floor before threading his fingers up through the hair on the back of my head. Tightening his grip, he tilts my head back, looking down at me. I slip his mask off, too, and finally come face-to-face with the wolf in the room.
His mask hits the floor, and he pulls me off the door by the fist in my hair and into his body. The hard length of his cock is hot against my belly. My mouth waters at the proof of his desire, and I shift, trying to find relief from the growing need between my thighs. Teeth flash as his smile turns predatory, knowing that, somehow, he’s the lone exception to the rule that most people who touch me don’t live for long after. “Jonah didn’t,” he growls, and then his mouth crashes into mine.
It wasn’t exactly a secret what Ender’s intentions were when he lured Jonah away from the party. I knew he was likely to at least break his fingers before sending him on his way. But hearing confirmation that he killed a man for daring to touch me without my permission is enough to make me whimper. Enough to have my hand sliding up into the soft waves of his hair and pulling him into me, keeping his lips flush against mine.
An unholy growl tears through him, and his lips part, deepening the kiss. His tongue delves into my mouth, taking what the scar on his wrist marks as his. He tastes like bourbon and damnation and the sweet burn of promises made to be broken.
His hand leaves the door and moves to the small of my back, palm skimming up the length of my exposed spine until it settles between my shoulder blades. The kiss grows frantic and consuming, brutality and need converging into everypoint of contact between us. I slip a hand between our bodies and palm his erection, only for him to growl and snatch my hand away. My back hits the door again, and my hand follows as it’s pinned next to my face. Black eyes bore into mine as Ender grinds out, “Don’t. You touch me like that, and I won’t stop. And we’re not doing that here.”
Here.
Alec's house.
