Page 93 of The Art of Obsession
“Everleigh…” Cal summons me, cupping my chin and luring my face to his. His gloved knuckles brush along my cheek, pulling up goosebumps.
“What is she saying?” he murmurs, tipping his brow to mine.
God, how does he do that? Always knowing when I’m dissociating, conflicted, trying to rationalize all this, make sense of it in my mind.
“I-I…I don’t know how to put it into words.”
“Try.”
“The way you look at me—it’s like you’re sculpting me with your eyes. Like you’re writing the ultimate love letter on my skin, my soul…in permanent ink. The exhibit is like this shrine. It’s a gilded cage. You could have kept me in a filthy cage, chained up like some broken bird. But…in some ways, you caged me even more. You make me powerless. Because I could never hurt anything in that beautiful room.” My voice cracks from my emotion, and the tears stream down my cheeks. Cal captures them with his fingertips.
“I should hate it. I should hateyou,” I spit out, but the guilt knots my throat, my stomach lining turning to rot. Because my fingers twitch, plotting my attack with the scalpel. “But you’ve tortured me in the most beautiful ways. And make me want more. And I hate you for it. But I hate myself more.”
He cups my face. “Don’t. Everleigh. There is nothing shameful about your desires, about the masterpiece I’ve unleashed within you. Only a true master could see the beautyand truth of your heart and soul.” He tilts my head, seducing me with his dark eyes, the scarlet glints inside them. “This is not love, Little Quill. It’s stronger. It’s obsession. It’s a fine art. The rarest kind. I found it the moment you stepped through the mist like a wondrous spirit with the quill in one hand and your leather journal in the other.”
Before I can fall apart, before he can lean in to kiss me and scramble my thoughts and my senses, I lift my chin and part my lips. “Something else. Um…I haven’t asked yet. I don’t know why. There’s so much speculation about it, but no real answers.”
He presses his lips into a soft smile. “You may ask me anything, Everleigh Lennox.”
“How old are you?”
He smirks, shaking his head and chuffing a laugh before deadpanning. “Old enough to rule you, young enough to fuck you.”
I roll my eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I’m twenty-eight. Is he forty? Younger? Older?
“I suppose it will remain a mystery. For now,” he chuckles darkly, thumbing my chin.
Cal kisses me. It’s a slow kiss, almost romantic but too possessive to be romantic. He’s so alluring, his dark masculine musk filling my senses. My limbs soften as I’m bewildered by the kiss, utterly seduced as his tongue traces the seam of my lips. He seeks, and I open, bowing to him. To my astonishment, I respond and meet his tongue in a slow, alluring dance. Twirling, licking, tasting, exploring.
He slides his hands to the small of my back, bringing me closer until I feel his hardness through his pants, grinding against my upper stomach.
A soft moan leaves my throat, echoing into his mouth.
Cal pulls back, his lips a breath above mine. “Everleigh,” he whispers. “Mine.”
“Yours,” I breathe.
I stiffen when he folds his hand into mine and gestures to the doors. “Come now. Time to go back inside.”
A bolt of fear fires through me. No matter how beautiful the exhibit is, I don’t want to go back underground. I don’t want to leave the chilled night air, the moon, and the stars. I want to see more. From this view, the grounds are beautiful with extensive gardens and sculptures. I want more.
And I…I don’t know if I have the courage to go back. It’s been over a month now. Despite having plenty of work to do, I’ve grown more anxious, longing to get outside. Now that I’m here, I don’t want to let it go. My past trauma with enclosed spaces returns to me with a vengeance, surging fire and ice through my blood.
I shake my head, pulling back. “Please, no. I don’t want to…I want to stay here.”
His dark eyes sharpen against mine. “Do not try my patience, Everleigh. I will do terrible, brutal things to you if you do not obey and return to the gilded cage I know you love.”
“Can’t we just go for a walk?” I plead, a Hail Mary while my fingertips curve to my pocket, envisioning how to seize a few more minutes of freedom—even if I know I will pay dearly for it.
“No. Not tonight.” He takes my other hand in his firm hold, claiming my chin with his other. “But if you submit and obey me now, I will show you a few more rooms in my estate before returning you to the exhibit. And I will stay with you tonight. I won’t rest until you are fast asleep and dreaming of me in your mind, in your blood.”
“Don’t take me back down,” I say through tears, the darkness of my past, of those horrible three days splintering through me like broken glass.
Stone walls. After twelve hours, the room feels smaller, the walls constricting, closing in around me. The stale air, mixedwith the scent of decay, will never fully leave my lungs. I’m never going to escape, am I? Never going to feel the free air or the sun on my face beyond the invincible bars of the only window in this…forever resting place. My muscles ache from curling up and sleeping against the stone coffin with the cold, dank floor beneath my body.
Evie! Evie!Cherry’s voice pierces the dark fabric of my trauma.Cal isn’t locking you away; he’s preserving you. Like the rarest artifact, you belong in a place where you are worshipped. Come on, you can do this. It’s not a cold, dark tomb. You’re not trapped, darling. You’re adored, and deep down, you know it.
But the walls close in. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I know is I can’t go back down.
