Page 33 of Tell Me Why
“There,” the voice from outside says. “Did you hearthat?”
“It’s coming from over there…”
Eve whimpers helplessly as my mouth finds her throat and I continue to work her pussy—the rhythm controlled, forceful. I’ve been watching her for weeks now and I already know her body better than she does, so I exploit that knowledge, applying more pressure to her clit, while using my free hand to pushing my index finger into her tight, puckered asshole.
With a quick intake of breath, she rises up onto the tips of her toes again, mouth open, eyes rolling back in her head. “Oh, my God,” she whispers. “Oh, fu?—”
Eve is mid-climax when the door is wrenched open to reveal two masked guys standing in the narrow doorway, light illuminating them from behind. I shift my body to shield Eve from them.
But the second the door is opened, she snaps out of her orgasm and jerks back. Frantically shoving at my chest, fingers splayed, trying to create distance between us. Her body is still trembling when I remove the candlestick and take a step back. But my body is still angled, so all they can really see is her face.
“Oh, fuck,” the first guy says.
“I guess I win,” I say with a smirk, more to her than to them.
She scowls at me.
“Damn,” the second guy says, pulling his mask off and turning away. “You guys can stop looking. She’s been found!” he calls out, clearly annoyed that he’d come so close only to discover he was still too late in the end.
He never really stood a chance.
My hand is drenched, and I use the handkerchief in my pocket to wipe it and the candlestick off quickly. A proper cleaning will have to wait. I place it back on the shelf and grab her arm, hauling her out of the closet, past the dining room, music room, and into the ballroom.
The lights cut back on. Everyone is already filtering in as we climb up onto the dias. Jackson and Ash are already in the room, and I lean over to whisper to Jackson. He takes Eve from me, holding her arm up. “Whoop!The kill!” he calls out according to tradition. “Found in the north wing by Christian West!”
The room erupts into applause, feet stomping, and loud, animalistic howls drowning out everything else.
Stepping forward, I take Eve from Jackson, my hand curled around her wrist. When the cheers quiet down, I address the room. “The hunt isn’t over. More foxes will be arriving shortly.” A fresh wave of cheers ripples through the crowd. “In the meantime, head to the kitchen and fuel up. The food and drinks have arrived.”
As everyone disperses, Jackson claps me on the shoulder. “You know, you could have saved yourself the trouble and just claimed her. You’re a Sacred Son. No one would have questioned you.”
“What’s the fun in that?” I say.
Besides, the theatrics of the hunt serve a purpose—we’re letting the guys blow off some steam while also making it clear who Eve belongs to.
Jackson’s gaze shifts to Eve, then back to me. “I assume you’re going to head upstairs and enjoy your prize. You gonna grab some grub first?”
“Nah,” I say. “If you see Austin, tell him to bring some food up.”
Jackson nods once. “You got it.”
Eve is quiet as we head to my bedroom. She doesn’t fight me, doesn’t argue, doesn’t demand to know what’s going on. She’s silent—toosilent—and it trips my spidey senses.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask as I head into the bathroom to wash my hands. When I come back out, she’s still standing in the middle of the room. She hasn’t moved, and more importantly, she hasn’t answered my question.
I stand directly in front of her and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s up with you?”
The fact that she’s not launching a string of curses at me is the first red flag. I take her by the arms and shake her gently. Her gaze shifts to me, to my face. “I hate you,” she says quietly.
Smirking, I release her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she bites out, pointing at me. “Since the moment I got here, all you’ve wanted to do is humiliate me.”
I have her wrist in my hand so quickly, she doesn’t even have time to blink. Her bone is so delicate. With just a little more pressure, I could snap it like a dry twig. It’d be best for everyone if she fucking remembered that.
“You have no fucking clue what I want,” I say, my tone low and threatening.
Her throat flicks. “You set up that whole circus downstairs. Why? What was the point?”
