Page 77 of Dangerous Deviance
“You can’t hold onto me forever,” he said, his tone pained. “You need to be able to be by yourself. To make your own decisions.”
And for once, I let myself feel it. The emptiness. The voice had stopped. The ringing was gone. And I wasn’t holding onto him anymore.
“I am,” I said.
He scowled at me. “This is fucked up, Ellie,” he said. “You were coerced into being here. It’s just like the Skyline Shift. All I’ve done is fucked everything up for you even more.”
“And I’m still here.”
I dared him to say more, to argue why I should have been running away. But the truth, honest to my soul, was that I wanted him. Even if the voice was gone. Even if the nightmares were repressed. Even if he was speaking his truth, I knew that there was a heart inside of him. A piece of his soul that wanted to protect me.
“I know what I want,” I said.
I stepped forward, putting a hand on the back of his neck, then kissed him, pressing our lips together firmly, letting him understand that everything I felt was real as our bodies. Even as his cock twitched against me, he let me kiss him, let me make a fool of myself as he resisted, because he wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t tell me with his lips that he felt that way too.
“Trust me, Wil,” I whispered. “This is it. This is just me.”
A sigh escaped his mouth, and finally, he pressed into mine, holding my back tightly against him. His mouth opened, and his tongue searched me for the answers. Warmth surged through me, tingling in my arms and face. Swooping me up by the ass, he carried me, bringing me to his bedroom, our tongues twisting with each other the whole time. He slammed me into the bed, then gazed down at me as he undressed. Lying against the mattress, I slipped out of my button-up shirt, gazing up at him. Dark hair. Sculpted shoulders and arms. A firm stomach. His lips open, waiting. A scar on his cheek, a mark from me. His brown eyes darkened then, but were always focused on me.
“You deserve better than me,” he said.
I wanted to shake him and scream that I needed to be able to make a damned decision for myself and that this was it.Thiswas what I wanted. But I reeled in the frustration, and spit out those same words again. To show him that he needed to believe me.
“I know what I want.”
He climbed on top of me, his strong arms pressing against me, his cock heavy and weighty on my thigh. He peered down into my eyes, seeing more than I could ever know.
Trust me, Wil, I thought, Please, trust me.
“You’re beautiful, Elena Jordan,” he said. “You know that?”
Tenderness crashed in waves through me. I put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into me, kissing him again. Letting it all go. Wil might have forced me to be his, but I knew he would do everything he could to find my sister. To help me let go of the past. To move on. To help me get through this mess we were both drowning in.
His cock penetrated my pussy, slow and hard, his eye contact never breaking from mine. His body rubbed against my clit. His hands held me, not holding me down like so many other times we had fucked, but held me up, supporting me. And for once, it didn’t matter where we were or what was going to happen. As long as we were like this, I could forget. Because it was this. Just me. Just him. Just this moment with Wil.
CHAPTER 20
Wil
Ellie had fallen asleep after we had sex. The selfish bastard that I am, I had woken her up a few times when she responded to my touch. The idea was that if I had enough orgasms or exhausted my body enough, I could fall asleep too. And while she fell asleep easily, I stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, at her. A light snore escaped her. I wanted to kiss her forehead, but I left her there. She trusted me, and hell, I wish I could trust her too. But I couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard I tried. No matter how hard we fucked.
The next morning, around four a.m, my phone buzzed. A burner number. It was probably Ethan. My stomach twisted, and Ellie turned over from hearing the vibration.
I answered the call. “Yeah?” I asked.
“That camp?” Ethan asked, purposefully keeping it vague, “It has about a hundred women. Maybe more.” I pushed myself up, sitting in bed. “All of them are going through the same training as her.”
I quietly let myself out of the room. Once I was alone, I asked: “Did you see the actual training?”
“I saw some of it. But I stayed away from the rest,” he said.
“What kind of training?”
“Beatings. Fighting each other too.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “A hundred women?”
“Maybe more,” Ethan said. “I’ll send you the address.”
