Page 50 of Among the Sins of my Father

“You’d do well to remember this feeling, Ev. It’s rather terrifying, is it not? No control over your body. No control over what I could do to you. You can fight this for as long as you want, but remember I have my ways. You are mine, Everly. You belong to me. You always have.”

He brushes away another tear before reaching down and using it as moisture to rub over my clit. He rubs, just staring deeply into my eyes before lifting his hand and placing his finger into my mouth forcing me to taste myself.

Every one of his touches has been gentle.

None of them have brought pain.

And yet this has been more terrifying, more aggressive than anything I’ve known.

He takes his finger out of my mouth and cups my cheek. “I promise never to do this again, okay? Unless you provoke me. Unless you can’t see that we belong together, that you are mine. Do we have an understanding?” Michael asks. “Blink if we have an understanding.”

I blink. Because I’m scared not to. I’m scared of what he might do.

And then he presses his mouth to mine. My lips are dead under his, but it doesn’t seem to worry him. He kisses me gently and softly, sliding his tongue into my mouth. He grinds against me, his body pushing mine into the cushion. He’s heavy, crushed against my chest.

“Just remember I love you.” Letting out a low whistle, he gets up and lights a cigarette. “That was intense,” he says as he leans against the window, smoke billowing into the air. I remain unable to move, unable to speak, unable to fight.

“I’m a patient man.” He pulls himself away from the wall, coming to stand over me. “But my patience won’t last forever.” As he sucks in poisoned air, ash falls from the tip and lands between my breasts. Michael looks at it, head cocked to the side and adjusts himself, the outline of his hardness obvious. He sucks on the cigarette again, flicking it when the ember appears and watches as it falls. It burns when it hits my skin, but I can’t brush it away. He watches it until the ember fades.

“I think we’d make the perfect team. I want you on my side. So I’ll expect you to be more accommodating in the future.” And then he walks back into his room, leaving nothing but a puff of smoke behind him.

My tears fall freely then, unhindered by his touch. They run down my cheeks and soak into my hair. Stars blur above. Music floats through the open window. The cool breeze caresses my flesh and toys with my hair, lifting strands and sweeping them across my face.

I close my eyes to the tranquillity of the world.

Jericho grasps my chin between his fingers. His cock lies hard and heavy between my breasts. His eyes glimmer with darkness as his grip deepens to the point of bruising. His chest heaves with unfulfilled lust. The feathers on his chest dance.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleads.

I shake my head, fighting against the grasp of his fingers. His hold falters and slips. Now it’s around my throat, cutting off my supply of air.

“Tell me to stop.” There’s desperation in his eyes.

I push against him, sparks of need firing throughout my body. Black tugs at the edges of my vision, tunneling in on him and blocking everything else out. I struggle to breathe and yet I don’t resist him. He gives me everything I crave, everything I need.

“Tell me to stop!” His voice breaks but the grasp of his fingers only gets harder.

The lust coiled so tightly inside me suddenly releases, lashing against my chest and causing a million shards of delirium to shatter throughout my body.

“Stop,” I cry out, my body exhausted from the rippling rapture.

And he does.

chapter nineteen

BERKLEY

The world is drenched in the gray of pre-dawn before I can finally muster the energy to pull myself up from the cushion. The movement of my body came back gradually. First it was only my fingers, then my arms, my toes and my feet, until finally I was able to pull myself to my feet. My flesh is dotted in goose bumps, cold and numb from the breeze which plummeted with the night. My legs shake. I grip onto the window in order to drag myself inside.

The lights are still on, the music is still playing, and Michael is passed out in the bed. He sleeps contently, as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. I scan the room, desperate for some sort of weapon to use against him, but even as I do it, I know it’s pointless. I’ve never felt so weak and so powerless as I do right now. Not even when my body was frozen. Then, I had no choice. He was in control. But now, my body responds to my commands but yet I’m still unable to fight against him.

Michael rolls over, eyes fluttering open. His blond hair is tousled delightfully as though it has no idea of the brute whose head it resides on. His lips are soft and pink. His eyes are brilliant blue, if not a little bleary. He pats the bed absently. “Come to bed.”

There’s no apology. No acknowledgment of the nightmare he’d just put me through. I turn, dragging my body across the room to the beanbag on the floor but Michael’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“I thought we had an understanding?” His voice belies his words. It’s soft and gentle. Sweet and affectionate.

He lifts the covers, raising his brows. I almost stumble as I make my way over and slide beneath the blankets. His arm drapes over me and pulls me close. He tucks his chin into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply.

---