Page 62 of Blood and Thorns

“Wrong again.” Sebastian stepped closer but still left a cushion of space between our bodies. “Why are you here?”

“Does it even matter?” I tried to make myself appear more confident. Clearly I failed, but at least I’d tried. “You accepted the swap. It’s done, and now my father’s safe and I’m here, rotting away in your–”

“Why areyouhere, Arabella?”

“Because I don’t want to think anymore!” I cried out, the words a rush that I couldn’t stop. “Here I don’t have to be constantly on edge, waiting for when Dad inevitably fucks up.”

Sebastian had taken away my autonomy, and right now I liked it. Even as the walls around me crumbled at the loss of all my control, I found peace in his demands. It was then that I could turn my mind off and finally relax. Not be constantly on edge.

And now I was disappointed in myself, because I’d chosen this to save my father, not to save myself.

I flinched when Sebastian’s thumb caught a single tear down my cheek.

“God, what’s wrong with you?” I recoiled, pressing further against the wall.

His hands clenched. “Many things, but right now it’s because my cock isn’t buried in your tight throat. Shall we change that?”

I shook my head, shrinking back.

“Then stop testing me.”

“What do you want from me?” I whispered.

He scowled down at me, his voice husky when he finally answered. “Everything.”

Chapter 28

Sebastian

Arabella was mine. She’d melted beneath me so beautifully, and I’d taken great pleasure in smearing her perfect lips with my paint and cum.

She was like a walking piece of art, and I was going to enjoy using her.

Reluctance did nothing for me, not when I had women throwing themselves like whores, begging to go to their knees. They wanted to tame me. Fix me like I was broken.

Arabella was different, she saw me fractured, my mind at the edge of sanity, and didn’t run. Her body responded to my rough touch, begged for it as she shattered around me several times. Even if I could see a stubbornness in those golden-brown eyes that made me want to punish her.

She was like a challenge, but even as she submitted to me, she seemed to be holding a small piece of herself back. But I wanted it all, craved it.

The women I usually fucked were just a physical release, nothing more, and nothing less. I went because my body required it, but I felt just as empty after as I did before. Even those women, the ones who liked the pain,would scream seeing me at my worst, when my nightmares and demons howled too loud.

Arabella had fucking screamed too, but only because my fingers were forcing pleasure.

I glanced to my left, unable to look away from her new choker, which did a great job of hiding the marks I’d left on her throat.

She was bored, and I’d clearly neglected her by leaving her alone for too long.

You need to be more wary of her, Sir.Mrs Potter’s words circled around my head, and I definitely should fire her. She’d become too attached, overstepping if she believed she had any right to speak to me so casually.

Arabella turned from where she’d been staring through the car window, finding me watching her. She didn’t look away, instead raising an eyebrow. Clicking a button on the door, I put up the partition so I was alone with her before pulling her onto my lap.

She froze as my hand found the slit in her dress, but she didn’t stop me, knowing not to touch me in return. It was different if I initiated it, and I found I enjoyed her weight because it gave me easier access to the soft skin of her thighs.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice reminding me of how gentle it had been earlier, how I almost fell asleep just from her reading.

I was going to make her do it often, before I painted her skin and then fucked her throat.

“Do you understand your role?” I asked instead.