Page 30 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Arabella

Shit. I’d fallen asleep.

Jerking up, I realised I was still on the chaise lounge in Sebastian’s studio, a thick blanket draped over me. Paint covered me in slashes, various colours expertly smeared across my skin. It looked stunning in the daylight, the early morning sun streaming in to highlight the colour.

Rubbing my eyes I glanced around, finding I was alone. Not that I was surprised. Sebastian had made me come twice more on his fingers, watching me with an intensity each time as he played with my body. As if he was memorising every twitch of my muscle and sound that he could draw my throat.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember him picking me up, my body exhausted, and laying me down before returning to his painting. Swinging my legs over, I stood, my body aching as I turned toward the canvas.

I expected it to be slashed, destroyed like all the others that decorated the floor of the studio.

But this one wasn’t. Hesitantly, I reached forward, my fingers brushing across the surface.

It was of me, head thrown back mid orgasm in shades of red and pink, with a splash of blue.

Parts of my face had been smeared, across my eyes, and my bottom lip, as if he’d used his thumb to rub across it.

Then there was the background, black, as if the endless night was trying to swallow me whole. It was both harrowing and beautiful.

Clenching my jaw I grabbed my pyjamas, shoving them on before making my way to my room. Chip stood in the hall, his attention darting to the paint on my face.

“Mum asks whether you want to join us for breakfast,” he said, his tone cold.

“Thank you,” I replied, wanting to cover myself up. “I’ll be there soon.”

His nod was polite, almost disappointed, and then he stormed past towards the direction of the kitchen. I took a moment, my heart pounding and my stomach twisting. Fighting the burning across my cheeks, I slammed my bedroom door behind me, then immediately went to the bathroom.

I caught my reflection in the mirror, staring at myself covered in colour. I thought he’d just been obsessively applying the paint, but now I realised he was using the natural curves of my body to exaggerate my silhouette.

But now it was itchy, flaking with every movement. I needed it off.

Reaching into the shower, I turned the water to scorching and stepped beneath the stream. My body protested the heat, but still I washed everything away, scrubbing along my arms, through my hair and even the stickiness between my thighs.

My pussy was sore, aching from the way he’d used me. Groaning, I pressed my forehead against the cool tile, allowing the heated water to beat my shoulders.

Maybe you did it because you like to be punished?

“Arsehole,” I whispered, fisting my hands .

I’d made the choice to search for Sebastian, fully aware of the consequences. Maybe he was right, maybe some twisted part of me wanted to be caught. To be punished. At least then I’d feel something instead of this constant numbness pressing down on me.

All I wanted was to curl into a ball and disappear, but even that felt out of reach.

I’d gone from living on edge, constantly bracing for the next mess my father would leave me to clean up, to being locked in a gilded cage.

From chaos to control.

One extreme to another.

And still, I was stuck. Lost.

I needed to talk to Sebastian and drag this debt out into the open, lay it bare so I could finally understand what I owed and figure out how long it would be until I could breathe again.

Scrubbing the remainder of the paint, which really didn’t want to come off, I stepped out to give myself a minute. To think about my choices before I was crushed beneath the guilt.

Dressing, I grabbed one of the new paperbacks and went up to the mezzanine to be greeted by a cheerful Beatrice and a stoic Chip.

“There you are, come, be our guest,” she chirped, excitedly showing off a tray of fresh scones she’d set up on one of the short tables. “Sebastian’s had to pop out to deal with something, but he’ll be home soon, I’m sure.”

She began to pour some tea, humming gently to herself.

“What does Sebastian do, exactly?” I asked, taking a seat and placing my book down.

Beatrice didn’t miss a beat. “He’s a businessman, dear.” She concentrated on the tea.

“No, I mean what does– ”

“He was such a peculiar little boy, always up to mischief,” she interrupted, finally looking up to smile. “Cutthroat in everything he does.”

Wait, was that a threat?

Chip sat rigidly beside me, his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

“Now, let’s talk about you,” Beatrice continued, taking a seat on the sofa opposite. “Such a fascinating little addition to this family. Sebastian isn’t one to bring anyone home, especially someone like you.”

I was taken aback by the slight hostility in her gaze, but it was quickly hidden beneath a gentle smile. So fast I must’ve imagined it. “What do you mean someone like me?”

“She’s here to spread her legs,” Chip commented, the words delivered without an ounce of emotion.

I expected Beatrice to gasp or even scold him. But she simply sat there, waiting for me to comment. When I didn’t, Chip stood, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“Your father’s fine, if you still care.”

I froze for a second, blood rushing to my face. But Chip was already gone before I could reply, disappearing down the spiral staircase to the floor below.

“Ignore him, dear. He has problems communicating and expressing himself sometimes.” Beatrice cleaned up Chip’s space, her head dipped as she wiped excessively over the table. “You’ll do Sebastian some good. He’s made his inner circle impenetrable, and here’s you, infiltrating it.”

“Enough,” Sebastian growled, and I jumped, accidentally knocking over my tea. I didn’t even hear him enter the room.

“Shit.” I reached for a tissue, dabbing at the spill.

Beatrice stood abruptly. “Sir, I didn’t realise–”

“You’re dismissed, Mrs Potter.”

Beatrice’s shoulders tightened, her lips thinning. “Of course. I meant no harm.” Picking up her cloth she held her head up, passing Sebastian, only to pause. They exchanged a few words I couldn’t hear, so I returned to cleaning the spill.

I felt him hover beside me, the tension stretching taunt between us.

“Read to me,” he said once we were alone, my head jerking up at the demand.

“Good morning to you, too,” I muttered, tossing the tissue into the bin. “Does reading to you count toward paying off my debt?”

“Maybe.” He lounged back in the chair opposite me, legs spreading wide, taking up more space than his already overwhelming presence demanded.

A frustrated sound escaped me, Chip’s silent judgment enough to set my nerves on edge. “How much have I worked off?”

Sebastian didn’t flinch. He just stared, eyes locked on mine. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I sputtered in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You should’ve set the terms when we first made the deal.”

“I was under duress!” I snapped, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. “How is it possible I haven’t paid off a single thing?”

Sebastian leaned in, gaze ice-cold and cruel. “You think offering your throat clears even a fraction of what your father owes? Belle, I decide when the debt is paid, not you. It could be next week. Next year. Or maybe not at all.”

“You’re such an arsehole.” My pulse pounded behind my ribs, adrenaline surging through me like wildfire. “This was never a life sentence, Sebastian.”

He straightened his cuffs with deliberate calm, infuriatingly composed while I wanted to scream. “I told you,” he said, voice flat and cold, “I’ll decide when the debt is paid. Until then, do as you’re fucking told.”

My hands curled into fists. “This is bullshit! I want it written down; every act of service I do should go towards the money.”

His jaw twitched, just slightly as he closed the distance between us, forcing my head to lean back. “You’re not in a position to demand anything.”

I refused to back down. “You don’t get to own me and keep me in the dark. That’s not control… that’s… that’s cowardice.” I winced as the word came out, expecting his anger in return.

For a second, the silence between us drew tight.

I held my breath when he leaned down, his lips hovering so close to my own.

“Be careful, belle . You’re acting like you want to be punished.

” He took a step back, and my breath came out in a ragged exhale as he took a seat on the sofa.

“Last warning, don’t make me ask again.”

He wore his usual armour of his black-on-black suit, his hair pushed away from his face to reveal dark circles beneath his eyes. Those tattoos that I wished I could explore in more detail peeked through the collar, as were the scars I didn’t get the chance to memorise.

“You want me to read to you?” I finally asked, and Sebastian simply nodded before closing his eyes, settling himself deeper into the seat. “Why?”

“Can you ever follow an order without questioning it?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from snapping back, because that would only prove his point. Clearing my throat, I opened my new book to the first page and started to read aloud. Sebastian relaxed, the tension along his shoulders dissipating chapter after chapter.

I couldn’t even concentrate on the story, so hyperaware of the man who sat opposite me. Something about a prince being cursed by an old woman.

I didn’t know how long I read out loud, but when I looked up, his breathing was slow and gentle. He hadn’t moved an inch, his head resting on his shoulder and his lips open slightly. He looked peaceful, even approachable.

I quietly closed the book, placing it on the table before leaning forward to check him, only for his hand to snap out.

I squeaked as fingers wrapped around my throat, the sudden shock forcing my survival instinct to kick in.

I lashed out, managing to knock his jaw before he flipped me onto my back, his body hovering above.

Panic forced me to react, and I twisted and fought with all my energy, scratching along his arms and wriggling beneath his grip.

Sebastian frowned down at me, blinking.

“Why did you stop reading?” he rumbled, his grip tightening slightly when I managed to bite him.

I took a minute to calm down, my pulse racing. “I thought you were asleep.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. “I don’t sleep.”

“Everyone sleeps.” I tried to wriggle, realising I was stuck. “Can you let me go?”

His frown deepened. “Why?”

“Because you’re crushing me.” He actually wasn’t; he was clearly trying not to touch me anywhere but his fingers on my throat.

“You weren’t complaining last night.”

The urge to hit him again turned my muscles to stone, but I resisted because he was several times my size, and that would probably be stupid.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked instead, because I was a diplomat and would really like to not be stuck under his body for the rest of my arguably short life. Unless it was for other things.

No. What was wrong with me?

Stop thinking about his dick.

“You show all your emotions on your face,” he scolded, and if I wasn’t blushing before, I sure as fuck was now. “It’s inconvenient.”

“You’re inconvenient.”

Great. Honestly, I disappointed myself sometimes.

Sebastian clenched his jaw and then released me so I could ungracefully roll out from beneath him.

“So… what did Beatrice say to you?” I stood, needing to create distance.

“Beatrice?” he repeated, his voice a deep tone that caressed my skin as he followed. “You’re getting too close to my staff. You’ll address her as Mrs Potter.”

“I’m just curious.” And bored. “It’s not like I have anything else to do around here.” I pressed myself tight against the wall, his larger frame cornering me as he planted his hands on each side of my head.

“You’re not here to be curious.”

“No, I’m here to be your toy.”

There was a pause, then Sebastian slowly leaned forward. “You’re playing a dangerous game with me . ” The threat danced between us, and for some reason it sent a thrill through me.

I’d have to make sure I wrote this down in my notebook later. To try and figure out where in my childhood it all went wrong. Which was a joke, because my entire childhood was a mess.

“It’s Ara. Not belle . That’s not even part of my name.”

“Why are you here, Arabella?” he growled, the air vibrating with tension .

“To save my father.”

“The same father who doesn’t give a shit about you? Who gave you over like some common whore to save his own arse? Try again. Why are you here?”

My pulse beat against the side of my throat. “I don’t know what you’re asking. Why else would I be here if it’s not to save my father?”

“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 are you here, 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.”