Page 30 of The Art of Obsession

The detective nods. “Thank you for your time, Miss Lennox.” Then, he hands me a card. “If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to call.”

I murmur a thanks and close the door. As soon as the latch clicks, I slide down against it until the pressure of the butt plug reminds me of its unwelcome presence.

Groaning, I haul myself back to the couch and collapse, grabbing the remote. Horror movies it is—at least until the devil decides to grace me with his presence.

I moan,stirring out of the swirling pitch-blackness from the touch of leather brushing my cheek. I’m still lying on the couch, gripping the remote.

The last thing I remember was finishing the vodka, finishing the mocha, finishing the next movie before I finally crashed. Now, I have a splitting headache.

“You disappoint me, Little Quill. I expected better than?—”

I go ballistic. In one second, I’m Netflix zombie to a category five hurricane of thrashing limbs, flying fists, and screeches and curses through gritted teeth. Acheron growls and gets his arms around me, but I don’t stop kicking and crying, knocking over the coffee table and the ottoman.

“Calm down! For fucks sake!” Acheron snarls and slams me down onto the floor, pinning me there.

I land one solid kick to his jaw, and he rears up before the glinting pupils of his mask bear down on me, vowing retribution. I choke on a gasp, then double down, kicking and hitting and hurling all sorts of curses, ones I swear I didn’t even know, but I’m sure my subconscious pixie does.

“Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!” I scream at him right before he mounts me, his pelvis effectively pinning mine while he grips my wrists and holds them over my head. He’s so fucking strong, I can’t even buck.

My breath heaves and cleaves, my blood storming, my heart ricocheting in my chest as he leans down and says low in my ear, “Somebody needs a spanking from Master, doesn’t she?”

He realizes that’s not a punishment, right?Cherry laughs, and I imagine drop-kicking her ass.Ow!

“Spanking? Is that all you’ve got?” I spit, my arms writhing, head thrashing. “I expected better from the self-proclaimed God of Art. You think a spanking is punishment?” I rear up, stabbing my nose at his mask. “Try being interrogated by Detective Discount Columbo while wearing your chastity belt masterpiece.”

He pauses. Tilts his head. Our heavy gasps only seem to thicken the tension between us.

“What was that now?” he asks, his tone lifting with surprise and amusement.

“Yeah, Iliedfor you. While you were out playing Picasso, I was busy covering your ass with the police, you ungrateful jackass,” I huff and turn away, not wanting to focus on the gorgeous new mask he’s donned for tonight. More decorative. More intricate. The blood drops are always a theme, but this time, rubies are encrusted in sinuous, flowing patterns.

“Oh, Little Quill…”

The softening of his voice, the tension depleting in his shoulders, and his hands releasing me before he trails his fingers along my bare arms, summoning goosebumps…they’re all my undoing.

I fall apart. I break down. Hard.

A second later, I’m curled up into a ball, gripping his vest, and sobbing into his chest. His strong arms come around me, holding me close. And the raging boner does not escape me.

Cherry is singing “I Won’t Say I’m in Love” from Disney’sHercules…but only the Muses part, but the sound of my cries covers it up. Mostly.

“Mmm, there now,” Acheron says, stroking my hair.

“I hate you,” I mutter.

He chuckles, captures my jaw, and tilts my face up. My vision is blurry, but all I want to do is look away. Can’t face him. Because he can read everything.

“No, you don’t. You hate yourself, Everleigh Lennox, because youdon’thate me. And that eats you up.” He rubs his lips along mine, and I shiver. “Do not deny your desires, sweet girl. Do not shame them either. Today proved you know who you belong to.”

“Today proved I’m crazier than a BookTok girl defending her favorite morally gray villain while ignoring all his red flags.”

Oh, honey,hums Cherry,we need to get you a mug that says ‘It’s not a red flag. It’s a love language’.

Acheron chuckles darkly again, and I moan, “Please take it off. And take the other thingout!” When he narrows his eyes, I blink back tears and whisper, “Please?”

14

“Why did you choose me?”