Page 12 of Twins for the Enemy

Chapter nine

~FARAH~

My back hits against the banister, but the pain barely registers. Every aspect of this mansion no longer exists. The only four walls are the heat between Kieran and me. The only ceiling is our exhales, building up like an oncoming storm.

My eyes flutter open as his tongue invades my mouth—fierce and demanding. His hands slide down to my ass, gripping it so tight it lifts me to my toes.

I’m higher than heaven, high enough that I know when I fall, I’ll break—but that’s a worthy price right now.

His hands slide down to my legs, his fingertips pressing against my inner thighs.

When I widen my stance, needing to press myself closer to him, he abruptly jerks my legs up.

I almost lose my balance as he lifts me to his waist, my head nearly hitting the wall before his hand on my back steadies me.

Adrenaline rushing through me, it takes me a moment to focus on his face. And it's a clash of emotions. His eyes are soft enough to be mistaken for kind, but his jaw is set with his upper lip barely curled up in the smallest snarl.

He lowers us, his knees settling on one of the lower steps.

He lays me down, the edge of the stairs digging into my neck, shoulders, and back.

I’m ready to sit up, annoyed at the discomfort, but his mouth quickly moves between my thighs, his hot breath sinking past the thin material of my underwear.

The slickness of my arousal soaks the thin fabric.

My body tenses, but the only part of me that moves is my legs widening.

He kisses the inside of my thigh, inhaling deeply, taking in my scent, sending a shiver through me. A slight flicker of his tongue sends a surge of desire through me.

The recklessness spirals inside me, and, for once, I give into it without feeling like I’m pretending to be somebody else.

The rage between us burns, adding to the desire. I’ll never let him have any part of me except this. He’ll never know anything about me except my body. And he knows it well.

The sound of my panties being ripped off is muffled by the sound of our ragged breath. Tossing my underwear aside, he catches my ankle in his hand.

He pins it down on the edge of the step.

While it’s hard enough to hurt—it reminds me that we hate each other—his tongue darts inside of me, quick movements like thoughts hitting all at once.

Two fingers push past my slit, an instant pressure as he stretches me.

A feral growl escapes his lips, a warning of how raw this is about to get .

My hips buck off of the stair trying to get closer to his face.

Quick, sharp tongue flicks to my sensitive bud has me pulling at his hair, my fingers tangled in a fierce grip.

I have never experienced anything like this.

All I can see is the top of his head as he licks and strokes my core.

He buries himself deeper, his mouth moving with relentless, possessive control.

I’m so close to the edge I can see stars.

Fingers pushing in and out of me, his tongue thrashing but sensitive with each stroke up my center.

Legs quivering, I’m thankful that I’m sitting as the most earth-shattering orgasm rocks me, my screams echoing in the empty foyer of the mansion.

He looks up at me, desire burning so hot in his eyes, it feels like a mutual torture. I need to recover, but I know there’s no time.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says, but before his words can linger, he rises over me. His pants are pulled down, and his size is overwhelming in every sense. Lifting me in a swift movement, I’m pushed against the wall, a moment of shock before he’s thrust himself fully inside me .

My fingernails dig into his arm. I pull myself up, meeting his thrusts, even as I can feel a line of bruises forming against the small of my back—a lingering punishment from the stairs.

As he rams into me, possessed as I am, I understand what he means.

There are some lines you can’t cross, and we’re moving so far past it, the only thing left is to regret it.

But not now. Not when I’m so close to breaking through a numbness I hadn’t known I was feeling.

He grips both of my thighs, pinning me against the wall like I weigh nothing. Every thrust is hard and deep, but maddeningly controlled—each one driving more breath from my lungs. I can feel the fury and need behind every stroke, like he's punishing everything that ever existed between us.

A flicker of fear runs through me, thinking of how alarming it is to not be in control, but he doesn’t leave any room to question it. With that level of command over my body, the fear is swallowed up by the intensifying satisfaction .

My legs are tense against his waist as another orgasm hits, a result of the direct pressure of him grinding hard against me. The explosion inside me feels like the world imploding, with all of the natural and feral beauty flashing through me.

He collapses into me, barely keeping himself from crushing me with his weight. His heavy breath hits against my shoulder while his shirt sticks to my sweat-drenched skin. He must have come, but I was too overcome to notice.

As I come back into my body, some of the aches become noticeable—my back, my wrists, my thighs. But it’s a good ache. It’s a souvenir.

Kieran slowly pulls himself off of me, zipping and buckling his pants. He doesn’t look at me.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Kieran says.

I look down at myself, naked on my kidnapper’s mansion stairs. I feel infinitely more naked now. The only thing stopping me from grabbing my underwear and rushing to pull them on is that I know how childish and emotional it would look—and the fact that they are in shreds at my feet.

“I agree,” I say. “It was a mistake.”

He nods once before pivoting off the bottom step and walking away. I focus on the physical aches now to distract me from the way my heart is clanging in my chest—a bell that won’t be answered.

It was foolish to let my hormones get the best of me. I should have learned the first time.

The overwhelming sensations made me feel like we were burning the whole world down, but the problem with annihilation is that it ends with me standing in the ashes, alone.

I pull on one of the long-sleeved shirts Kieran gave me.

It drapes on me like a white dress, the lowest button hitting between my thighs, the silky material contrasting with the soreness in my legs.

It’s been four days since we slept together, but while Kieran seems to have vanished into the ether, I can’t go downstairs without the feeling of heavy breath against my ear or a tight grip on my wrists.

I can’t eat without thinking about our dinner together, his hand around my arm as his thumb caressed my wrist.

I can’t sleep without remembering him placing the blanket over me—a gesture I overanalyzed into meaning I meant more than a body to get off with.

I can’t even wear his clothes without feeling his body heat, but I don’t have a choice when I’ll need to walk in the cold for a while before I find a taxi.

He never gave me a coat, and I can’t find one around the house. As I stop in front of the entrance doors, I wait for someone to jump out of the shadows and stop me. As I open them, I wait for a shrieking alarm to alert Kieran that I’m leaving. As I step out, I look around for surveillance cameras.

Nothing .

It should feel like freedom, but it feels more like I’m walking out of my house while forgetting my wallet or my phone.

I mean, I don’t have either of those, but it’s the sense that I’m forgetting something that I need.

It’s a colder walk than I expect to get to the gates. Even after I press the button to open the gates and start taking the sidewalk, it seems like all signs of life are banned around it. No squirrels, no people, no cars.

For the last few days, the cook would be prepared with meals like clockwork at 9 a.m., 12 p.m., and 5:30 p.m., but whenever I tried to talk to him, he answered in one-word replies.

I’d seen a glimpse of a housekeeper yesterday, but she could have been a lonely illusion because when I tried to find her a few seconds later, she was gone.

The only sign of life that didn’t feel hostile or imaginary was a deer that visited the stream in the backyard.

I always recognized it as the same one because it was missing the tip of its left ear.

I’d avoided giving it a name so I wouldn’t get attached, but seeing how lifeless this street is, I can’t stomp out the hope of seeing it.

I shiver, bundling Kieran’s shirt tighter around me. I should’ve layered another shirt underneath it. Another mistake to add to my never-ending list.

I hear a car before I see it. I duck my head low, letting my hair drape over my face. Kieran would notice it’s me right away, but if one of his house staff is looking for me, they may doubt themselves enough to pass by.

The car drives by. I catch a glimpse of a woman on her phone, her hands cheerfully flourishing. Not somebody looking for me.

As I cross a sidewalk, the city comes back to life with cars aggressively cutting each other off and people loudly talking on their phones.

In front of a corner store, I see the marigold yellow of a taxi. I run forward. I still had sixteen dollars from my work as a house cleaner. It’s just enough to get to Neal’s apartment .

When the taxi drops me off, it feels strange to see the apartment after more than two months.

Maybe Kieran’s mansion had turned me into a snob, but the building looks like it’s slowly collapsing on itself.

The metal door is covered with years of graffiti, while all the windows are covered in a greenish-gray film.

I have to wiggle the door handle at a few different angles before it opens. I plod up the stairs, abruptly feeling tired. I walk down the hallway until I reach room 204. I knock.

I listen to the scrambling of someone rushing to get up. The door jerks open.