Текст книги "Vicious secrets"

Автор книги: Morgan Bridges

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 46DELILAH

Ican feel Xavier.

My subconscious, as well as the rest of me, recognizes his presence. I don’t need a physical touch or sound to know when he’s near. His scent invades my senses, his energy prickling at my awareness.

Even in my dreams, where the darkness is complete and the silence deafening, he’s there. He’s the voice calling to me from the abyss.

“Little raptor...”

His words are a low hum, coaxing me to answer. To respond. I want to, but there’s something off about his energy.

“Open your eyes,” he says, his tone more forceful.

My lips part on a breath, and I obey his command. My eyelids flutter, but all I see is darkness. Until I locate him sitting in a chair across the room.

I don’t move. I can’t. Not when I fully take in the look on his face. A man shouldn’t be this beautiful. Especially since he looks like he wants to kill someone.

And he’s holding a knife.

There’s something almost hypnotic in the motion of his fingers as he tosses the blade from one hand to the other. Back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum, marking each second with an unspoken threat. Then he throws it up in the air and catches it by the handle. The knife glints menacingly, a silent testament to the danger Xavier embodies. It’s intimidating, reminding me of the world he comes from.

The summons he just finished.

I lie there with adrenaline flowing through me like lava, heating my veins, while his gaze holds me captive. I swallow the nerves gathering in my throat and force myself to speak, if only to break through the tension.

“When did you get back?”

Xavier doesn’t answer. He rakes his gaze over me, his silver eyes bright even in the shadows.

“Did something happen?” I ask, trying again.

He remains silent and continues to look at me. His intensity, as usual, is unnerving.

“Xavier, are you okay?”

“Not even close,” he says, his tone rough.

“What’s wrong?”

“You.”

I scramble into a sitting position and hold the comforter to my chest. Although, nothing can remove the feel of his gaze from my skin. Even from across the room, it’s like a physical touch.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

Xavier stops tossing the knife, catching it one last time. He shifts in the chair, and I stiffen, thinking he’s going to come toward me. Instead, he places his forearms on his thighs and lets his hands rest in the opening between his legs, the knife hanging from his fingertips. It’s a casual pose, but not with him. He’s a predator ready to attack, his muscles going taut under his clothing.

He’s wearing his customary black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and boots. I scan his body for signs of injury or illness but find nothing to indicate he’s unwell. It only makes this conversation more bizarre.

“Your behavior is a problem, Delilah.”

I purse my lips. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You’ve been fraternizing with crows.”

His eyes flicker to the door and then my throat. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. In the dim lighting, I could’ve imagined the way he pointedly looked at my neck like he knows what Eric did to me. If Xavier does know, it’s not because I told him.

“And if I was?” I ask, my irritation rising to the surface.

He rises from the chair like a wraith from the mist. I wait for his reprimand, but he suddenly pivots and throws the knife. It slices through the air and finds its mark in the crest above the fireplace. The blade is buried deep inside the crow’s head, embedded into the wood, the handle quivering from the force of the impact.

The skill and control is impressive, but it’s also a warning, a silent message of what he’s capable of.

I jump at the display of violence, my eyes widening and darting between Xavier and the knife. He turns back around to face me, his expression blank, but his eyes gleam with rage.

“You deliberately went to Benjamin after I told you not to,” he says.

I lift my chin. “He’s family. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Do you know what crows do, little raptor? They lie, steal, and kill.”

“Well, maybe you should convince me that you want me as a bride instead of letting someone else do it.”

Without a word, Xavier stalks toward the bed and reaches out to snatch the blanket. He rips it from my body, leaving me exposed in nothing except his t-shirt and my panties. After gripping the headboard, he straddles my hips, his chest brushing mine.

My breathing halts when he snatches my jaw and lifts my head, forcing my gaze to his. “Who’s doing the convincing, Delilah?”

“Ben.”

His expression darkens. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. He’s the one who said you wouldn’t trade me for another bride.”

His gaze narrows. “Why would you think that?”

I bite my lip as my jealousy bleeds all over my heart, painting it green. Xavier’s silver eyes glint with something carnal before he uses his thumb to pull my bottom lip from between my teeth.

“Stop fucking distracting me,” he says. “Why would you think I’d want to trade you?”

“Brenda.” Although his body is pressed to mine and his fingers are on my skin, her name is a wedge between us.

“What did she tell you?” he asks.

“That you two have history.”

“And you believed her? She’s an addict.”

I shrug. “I saw you guys leave the garden library together. I saw the way she looked at you and heard the way she said your name. She wants to be your bride.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “If I wanted her, she’d be mine.”

Profound relief sweeps through me like a cool breeze. I hate myself for it. I could lie to myself and say it’s because I’m scared to be Eric’s bride, but I know it’s more than that.

I don’t want Xavier to give me up.

He makes me feel things I’ve never experienced. He is like a drug, making me high on his touch and addicted to his praise. I don’t know how to stop myself from wanting him.

“Well, Brenda didn’t get the message,” I say.

“I don’t give a fuck what she wants. And you shouldn’t either. Right now, you need to be concerned with what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“So many things… but you can start by telling me what happened last night.” He tightens his hold on me. It’s not enough to hurt me, but it gets my attention. “If you’re planning on lying to me, don’t.”

“If you already know, then why the hell are you asking me?”

“Because I want to hear it from you.”

My heart pounds furiously in my chest, drowning out my shallow breaths. I’m not sure if Xavier wants me to tell him about Eric assaulting me or that I hung out with Ben and got drunk. Both things are sure to piss him off. Well, more than he already is.

“I got drunk,” I say, choosing the lesser of the two evils. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Xavier doesn’t move. His breathing remains even and his gaze steady. If it weren’t for the slight clenching of his jaw, I wouldn’t know he’s affected by what I said.

“You put yourself at risk,” he says. “If anything were to happen to you…”

He slides his fingers from my jaw, across my cheek, and weaves them through my hair. He grips the strands until I gasp from discomfort. And arousal.

With his free hand, he traces my lips, one then the other. “What to do about your disobedience…”

I glare up at him. “If you want an apology, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Oh, I’ll be coming, all right.” He abruptly releases me and slides from the bed. Standing with his legs shoulder-width apart and his arms crossed, he watches me. “Get up.”

The look is a silent warning that has a shiver running through me. Xavier watches the tremor, and a slow smile spreads across his face. My throat goes dry.

“Now, Delilah.”

His firm tone has heat pooling in my lower belly. I climb out of the bed, careful not to touch him. Because the minute I do, my body will take over, and it’ll surrender to him.

“On your knees, bride.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “What are you going to do?”

“Fuck your mouth. Unless you prefer I take that tight pussy of yours? Given the mood I’m in, I’ll wreck it.”

“Xavier, wait.” I fist my hands by my sides, my body trembling. I can’t discern if it’s from anticipation or unease. “Why are you doing this?”

“I warned you that you’d learn exactly what happens when you don’t listen to me. And you said, ‘can’t fucking wait.’”

He takes a step forward, backing me up against the edge of the bed. His body crowds mine, and his scent wraps around me, overwhelming my senses. He lowers his head until his mouth is next to my ear.

“You still looking forward to getting fucked, Delilah?”

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Chapter 47DELILAH

Idig my nails into my palms, indecision warring within me. Xavier can overpower me in an instant, but does that mean I shouldn’t fight him? The truth is I don’t want to.

Xavier wanting me is something I can’t walk away from.

When I sink to my knees, his gaze flares with lust. “That’s my good girl,” he says, his voice rough.

Now my eyes widen. His praise is a reward, a small dose of his affection, and the way it affects me is a weakness. It makes me crave his approval.

I swallow the nerves gathering in my throat and stare up at him, unsure what he expects of me. Embarrassment, along with excitement, heats my face. He’s aware of my innocence, but I have no idea if he knows about my inexperience when it comes to this type of thing.

He unbuckles his belt, and my eyes track the movement. After pushing his pants and briefs down, his cock juts forward. It’s long, thick, and hard. The tip glistens, and my eyes widen further.

Xavier’s gaze drops to my mouth. “You’re going to learn to obey me.”

“Or what?”

He wraps a hand around his cock and strokes the length of it from base to tip, ever so slowly. I stop breathing at the erotic sight. It makes me want to touch him, to be the one gripping him.

He smirks. “Or I'm going to fuck this mouth of yours until it says what I want to hear.”

Xavier steps forward and brushes the tip of his cock against my mouth. He paints my lips with his pre-cum and then traces my cheek with his fingers.

“You’re mine, Delilah. Mine to take. Mine to keep. Now, open, pretty girl.”

When I open my mouth, he slides inside, a groan escaping him.

“Fuck.”

Xavier thrusts slowly, going deeper each time, until I gag. His hand goes to my hair, and he grips the strands to the point of pain. It only intensifies the sensations coursing through me. My pussy flutters the second I imagine his cock inside me instead of in my mouth.

“You’re going to have to learn how to take me deeper.”

He increases his speed, and I grip his thighs, digging my nails into his skin.

“Look at me,” he rasps. “Let me see your eyes while I fuck this pretty mouth.”

My gaze flicks upward, and he stares down at me, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of lust and reverence.

“So fucking beautiful.”

Xavier’s praise has my arousal spiking and my pulse quickening. I moan, and the sound vibrates around his length. He throws his head back, his jaw clenched.

“Do that again.”

I oblige, and he fucks my mouth faster. My eyes water, and I gag as he hits the back of my throat. He pauses and eases back before doing it again.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Such a good girl for me.”

When I whimper, his entire body tenses. His grip on my hair tightens, and his thrusts become erratic. I relax my throat, letting him go as deep as possible. Xavier fucks my mouth with a savagery that steals my breath, his control slipping as he chases his pleasure.

In this position, on my knees with him towering over me, I’m the one in control. He needs me for his pleasure. Knowing I’m the reason he’s going to orgasm is a high that I’ve never felt before. To have this powerful man at my mercy is intoxicating. Now I understand why he made me come during the Bride Hunt.

“I’m going to come in your mouth,” he growls. “But you’d better not fucking swallow.”

His words are like a bolt of lightning straight to my clit. My nipples tighten, and I moan, wanting more. I need to come almost as much as he does.

Xavier pumps his hips, his cock pulsing as he empties into my mouth. It’s hot and salty. When he pulls out, the cum dribbles out of the corner of my mouth.

He slides his finger underneath the collar of my shirt, the movement silencing me. He studies my mouth with an intensity and a hunger that makes my body tremble, but I remain still. The air is charged with electricity, and my body vibrates with awareness.

“Take your shirt off,” he says.

I hesitate because I have nothing underneath. By the time I remove his shirt and cover my breasts, he’s put his cock back in his pants. I don’t have time to be disappointed because he yanks me to my feet. When he speaks, his voice is rough with lust. With dominance.

“Open.”

He slides his thumb along the seam of my mouth and presses it to my tongue. Xavier’s eyes flicker as he watches me. I can only stare up at him.

He sweeps his thumb through the cum pooling in my mouth before going to stand behind me. He takes my hair and places it over one shoulder. Then he drags his thumb over the skin of my back just under my neck.

I don’t move, and I can’t talk because I have his cum in my mouth. He occasionally dips his finger inside to coat it before drawing on my back again. The cum begins to dry by the time he’s standing in front of me.

“Now you can swallow.”

I do. “What did you⁠—”

He tweaks my nipple, and I groan. Xavier grins, and his eyes sparkle with something dark and wicked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

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Chapter 48DELILAH

That evening…

“Once we’re inside the chapel, don’t say a word unless I give you permission to speak.”

Xavier’s sharp tone has me frowning at him. “Why?”

“Every recruit and leader of the founding families will be at this ceremony. These men are the most dangerous in the world. If you piss them off, you’ll get us both killed.”

“Both of us?”

He stops in the stairwell and looks down at me. With him wearing his mask, I can’t see anything except his eyes, but they glitter with emotion.

“Yes, both of us,” he says. “If anyone threatens you, I’ll kill them, and we’ll be outnumbered. I’m not easy to kill, but I’m not invincible either.”

The seriousness of his tone and the gravity of his words leaves me speechless. My reaction isn’t purely based on the danger that lies at the top of the tower. It’s because of Xavier’s promise to protect me, even to his detriment.

His dedication to me and preserving my life leaves me awestruck. A warmth gathers in my chest and encases my heart, making it beat a little faster. For him.

I nod to show my understanding, and we resume our ascent of the granite steps. The hem of my skirt drags behind me, the fabric whispering against the cold stone. The dress is a masterpiece of design and craftsmanship, a combination of elegance and sensuality. Its shade is a midnight blue, almost black like Xavier’s clothing in the dim light of the stairwell.

The bodice is fitted, adorned with intricate black lace that snakes across the neckline, outlining the mounds of my breasts. The gown is sleeveless and leaves my arms bare, as well as my upper back. Xavier demanded that I style my hair in an updo to keep it off my shoulders.

His dried cum remains scrawled across my skin, a secret between us. I assume it’s part of his “lesson” from this morning, and I can’t find the energy to care. Not when every time I think of his cock in my mouth, I become aroused.

Beneath the expensive fabric cascading in a flood of silk and shadow, my legs tremble from the steep climb and my sensual thoughts. The material of the skirt brushes against my thighs and calves with every step, the heat trapped underneath a contrast to the cool air of the castle. Xavier left me with the need to come, my body stimulated and my mind full of him all day.

His warning to remain silent is enough to calm my arousal, but not erase it completely.

I sneak a glance at him, drinking in the man beside me. He’s dressed entirely in black per his usual, the color accentuating the mystery and elusiveness that I’ve come to associate with him. His mask hides his expression, making it impossible for me to gauge his thoughts, but his hand gripping mine tells me of his desire to keep me close.

His stride is confident and steady the entire way. Once the door comes into view, he stops and turns to face me. I wait, the hairs on my arms lifting with apprehension.

“Don’t look anyone directly in the eyes,” he says. “They’ll see it as defiance or an invitation. Keep your head bowed and your gaze on me.”

“Okay.”

He reaches out to grab the nape of my neck. He pulls me closer, his breath skimming my lips. “I mean it, Delilah. I wont’t hesitate to punish you again, but this time I’ll fuck your sweet cunt.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hiss.

“Considering we’re about to walk inside a chapel, I think that’s the right mindset.”

Without letting me go, he opens the door and leads me through. At our arrival, a hush falls over the assembled crowd. All eyes lock onto us, scrutinizing and evaluating. The weight of their gazes has me bowing my head.

Xavier squeezes the back of my neck in response and I school my features, keeping my smile from forming. His praise never fails to stir something in me. I crave his approval with an intensity that scares me.

The atmosphere around me is thick with anticipation. It feels at odds with a place designed for humility and faith. The chapel, in its restored glory, is a testament to the reverence of the past. History and art can be found no matter where I look.

The windows, tall and narrow, have been fitted with panes of stained glass that filter the moonlight into a kaleidoscope of colors. These have been strategically placed to tell a biblical tale, bathing the interior with color, the hues dancing across the stone floor. Statues line the walls like guardians of doctrine, and the wooden pews have been polished to a soft sheen. Each row of seating is adorned with plush, velvet cushions in a deep green.

This is where the recruits sit. I catch sight of June and Brenda among them, their formal wear similar to mine. June has her hair pulled up in a sleek bun and wears a dress of soft ivory that clings to her stiff frame. Her rigid posture softens the tiniest bit when our gazes meet.

With Xavier’s order to remain silent firmly planted in my brain, I can only offer my friend a brief smile. A silent communication passes between us, and I relax at knowing she’s all right. At least for the time being.

Brenda, on the other hand, stares at me with open envy. Her dress, a shimmering red, flows around her like spilled wine. Her hair is loose, and her body language is just as unrestrained as she leans toward Xavier. Her eyes hold a fragility that makes me grow cold. But not more than Eric’s gaze when it lands on me.

Well, he can get fucked. Not exactly the most pious of thoughts, but certainly the most honest.

I ignore Eric’s stare as my recruit leads me to our designated seats directly in front of June and Declan, the masked recruit next to her. We settle on the cushion, and I take a deep breath while hardening my resolve to keep my wits about me. Even with Xavier’s mask in place, I can sense his tension. It clings to his shoulders just as tightly as he grips my neck.

At this moment, I’m acutely aware of the delicate balance of power and danger that defines Xavier’s world. As I stand by his side, facing the gathered assembly of assassins and leaders, I realize the depth of my trust in him. Despite the danger, despite the overwhelming odds, I know he’ll protect me.

I relax in his hold, and he flicks his eyes to me, his gaze questioning. Before I can convey a silent message, a masked individual makes his way to the front of the room. The pews face the heart of the chapel where an altar stands. It’s made of wood and decorated with a single tapestry that showcases a crow, its vibrant threads bringing the creature to life.

The man situates himself behind the altar. In the light of the numerous electrical scones lining the walls, his black robes seem to absorb the brightness, rather than reflect it as he raises a hand. The gesture demands our attention more than a shout would. The quiet around me drops to a deafening silence, and I find myself holding my breath.

“Welcome esteemed members of the council, leaders of the founding families, and recruits of the Obsidian Order,” he says. His voice echoes through the chapel, rich and full of authority. “We gather here tonight under the watchful eyes of our forebears, in the hallowed grounds of our ancestors, to celebrate the Crow’s Covenant.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in, his gaze sweeping across the room, locking briefly with every pair of masked eyes. “This ceremony is not merely a tradition. It is a rite of passage, evidence of the strength, loyalty, and unwavering commitment of those who stand ready to embrace the mantle of the crow.”

Another pause, this time filled with the noise of movement as the attendees shift, the weight of his words pressing down on all of us. “To be a crow is to accept the burden of shadows, to operate within the veil of secrecy that protects our world. It is a life dedicated not to glory or honor, but to the silent safeguarding of balance and order. And absolute power.”

He turns slightly, gesturing towards a row of tables beside the altar where an array of tools lie in wait, along with nine wooden chairs.

“Tonight, our newest recruits will receive their feathers, each one a symbol of a summons completed to the Order’s exacting specifications. These are not mere decorations, but marks of achievement, of sacrifices made and dangers braved in the service of our cause. Rise and reveal your wings.”

With that, the man steps back, nodding to Xavier and the other recruits, a silent invitation to come forward and accept their new marks of honor. All at once, the young men remove their black t-shirts and a collective gasp ripples through the chapel.

It’s drowned out by the sound of my heart breaking in two.

My eyes are drawn to Xavier, to the tapestry of scars and mutilated skin that covers his back. Every one tells a story of torture and abuse, every mark physical evidence of his past suffering. The urge to reach out, to somehow erase those years of pain, is overwhelming. Instead, I do what he told me to.

I keep my gaze solely focused on him.

Xavier takes his place among the others, his stance unyielding, a silent display of his inner fortitude. After they take their seats with their spines facing the audience, the lights dim, plunging the room into darkness. Then the UV lights lining the rafters flicker on, and that’s when I see them—the outline of wings on my recruit’s back.

The UV tattoo spans the entirety of his back as though he’s able to take flight. The feathers are empty spaces, but their shapes are precise, giving them a realistic appearance. Under the proper lighting, this artwork is breathtaking.

The sound of buzzing soon fills the air as the tattoo artists are summoned from the pews and take up their position, along with their tools. I watch in fascination as the empty spaces within the feathers on Xavier’s back start to get filled in. Under the glow of the UV lights, each stroke adds depth and dimension to the wings, transforming them from mere outlines into something alive, something pulsing with an unseen energy. It’s a slow, meticulous process, but with each feather that gains its texture and color, the more magnificent the wings become.

A tap on my shoulder nearly makes me shriek. I whirl around, my heart in my throat, to find June. She has both arms propped on the pew and leans toward me. I squint in the dim lighting, barely able to make out the look of concern on her face.

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the continuous noise of the tattoo guns. I stare at her, unable to believe she’s risking conversation after the warning Xavier gave me. “There’s something on your back. It’s glowing under the UV lights.”

My fingers flutter over the skin of my back, but my mind already knows what she’s seeing.

It’s Xavier’s cum.

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