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At her words, I instantly go still. Even as a boy I knew we were meant to be. It made me angry that she could not see it. Leaning forward, I place both of my elbows on the table, and link my fingers together to glare murderously at her. “Liliana,” I say. “Be very careful.”
It is her turn to laugh. “Why? What are you going to do? Force me again?”
As calmly as I can, I push the chair back and rise from it. I want to walk away, but she refuses to let me leave.
She jumps to her feet and attacks me further with her accusation. “Is it not the truth?” she demands, and I stop in my tracks. “What then are you accusing me of? You said that I was the reason for your father’s death, but the truth is you are the reason. If you had only controlled yourself that day he would still be alive now.”
I feel the knots of fury within me begin to tighten dangerously. She is going to push me into killing her. “You really want to die, don’t you?” I ask.
I see the fear flash instantly in her eyes, but her voice is strong and sure. “If killing me will bring you peace then by all means do it, but first I need to know what exactly I did wrong? Why are you so hell bent on punishing me when you are as guilty as I am?”
I move, and in an instant I am on her, my hand encircled murderously around her neck. I knew she would push me too far. She claws at my hold as it chokes her, struggling to set herself free, and the more she struggles the tighter my hold becomes around her pale scrawny neck. Then tears come to her eyes. The moment I note them I feel a sharp shard of pain in my chest. It adds to the turmoil brewing in my heart.
I loosen my hold and see all the blood returning to her face. She lets her hand fall away and then croaks out, “I’m sorry, you are such a fucking child. You refuse to see that the real blame is all yours.”
I cannot recall how it happens, but a flash of fury blinds me from coherency. I feel every nerve in me tighten and in the next moment she is on the floor and cowering in fear. I stare down at her in shock. Not certain what has startled me more. The fact that I could have actually hit her, or the feeling in my body. As if I just thrust a knife into my own gut and twisted it.
Turning around, overwhelmed by emotions that I can’t understand, I feel myself stagger away. I have only gone a few steps when she bellows out my name.
“Brand.”
I come to an instant stop, but for what, I am not sure. A part of me wishes, hopes and even dares expect that she will somehow put me out of my misery. But how? Who can take this knife out of my flesh?
I turn back to look at her, still crouched on the floor. “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”
For a second I stare at her in amazement, then my whole body reacts to her calm words. I forget to be angry or miserable. “Let’s eat,” I find myself saying, as I change course. I head over to my chair to take my seat and spread the napkin across my lap as if nothing has happened. I ring the bell and minutes later Lindy comes in with our starters. Silently, she starts to serve us. The food smells very good. I pick up my cutlery, but find I cannot eat a thing.
My gaze lifts and lands on her. She is tucking into her meal hungrily. While she is unconscious of my gaze she has no defenses up and she just looks young and innocent again. Like that girl I was smitten with so long ago. The one that I was determined to make mine, only I was so overwhelmed by my own feelings I came across as rude and horrible.
She looks up and her eyes catch mine. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She butters a roll and carries on eating. Lindy comes to clear away the plates. “Was the food not to your liking?” she asks, a frown on her forehead.
“I’m not hungry.” My voice is sharper than I intended.
Liliana lifts her glass of wine and takes a small sip. The room falls silent. Lindy brings in the main course. Confit of duck legs in port sauce. It is accompanied with buttered samphire, crushed potatoes, and finely sliced carrots.
Once again I can barely look at my food, but Liliana polishes off her plate. I’m surprised she doesn’t lift it up and lick it clean. That brings to mind an eye-popping image. Lindy comes in to clear away the plates, and she pointedly does not mention my untouched food.
“Next up,” she announces, “is chocolate pudding with raspberry sauce.” It is her specialty and my favorite, but I decide to skip it. There is only one thing I want to eat. My swollen cock can no longer be ignored. “No. No dessert for us.”
“But I wanted dessert,” Liliana says peevishly.
“That will be all, Lindy. Go out and lock the door behind you,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off my prey.
“Goodnight, Brand,” Lindy says, and goes out of the door. The sound of the key turning echoes around the room.
“What now?” Liliana challenges, her eyes sparkling like gemstones.
“Now, I eat you,” I say, rising.
She sees me coming and hastily gets to her feet. I expect her to try and escape, but instead she stands her ground, blood in her eyes. It turns me on even more, and by the time I reach her I am close to exploding.
In a moment her back is slammed against the table. I grab both of her thighs in my hands and jerk her legs open. Ignoring her curses I push her skirt up to get to her sweet cunt. Ripping off her goddamn grannie panties in one swift jerk, I pull her towards the bulge of my hard cock. I grind my hips brutally against hers, the groan arising from my throat raw and animalistic. My arms go around her protesting body to hold her in place and for a moment, as I try to catch my breath, it’s almost as though I am holding onto her for dear life.
“Let me go, you big ugly brute,” she says between gritted teeth.
My answer is to take a nip at her neck. Her breath comes out in a rush of excitement, before she catches herself and increases her resistance, but the more she fights the more aroused I become. Her puny struggles urge me to trace brutal kisses down her heated skin until I get to her chest. Once and for all I rip her shirt apart. There will be no more wearing this ugly piece of shit in my house.
The buttons fly in all directions as the shirt falls open. I make short work of her bra. One flick and I’m in. I yank it away to reveal her beautiful breasts. With one hand I grip both of her wrists and twist them behind her back so her breasts are exposed and pushed out towards me. I stop for an instant to take in the riveting sight, but in my moment of distraction she drops her head back and swings it furiously forward and head butts me.
A sharp pain shoots through my skull. I see stars and lose my grip on her hands. As I stagger backwards, I see her recoiling even worse from the blow. She holds her head in her hands to contain the pain.
I can’t help the bitter, taunting laugh that flows out of my mouth. “This is rich. Your father is a Class A thug and that’s the best you can do! You have been sheltered, haven’t you? Jake Eden’s little princess. So precious, I had to pay the greatest price for even daring to touch you. And all these years I’ve been dying to have you … to see if you are indeed special.”
I can feel my temper careening out of control once more so I look briefly away from her. By the time I return my gaze to her, she has her shirt pulled tightly in her hands to cover her chest.
“I’d rather die than let you touch me again,” she declares, her face white.
“Go ahead,” I encourage callously. “There’s a knife on the table next to you. You should know how to make it work. You are Jake Eden’s daughter, after all.”
With her eyes on me she does as I have suggested. I watch her hand slant as she brings the one edge of the knife to the base of her throat.
I laugh as I move closer to her. “That’s the blunt end, sweetheart. You’ll be a long time dying that way.”
Suddenly, with a cry of fury, she swings the knife in my direction. I jump back and evade the blade, but she manages to slash the sleeve of my shirt. I look down. I had not felt any pain, but blood seeps through the white material. I look up at her and smile softly. “There, I drew your blood this afternoon,
and now you’ve drawn mine. Now I can get down to the business of fucking you.”
She swallows hard, then places the sharp end of the knife across her slender throat, and shuts her eyes. Her hands are shaking and I realize with a sharp pang of panic in my chest that I have pushed her so close to the edge she might actually go through with it.
“Go ahead,” I say to her as coldly as I can. “But just remember your father will join you shortly.”
Her eyes shoot open.
“Deathcap Mushrooms,” I say. “Have you heard of it?”
“There is not yet any known cure for this poison … it is one of these things if you ingest it … you die horribly as your kidneys and liver give up. A very painful and slow death.”
She has become as quiet as death.
