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She says nothing and watches me with fascination.
“To forego emotion. To remove our hearts so we can bring our enemies down. What about you, Eliza, would you remove emotion to do the same?”
I rest the blade just above her heart and press in gently and she nods, her eyes wild with excitement.
“Do it.” She urges as she licks her lip. “When you cut inside, you’ll only find it empty, anyway.”
“So, you say, but I’m calling you a liar.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
I increase the pressure and say huskily, “You care more than you want to admit. Something is driving you and if I had to name it, I’d call it revenge. A fight to survive and to hell with the consequences.”
“I take it back.” She smiles up at me, which catches me off guard.
“You do know me.”
For a second, our eyes connect, and something passes between us. Just one second of realization that we are the same. Then she whispers, “Do it. Cut out my heart, and I’ll make a pact with you.”
The knife hovers in the air as I sense victory and she urges, “It’s the only way. Cut yourself and we will make our own pact. You help me and I give you what you want.”
“You really mean that?”
“I do. It’s my word wrapped in blood. I give you my heart.”
For a moment, those words stun me more than anything because it brings new meaning to the situation. Do I want her heart? The fuck I do because as I said, emotion vacated the premises years ago. However, if this is what it takes to bring Frankie back, I’d slit my own neck and so I press the blade against the jagged pieces of my heart and love how her eyes widen as she watches the blood trickle down my chest. As I hold the bloodied knife to her own chest, I give her one last chance to back out and as she senses my reluctance, she snaps, “Just cut me, you fucking bastard. Get on with it.”
With one swipe of the blade and an agonized scream, I watch the blood stream down her pure white skin, darkening it in a pool of rage and retribution. I swipe my finger across the river and take her own hand in mine, smearing my blood with hers and hold her hand against my heart.
“I have your heart, Eliza. You belong to me now.” I whisper darkly and her heightened color and labored breathing tells me she’s more than happy about that.
Despite my senses screaming at me to end it there, I am too far gone and can’t help lowering my hungry lips to hers and taking what I’ve wanted since I first set eyes on her. Tongues fight an erotic dance as they struggle for supremacy and her low moan of desire makes me press hard against her drenched pussy. It would be so easy to slide inside and finish the job, but that’s not what this is about. It’s about domination and getting what I want and that begins now, so with a loud roar, I raise the knife and bring it down hard, cutting the bonds that tether her beneath me and I set my beauty free.
CHAPTER6
ELIZA
What just happened? The moment my ties were cut, my body jerked away from him.
I’m free.
It worked.
As I stare down, I note the blood seeping from the wound in my chest, and I adore it. He did what he threatened to do, and I love that. The bastard actually cut me, and I pledged my heart to him. What the hell was I thinking? I was consumed by madness and now, as he stands before me, knife in hand, the blood running from his angry scar, I don’t believe I have ever seen anything so magnificent.
“Come.” He reaches out and takes my hand and as I stand, my legs wobble a little. In one swift move he sweeps me into his arms and, still holding the knife, he carries me into a bathroom that could double as a spa. I stare around me with wide eyes as I take in the pure decadence of a place that may as well be plastered in gold. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was because all around me is the valuable stuff, fashioned into bathroom fittings that dazzle the beholder.
A huge spa like tub overlooks the mountains and there is a waterfall doubling as a shower. To my surprise, my captor places me gently on a padded bench at the side and presses a button that fills the tub with sweet smelling hot water. I can’t tear my eyes away as I openly stare at a body that was crafted from my dreams and if he is embarrassed to be naked, you wouldn’t know as he stands before me and openly casts his own eyes over mine.
Reaching out, he presses his hand over my wound and says huskily, “The water will help seal that.”
When I glance down, I notice the deep cut and laugh softly. “Well, you’re a man of your word, I suppose.”
I lift my eyes and note the storm in his and just for a second wonder what the fuck I’ve done.
He says nothing more and helps me into the tub and, as he settles beside me, he reaches for a phone.
