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“He won’t hurt you. Not while I’m around.”
He sounds confident of that, but I’m not so sure he knows what Josh is capable of. Neither do I. Not really. A lot of harsh words were spoken all those years ago, but it was weeks after the breakup that he trashed my name all over the news. Told the world Lucinda Waldgrave was a cock-loving whore. His words, albeit in print, made my father more angry than I’d ever seen him. He demanded to know if the news article was true. He hit so hard that the bruises were visible for weeks. Nothing could cover up the swollen eyes, the broken jaw, the black and blue marks. And everyone turned a blind eye. The doctors, the surgeons. No one questioned it, because no one questions Peter Waldgrave. No one with any brains. My father owns the police. He owns everyone. He’s above the law, and because of that, he got away with beating his daughter until she almost died. It was the first time he hit so hard, but it wasn’t the last. And all because of Joshua Nix.
I hold my breath as I follow Dacre out of the room. I want to cling to him, but I can’t get the memory of last night out of my head. I hate him for what he did, but I loved it too. Maybe that’s the problem. I’m a total mess.
The stench of cigarette smoke lingers in the air.
“He’s on the terrace,” Dacre says as though he can read my mind. “I’ve poured you a bowl of cereal.” I almost laugh. It’s the only thing I seem to eat when Dacre is around. At least Mercier cooks me food.
I sit by the counter and reach my fingers out in front of me. Dacre pushes the bowl into my hand, then pours milk. A flash of electricity runs up my arm when his fingers brush mine when passing me a spoon.
I have literally no idea how to speak to him now. Yesterday he hated me. Before that, he was indifferent to me. Now he’s? I don’t know how he is. This is the first time he’s bothered about feeding me. I hate that my heart is so desperate for the slightest positive interaction with anyone that I want him to touch me again. Not like last night. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me and I don’t know how to feel about it. I just want something small. A caress, a whisper. Someone to acknowledge me as a human being.
“I can see in your eyes that you are thinking about last night. About what I did to you.” His words are like honey, made all the more delicious with his British accent.
I can already feel the blood rushing to my face. I don’t know what he saw in my face that gave me away and, even more terrifyingly, I don’t know how to stop it. It’s painful how well these men know my body and yet none of them knows me at all.
“I was actually thinking I’d prefer toast,” I snap, mortified by how easy I am to read.
“Your wish is my command... Liar.”
A shiver runs through my body at his words. I can’t even lie to them. They know everything... almost everything. They still don’t know my biggest secret. It’s one that will never show on my face or in my eyes, because I won’t let it. Let them have my body’s secrets. I’ll give them up willingly to keep the most important part of me secret.
A minute later, a plate of toast is put in front of me. Dacre takes my hand and guides me to it. It’s like touching a live wire. “You could have just told me it was there. I’m not totally incompetent.”
He runs his fingers lightly over the back of my hand sending a shudder through me. “I never said you were.”
“You imply it every time you move my hands to where you think they should be.”
“Don’t you want me to touch your hand again, Lucy?”
That name again. I wish he’d stop with it. I hate being called Sin, but Lucy is personal. Much more personal than I want him to be.
“Answer me, Lucy.” He puts his finger under my chin and angles my face up. He wants me to look at him. For once, I’m glad I can’t see. If I had to look into his eyes, I wouldn’t be able to speak. “Do you want me to never touch you again?”
Mortification fills my soul. “No,” I admit.
“That’s what I thought.” His hand leaves my chin and I hear him moving away. My mutinous heart drops. What is wrong with me? He’s sick. They all are, so why do I want his touch? Why do I want anything from him? Oh, yeah, because I’ve spent my life being starved of human affection and this is like a starving girl’s first ever meal. I remember the brief flash of light I saw last night after he made me come and a thrill of excitement hits my heart. I saw something. Nothing tangible. Only light, but I actually saw it. Maybe that’s what my heart wants, and it’s turning my desire for sight into desire for Dacre? I’m so confused.
I jump, dropping the toast from my hand when he moves my hair back from my neck. He’s managed to move round the kitchen island and behind me without me hearing. I’m losing my touch, or I’m too wrapped up in the thoughts racing through my mind to hear what’s going on around me.
He drops a light kiss on my neck. My whole body wakes up. I lean into him, willing him on. He snakes his hands up under my pajama top and cups my breasts as he pushes his chest into my back. My head lolls back as he circles my nipples and trails kisses round my neck to just below my earlobe.
I let out a low moan and rub my thighs together. My body is no longer my own. He’s taken a hold of me again. I almost fall back off the chair as he pulls back abruptly.
“Could have left some for me.” Nix’s voice has me sitting up straight. The desire that was coursing through my body stills.
“We weren’t doing anything,” I lie.
His footsteps are heavy as he strides across the room. When he next speaks, he’s right next to me, taking up the space that Dacre has just vacated. “I was talking about the toast, not your filthy body. You were always so up yourself that everything was about you. I see that nothing’s changed.”
I shiver from the malice in his voice. “But seeing as you like to share yourself amongst my friends, you won’t mind sharing your breakfast, eh?”
He leans across me and, I assume, grabs the toast that Dacre had made for me, because I hear him crunching it in my ear.
“Don’t be a dick,” Dacre says. “We were just having breakfast. I can make more toast.”
“Don’t need any now. Sin has let me share hers. We like sharing here, don’t we?”
