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But thick fingers wrapped around the joint, blocking me. His dark laughter rang in my ears, and the soft cushions of his lips whispered against my skin. “Good try, Little Monster.”
“What’s my present? A tombstone?” I gritted angrily, hating how the feel of him behind me made my legs weak.
“I told Leo if you’re a good girl, I’ll let him visit,” he purred.
My eyes widened, and I spun around. “Leo?”
Atticus preened at my excitement, making me instantly wary. “He’s smarter than I gave him credit for. Realized I was lying almost instantly.”
I pursed my lips. “He’ll tell August.”
“No,” Atticus said calmly. “He won’t. Because he agrees with me. You’re safer here, Christine. Until all of this is under control.”
Of course Leo agreed with Atticus. He’d been trying to get me out of that damn castle since the moment I arrived. “Then I don’t want to see him.”
Atticus clicked his tongue. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. He is dying to see you. I wasn’t going to let him, but he seemed quite determined. Poor man has been worried sick.”
I cleared my throat. “He has?”
Atticus nodded. “He has. Now, I don’t mind if you attend dinner like this, but you might be more comfortable in something else. Would you like for me to pick out a dress for you? I remember how much you enjoyed the last time I did.”
And just like that, I found myself hating Atticus again. “Nope,” I replied, popping the p. “I’m comfortable in this.”
“If you insist,” he replied before grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him. I crashed against his chest and looked up at him. “You infuriate me,” I growled.
“Does anger turn you on, Little Monster?” he asked before gripping my hips. I could feel his hard length pressing against my stomach. “Because I happen to love the way your mouth presses into a thin line. Makes me want to pry it open with my cock.”
I licked my lips and stared at him for a moment, my breaths forcing my chest to rise and fall with heady desire. “Fuck you, Atticus.”
He grinned devilishly. “My mother is going to love you.”
“I’m not going, Atticus,” I insisted.
“You will if you want to see Leo. And I know you want to see him. He owes you a kiss, does he not?”
“I won’t be kissing anyone who treats me like an ignorant doll to be controlled,” I gritted.
Atticus laughed once more. “You just let them kiss your pretty pussy, right?” He licked his lips to emphasize his point, making my stomach clench.
I shoved at him again, but his quick hands wrapped around my wrist. “If you want to see him, you’ll come with me. My parents have always loved you.”
I let out a sigh. I’d met his parents quite a few times when I was a teen. They were always kind to me, but I felt that something was always off about them. “Atticus, I don’t like being bribed.”
“But you do like being informed. You’ve been trapped in this room all day. Come with me. I promise it’ll be worth your while. We can discuss the progress we’ve made in tracking down Lord Nathan and what his plans are. The sooner we take him out, the sooner you can join the world of the living. Plus, Leo has been with Augustus. You can ask him all about your precious king.”
He did have a point. Hiding in my room wasn’t accomplishing anything, and if I left, maybe I could figure out an escape route. “Fine. But I’m not changing. You don’t get to dress me up like a toy, Atticus.”
“Of course, Little Monster. Whatever you desire.”
I followed Atticus out of the room, and I openly took in the forest green paint on the walls and the masculine artwork. Atticus’s living room was manly and moody, tasteful with brown leather sofas and a flatscreen mounted to the wall. Green plaid pillows that looked soft and cozy decorated a burgundy accent chair, and the vintage rug on the floor looked soft.
He had a large modern kitchen with towering cabinets and an industrial stove top. The extremely large island had ten barstools lined up. “This way,” he said as I observed a guard standing in the corner.
Another hallway led to a large dining room with crown molding and detailed tiled ceilings. The ornate oak table sat at least sixteen people.
Elizabeth DuPont was sitting in a chair, scrolling on her cell phone with a smirk, and her husband, Theodore DuPont, was sipping whiskey at the head of the table. Both of their eyes snapped to me the moment we walked through the door. “Oh darling, your arm!” Elizabeth exclaimed while standing up. She wore a monochromatic beige pantsuit, and her hair was pulled back into a chic bun. The gold hoop earrings she wore bounced as she practically sprinted over to me in her designer heels. I stiffened when she wrapped her willowy arms around me and squeezed. “I was so worried about you and sweet Atty. I’m glad you got out of there safely. This whole mess is so disheartening.” She pulled away and looked at me with sparkling brown eyes lined with long lashes.
“Let the poor girl breathe, Lizzy,” Theodore said with a chuckle that reminded me of Atticus. As Elizabeth hugged me, I looked at Atticus’s father with discerning eyes, noting the burgundy tie around his neck and the designer suit he wore. Theodore was tall like his son and had a commanding presence. His full head of hair was speckled with gray strands, and the gold cufflinks on his wrist sparkled under the chandeliers.
