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He stalks toward me, his eyes narrowing. “You weren’t trying to hide your heat from me, Everleigh. Were you?”
He always seems to know when I’m lying. How to answer in a way that doesn’t—
Distracted, I don’t see him move.
My head rings. I smash into the floor, moaning as I lift my fingers to probe my throbbing cheek. It’s not broken. This time.
“You were. Weren’t you?” He stands over me, his gaze daring me to lie.
“Yes, Lawrence.” The whisper bleeds from my lips, and I wait for his punishment. What will it be this time?
The wait is always the worst, and the calculation I read flickering in his eyes.
And then he smiles.
He reaches for his pants. Navy material pools at his ankles. He’s already hard, but he won’t fuck me yet. He wants to control me, wants to remind me of my place.
“On your knees, Everleigh. I know exactly what you can do for me while we wait for you to beg for my knot, and youwillbeg for it, won’t you?”
A tear drips from my eye and slides down my cheek. “Yes, Lawrence.”
He gives me a nod to begin. I rise to my knees. Too slow apparently, because he seizes my hair and drags me closer, not caring when I wince. I open my mouth and—
A hand grips my arm, shocking me.
I blink rapidly, my eyes clashing with Cian’s khaki-green stare. He’s standing far closer to me than he was before. Inches separate us.
That’s not the only difference. I’m trembling all over, my cheeks are wet, and I’m breathing so hard my chest hurts from all my hard panting.
“Everleigh?” It’s like he can see into my heart and read my terror because he says my name in the same soft way Rune spoke to me in their limo. Like I’m a half-broken thing that will crumble into pieces if it isn’t handled right.
Maybe I am.
I hastily brush the wetness from my cheeks with a shaking hand. Della is on her feet, her face the strangest mix of fury and devastation. I don’t know which emotion dominates.
When did you become such a pitiful creature, Everleigh? Grow a fucking spine.
I pull away from Cian, move to the edge of the bed, and sit, my eyes on the wood. Waiting, like a lost piece of luggage to be claimed.
“I’m okay,” I say when no one would believe that was true. Not even me. “I’m fine.”
Cian drops into a crouch in front of me.
From downstairs, Lawrence laughs.
I can’t control my shudder.
Cian’s lips tighten.
Curving a hand around the nape of my neck, Cian draws me toward him and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. “Don’t leave this room. I’ll be back.”
I grab his arms when he rises, terror a sharp, jagged spike in my chest. “Something is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” he says calmly. “Just stay here, okay?”
I nod once, relieved he’s going, so he doesn’t see more of my pathetic behavior. Maybe I’ll have pulled myself together by the time he returns.
He smiles faintly, gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, and then steps out the door and pulls it closed behind him.
