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A hand clamps around my throat and holds on tight. Blood rushes to my brain. It’s a struggle to draw air into my lungs, and that little bit of panic has my orgasm rushing up, even stronger than before.
“Oh, fuck yes, angel, I love when you come on my cock,” Tyrant seethes through gritted teeth, hammering me so hard he fills me with stars, and then he groans with his release.
Tyrant slowly lets go of my throat and eases back before drawing out of me and dragging his fingers along my oozing slit. “I love fucking you raw. Making a mess of this pussy is my new favorite thing.”
I’m so boneless and heavy with pleasure that all I can do is lie there as Tyrant admires me, strokes me with his fingers, and plays with the cum leaking out of me by pushing it back in. His fingers make squelching noises as he delves slowly in and out of my pussy and hums with satisfaction. I moan softly and revel in the heavy weight of the hand he has on my hip. No one’s ever admired me before. I’ve never wanted anyone to look at me before.
“How long was I asleep for?” I whisper.
Tyrant takes his time answering. He’s too busy chasing a droplet of cum down my thigh, drawing it back up again, and pushing it inside me. “About an hour.”
“Did you sleep?”
Tyrant laughs in a way that tells me he absolutely didn’t sleep.
“Are you having fun back there?” I ask as he goes on playing with my pussy.
“The time of my life, angel.”
In his bassinet, Barlow stirs and makes a squawking sound. I raise my head and start to open my eyes.
“I’ll go,” Tyrant says right away, getting out of bed and pulling his pants back on. “I think he’s hungry. You stay in bed.”
I listen to the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs. What a crazy night this has turned into. Tyrant Mercer has gone to prepare a bottle of formula for my baby brother.
I cuddle the pillow closer and close my eyes. How peaceful and cozy everything feels. I imagine how Tyrant, Barlow, and I wouldn’t have to leave this house for days on end if I stayed. What a beautiful thought, just being here together looking after the baby. Not that I’m going to do that. It’s just nice thinking about it. Like all the crazy things Tyrant says while we have sex. There’s a small ache in the back of my neck, and I rub it. I must have hurt myself on my adventure through Tyrant’s labyrinth.
I fall half asleep again, and when I hear a noise a short time later, Tyrant’s standing by the moonlit window, still shirtless, with Barlow in his arms. His usually fierce brow is relaxed as he gazes down at the baby, who’s nestled comfortably in his tattooed arms. Tyrant murmurs to the baby as he bottle-feeds him, shifting his weight slowly from side to side.
It’s terrifying how good Tyrant looks doing that. There’s a strong, inexplicable pull deep inside me. What a perfect little family we’d make, the three of us.
A stupid thought. An impossible thought. Barlow’s not Tyrant’s son, and I’m not his mother. Dad and Samantha must be out of their minds with worry while I’m here screwing a kidnapper and playing happy family.
I lay back down again, but this time my eyes are open, and I feel wide awake. Barlow must finish his bottle and fall asleep because I hear Tyrant settle him back into his bassinet and then I feel the other side of the bed sink.
A strong hand grips my shoulder and rolls me onto my back. Tyrant is looming over me in the darkness.
“Who’s Lucas?” he murmurs, and he says it so quietly that, for a moment, I don’t realize he’s asked me a question.
Panic makes my belly swoop. “Don’t worry about it.”
Tyrant is silent for so long that I think he’s decided to do as I ask, and in the back of my mind, I feel a trickle of disappointment.
“No, Vivienne. You don’t tell me what I do and don’t worry about. I’m going to have his last name from you. I want to hear the whole story, and then I’m going to find this Lucas and anyone else who’s responsible for hurting you, and I’m going to make them bleed.” His mouth captures mine in a kiss. “Just like you always wanted me to.”
Tyrant can’t possibly put anything right. I’ll have these scars forever, the ones on the outside and the ones on the inside.
“Please don’t make me talk about it anymore. The past few hours have been so precious that I don’t want to ruin it by risking seeing one flicker of doubt in your eyes. I won’t be able to bear it if you don’t believe me.”
Tyrant laughs softly, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. “Believe you? I’m not going to believe you.”
Pain blazes in my heart. “Then why—”
“I’m going to reorder the universe by reordering his fucking organs. I’m going to make such a mess of his entrails, eyeballs, and fingernails that it will take a team of crime scene investigators to identify who he used to be and a dozen cleaners to bleach away all the blood. This Lucas, anyone else who hurt you? They’re as good as dead.”
18
Tyrant
