Heartless Hero (Crowne Point 1)

My mother’s lips thinned.

And a little bit of the fire in my chest dissipated.

I kicked off my shoes and ran past my distraught mother and my soon-to-be mother-in-law, into the house and up the stairs, down the hall, to my wing. I didn’t stop to catch my breath until I was safely in my wing, back in my room. Then I fell, grasping the sateen chaise at the foot of my bed. I counted my breath with the ocean waves outside.

Minutes passed with their crashing.

1…2…3… heart almost steady.

“Bad plan.”

I lifted my head sharply at Theo’s voice, still holding the arm for support. Just like that, my heart was tachycardiac. Theo leaned with his back against the doorframe, head canted, watching me with a darkly amused expression.

I looked back at the white carpet.

“Where’s Gemma?” I sounded petulant.

I hated that.

I saw his shadow first, then his soft black leather shoes. He bent down, lifting my chin from the carpet.

“You act like you’re this broken little victim, but I see you.” He rubbed my flesh gently through his vicious words. “You’re an attention whore. You get off on it. Good or bad, Mommy didn’t give you enough growing up so you seek it out.”

His thumb strayed from my chin, gliding along my bottom lip.

“Am I not giving you enough attention, Reject?”

Anger rose hot, almost masking the hurt. I snapped at his thumb; he drew it back just in time with a laugh.

“Go away,” I tried to growl, and it came out a mumble.

“Did you think that would bother me, Reject?” His voice was too calm, too quiet.

“It wasn’t about you,” I lied.

“Hopefully. Because watching you treat yourself like an old couch doesn’t do much for me.”

My heart cracked.

Then his fingers came back to my chin, vicious, dragging me up off the floor with a force that felt like it would snap my neck if I didn’t comply.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t clear.”

The hand at my chin pushed the hair from my face violently, locking into place at the back of my neck—locking me into place. His other shot between my legs. Cupping me—no, imprisoning me.

I sucked in a breath.

“You’re mine. I own this. The next time you feel like getting sloppy with my property…” His grip tightened, and the little air in my lungs vanished. “I won’t be so forgiving.”

Shivers raced up my spine.

I glared. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

A small smile hooked his right lip, like he knew my lie. “Were you just as wet for him?”

The closest Horace got to me was above-the-panties action, and I nearly vomited at that. Either way I answered would damn me, but Theo didn’t seem to want one anyway.

Theo traced my lace panties, barely lifting the edge with his thumb, just grazing the crease of my thigh. I sucked in air, trying to keep my head clear. It was a torturous rhythm. Expose, cover, expose, cover, until I felt I was going to die if he didn’t move his thumb closer to where I throbbed.