Watching. Waiting.
I hated him, but I loved him.
"I love you," I said with a broken sob, falling into my orgasm immediately when the words made him fill me with the heat of his own release.
He stroked inside me until I came down from it and kissed my lips gently. "I love you too, Tesoro. More than you'll ever understand." I glared up at him, feeling tears sting my eyes as he pulled out slowly. His eyes went to my core as I tried to close my legs, but he slid his hand between them as he touched his come that had slipped free. Using two fingers, he shoved it back inside me like the crazy person he was, and I laid there staring at him in horror until he turned and went to the bathroom.
The sound of water running filled the bedroom through the open door and I stared at the ceiling with blinking eyes wondering what the fuck just happened. When he came back, he cleaned me gently, while I laid there stupefied.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I waited until he laid down beside me and turned to rest my head on his chest. He didn’t like that, putting a finger under my chin and tilting my face up to look him in the eye. Stretching up with one hand, I stroked the scar on his face. “I love you,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
“No more secrets, Sunshine,” he whispered back to me, tugging me closer.
“Then will you tell me about this?” I asked, my thumb ran over the line.
He blew out a heavy breath but nodded. “I was just a boy. My father and brother were fond of whips. I got in the way one day, and my brother didn’t pull his arm in time.”
“Whips?” I whispered in shock. “Like for animals?”
“Another time, Tesoro. My life is better absorbed in small chunks. It’s less traumatic for both of us that way.”
I nodded, feeling heavy as Ryker’s breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.
I dreamt of a little boy being whipped in the face.
Forty-Seven
Calla
I strode down the hallway of Axel’s school, listening to the sound of my sneakers squeaking along the floor with the force of my steps.
Fury like I’d never known stressed each stomp, and even Dante was silent at my back.
A fight.
My harmless, smart, sweet boy punched the PTA President’s son in the mouth.
The assistant nodded to me as she stood from her desk, moving to the Principal’s office door. “Right this way, Mrs. Latour.”
“Mrs. Fiore, and I won’t even entertain the idea that you were unaware of my name change,” I hissed, sidestepping her as she pulled the door open. “I filed it with the school two weeks ago.”
As soon as I stepped into the office, Principal Blanchet stood from her chair and opened her mouth. “Calla, this is completely unacceptable.” I held up a hand, silencing her as I moved to Axel and knelt in front of him. He let me tug the ice away from his eye, studying the swelling and purpling skin there as my rage intensified. “Mrs. Fiore!”
“You somehow failed to mention that he was injured as well,” I growled as I spun on my knees and stood in front of Axel.
“I informed you he was in a fight,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No,” I warned. “You told me he’d struck another student on the mouth. In the future, if my son is injured in any capacity, when you call me that is the first thing that leaves your mouth. Is that understood?”
“He struck first. The ramifications of that didn’t seem pertinent.” Pearl Duncan snickered on the other side of the office where she hovered with her spawn of a son, but I ignored her in favor of making myself very clear.
“I will pull him from this school if you do not tell me I’ve been heard. What do you think happens to my husband’s donations when Axel no longer attends the Peterson School for the Gifted?”
She blanched as she stared at me. “Mr. Fiore was a generous benefactor for months before he associated with you. As such, I would assume that his generosity would continue—”
“You assume wrong,” I spat, turning back to Axel.