The Deception series boxset: FaCade, Cadence, Beneath Innocence (13 page)

The water poured down on me, soaking into my skin. I wished with it came my memories, the truth of who I was.

“Why would I want that? To be fucked in front of an audience by someone I don’t know?” My tone was accusing and bitter but that was how I felt. No matter what someone tells you is you, to not have any recollection of ever wanting that, it just felt like abuse; physical and now emotional.

“Fuck!” He punched the wall, cracking a few tiles. Blood formed and dripped from abrasions on his knuckles. “I didn’t fucking want to do this shit, Star. You did, so I went a little harsher than we discussed but I was pissed at you for wanting that! You belong to me! How could you fantasize about being kidnapped and fucked by the captor?” He was so sincere it was terrifying. “I gave in and gave you what you wanted, and used that little cunt Theo at your request, and he attacked you.”

His body slumped back, crashing with the wall and sliding down, his knees coming up to rest his elbows on as he clutched his head in his hands. “After everything, you can’t even remember me. I feel like someone ripped my heart out.”

I wanted to go to him, crouch down and comfort him but it was all so surreal I couldn’t move. I felt cemented to the ground as I watched this dominant man who I thought had bought me and was going to use me as a sex slave break into a shadow of the man I thought him to be. Did he love me? Did I love him?

“I need to dry off.” Stupid, irrelevant and random but it was all I could think to say. Dark eyes flashed up to capture mine. He had a way of demanding focus. He was mesmerizing; my urge to go to him when he looked at me was compulsive, engrained into me. My God, there was something about him, always and only him I felt a connection to, my body trying to prompt my mind into remembering.

“The towels are in that cabinet where you keep them. This is your bathroom, Star. You designed it.”

My eyes scanned the stone tiles covering every surface. The full mirrors on the back wall overlooked his and hers basins, the mirror had lights around it; it was a feminine bathroom.

“Our room is through the adjoining door. The other space was a spare room I occasionally use.” I would question that statement later.

I walked to the cabinet, pulling free a couple of towels, handing one to him before leaving to go into the room he claimed was ours. Floor to ceiling windows made my breath stutter, sheer curtains hung loose, blowing from the gentle breeze seeping through the opening. The natural scent and taste of fresh air is something we all take for granted. Inhaling deep and smiling from the fill of my lungs I sensed him behind me. I slipped the wet clothes from my body so as to not keep dripping on the plush carpet that covered the floor then tucked the towel around me.

White walls and red furnishings colored this room. Rich and warm. There was a dresser littered with perfumes. My feet carried me over to them. Lifting the lid, I smelt each one trying desperately to trigger a memory, a hint of anything about me and my preferences. My fingers brushed over every surface hoping to prompt something but nothing came.

“Your clothes are all in your wardrobe.” He pointed to a door. Pushing it open, the heat from his body condensed the air around us. “Here’s the switch.”

Clothes upon clothes lined the racks; it was bigger than the bathroom. Fancy fabrics, dresses, jackets. “Drawers are where you keep your jeans and tee’s,” he murmured, gesturing to the drawers built into the bottom of the built in wardrobe.

“Do you mind letting me get dressed?” I meekly asked.

He stared at me, assessing if I was serious then shook his head, lifting his hand in surrender. “Whatever, Star.” He pulled the door to, shutting me inside.

I wasn’t prepared to feel like the walls were rushing in around me, draining the air from the space. I immediately rushed for the door to open it but it was stiff in my grasp. Panic overcame me, my palm repeatedly crashing down against the wood. “Let me out, let me out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

I staggered forwards when the door gave way.

I landed with a thud into Dante’s bare chest. “Ssh, it’s okay. I was just letting you change. Ssh.” I breathed to the rhythm of his heartbeat, in…out…in…out. I let his calm soak into me. He had tattoos on each arm one reaching over his shoulder. Seeing them was comforting … but why.

“Get changed in here, Star. I’ll be in the bathroom, then come down to eat.”

I nodded, giving him a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

He shrugged but sighed heavily, his dark eyes catching mine for a moment before he turned and walked away. I watched the way he moved, appreciating the ripple of his back muscles, their bulk showing the sheer strength of him. Frowning to myself, I turned and picked through some clothes, pushing away the ache in my heart.

I HADN’T GONE DOWN; I stayed in my room. Two weeks I circled the same layout of this room, ignoring his pleas when he brought me food. I couldn’t bear it any longer; small images of him kept creeping into my mind like he was summoning me with crumbs of who he was. I missed him and that terrified me.

I could smell pizza when I went in search of him. The aroma became more potent the further into the house I ventured.

He sat at the same table as he had two weeks ago, his hair wet from an impromptu shower I heard him take when I didn’t answer his request to come down to eat with him thirty minutes ago. He was dressed casually. I stood out of sight from him but in perfect view to soak him in. In dark loose jeans with a black sweater he still emanated power and dominance; a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I felt it the minute he sensed me there, he had a way of shifting the atmosphere around him. My cheeks heated when he turned in my direction. “Come eat, Belle.”

I moved from my not so hidden space, my bare feet tapping over the floor with each step I took. “Why do you call me that?”

He watched me with such intensity, an invisible force wrapped around me like a rope and pulled me closer and closer to him. Standing, cupping my cheek, his minty breath mixed with a hard liquor licked over my skin when he breathed. “Because you have always been the most beautiful woman in a room, the belle of the ball.”

Trying not to fidget in his grasp or feel the desire he stoked inside me, I calmly stepped back. His hand dropped with his exhale, and angry eyes pierced me. “You’ll have to get used to me touching you, Belle. You are mine, after all. Whether you remember or not that’s a fact and something you need to accept!”

I fought back the impending tears. “It’s not by choice, not remembering, Dante.”

His one stride closed the gap I had put between us. “It was your choice to risk this, Star! Now look what’s happened. We’re practically strangers who are to be wed in a month.” He was grasping my arms in tight fists, making me wince. My stomach chose that moment to grumble, alerting us both to my hunger. I don’t know why but I flushed with embarrassment. “I got your favorite.”

I looked down at the pizza box. “I don’t eat carbs.” It slipped through my lips from the woman I was before, shocking us both silent. A glimmer of who I once was came through from nothing. It was small but it was something. His eyes widened, matching my own as my heart sped up. “Oh my God, it just came from nowhere, Dante. But it’s true, right?”

A small smile puckered his lips as he nodded. “You have a cheat day once a month and always want pizza; it’s your favorite. I took you to Italy so you could have the real thing.”

He marched across the room to retrieve a box from the cabinet. He placed it in front of me, removing the lid. Pictures. Lifting the first one I almost dropped it again. There we were together, me smiling up at him as he held the camera out of view, taking the image himself at arm’s reach. I looked completely besotted, lovingly gazing up at him. I placed it down on the table and reached for another. I was alone, standing in a field, my hair blowing in the breeze, a smile so bright on my face. I mirrored it, staring down at myself. That was me. Yellow fields spread out behind me like sand in the desert, and perched on a hill, a stunning property overlooked it all. I looked younger though.

“That’s our house in the south of France. You were eighteen here.” His tone was reminiscent. He took the picture and stroked over the image. “I was so in love with you.”

Taking the picture from him, I placed it on the table. “Was?” I held my breath while he intently studied my features before replying.

“She’s lost but we will find her again. You’re mine Star, you know that. Soon your brain will catch up.”

The next picture was of us lying on a sun lounger, him on top of me, nuzzling my neck, my laughter caught perfectly to showcase my happiness. He was so tense beside me. I looked up at him. “This is the holiday when I proposed.”

I looked back down at the picture, willing it to tell me our story. I wanted to scream at the girl in there to help me remember, to show me the memories, but nothing came.

Suddenly he grabbed me and smothered my mouth with his. I let him, losing myself to his carnal need. His tongue angrily swiped at mine, his teeth nipping at my lips. His hand dropped down to grasp my ass cheeks, lifting me up against his body. Mine worked without command, everything fluid like muscle memory. My body remembered him, wanted him, craved him and it was the only thing that actually felt real in my life. I needed the anchor he was offering.

He placed me on the table, forcing his way between my parted thighs, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against me to elicit friction hard enough to encourage the arousal to spark. He was all over me, his hands groping my breasts, his cock rubbing against me, his mouth devouring my lips, cheeks, neck. He was animalistic and brutal in his claiming and that was what this was - a hunter claiming his prey.

He lifted my tee from my body, exposing more skin for him to kiss, lick, bite and mark. When his hot mouth closed over my lace covered nipple a flash conjured an image in my head of us making love, slow and intimate, white sheets beneath us, skin to skin, every part of us touching, connecting as if we were one being. I gasped when it faded and reality rushed in. The gentle love making was replaced with the same man pushing me to my back, tearing my jeans down my legs without removing my panties. He pulled them to the side and thrust fully inside me. I hadn’t even seen him release his cock from the confines of his jeans.

The rude entry sting eased into wet strokes of pure pleasure. He fit me like a glove, as if I was made to his perfect measurements. There was no doubt in my mind I belonged to him, even without the picture evidence and memory flash of us. My body ignited for him, moved in sync with his, my body remembered that his owned it.

With every rushed thrust my back scraped against the wood beneath me, moving me away only for his hold on my hips to pull me back onto him. The burn in my core exploded, tightening me around him and milking his cock. He roared into the room like the beast he was, pulling from me, hot ribbons of cum squirting from him to soak my stomach and breasts.

Our mixed pants filled the void of silence in the room. “Fuck I love how you feel on my cock. You’re such a tight little slut.” His words shocked me, even though he had spoken in such a way before, when I believed I was a captive.

He lifted each ankle, placing them on the table so he had a perfect view between my thighs. Ripping the lace away, the cool air licked over the wet juices there. “Your cunt is seeping for me, hungry for more. Look at it pulsing. Swollen pink perfection.”

I suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable at his observation of the after effects of my climax. Sickness clawed its way up the back of my throat. It had only been weeks since I was attacked and yet thoughts of that violation didn’t filter in when he was touched me, fucked me. That should have been a good thing but mixed with his words, I felt disgusting. But Dante was an artist and his craft... me. I held no restraint or power when it came to him.

“Don’t let the bad memories rule you, Star. Let’s make new ones.” He knew what I was thinking about. His lips came down to suck at my exposed clit. My head dropped back, clashing with the hard planes of the table but the moan was only for the build he grew within me. Fingers plunged into the hot depths of my core as his tongue lapped up every hint of my release. He flicked his tongue over my pink folds using his thumb to circle the hood of my clit. The pressure grew, the firmness pushing down. I was going to explode. His thumb left me so he could slap at my clit. I wanted to tell him no, it was humiliating but the blood rushing to that area, the contrast between his soft wet tongue licking me and his thumb working me too, then the quick, sharp smack had my body in a battle of serene pleasure and pain. The ripples of my orgasm were so intense I screamed as my body convulsed. “Dante! Oh God, yes! Oh God.” My nails scraped at the table.