Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (79 page)

“Wil,” I moan his name as his tongue delves deep
- tasting me, eating me. Strong hands on my outer-thighs grip, fingertips bruisingly digging in. They easily part my legs, making room for his face to come closer, to thoroughly taste me. The wider my legs, the deeper his tongue burrows inside of me… and then he finds my clit.

Quivers wrack my body, rolling down my spine in waves. My thighs shake so badly that Wil has to tighten his grip or I’d slam my legs shut on his face. The pleasure is too much. I want to scream
where the fuck did you learn to do this
, but I don’t want to know- because I already know the answer. Like a shower of shards of glass and razor-sharp ice, the pleasure vanishes.

I lie on my back with Wil between my legs, and feel nothing but pain. My body still recognizes the sensations as pleasure, but my mind is no longer engaged. Wil sensing the change in me,
he works harder to get me off. His teeth tug on my clit ring, his tongue teases the bud, but I don’t make a sound or move. Wil goes down on me… and I silently cry.

“Faith?” Wil hoarsely says- Faith, not Pixy. Wil isn’t here with me, either. The only difference is that when this started, I was with him. I felt him. I was connected with him, and he never felt me or connected with me.
He never planned on allowing me to touch him- it’s why he’s still clothed. It’s why he moved down my body so I couldn’t touch him back. He didn’t want me to touch him. Rejection slams into me with the force of a wrecking ball.

“I’m surprised you kissed me,” I whisper, because to do anything else would break my voice. “Or was it me who shouldn’t have kissed you. I forget… which one of us is play
ing the role of whore right now, Wil?”

Stunned, Wil sits up. I quickly sit up, too. I clench my legs together, arms tightly wrapping around my knees, as if I can give myself a hug.

“Don’t be naïve, Faith. You know exactly what I’m here for,” Wil snarls.

“I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure,” I whisper back, still unable to speak at a normal voice.

“The game play was for a Holden, and I’m not a Holden. There is only one reason I’m in this room,” he snidely hisses.

“Oh, yeah, why is that? Because I r
emember Mitchell telling us to have sex as punishment,” I hiss back at Wil. Anger removing all of my discomfort, I flick the light switch on the lamp next to me. I need to see his face, so that in the future when I replay this moment, I won’t turn it into a misunderstanding or put a fairytale, bullshit spin on it.

Wil’s blue eyes glow white in the light, as if illuminated from within with a fire of hate and disgust. His eyes show me how he really feels, what he really thinks of me. There is no respect between us, and it turns my stomach to think of how I felt just moments ago. We go around and around with this shit, over and over. Wil looks at me like he did in my bathroom after dying my hair, how he looked at me after we had sex in his car- mortified.

“Have you ever heard of a fluffer? Because I’m your fluffer, Syn,” he nastily says in his serial killer tone. The way he said my name is familiar, said in a way that I thought we’d moved beyond. He speaks to me like he did almost two years ago when he first met me. It is spoken in the same way he called me an entitled princess when he thought I was Fate. The word Syn is snidely said in the manner he used to twist the word Daddy.

“What are you talking about?” The confusion in my voice is so thick that the words slur together.

“Mitchell never said what the punishment was, Syn. He just said that he was punishing us. You just assumed it was sex. Remember what Boyd did a year ago at Christmas, how he had you come over and surprised you with not just me and Greta, but with Ez and Cort. He had me turn you on so that when you left, you’d fuck the boys… and you did. You did exactly that,” Wil accuses, hate burning from his eyes. “A fluffer is someone used on a porn set. They arouse the actor before the scene is taped. I’m your fluffer, Syn. I’m your fluffer for Ez,” he spits in disgust.

“I want you and I won’t apologize for it. You’re the one who didn’t want me back,” I mumble, confusion and pain filling my voice.

“I was told to get you ready for Ezra. If I had sex with you and made it impossible to figure out the father without a DNA test, Mitchell was castrating me. Doesn’t matter if I want you or not, I can’t have you.”

Stunned, I stare at him. Wil unflinchingly stares back at me. His gaze is a challenge. The hate flowing off of him would make anyone look away, so I don’t. I’m stronger than the hurt he causes me.

“I won’t apologize. I’ve done nothing wrong. And even if it were wrong, I can’t do a damned thing to change it. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” he flatly says in a dead voice, “nothing.”

“I told you I loved you, and here you sit, looking at me like I’m evil, like you hate me,” I firmly say to cover my need to whimper.

“You don’t know me, Syn. You don’t know a thing about me. I never talk about myself
, and you never ask… and I don’t want you to ask- I told you that on our second meeting. How can you love someone you don’t know or understand? How? You can’t, that’s how. Yeah, I turn you on, but so does Ez. I didn’t need to be your fluffer, I already told Mitchell that. Ez burns in your blood. You and Caleb thrive on danger- Ez and I are dangerous to you, so you thrive on us. All you need is a little danger and you’re sopping wet. It’s like sleeping with a tiger- you don’t know if it will curl around you and protect you, or rip out your throat and eat you for dinner.”

“Do you blame me? Do you hate me? Do you love me?” I rapidly spit.
“Is that why you are doing this, why you’re saying this shit?”

Wil calmly shrugs. All he fucking does is shrug. He gives me impassive eyes with a blank expression on his face. He makes my blood boil and tears sting my eyes. Goddammit, I’d promised myself that Wil wouldn’t have this hold on me. I promised that I’d never cry for him again… and here I am, being
a dumbass teenaged girl with my head up my ass and my emotions flowing from my eyes. I trusted Wil, and he’d all but warned me not to.

“DID YOU EVER WANT ME?” I scream at the top of my lungs
, eyes bulging from the force of my words. “WERE YOU ALWAYS PLAYING ME? KEEPING AN EYE ON ME FOR YOUR ELDER?”

Another impassive shrug, followed by a, “does it really matter?”

Wil gets out of bed and silently glides to the door. With a twist of the knob, he leaves. After my shower, that door had still been locked from when we were escorted in here. I guess that is what is the most telling- actions are louder than words… and the sight of Wil’s back going out the once-locked door, screams of the truth.

~Chapter Sixty-
Eight~

“Snap out of it!” Ez’s sharp voice grates along my nerve endings. When my sobbing doesn’
t abate, a hand roughly yanks my hair, dragging me across the mattress. Strands of hair snap off, radiating sparks of pain along my skull. I heavily fall to the floor with a loud thump. The movement jars me when my tailbone slams into the wood flooring. Unsure on what’s happening, I sit there in stunned silence.

“We don’t have time for this shit,” Ez growls, followed by a burning sting to my cheek. My hand raises to rub
the spot Ez slapped me.

“
You hit me,” I mutter in disbelief, my words slurring. “You hit me with an open fist.”

“You should have hit me back,” Ez calmly says.

“You’re right, I should’ve,” I growl, anger clearing my head faster than anything else could have. My fingers hook onto the coverlet. I grip the blanket and use it to pull myself to my knees.

“Think about that
for a minute, Faith. What has Wil done to you? So what, he lied to you. Get over it- it isn’t even the thousandth lie he’s fed you. Wil lying to you is all about him. He has to live with it, but you sure as hell don’t. I get that you’re upset. The Faith I know wouldn’t cry- she’d be pissed, spitting mad and demanding blood. The Faith I know, wouldn’t have sat on the floor with her hand on her stinging cheek. She would’ve hit me back before my hand connected with her face. Don’t let Wil do this to you- it’s what they fucking want!”

“Why?” I whimper, knowing he can never explain the unexplainable.

“Because they can,” is all he says. The hand that smacked me wraps around my wrist and gently pulls me to my feet. “Don’t let them win. Sitting on the floor, crying and rocking back and forth, is what they want you to do. They want you to break. The Faith I know, she never breaks.”

“How can I trust you? How can I trust anyone? My God, it’s been nine months. Wil spent the past nine months with me every single day. We
’ve worked side-by-side training to be Paramedics. Now I alternate between him and Cory as my partner- every fucking day we go out on the streets and save lives. How can I ever trust anyone, if I can’t trust that?” I implore him, wide-eyed and feeling more vulnerable than I ever have in my entire life.

“You can’t, that’s how. You can’t trust me because I can’t trust myself. I’m betraying my other half right now. Don’t ever trust me. I guess saying that, in a way, means you can trust me. I will be honest with you. I don’t have the patience to knife you in the back, I will tell it to your face. Just know that I do care for you. I’m not sure what love is, but I hate seeing you in pain.”

“How do you live always looking over your shoulder, always calculating everyone’s intentions?”

“How?” Ez says, raising a sardonic blond brow. “You survive, that’s how. You do what you need to do to survive. You said it to Mitchell in front of everyone- you don’t go on faith, you use your instincts.”

“I did!” I fiercely hiss. “I did use my instincts with Wil, and he still fucked me over!”

“Bullshit!” Ez shouts in my face, lips twisted in a mocking smirk. “Bull-fucking-shit,” he slowly draws out. “You were going with your heart. You were blinded by lust… infatuation… hell, maybe even love… and they used your heart against you. Buck up, chickadee, it’s the oldest play in the book. Everybody falls for it eventually. It’s worse when the love of your life does it to you for no other reason than he’s running from himself. Is Wil your soulmate? Hell if I know…
maybe. Is Cortez mine? Hell yeah, he is, and worse, he knows it. Cort is mine, but he doesn’t believe I’m his. So it doesn’t matter… the only thing that will shred your heart is love. Harden yourself to survive if you have to. Word of advice, just don’t fracture, ‘cuz I’d hate to see what would manifest. You’d probably fuck people to death,” Ez maliciously teases, and shoves me to the bed.

“Do you think Wil hates me?” I ask in a small voice, frightened of what Ez will say.

Standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at me, Ez looks scary… and sincerely honest. “No, he doesn’t hate you. Wil hates himself. I told you he wouldn’t do it, and you didn’t listen. I knew what he was up to. I think what you really want to ask me is if Wil wants you. Yeah, he does, and badly. What the mind and body wants doesn’t mean shit when it comes to fear.”

“What are you talking about?” I mumble in confusion.

“You must be too close, either that, or you are blind. I used to think how I grew up was tragic. I’ve learned differently since I entered the game. My mom was cold, but she was always there for Divina, Cort, and me. Celeste was the kind of mom who baked cookies and kissed booboos. I guess Mom was the dad and Celeste was the mommy and Aunt Pearl picked up the slack. In retrospect, secrets aside, it was a dang good childhood. My insanity and the game tainted it. Your childhood, secrets aside, was fantastic. Your aunt was better than any mom and your dad loved and protected you. What more could you ever want?”

“Putting it like that, I guess we were very fortunate,” I grudgingly say, surprised that I never saw it that way before. My bitterness blinded me to what I had, to what was important.

“There are kids who aren’t so fortunate. Maybe you didn’t want to understand your grandfather, but I did. Your great-grandfather and his friends met over one common hobby, molesting their kids. That means the majority of the elders we have now are either molesters or molested. I saw your face, you understood what happened to Stanton and Caleb, but you failed to piece something else together.”

“That made me sick,” I whimper, bile rising in my throat. “I hope Stanton found some comfort from his father’s death, but I fear it was empty. I know he’s still messed up in the head- and to have to deal with what happened for his punishment.” I quickly wipe the tears away as they fall.

“See, I knew that’s all you heard. Um… I won’t lie to you, so I will tell you the truth. Stanton freaked the fuck out. He did what needed done, but in the end, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t perform because Gwen laid there like she was dead, inside and out. Grant became unhinged, pulling Stanton off of Gwen. Wil intervened, and they beat the shit out of each other- all three of them. Grant hitting Wil, Wil hitting Grant, and Stanton just took it from both of them. There was another reason for Wil not undressing, he is covered in bruises. Both men’s hands were torn up from the punches. They were fighting when you got to the meeting.”

“So, it was a horrible decision to send Grant and Roman home with Stanton?” I hide my head in my hands and whisper, “fuck.”

“None of that was about each other. They will kiss and make up. Those three men beat each other for different reasons- Grant defending your mom and Stanton and Wil because of their past.”

“What?” I bark.

“Mitchell had some fun at everyone’s expense tonight. I found out just as much at Stanton and Gwen’s punishments as I did at his little history lesson. JJ had a hard time raising Wil without a mom. He was always gone because of the game. He was left in his grandfather’s care. Do you not get that? He was alone with Jon… a lot. It wasn’t until JJ married Tori that he asked to be retired from the game. They let him go, but Wil had to stay. They created a family with Gretchen. Their lives evened out- that is when Wil finally got a family and a childhood, but it was short-lived. It only lasted for as long as Tori was alive.”

“I… I don’t…” I stutter out, refusing to believe what he’s saying.

“Yeah, you do. You get it. Jon’s favorite is little boys. Wil is scared. I can almost smell fear wafting from his pores. He acts all tough and unaffected- but that’s exactly what it is, an act. You ask if he wants you… probably, but I don’t think he knows it or understands it. Being insane makes it easier for me to understand those who aren’t normal. Wil’s emotions, mind, and body aren’t linked, similar to how my personality isn’t.”

“Are you advocating that I forgive him or something?” I gasp in shock- shock that I was too stupid to realize Wil was a survivor in his own right, and that Ez is standing up for Wil.

“No, I’m telling you that you can’t start anything with Wil until he is healed. He is broken. He can bite you one minute and hug you the next. He can love you and hate you. He can want you and be disgusted by you. His body will want sex, he’ll give in. But since he hates himself, he’ll hate you for wanting him, too.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because I hate myself more than anyone ever could,” Ez whispers, thinking I couldn’t hear him. “Truthfully, I want to go into psychology as a profession. I think I could help mend people’s fucked up minds, because mine is fucked up… I think I can understand them better than a shrink that’s never been out of control and confused… lost. I can relate.”

“Jesus,” I hiss, a maniacal laugh spilling from my throat. “Do we all want to become heroes to repent for our sins?”

Ez laughs with me for a moment and then sobers. “Yeah, I think we have to, or we’d fall from the edge. We’d go from evil with good intentions to purely evil.”

“You know Wil just narced on our plan, right? He pretty much told us to shut up about it, meaning around him.”

“Oh… yeaaaahhhh…” Ez drawls out, smirking like a crazy. “I thought of nothing else while I showered. In fact, I said that shit to send Wil in the wrong direction.”

Master
Ez crawls up the bed, prowls on all fours like a wild animal. Ez leans over me, and it’s the first time I notice that he is buck-ass naked… and very aroused. Ez grabs my thigh with his strong fingers and flips me over onto my stomach. He slides his velvety flesh up mine until he seats his arousal along the crack of my ass- fire ignites in my body. Yeah, Ez is dangerous. Clearly, that is a trigger for me- a thrill this side of death.

The whole
Ez, not Master Ez, was always turned-on. I don’t know about Ezra, because he never played with me. I never knew if it was me or Cort or the combination of us both that turned Ez on. Right now, Master Ez proves that he doesn’t care either way, he just likes sex… or maybe, he just likes strategizing a hunt, followed by a murder. Yeah, that’s what’s turning him on. And for some reason, I’m okay with it. It’s more honest than seduction. It’s raw and real, no matter how brutal it is.

The tip of Ez’s nose nuzzles my hair, moving it out of his way. The scorching length of his body seeps to my very core. He makes a thrumming sound deep from his chest, as if he’s purring in contentment. I melt into a puddle of confusion as I shamelessly lift my hips begging for his attention. I’d almost came earlier- Wil or not, conflicting emotions or not, my body thinks more like Ez. She was brought to the edge and denied. She’s frustrated and eager, and Ez is someone she intimately knows- physically knows better than anyone. She’s had Ez inside her body more than Cortez even, whether it be hand, mouth, ass, or cunt- Ez is the only man who has conquered everywhere and been asked to revisit.

Ez:
Boyfriend? No.
Lover? Never.
Welcome within my body? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Ez has respected me and been more honest
with me than any other man who has taken possession of my body. They all wanted to possess me- not Ez, never Ez. He never wanted anything from me- it wasn’t about what I could do for him. Ez is practical, and did what he needed to do to survive. It’s all the better that it felt good, too.