The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) (9 page)

“I lie to you constantly, Keaton. The sad thing is, I don’t think you’ll ever know what’s true and what’s false about me.”

-THE SECT

I enjoyed when Keaton was miserable. She would remain that way until she realized D.C. was no longer her home. Naked and lying in bed, I was nearly satisfied after fucking her into a pain-induced stupor last night and into the afternoon the next day—with breaks.

She paced around the space, wincing, and obviously feeling every inch of the pain I left her with last night. Her pain and distress were my most fulfilling kinks. I’d never had a hit of a drug that got me as high as it did when I watched her while she was in pain, and at one point, her pleasure. Things had shifted since we returned to her hometown. Her grief superseded what I felt when I got her off. It turned her compliant, and her tears made me come just a little harder.

Dressed in some kind of frilly black dress, she waited for a beat to look at me. Thinking about last night, my cock began to dance, getting hard. The blood I evoked from her pussy was barely dry on the tip of my dick. I was ready to draw more blood and tear her apart until she was immobilized for a week or two.

My cock slightly wilted when I saw a rolling bag not far from where she stood. She stepped in front of it and tried to hide it from me but failed epically. 

I rose from the bed, letting the sheet drop to the floor and reveal my body. I stepped toward her, ready to fuck her common sense back into her. “Get back in bed, princess.” I grabbed her waist from behind and leaned forward sinking my teeth into her earlobe. “You were so well behaved last night. I think you deserve to be rewarded for your obedience. I’m going to make your cum flood in my mouth and on my cock. Would you like that, princess?”

She turned in my arms and had an issue with looking directly into my eyes.
So submissive…like a good girl should be.
 

“It’s my mother’s first fundraising event. I told you about it days ago. After you missed my friend’s dinner, I assumed you weren’t going. But after last night? I don’t want you to go. I’m moving back in with my parents.”

My heart began to race. My blood pumped, rapidly thrumming in my ears. 

“Noah—”

Firming my hold on her, the pads of my fingers dug into the material of her dress at her back. She yelped for me. Sliding my hand down and up her dress, I fingered the crotch of her panties. With a strong tug, the frail material fell from her body. Her panties slid down her legs, falling to the floor. The soft lips of her pussy throbbed at my fingertips. My rough motions elicited winces and soft cries. I drew up my fingers, sprinkled in bits of her blood. Sliding my fingers inside my mouth, I moaned at the metallic taste coating my tongue. A hand roamed down her body, finding her pussy again and slowly strummed her clit with my thumb. “Are you going to take off that dress, or am I going to have to?”

“I have to go.” Her body quaked against me. “Don’t try to keep me from leaving you, Noah. You can’t.” Her lip quivered as she inclined her head to look at the floor. “I don’t want to be here with you and your new version of Rebirth.”

“How long are you going to keep this up?” I asked, diverting the conversation to put her on the path of least resistance. I would remind her daily of how much she was an outcast in her mother’s world. 

There was one place she fit perfectly, and that was with me. 

“You can’t stop lying to yourself and believing that you belong here.” I circled my thumb against her clit as it got wet and swelled under the pads of my fingertips. I moved my fingers to hold her clit and make it harden a bit more. Her blinking slowed, her face softened, indicating that the pleasure was overriding her pain. “You’re different.” I moved my fingers faster, making her reach out and brace herself with her hands on my shoulders. “You’re not cut out for them and their false utopia and fucked up views of the world. You belong in my world with me.” I stared at her and moved faster. She closed her eyes. Her straight posture took a dive. With a small, little cry she came for me. I brushed her hair past her shoulder and kissed her ear. “Take off your fucking dress.”

Trailing her eyes up to me, her tears spilled onto her cheeks. She pressed her lips together, her face turning flush. She pushed against my chest and tried to push me away. I held her tighter until she gave up her fight. Releasing her, I reached up her dress and inched one finger inside of her.

 She began to sob and shake her head while simultaneously fighting with a moan.

I chuckled at her while I slid my finger in and out of her cunt, dripping with her juices. “When have your tears ever stopped me, princess? I like them.”

“What is wrong with you?” Her voice shook in sync with her thighs as she whispered to me. “What happened to the man you used to be? Why do you keep breaking your promises to me? You said you would never force yourself on me.”

“I can’t force myself on you when your body is branded with my signature, and I know what it really wants. You don’t, and you never did.” Grabbing the crown of her hair, I jerked her head back. My fingers slithered out of her and began to circle her clit again. It began to throb and harden under my fingertips. She tried to stifle a moan but failed. “Sometimes it’s a little trying to be the one who’s always right. For the unnecessary fight, I might make you plead for it.” 

She began to fight me—
really
fight me. As in scratch my neck with her cat like claws and slap any part she could make contact with repeatedly. And then…came the screams. Not the pain-induced ones I preferred, but the lioness roars.

 “You are missing the tools to fuck with me, princess,” I warned, her fight making me lose my patience.

She flailed her arms making her weight in my grip unsteady. I could barely hold onto her and remain standing. Grabbing my shoulders, she brought me down with her. She landed hard underneath me on the floor with a slap, breaking my fall.

I pulled her arms up, pinning them above her head and straddled her body, sitting on her thighs to keep her still. Holding her jaw with my free hand, I threw her head backward, only needing to do it once to turn her complaint. “Are you done with your temper tantrum?”

She blinked up at me, having difficulty focusing. “You said I should never love you because you wouldn’t know how to handle it. I don’t love you, Noah. You don’t have to treat me this way to make me feel something else—to push me away.”

I didn’t want to show her how what she said burned me a little, but it did, and I couldn’t hide it. Why did I care if she loved me or not? I shouldn’t have. I didn’t need her love, her pity, or any of the emotions I categorized as unnecessary vulnerabilities. I only wanted her submission.
Then, why the hell did what she said irritate me so much?

I let go of her hands and bounded to my feet. I reached down and took her hand, helping her to stand. There was a sudden need to show up and be there with her for several reasons. There was only one I could admit to: If I didn’t, she would continue to fight me like she had, and all that I had done would be for not. She was becoming a wild stallion, needing to be saddled in a very particular way to force compliance.

Her friends and her family had gotten inside her head and were putting a widening gap between her and me. To erase the space, I had to show up and let her—and them—know that no one could take her from me.

What they didn’t know and would be made aware of tonight, is that I never come into a situation unprepared. I had information on everyone who was of importance to Keaton. If they kept impeding on what I had with her, the information would be used to my advantage.

 “Hey,” I said quietly and dropped my head. “At times, I want to possess you so badly. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re mine and that you remember you’re mine. Stay. Be patient. Things will change. I will show you what you want to see if you can tolerate the things you don’t want to see. I need you at my side so I can see my way through everything that I have to do. My mission. My purpose. You are a big part of that purpose, Keaton. You have to stay.”

The fire was extinguished from her eyes and she relaxed. Her expression could be categorized as pleasantly shocked. 

“If this thing tonight is important to you, you shouldn’t go alone. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll go.”

She put her arms around my waist and rested her cheek against my bare chest. Unseen from her view, I grinned broadly as I held her.

“What’s happening to you, Noah?”

Ignoring her question, I wiped the grin from my face and kissed the top of her head. “I won’t take long to get ready.”

IT WAS WHAT I expected—actually, it was worse than I expected. The mucky-mucks rubbing elbows with one another, lying through their teeth about what they had and what they were about. I was never much of a drinker, but tonight changed that. On my second glass of whiskey, thanks to an open bar, I played the part of the loner who had no desire to speak with anyone. 

Keaton mingled with a woman in a red power-suit while standing beside her mother. Keaton wore her beauty contest fake grin and shook hands with several people as her mother dragged her from one huddled crowd to the next. 

It was sickening to watch the way her mother whored her out to gain sponsors and donations for a senate race she had no chance of winning. Not because she was incapable. I could see the ambition in Sherilynn’s eyes. If untested, she could go as far as she dreamed she would. She wouldn’t stop at the senate race; a woman like her would never be satisfied. If she desired it strongly enough, she could make it to the top. It would be a problem for me, because I was tied to Keaton. It would bring unwanted attention. I had no reason to allow Sherilynn to win.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” A man, short and chunky, waddled up to me while pointing his finger at me.

I took a gander through the crowd, making sure no one had eyes on me. I wrapped my hand around his neck and shoved him into a quieter space down the hall. Balling my fist, I punched him in the gut. He coughed and wheezed.

“You don’t know me,” I warned him. “You never met me, and you never saw me. Are we clear?”

He bobbed his head repeatedly as he strained to breathe.

I let him go and straightened out my tie. “Go back and mingle, Mr. Seres. I’m sure you don’t want your lovely wife to know how you like to murder naughty prostitutes who set up their johns to be robbed and killed by their pimps, do you?” 

He gawked at me in shock. 

My memory is solid. He was one of the Elites at Rebirth who wanted to avenge his son’s death. His son had an addiction to prostitutes. After his father—the man in front of me—cut him off, his son was forced to turn to seedier ways of satiating his need. He turned to a prostitute known for having her pimp set up marks; he would steal from the johns and eventually kill them. 

Mr. Seres killed the pimp and the prostitute first. He came back for more wayward and evil prostitutes to kill until his wife became suspicious of his constant “vacations.” He was too important and wealthy to kill—besides, I never pegged him as purely evil. He was simply a man grieving over the loss of his son and had no makings of becoming a deranged killer.

Mr. Seres and I parted ways after it was clear he understood my warning. I scanned the crowd through the doorway, and my attention was drawn to the woman standing directly in front of me—most likely, able to see my entire interaction with Mr. Seres.

I plastered on my charming smile for Sherilynn, the one that had won her over the first time we’d met. “I can explain that situation.”

“Can you?” she asked, her mouth still slacked. 

“He had some disparaging things to say about you and your daughter. He needed to be…quieted.”

“Did he?” she asked, finally swallowing.

“He did, and you’re welcome.”

She looked over her shoulder for a second then back at me. “This is a highly important function for me, Noah. We do not handle our problems this way. We’re not street thugs or criminals. If there’s someone who says anything against my daughter or me, come to me. Physical violence will only bring about lawsuits and negative publicity at a time when I need all the good press I can muster.”

“You’re Keaton’s mom, not mine,” I reminded her, my smile fading. “Your campaign has nothing to do with me. If it did, I would call you on the carpet for the way you’re treating your daughter; like a political whore. You’re selling her story for sympathy and sponsors. I could call you on the carpet about a lot of your misdeeds, Sherilynn. My suggestion? Let’s not make a big deal out of the minor things, and we’ll both walk away happy.”

She gasped loudly and clutched her throat.

I brushed past her and walked out. 

Needing air, I went outside.