Third Debt - Page 30/61

Sliding down his body, I hovered my mouth over his erection. “I love bringing you pleasure.”

His back shot upright as I guided him into my mouth, swirling my tongue and inhaling his taste.

His strong fingers slinked through my hair, holding me firm. His hips raised to meet my lips, pushing gently, pleading for more.

I didn’t deny him.

I let him set the rhythm, growing wetter with every stroke of his cock in my mouth. Then I was moving, gathered in strong arms, and placed on top of his naked body.

He didn’t speak as I straddled him, positioning myself over his cock.

We both cried out as I sank down his length.

Down and down. Deep and deep.

Planting my hands on his chest, I rocked on his huge size, shivering as he sheathed himself completely. Only once he’d claimed me did I open my eyes and look down.

The joy on his face.

The adoration in his gaze.

The blistering love in his every thought.

Tears bruised my eyes as he held up his hands and intertwined our fingers together. “I’m your anchor now, Nila. Ride me. Use me. Control me. I’ve always got you. I’ll always catch you if you fall—”

I fell backward, tumbling through a wormhole, falling, falling.

The delicious dream shattered.

My spine collided with soft carpet and my eyes shot wide. Gleaming silver wheels and narrowed bronze eyes welcomed me back to reality.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Scrambling to a sitting position, I wiped my eyes and hoped my cheeks weren’t flushed. Having an erotic fantasy was one thing. Having an erotic fantasy about the brother of the woman now glaring at me was entirely another.

“Normally, if a person doesn’t answer their door, it’s because they don’t want to be disturbed.”

“You ignored me. I had to take drastic action.”

Jasmine sighed. Her dark hair was flat on one side, her skin rosy from sleep. Looking past her, I noticed the covers of her bed were turned down and her nightgown of white cotton and forget-me-not blue ribbons covered her from head to toe.

I climbed to my feet. “If you don’t want to talk to me, tell me where his room is.”

“Where whose room is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, don’t play that game. You know who. If I knew where to find him in this godforsaken place, I’d go and camp outside his door instead of yours.”

She huffed. “Firstly, he’s not on this floor. Secondly, I wonder how long that would be permitted until Cut dealt with you.” Leaving me on the threshold, she wheeled herself back to bed.

I closed the door and followed. Standing awkwardly at the foot of the mattress, I whispered, “Do you want some help?”

Her head snapped toward me. “Do I look like I need help?” She waved around the empty room. “Do I have a maid to help me? Do you think I can’t manage even the simplest of tasks by myself?”

I flinched. “No, of course not.”

Keeping my fingers together, preventing any chance of reaching out, I stood fixed to the carpet as Jasmine locked the wheels and placed her hands on the bed.

It wasn’t high and with a small grunt, she hoisted herself from the chair and into the covers.

With brisk efficiency, she slid against her pillows, reached down to direct her legs from twisted and dangling to laying perfectly straight, then covered herself with the duvet.

“See?” she sneered.

I drifted forward, perching on the side. “You’re very proficient at that.”

A wry laugh escaped her. “I’ve had many years to get used to it.”

Awkward silence fell; I struggled for another topic. “Were you born this way?”

Her eyes glinted. “No.”

My heart banged at her simple but very revealing answer. Deciding I had nothing left to lose, I murmured, “Did someone do this to you?”

Her face shut down. She pointed at the door. “I want you to leave.”

“No. Not until you tell me where I can find Jethro.” And explain what happened while I was gone.

She crossed her arms, pouting like a little child surrounded by yellow-lemon pillows. “You come into my room and demand to know where my brother sleeps. God, you’ve got some nerve.” She cocked her head, her bob slicing her jawline. “What? So you can kill him or fuck him?”

I coughed with surprise. “You sound just like him. He said the exact same thing when he dragged me up here for the Tally Mark.”

Jasmine sucked in a breath. “Well…which one is it?”

I sat straighter. Now might be my only chance to get Jasmine on my side. In order to find the truth, I had to give it. No matter how revealing it would be. “I’m in love with your brother. I hate him most days, but that doesn’t stop my idiotic heart from loving him. I love the goodness buried inside. I love the way he wants to be better but can’t. I love the way he touches me. And I’m not ashamed to admit I love sleeping with him.”

My cheeks flared, but I continued boldly, “He’s mine as much as yours. I’m not your enemy, Jasmine. I want to be your friend.”

Silence fell, thick and cloying.

She never stopped glaring.

Fear darted down my arms. “What happened the day the police came? Before that, you were…nice to me. You were welcoming. But now…you hate me.” Hanging my head, I said, “I didn’t leave of my own free will. You know that.”

Animosity swirled thicker, webbing us together.

Finally, she sighed. “I know you didn’t go freely.”

“Then why punish me? My brother meddled in things he doesn’t understand. I know it cost Jethro hugely, but it wasn’t my fault.”

She stared at the ceiling, battling a sudden glisten in her eyes. “But it was. It was both our faults. I pushed him to let you inside him, and you won by making him care. We both made him so vulnerable. Cut…” She looked away, biting her lip.

I inched closer, patting her knee. I didn’t know if she could feel it, but I squeezed anyway. “What did he do to him?”

Jasmine plucked the bedspread. “I don’t know. Kite won’t tell me. I can’t get through to him. Not like I used to.” Her gaze latched onto mine. “He won’t talk to me. He won’t even come see me. He’s cut Kestrel out, too. He doesn’t ride anymore. It’s like everything that made him my broken brother has been lost.”

My soul cracked at the thought. “It can’t be lost. There must be a way to change whatever Cut did.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’ve never seen him this cold, this remote. He’s exactly like our father, and it terrifies me to think I’ve lost him.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I suppose in a way, I should be grateful. At least he’s still breathing.”

My world stopped. “What do you mean?”

Jasmine scowled. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. You must’ve guessed what would happen when you walked out of Hawksridge and never looked back.”

“He told me not to look back,” I snapped. “He forced me to obey by using my love against me.”

Her face turned frigid with anger. “Yes, but you could’ve found a way to come back sooner. You must’ve believed Bonnie when she said you’d earned your freedom at the cost of another.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore.

Jasmine scoffed. “My father is doing everything in his power to destroy your line because of some stupid ancient vendetta that should’ve been dismissed centuries ago. If he can do that to innocent people, what does that mean for the ones being groomed to take over his throne?” She suddenly leaned forward, snatching my hand off her knee. Her French-manicured nails dug into my skin. “Whatever Jethro has done or whatever Cut threatened him with is the last resort. I thought I would never see my brother again. I thought the moment you walked out of Hawksridge Jethro would disappear, too. But he didn’t. He’s still alive—but God only knows what stipulations Cut placed on him.”

She jerked me closer. “Just stay away from him. Don’t try to find him. Don’t try to love him. Don’t try to do anything to upset whatever balance he’s been able to find. I miss him, but I’d rather have him unattainable and alive than caring and dead.”

She threw my hand away. “Now leave, before I call security.”

I stood, moving quickly to her door. I needed to go before I burst into tears at the sheer hatred she had for me. Every word was delivered with fury and dislike. I was no longer a friend but foe.

How could she switch so easily?

How could she give up on Jethro when I knew he was so close to snapping back?

She’s protecting him. She thinks there’s no hope.

“Oh, and Nila?”

My eyes met Jasmine’s. She said in a monotone, “Don’t ever come back here. Leave my brother alone. Let this madness end. I’m begging you.”

It wasn’t until I’d descended the stairs and entered my own quarters that I unravelled the message in her final words.

Let this madness end.