Consumed by Deception: Chapter 15

By the time we reach home, I’m fuming.

No, that’s an understatement.

I feel as if my emotions have reached the boiling point and will now spill over, leaving only havoc behind.

Not only am I sure my husband is behind my ex-colleague’s disappearance, but he also never thought about mentioning it to me. I wish I was being paranoid or distrustful or that I was merely assuming the worst about the situation.

I wish what I’m thinking was tied to my insecurities and painful memories.

But I’ve known Adrian for six years. And those six years started with me witnessing him finish a life. A life that he ended because the Italian men were watching me.

So no, I’m not paranoid to assume that he hurt Ryan somehow, that he’s the reason a lead dancer who was extremely disciplined when it came to work, disappeared without a trace.

Jeremy fell asleep on Adrian’s lap on the ride back and it took everything in me not to snap at my husband while his men were present.

After we get inside, Adrian carries Jeremy to his room. I go straight to the bedroom and keep the door open so that I can watch in case he decides to go to his office and ignore me.

I remove my coat and throw it on a nearby chair as I pace the length of the room. My body is burning with pent-up frustration to the level that even the air feels suffocating.

Soon enough, Adrian walks in and closes the door behind him. Before the click has barely echoed in the air, I’m in his face. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He turns away, simultaneously removing his coat. Oblivious to the change of atmosphere, he takes his time with the task, unhurriedly sliding it down his arms and hanging it up as if he has all the time in the world. Even his expression is neutral, unperturbed. “Something, like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, an incident that happened about six years ago?”

“A lot happened around six years ago, Lenochka. I met you, fucked you for the first time, put a baby in you, and married you. You’ll have to specify.”

“Ryan,” I grind out. “Is that specific enough for you?”

A shadow crossing his features is the only change in his demeanor before his composed expression returns as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls them over his defined forearms. “Ryan who?”

“Are you going to pretend you don’t even know him?”

“I’ve met a few Ryans in my life.”

“My co-lead, Ryan.”

“Former co-lead.”

“So you do remember him.”

“Yes. What about him?”

“What did you do to him, Adrian?”

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?”

I stagger backward, my jaw nearly hitting the ground. “You’re…you’re not even going to try to deny it?”

“Why would I?”

“You killed someone!”

“He was neither the first nor the last.”

“No…no, Adrian! He’s not like the criminals you’ve killed. He was a dancer with a bright future ahead of him and you…you just ended it as if it never existed.”

“Just like he ended your career.”

I gasp, covering my mouth with my trembling hands as the clash of what he’s said ripples through me like an aftershock. The complete apathy he speaks with renders me speechless, unable to gather my scattering thoughts and put them into words.

Having lived more than half a decade with him, I should’ve been used to his cold, unfeeling side by now. I should’ve considered his aloofness normal. But I guess someone like me will never be able to overlook that side of him, and I sure as hell will never understand it.

I let my hands fall to my sides as I hold on to a quivering thread of logic. “I jumped earlier than I was supposed to. It was an accident, not Ryan’s fault.”

“Yes, it was. Yan witnessed it and I saw it on the footage. Kolya and Boris did, too. That fucker could’ve caught you but chose not to.”

“And you saw all that through some footage?”

“Correct, because, unlike you, I read the worst in people before the good. In fact, I only see their bad side, and that blond bastard deserved every bullet I emptied into his body.”

My lips shake and nausea assaults me at the sadistic undertone in his voice. The tone that implies he enjoyed every second of killing Ryan and is not the least bit remorseful about it.

“You don’t even see what you did wrong, do you?” I whisper.

“I just told you he was the reason behind the end of your career and you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“Yes, Adrian! You’re wrong because you fixed something ugly with something way uglier. Did you think I’d be thankful that you killed someone? Or that I’d be flattered that you did it for me?”

“I didn’t expect you to be, no. That’s why I never told you.”

“What else haven’t you told me? Is there a line of other bodies you’ve killed for me buried somewhere?”

Adrian’s in my face in a split-second, his hand shooting out for me before I can make an escape. He imprisons my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to stare up at him. “So what if there are? What if there fucking are? You labeled me a killer, a devil, a monster, a stalker, a fucking villain. This is what villains do, Lia. We kill for our end goals, and we do it often. So get your head out of the clouds and stop pretending you’re not part of this, part of me.”

“You can chastise me all you want, but you won’t twist my morals. I’ll never get behind murdering people.”

“I don’t give a fuck whether you get behind it or not, but you will not question me when I make a decision with the intention of protecting you.”

“A decision like killing Ryan?” I bite out.

“Like torturing and killing Ryan, yes.”

“T-torturing?”

“He didn’t have the privilege to die fast so I—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear the details.”

“You brought this up, so you’ll hear all about how I cut his precious legs and stomped all over them. How I took a knife to his flesh and severed the tendons while he wailed and begged and pissed himself.”

“I said stop!” My voice chokes as the gruesome images fill my head.

“That’s what I do, Lia. I can’t stop when it comes to you. If I had a chance to go back in time, I would’ve ended his miserable life that day in the club when he dared to put his fucking hands on you. If I had, you wouldn’t have lost ballet.”

“But I lost it, Adrian. I’d already lost it. Did killing Ryan bring it back?”

“No, but it was a small price to pay. He deserved to die for driving you to stand on that windowsill with the intent of finishing your life.”

“You drove me to stand on a cliff ready to finish my life, too. Do you deserve to die for that?”

I regret the words as soon as I say them. Shit. I’m so pissed at him that I didn’t filter my thoughts. That’s not what I meant to say, it came out wrong, but before I can retract them, Adrian speaks with chilling quietness. “Probably. But I can’t die, because that will leave you and our son unprotected.”

“It’s not…I…”

He flattens his thumb against my lips, putting a halt to any words I can form. “Shhh. You’ve angered me enough for one day. You don’t want me to punish you more than what I’m already planning.”

My thighs clench at the promise of his punishment for me. My body doesn’t recognize the anger I still feel toward Adrian and his actions. Or maybe it does and it couldn’t care less, having grown accustomed to my husband’s cold-heartedness. He’ll never change, no matter what I do. He’s just wired differently and he doesn’t give a fuck about how that looks in the eyes of others.

Even mine.

In fact, he’s willing to go the extra mile to mold me to his ways. But that will never happen. Because I killed someone, and even though he was a criminal, that incident messed with my head so much, I’m surprised I was able to survive it. Barely.

Adrian removes his hand. “Strip.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“But why…?” It’s the first time he’s ever asked me to strip. Usually, he’s the one who does that, taking pleasure in yanking my clothes off my body and ripping my panties.

“Don’t ask questions. When I tell you to strip, you fucking strip, Lia.”

I flinch at the hard edge in his authoritative tone, but it’s not out of fear—at least, not entirely. My panties are soaked with arousal at the command in his voice and my hands instinctively go to the back of my dress. I don’t know if it’s the intrusive way he’s watching me or the unknown that’s waiting for me, but my hand is unsteady on the zipper as I awkwardly slide it down.

I let the dress pool around my feet and remain in my underwear. This is far from the first time I’ve been in this type of position in front of Adrian, but the novelty of how it started causes my nerves and anticipation to simultaneously escalate with each passing second.

He steps back, crossing his developed arms over his chest, and his muscles stretch beneath his shirt. “All of it.”

I hastily unhook my bra, letting it join the dress. My nipples instantly peak, and it’s less to do with the cold air and more because of his heated, dark gaze. He looks on the verge of either devouring or spanking me.

Or maybe devouring me while spanking me.

A shiver crawls its way up my spine as I hook my fingers in either side of my panties and slide them down my legs so they’re piled with the rest of my clothes.

By the time I stand again, a noticeable tremor is racking my body. What the hell? Why does it feel like my first time with him?

Or ever, actually. Because I don’t remember being this nervous or turned on the first time I had sex.

The fact that he’s only watching, not attempting to touch me, adds a different type of anticipation, one that coils at the base of my stomach and spreads all the way to my core.

“Now what?” I ask in a small, breathy voice that surprises even me.

He shakes his head once. “You don’t get to ask that. In fact, you don’t get to ask anything. This is your punishment, so if I tell you to stand like that until tomorrow, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

He wouldn’t be so cruel as to do that.

Though…he did say I angered him, so maybe that’s exactly his plan.

A weird sense of apprehension engulfs me and I attempt to grab my arm with my hand, but Adrian shakes his head again. “Drop it.”

I do, trembling as I remain completely exposed. Everything is visible to him from my abdomen scar to the older leg scar to the few stretch marks I have due to pregnancy.

Sometimes, I feel self-conscious about my body, especially since the end of my career. I’m no longer the toned, thin dancer with athletic legs and slim figure. Though I haven’t gained much weight, I’m not as fit as I was six years ago.

However, Adrian has never looked at me any differently. Not only has the hunger persisted in his gaze, but it also seems to intensify every time he touches me sexually.

It’s been years, six long years, filled with all sorts of things that should’ve turned him off, but he’s never looked at me differently from how he does right now.

With raw lust.

With a furious need to touch me.

I guess that’s how I’ve always looked at him, too, even when I haven’t wanted to show it. But for me, the arousal comes hand in hand with my feelings for him. I’ve wanted him more ever since I realized how irrevocably in love with him I am.

“Turn around and walk to the bed,” he commands.

I do so, adding a gentle sway to my hips as I feel his wild gaze on my back and ass. I can sense his need for ownership even without him having to say it.

“Get on your knees at the foot of it, face against the mattress and ass in the air.”

I suck a deep breath into my starved lungs and drop into position. He didn’t even touch me, but the friction of the duvet against my breasts makes me stifle a moan.

Adrian’s presence behind me is as real as air, impossible to ignore or live without.

The sound of him unbuckling his pants echoes in the silence of the room and I dig my fingers into the mattress when I turn around to watch.

“Eyes ahead, Lia.”

I comply even as I release a frustrated breath. Why is he the only one who gets to watch?

Dictator.

“Grab your ass cheeks and spread them. Show me that tight hole.”

I choke on my own breath for a second, my fingers trembling as I obey the command. God. He’s so full of perverted orders today. The fact that he’s never told me to do this before adds more stimulation to my already slick core.

And he hasn’t even touched me.

I’m pulling on my ass cheeks, fully aware that my back hole and the juices coating my pussy are in his direct line of view.

“You need to learn a lesson on not questioning my decisions, Lia.”

“But—”

“Shhh. If you’re going to open your mouth to disagree, it’s better if you keep it shut.”

I feel him kneeling behind me, his warmth radiating down my back and exposed flesh. “I’ll start with your ass and then your pussy before I whip you, and then I’ll go back to the beginning and do it all over again.”

My breathing crackles and my thighs quiver at the image he’s painted in my head.

“It’s been a long time since I fucked your tight ass, hasn’t it?”

I nod into the mattress.

“Use your words.”

“Yes…”

“How long?”

“Three months.” Since before I thought I was Winter.

“You’ve been counting, my Lenochka?”

I can feel the blood rising to my ears, nearly bursting them. “Yes.”

“Mmm. You miss being fucked in the ass until you scream, don’t you?”

I swallow.

“Answer.”

“Yes…I do.”

“Tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, Adrian.” I don’t even hesitate, the words falling from my mouth so naturally.

“But that means you’ll enjoy it when I want to punish you.”

“P-please…”

“Maybe we can come to a compromise then.” He shifts behind me. “Don’t move.”

I don’t, my heart thumping with increased intensity as he repositions himself. A cool liquid covers my back hole and before I can focus on the lube, Adrian grabs me by the hip and slams inside me in one go.

I gasp, my nails digging into my ass with the force of his thrust.

Holy. Shit.

I can feel him buried so deep in me, his cock pulling at my hole with a savageness that actually hurts.

“I told you. This is supposed to be a punishment.” His hot, dark whisper assaults my ear as he drives into me with ferocious vigor. My upper body slides back and forth on the bed with each urgent move.

I attempt to grab the mattress for balance, but Adrian’s voice stops me. “Don’t even think about releasing that ass. Keep holding it for me.”

He pulls out slowly, almost halfway, then rams back inside in sync with my scream. I try to wiggle, but he slaps my ass, wrenching a throaty mewl out of me.

“Move again and I’ll turn this ass red while I fuck it, Lia.”

His words spark against my flesh and rattle into my bones. And the only thought I have is that maybe I want that.

Maybe his depravity matches mine after all.

Otherwise? Why is my pussy dripping wet at the promise of his brutal punishment?

The pain soon mixes with pleasure as he shoves back in, his hips rotating to hit a deeper place with each thrust.

His free hand finds my swollen clit and he works it with masterful twists and strokes that leave me panting, begging, and unable to breathe properly.

It’s unbelievable how much of a hold he has on my body, how he can levitate me to a state of complete abandon in a matter of minutes.

But I guess it’s not only my body that he’s able to possess in this exhilarating yet frightening way.

It’s also my heart and my soul.

It didn’t even matter when I thought I was a different person. I fell in love with him all the same and I’m starting to think there’s no way out for me after all.

“Understand this, Lia. I would kill for you over and over again if I have to, and you will never, ever question that.” His thrusts are longer, harsher, as if he’s driving the point home with them.

I don’t last. I can’t. With the double assault on my ass and clit, I come apart with a hoarse cry, calling his name like a sacred chant.

Shit.

Maybe I am as defective as he is, because I’m orgasming while he’s promising to kill for me in the future. That he’ll never stop killing for me.

That he’s indeed a monster.

My monster.