The walls were decorated with floor-to-ceiling racks. Bolts and bolts of every colour fabric imaginable hung enticing and new. Ribbon spools, lace sheaves, threads of every style and width rested on huge tables groaning with scissors, needles, chalk pens, and tape measures.
In the centre of the room stood three sizable busts, two full-size models to design the perfect dress on, and a skylight above, which drenched the space in natural light.
Comfy couches, love-seats, and velour stylish chairs were scattered beside bookcases full of histories of fashion; there was even a fish tank in the corner with tropical fish glowing in pristine turquoise water.
My fingers ached to touch everything at once.
Then my eyes dropped to the carpet.
Deep emerald richness glowed with elegance and the repeating design of W.
“This is the Weaver quarters. They’re only shown and offered when the current Weaver fully understands her place.”
I couldn’t stop my smirk, turning to stare at him. “I haven’t learned my place.”
His face remained locked of emotion. “No, you haven’t. And my father won’t be happy that I’m giving you this so soon, but…things changed.”
My heart sprung into an irregular beat, waiting for him to continue.
But he didn’t.
Moving through the room, he stood out in his black shirt and grey slacks like a spot of ink or a stain on such pretty fabric. He didn’t belong.
I followed him. Finally seeing what I should’ve seen all along.
He doesn’t belong in these rooms.
He doesn’t belong in this house.
He doesn’t belong with this family.
Everything I knew about Jethro was wrong. And despite his task and our fates that were horribly entwined and shadowed with death, I wanted to know him.
Following him through the space, I slammed to a stop as he spun to face me.
His face twisted. “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to discuss what’s happening or even try to fucking understand it.”
My stomach flipped over at the lust glowing in his gaze. “Okay…”
Closing the distance between us in one large stride, he captured my cheeks, holding me firm. “I want to fuck you again. So fucking much.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“You’re asking my permission?” I whispered.
His face contorted. “No, I’m not asking for your damn permission.”
“Then…just do it.”
The air solidified and for a second, I thought he’d throw me away and storm off.
But then his fingers dug into my cheeks and his mouth crashed against mine.
WHAT THE FUCK am I doing?
I’d spent the past week working for my father, having sessions with my sister, and running the latest diamond shipment—not to mention the frantic hour I’d had after fucking her and sneaking into the security room to destroy the camera footage.
I was playing with fucking fire. And instead of getting burned and becoming a puddle of melted ice water, I was stronger, better, firmer in my convictions than I’d been in…well, forever.
I didn’t understand how the direct contradiction to my world could improve me rather than destroy me.
I knew I should question it—find answers rather than keep going down a path I didn’t understand, but how could I stop when Nila was at the end, beckoning with a corrupting smile, spreading her legs in wanton invitation?
I wasn’t a monster, but I wasn’t a fucking saint either.
My willpower to stay away had snapped this morning when I’d seen her disappear into the gardens with a hungry haunt in her eyes.
I liked to think that look was for me.
But then she’d kissed my fucking brother.
Nila’s hands flew up, her fingers slipping through my hair. She moaned, sucking on my tongue, driving me mad.
My stomach swooped as my cock instantly thickened.
If she was hungry, then I was fucking ravenous.
Her cheeks were pliant beneath my fingertips. Our tongues meshed and parried. Her soft moan echoed in my chest, and I couldn’t stop myself from walking her backward to the bed.
Countless evenings Cut had told me how I was to fuck her the first time. A game plan of pain, torture, and no pleasure permitted for her. That was part of the Third Debt—amongst other things.
But here I was again. Disobeying.
Fucking disobeying everything I was, just for one little taste.
My cock wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near her for months. How did this happen? How was I so weak when it came to her?
Nila cried out as the back of her legs crashed against the bed. She tumbled from my grip, her cheeks pinpricked with red from where my fingertips had dug into her flesh.
My dick had never been so hard as she clambered onto her knees and looped her arms around my neck, jerking me close.
I should stop this. I should walk out the fucking door and lock it. Better yet, I should strike her and make her cry—instil a healthy dose of fear into the woman who was supposed to be my toy. Not my master.
“Jethro—please…stop thinking. I can hear your thoughts; they’re so loud.”
I reared back. “What?”
If she could hear my thoughts, why the hell wasn’t she running? Couldn’t she see the danger? Didn’t she understand the nightmare this could turn into?
I not only played with my life but hers, too. Death wouldn’t be given lightly if Cut found out. He’d make her beg for it. He’d tear her apart piece by piece for every delicious feeling she invoked in his firstborn son.
Every kiss, every touch—I was sentencing her to worse than any debt she could repay. And all for what? Because I was fucking weak. Weak. Weak.
You can have today.
I’d premeditated this—that was how addicted I’d become.
‘Someone’ had spilled something sticky onto the security hard drive; a new part had to be ordered before the cameras in the Weaver quarters would be operational.
I calculated two days, possibly three, before it was replaced.
Two or three days to fuck her as much as I could, before going cold-turkey and forgetting that this ever happened.
“Kiss me,” she murmured, her black eyes glittering with lust.
A smile tugged the corner of my mouth. “Aren’t those the two words that got us into this mess?”
She grabbed the front of my shirt, her expert fingers undoing the buttons in record time.
My head fell back as her tiny hands splayed on my chest and tickled their way around to my spine.
She pulled me close, sealing her lips over mine.
The second her taste entered my mouth, I snapped again.