Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

Laura

P hoenix wasn't beside me when I awoke, and hadn't touched me as he slept next to me either.

Instead of the relief I should have felt, I wondered what had changed.

He'd told me he was obsessed with me, but while I'd laid next to him and awaited the pressure of his warm arms wrapping around me, he'd rolled over and just slept.

You don't want him.

But you enjoyed being wanted.

Letting out a groan, I flopped myself back onto the pillow. It wasn't some twisted fairytale. What did I think would happen? That I could fall in love with the monster who took me and he'd suddenly turn into a prince? No. My prince had shot me in the chest and called a monster to burn me.

What a joke.

My life had been pointless. All those lessons in etiquette and social class, and I was stuck with Phoenix and Muffin in the back of beyond. Everything was for nothing.

And yet, there was peace in the loss too.

My days were empty, but there was no social pressure either. No one to live up to or impress.

Phoenix burst through the door, making me shriek. His mask covered his lower face, but delight lit up his eyes. If I hadn't known what lay beneath the mask, I'd have thought he was smiling.

‘What is it?' I asked, curiosity piquing my interest.

He crossed the room and grabbed my hand, all but pulling me out of the bed. A chill hit my naked legs as he dragged me along, down the stairs and out into the misty morning.

‘Phoenix! I'm not even dressed. What are you doing?'

For the first time I was glad there were no neighbours to see me out in a t-shirt and underpants.

We stopped a few minutes from the cottage, where Muffin stood.

‘Oh hey boy,' I said, reaching out to give his neck a scratch.

Phoenix tapped on my arm before taking an apple from his pocket. Using his bare hands, he twisted it in half before offering a piece to the pony.

I watched, confused by his excitement.

Muffin took the apple from his fingers, before accepting a petting. Phoenix looked up at me, his fingers lost in the shaggy ponies soft fur.

Realisation hit.

All his time on the island, and he'd never touched the ponies ?

‘He never let you pet him before?' I asked, stepping closer and running my fingers through Muffin's mane. The pony nudged at Phoenix's other hand, encouraging him to hand over the other half of the apple.

Phoenix shook his head before signalling to his face.

‘You thought it was because of your scars?'

He nodded.

‘It's more likely because you storm about looking like you're ready to punch people in the face at the drop of a hat. Animals can sense it. I'm not sure they care much about scars.'

Phoenix's fingers grazed over the edge of his mask, skimming his scarred cheek and for a moment I saw the boy from the diaries. The fear, the loneliness, the kid who lost everything. A reflection of me. Lost and alone. Alone, but together.

The urge to hug him swept me, the hair on my arms lifting at the thought of willingly embracing him. Swallowing hard, I thrust the urge away, clenching my fingernails into my palms.

Being lonely wasn't a reason to give into him. He took me. Stole me away.

He is the enemy.

‘I need to go shower,' I said, taking an awkward step backward. Phoenix's fingers stilled on Muffin's soft nose and he gave a nod. Knowing how excited he'd been, it was like kicking a bloody puppy.

C heese bubbled out of the edge of my sandwich as it toasted. The crisp, browning bread made my mouth water and it couldn't cook fast enough.

My stomach rumbled angrily, roiling with each passing moment.

Finally, I swept it out of the pan, piercing it with a fork and moving it onto my waiting plate.

Phoenix sat on the rock beside me, his pink-filled glass clenched in his hand.

‘I'm sorry you have to keep drinking that stuff.'

Phoenix shrugged, turning away as he slipped the straw beneath his mask. The fire light flickered over his tightly muscled forearms and I swallowed hard, trying to push the thought of them wrapped around me away.

There were too little distractions on the island. Bar Muffin, it was Phoenix and I. Days spent awkward and then nights with him driving me to the point of wanting to beg for his touch. My brain felt utterly scrambled.

I wanted to push him off of the cliff top as much as I wanted him to just take what he demanded of me. He made me promise to give him what he wanted, and I had expected him to just want to use me. But he wanted more. He wanted my consent. He wanted me to need it.

I couldn't let myself go there.

He stole me from my life, no matter how shattered it had become. Refusing to ask for it was the only control I had left.

The hot toasted edge of the sandwich crunched between my fingers. Tearing off a chunk, I slipped it into my mouth, closing my eyes at the rich, creamy bubbling cheese. Back home I'd eaten from top chefs menus, at the most elite parties and restaurants, yet never had I tasted something that hit the spot so thoroughly.

Birds fought over the crust I tossed near the edge of the water. Phoenix finished his shake and turned back toward the fire, mask firmly in place.

Silence enveloped us. There was so much quiet. Too much.

‘Did you know we were supposed to marry?'

Phoenix shook his head.

‘Massimo and I. It was the eve of our wedding. I was so fucking excited. It was pathetic. At first I hadn't even wanted to marry him, but he sent me all these letters which completely won me over.'

Phoenix watched me as I spoke, his gaze palpable on the side of my face while I stared at the fire.

‘They were so sweet, full of romance and heat. God, I was such an idiot. It was nothing but a business deal to him. For so many nights I'd pored over his letters, analysing every word, committing them to memory. I thought I was finally going to have someone who adored me, but I was nothing to him.'

My voice cracked as I spoke, my lap covered in crumbs from tearing my sandwich into tiny pieces.

‘How could I have believed he'd feel like that about me? He's handsome, and wealthy, and could have any woman he wanted. I was utterly deluded. He took everything from me, and for what? More money? To save face when my father screwed him over.'

Rage flowed through me as I babbled.

Scarred fingers grazed over my leg, and it took everything to focus in on the little letters Phoenix drew there.

You're perfect .

He didn't deserve you .

I scoffed and moved away from him, scraping my leg on the sharp edge of one of the rocks.

‘Fuck,' I hissed through my teeth as a line of red welled from the scrape. Blood dripped as I jumped up.

Phoenix didn't pause, he stood, placing his glass down and scooped me up in his arms.

‘I can walk,' I said in a meek voice. I didn't want him to carry me, but having his arms wrapped around me was a balm I sorely needed. How long had it been since I'd had a hug?

Too long.

Warmth from his chest seeped into me. He traversed his way to the cottage and ducked us through the door. When he deposited me on the kitchen table, I almost broke and begged him to keep holding me. I urged on the last bit of will power I had, and pushed the desperation for human touch back down.

Phoenix rooted through the cabinets until he found an ancient looking green box. It clanked with a metallic thud as he placed it down on the counter beside me.

Flipping open the lid revealed a little stash of medical supplies. He picked up a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton pads and knelt between my legs, gently cupping the back of my injured calf.

He wiped my cut with a slow, steady sweep of the cotton, making me wince. The antiseptic stung, and I bit down on my lower lip to stop me from cursing at him.

He blinked up at me through dark lashes, reaching for a large sticking plaster from the tin.

God, a woman could lose herself entirely in those dark eyes. They were like voids that screamed of pain and loneliness, but ringed with so much promise too. Eyes of two sides, like Jekyll and Hyde. A monster and a saviour all in one twisted shell.

‘I never thanked you,' I said, ‘For fixing me after Massimo shot me.'

Phoenix's jaw flinched beneath the mask, the edges flaring outward.

DON'T WANT TO HEAR HIS NAME ON YOUR LIPS.

His fingers skimmed up toward my thighs as he wrote on my skin, pushing them apart.

His mask was level with my pussy, the heat from his breath evident against my shorts.

Holding my breath, I waited to see what he'd do.

Phoenix pressed his face against me, the pressure instantly igniting my need for his touch. But there was no way he could go down on me, not with his scarred mouth.

Gripping his hands around my ass, he pulled me forward to the edge of the counter and buried his face between my thighs. Phoenix inhaled deeply through his nose, my face burning. I didn't have time to worry about him smelling me though. He ground his face into me, using his chin and face to bring a desperate moan tumbling from my lips.

I tried to resist. To keep still and pretend like it did nothing for me, but the sheer filthiness of him rubbing his face against me had me trembling against the counter within minutes. When he hummed with pleasure, it was too much to bear.

Arching my hips, I rode his face, losing all composure. Heat built in my groin, pressure increasing with each graze of his masked face. My clit throbbed, and I wanted to tear my fucking clothes off and beg him to fuck me right there.

I wanted more.

No, I needed more.

‘Phoenix,' I moaned, my voice barely a croak.

My utterance made his whole body stiffen as he panted against my wet shorts. His eyes darkened and he stood, pulling me to my feet.

I squeaked at the sudden movement, already missing his face between my legs, air cooling the fire there without him.

He drove his fingers into my hair, tipping my head back and forcing me to look into his face.

BEG

He wrote the word against my neck, my pulse beating beneath his fingers. My stomach lurched at the demand, my hackles raising at his insistence on making me ask for it.

‘No.'

His eyebrows creased before he released me from his grip and made space between us.

‘I won't beg for it. Never.' My words were harsh, but still didn't cover the need beneath them.

He grabbed a marker from a pot on the counter and wrote on one of the kitchen cupboards in sure strokes.

You will. You'll beg every time you want to come. You'll get on your knees. Every. Single. Time.

I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Never.'

No matter how much he inflamed my needs, it was just that, a passing buzz. Something to pass the time while I was stuck with him. I didn't want him. Not really. Not if I could be anywhere else. With anyone else.

He was just like Massimo. Mind games and power play. Except nothing like him at all, really.

And you'll enjoy it. You'll come harder than you ever have.

My mouth hung open as he wrote those final words before dropping the pen on the counter and giving me a cocky look.

The absolute fucking big headed twat.

I'd never beg.

Never.

Never.

Never.