Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Líadan

" B rendan," I say, curled up on the sofa. Anxiety is crawling through my body, and I need it fucked or spanked out of me. Shifting, I check the time, seeing that Jordan went upstairs eight hours ago and hasn't made a sound.

"Yes, baby?" he asks, climbing onto the couch with me and putting his head in my lap. For a killer, I love the cuddles I get from him.

Sighing, I run my fingers through his hair as I take a long sip of water.

"Do you think we should check on Jordan?" I ask. "I didn't hear the water run, and he's been really quiet."

"Are you worried?" he asks, eyes closed as he wraps his arms around me. "I doubt he slept well on the wall, Lía. I don't think they pulled him down until the last possible moment. Jordan looked like he was going to fall down when Bruin dropped him off. The only thing keeping him upright was how fucking bullheaded he is."

"That's kind of what I like about him," I whisper, blushing. "I figured he'd be mad when he found out who I was, but he almost seemed uncaring and blasé about it. As if it was just one more bullshit thing the world was throwing at him today."

It's dark outside, and the streetlights have all turned on. It's almost ten at night by this point. I didn't expect him to be happy that I'm both the Banshee and my father's daughter, but I thought I'd get more of a reaction.

"This man is used to wearing a mask, same as you, milseán ," Brendan says, yawning. He had a busy day, I'm unsurprised that he's tired. "Jordan's looks a little different than yours. You not only have the very literal mask that you wear, but also the Ice Queen resting bitch face, that I love to watch crack just for me. Did you notice how he swallowed every scream and mouthed off at me. Jordan doesn't bend for anyone."

"He is for Daddy," I remind him.

"I would do a lot of really fucked up things if your happiness was on the line, much less your life, baby," he growls. "Why should Jordan be any different? Willing to throw away your morals for the people you love doesn't mean you're a pushover, Lía. You know better than that. Now, if you want to check on Jordan, get up and do it."

"Ugh," I sigh, nudging him off of me.

Brendan pouts as he gets up, which is adorable. Ya know, for a man who is six-foot-three and two hundred pounds, the man is solid muscle. So if he didn't want to move, he simply wouldn't.

Standing, I walk toward the stairs. I changed hours ago into comfortable house clothing, knowing I wasn't leaving the house today. I'm wearing thick wool socks that go up to my thighs, a long-sleeved shirt without a bra, and my hair is out of it's normal messy bun. It was starting to give me a headache.

Even though I started to climb the stairs slowly, I find myself moving faster as I get to the top. There's this anxiety clawing at me, because I know none of his wounds over the last several days have been looked at. I really need to see him, or I'll be a wreck all night.

I don't know him, and we've only had a few interactions, but I'm inexplicably pulled to him. Brendan was right when he said he was surprised by my reaction to Jordan. I dislike most people, particularly those who own a cock.

Knocking quietly on the door, I open it slowly, finding the room completely dark. Biting my lip, I leave the door open to use the hall light, and wait for my eyes to get used to the darkness. Jordan is sprawled out on the bed, his face buried in the mattress as he snores lightly. Bubbles of laughter fill me, though they don't escape me.

They haven't in years.

I can't laugh unless I'm hurting someone anymore, and even that isn't from true happiness. Walking as quietly as possible, I switch the lamp on the lowest setting, but still, Jordan doesn't twitch.

He's still in the clothes he arrived in, making me wrinkle my nose. He should shower, though I don't blame him for being so exhausted. Daddy's men aren't known for their hospitality.

I should know. The warehouses we keep our prisoners in are barely standing. They are one step away from being condemned, and that is the way Daddy likes them.

To be fair, most of them never live to survive my father, so I'm not going to fight for them.

"Jordan?" I say softly, touching his leg. I don't know if he'll startle after the last few days, and I'd rather not get kicked in the face.

Thankfully, he only gasps awake, turning over to flip onto his back.

"Yeah?" he rasps, throwing his arms over his face with a groan. "Do you need something, Princess?"

"You're a delight, you know that?" I say wryly. I really dislike his new nickname. Fuck me.

"Hmm. You haven't seen nothing yet," he says, pushing himself up to sit. "What time is it?"

"After ten," I tell him. As he glances at the window, he sighs as he sees how dark it is.

"I didn't mean to sleep so long," he mutters.

"You looked as if a stiff breeze would have blown you down," I say with a shrug. "You needed sleep. Uh, I want to take a look at your injuries. Can you strip?"

"Bold, little girl," he chuckles. "I will not be doing that. I do need a shower, though. I probably would have drowned if I tried taking one earlier."

Standing, I find myself having to gaze up at him. Even though I'm a taller woman, Jordan and Brendan both make me feel small. Jordan is probably about six feet tall even.

"I didn't mean it the way I sounded," I say, biting my bottom lip.

Jordan smirks as he reaches out to rescue the lip I'm currently worrying.

"Let go," he rumbles. "I'm sure Brendan would say he's the only one allowed to bite that sexy lip. I'm a big boy, I'll figure it out."

"I did this to you, though," I say, throwing my hands up as he begins to walk to the bathroom.

"Uh huh," he grunts as he pulls his shirt up and over his head. "Go away, Princess. I don't need you to scrub my back."

I should leave.

Instead, I lean against the door as he tugs off his pants and boxers, and then stare hungrily at his body as he turns on the shower. His backside is clear of bruises except for one here or there, which probably weren't my fault.

"Can I get a toothbrush, Princess? Since you're getting a free show and everything," he snarks.

Dutifully, I point to the bathroom sink, where there's a new toothbrush and toothpaste waiting for him. I may have spent way too much time stocking this room for him. I don't know what to do with him in my space right now, and it's making me feel awkward.

Jordan opens the new toothbrush, loads it up with toothpaste, and then climbs into the shower. I openly stare at him as he brushes his teeth, feeling like a creeper, yet unable to stop watching him.

He openly groans in pleasure as if he's having an orgasmic experience, which if he hasn't been able to brush his teeth in days, he probably is.

The shower is encased in glass, but the design is odd. There's frosted panels on two sides of it, but the one that faces me is clear. I can see him perfectly as he moves on from brushing his teeth to wash his hair.

His pierced cock is hard from the attention I'm giving him, standing proud as he scrubs his scalp.

Licking my bottom lip, I watch the water sluice off his chest, and I can feel my body reacting. From here, I can see the burns from the electrical prod and bruises from Brendan's fists, but I can't seem to raise up the indignation and guilt I felt earlier. My nipples are stiffening into peaks, and I'm steadily staining my thighs with my arousal.

"Enjoying the show, Princess?" Jordan asks, making me roll my eyes openly at him. He doesn't scare me, though he's figured out quickly how to push my buttons.

"What isn't there to love?" I snark with a smirk. "You have to know exactly how much I enjoy your cock. I haven't willingly touched one for enjoyment outside of Brendan's before."

Jordan is picking up the body wash as he listens to my words, but almost drops it as he hears more than I meant for him to. Goddamnit. I need to be more careful.

"We'll be revisiting that comment at another time, Princess. Don't think I didn't hear what you didn't say," he says, squeezing out some body wash into his hand.

"I don't know what you mean," I rasp, feeling as if I just swallowed my tongue. It feels thick in my mouth, so I close it to continue my voyeur activities as he washes his body.

Occasionally, he hisses at a cut or irritated area of his body as he scrubs his skin, which makes me even more hypersensitive to his movements.

"Sure you don't," he grunts, palming his cock under the guise of washing himself.

The crown of his dick is engorged and red, and I imagine I can see pre-cum beginning to drip down it. My breaths get a little faster, and my pussy clamps around nothing, forcing me to swallow back a whimper. I won't show him how hot this is making me. His ego is large enough as it is.

"Our connection makes things complicated," he says, beginning to stroke his cock. Each piercing gets a gentle tug as his palm passes over it, and in response, I squeeze my thighs together.

"I dreamed about the other night, trying to figure out how two masked people could make me come as hard as you did. I wanted to see your face when you came apart for Brendan so fucking badly the whole time."

"You… you did?" I whisper. I wonder if he heard me, but he nods as he drops his head back as his other hand begins to tug on his balls. He's masturbating with both hands.

I've never met anyone like Jordan. He's so unapologetic about taking what he wants for someone who lives in the corporate world. Shouldn't they be more buttoned up and stuffy?

"Absolutely," he says, his hazel eyes burning brightly. "Lift that shirt and show me that pretty, pink pussy. I didn't get a close enough look last time."

God, that mouth. I'm not capable of not following that order. Slowly, I pull my shirt up, baring my body to him.

"Why aren't you ever wearing a bra? And now we told the panties to get fucked today too, didn't we, Princess?" he groans.

Smirking, I grow bold and pull the shirt off, tossing it to the side. Now, I'm in thigh high socks and nothing else. Thankfully so, because this bathroom doesn't have heated floors.

Hiking my foot up on the edge of the tub, I open my pussy lips for Jordan's viewing pleasure. May as well enhance his masturbation experience as I'm hosting him in my home, right?

Ignoring my inner thoughts, I rub my arousal over my pierced clit, eyes slightly rolling at the feeling.

"I thought you may be pierced," Jordan growls, pulling my gaze back to him. "Fuck, it's so plump and juicy. I just want to suck and bite it."

I can't hold back the whimper that I release as I sink my fingers into my pussy. Jordan is plastered against the glass wall, greedily drinking me in as his hand braces his body against it.

His other hand is slowly squeezing his cock as his hips thrust forward and back. It makes me wonder what it would feel like to have his big cock inside of me.

Gasping for air, I continue to circle my clit with my thumb, already feeling my body beginning to tighten.

"Fuck," I moan. "How can you say things like that?"

"You're so lucky I'm on the other side of this glass, little girl," he says, his chest beginning to heave. His features are so intense, but instead of feeling scared, it makes me feel powerful.

"I want to watch you fall apart. Get yourself there, Princess. Your pussy is so desperate, isn't it? It's so sad you're not going to be stuffed with my thick cock. Goddamn, I can hear it sucking at your fingers from here."

He can't really hear it over the water, can he? Jordan is right, though. I'm so wet, it's starting to drip from my pussy. Pushing my fingers deeper into my channel, I imagine what it would feel like to have him stretch me with his pierced shaft.

"Mmm, open those legs wider, baby. My balls are getting tight. I'm so damn close. Get yourself off, Princess. Show me what you like. Eyes stay on me," Jordan commands. There's no way I can say no to him, so I do as he says. His voice reminds me of gravel as he speaks to me, and it's enough to make me shudder as I pinch my clit.

Wailing as I come, I force my eyes to stay open as my breaths heave as if I ran several miles. Groaning, Jordan's forehead moves to rest on the glass as he moves his hand to squeeze his balls, continuing to fuck his fist.

"So goddamn beautiful," he grunts, his eyes on my pussy as I stretch out my release. Preening under his attention, I watch as he uses his piercings on his cock to drive himself over the edge. Roaring as he comes, his cum sprays the glass separating us in ropes.

The sound of our breaths and the water is all that can be heard as I watch his eyes close for a moment. I hate the way the mask comes back over his face as he straightens, and I can see the moment is over.

Pulling my fingers away from my pussy, I ignore the way that they're trembling from one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. Taking my foot off the tub, I snatch up my shirt and turn away to leave. I don't even remember why I came in here to begin with. It wasn't the smartest thing I've done.

"Líadan," Jordan snaps out, making me shudder as I pull the shirt over my head to cover myself.

Fuck, I'm in trouble now. He called me by my name. I think I may miss being called ‘Princess.' Ironic.

"Yeah?" I ask, keeping my hands at my sides even as my body feels as if it's vibrating.

The water turns off as I refuse to look over my shoulder. I feel raw, my skin feels as if it's pulled too tightly over my body, and I'm not self aware enough to figure out why. My emotions are stunted in an attempt to save what little sanity I'm left with, so this is all too much for me.

"Why are you running?" he asks, opening the door.

"Because you left first," I state as I hurry out.

I don't stop when he calls out my name, continuing right down the hall and the stairs. Shoving my feet into my boots, I ignore the fact that I'm fairly undressed outside of pulling on a coat and grabbing my wallet.

"Lía," Brendan says. There's no judgment in his tone, zero intonation, nothing for me to get upset about. That's what I need. "Do you want company on your walk?"

Jordan isn't going anywhere, there's no reason to police him, and I really don't want to. I spent too many years under my father's thumb to do that to another person. He can fend for himself.

"Yes, as long as I don't get a lecture," I mutter as I open the door. Brendan throws a sweatshirt over his body and shoves his feet into some shoes, ready to follow me.

"Líadan!" Jordan roars, his voice getting louder as he comes closer and I begin to slip out the door.

Brendan glances up the stairs at a half dressed Jordan. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, and there's still water glistening on his chest.

"If I find out you hurt her, those won't be the only scars you'll have to worry about," Brendan growls as he follows me.

"I don't even know what I did!" Jordan yells helplessly as the door closes behind us.

My boots clomp down the steps as I walk with Brendan to the sidewalk.

"Want to go to the corner store and get some peanut butter M&Ms?" he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, please," I say, my mind trying to process the last few minutes. I like Jordan, I just don't know how to handle that. I'm too broken, too sensitive, and I don't expect anyone other than Brendan to be able to love me.

I'm the Banshee, and not supposed to find a happily ever after.