Not even close.
For the next few days, we settle into a tense, furious routine. By day, we keep our distance, busying ourselves with projects around the cabin. Sebastian tends to the generator and electrical system, spending hours out back in the yard, chopping wood, while I lock myself up in the library, and try to lose myself in the thick novels lining the walls.
It doesn’t work. Every hour in this place is just a silent countdown, to when we finish dinner, and put the last of the dishes aside, and then Sebastian wordlessly climbs the staircase to his bedroom.
And I obediently follow after him.
I hate myself for it, but I want him even more. There’s nothing in the world like it, the way he takes over me, the moment we step inside the bedroom, chasing every other thought away with his cool instructions and unbreakable will. Dominating me the way nobody else ever has.
The way I never knew I always needed.
Yes, Sebastian still has an unshakeable hold over me. Part desire, part obsession. All mine.
I wish those nights would last forever. The sharp ache of pleasure he conjures with his hands, his tongue, his thick, relentless cock. The way he knows exactly how to strip away all my defenses, leaving me writhing, begging for just another taste, soaring with the thrill of total surrender.
The wild, ravenous look in his eyes as I sink to my knees, open my mouth, and suck him all the way down.
“Fuck, Avery, just like that…”
“Deeper, baby, take it all.”
“Good girl.”
It’s heaven. I can’t get enough. I revel in it, blissfully free—until I wake alone in my own bed the next morning, and it all comes rushing back to me. My shame. My anger.
Sebastian’s wicked heart.
The snow finally stops falling on the third day. I settle into the library as usual to pass the day, but I’m interrupted when Sebastian comes into the study for the first time since I claimed it as my own. He’s dressed in his coat and boots, holding a rifle.
“I’m going hunting.”
My eyebrows pop up. “Clearly,” I say, cautiously eying the gun.
“Are you coming?” he asks.
I’m already on my feet. I’m so restless from being cooped up in here, I’d do anything to get out—even venture into the snow with an armed man who hates me. “Give me five minutes,” I tell him, quickly going to change into warm clothes. I layer up with boots and a coat from the mudroom, and meet Sebastian in the backyard, which is thickly covered in snow.
“There should be deer in the forest,” he says, nodding to where the tree line begins in the distance.
“We’re hunting Bambi?” I protest.
He gives me a look. “What do you think you’ve been eating for days?”
“I’ve been trying not to think about it at all,” I admit.
“Come on. Be quiet,” he adds, adjusting his pack. “And stay near me. The lake’s frozen, but the ice isn’t safe.”
I pull my mittens on and set off after him. The sky is clear, bright and crisp, and the snow lays thickly on the ground, totally undisturbed. I take a deep breath, savoring the chilled air in my lungs. It’s beautiful out here—or, it would be, if this were some romantic getaway, and not the two of us stranded together, bound by necessity and loathing.
Still, the change of scene is exactly what I needed, and I’m enjoying the nature as we trek along the edge of the forest, the fir trees looming thickly all around. Then I feel Sebastian’s hand on my arm.
“This way,” he says, nodding deeper into the forest.
“Aren’t we walking on a trail right now? Maybe we shouldn’t leave it,” I suggest. “We don’t want to get lost.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “We need to hunt in the cross wind.”
My eyebrows knit together as I stare at him in confusion.
“The wind needs to blow from the side as we walk,” he explains. “Deer have sensitive noses and if they catch our scent, they’ll avoid us.”
“You really think we’ll find any deer?”
“Only if you be quiet,” he says, looking annoyed.
I glare at him but don’t say another word as I make an effort move as silently as possible. Luckily, the snow help stifle the sound of us walking as we step off the path. Sebastian moves stealthily through the trees, and I try to mimic that, following a few steps behind.
Sebastian suddenly stops walking and holds up a hand. I pause, watching him. But his gaze is trained on something in front of him through the trees. It’s a deer, head bent, sniffing in the undergrowth.
I freeze, hardly daring to breathe. The deer hasn’t noticed us yet, but I know enough to be sure that he’ll run away quickly if he senses us.
“Here,” Sebastian whispers, moving closer to me. I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the cold. “You take the shot.”
He hands over the gun, surprising me. With all the mistrust lingering between us, I wasn’t expecting him to give me a weapon.
It’s heavy in my hands. I shift my feet to shoulder-width apart to steady my stance as I bring the rifle up, putting the butt of it against my shoulder as I aim it in the direction of where the deer is standing. My trigger hand is on the handgrip and the other grips the stock.
“You’ve done this before,” Sebastian whispers, and I realize he’s moved behind me. But he’s so close, I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.
“I’ve fired a rifle,” I admit quietly, lowering my head until my cheek rests against the butt of the rifle, my line of sight directly through the scope. “My dad took me to the shooting range a couple of times when I was a teenager,” I add. “I learned how to shoot there with him. It was one of our rare bonding experiences.”
Skills I’d need in the Barretti world.
Sebastian reaches around and adjusts my aim. “Aim for the area behind the shoulder. You want a clean kill, so it doesn’t suffer.”
I’m surprised he would even care, but I do as he says, aiming carefully, my finger on the trigger. One… two… three—
I hesitate for a split-second, not sure I want to follow through. That’s all it takes. The deer startles, suddenly racing away into the forest.
I lower the rifle. “Sorry,” I say, but when I turn, Sebastian is watching me, looking puzzled.
“Why didn’t you take the shot?”
I shrug. “It’s a harmless animal. What gives us the right to take its life?”
He arches an eyebrow. “You pretend to have morals. How sweet.”
“And you pretend like you don’t,” I shoot back. “That’s what I don’t understand about you, Sebastian. One minute, you act like you’re a heartless monster, and the next, you’re funding orphanages, and trying to make amends for your crimes. Which is it? I get whiplash trying to keep up!”
“Which do you think it is?” he demands, grabbing my arm and yanking me closer to him. His eyes are blazing urgently, the tension rippling with every word. “Tell me, Avery,” he orders me. “Which side of the scales do my sins fall?”
“I… don’t know,” I reply, helplessly staring back at him. The heat shimmers between us, his face just inches from mine.
With a groan, Sebastian kisses me.