Darkest Sins - Page 112

“Yes,” she says but doesn’t make a move to approach us. Her eyes are cast down, toward the ground at her feet.

Massimo walks around her and descends the stone steps, but instead of bringing my sister’s things to Kai’s car, he approaches his own vehicle and opens the trunk.

“What’s going on?” I ask, volleying my gaze between my sister and stepbrother, who’s now holding the passenger door open.

“Zahara,” Massimo says in a soft voice, so uncharacteristic for him.

Zara looks up, meeting his enigmatic expression. For almost a full minute they just stare at each other, having a private conversation with their eyes, before my sister finally turns to me. Her expression is guarded, and a sense of unease creeps over me as I try to decipher the reason for the guilt that’s written all over her face.

“I’m sorry, Nera,” she says. “But I decided to leave with Massimo.”

What?

Shock. Confusion. Disbelief.

“I don’t understand.” I’m still trying to process her words as they hang heavy in the air.

Zara slowly descends the steps and comes to stand before me. She tilts her head to the side, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I’m so happy for you, Nera. You finally found your peace and joy.” She wraps her arms around me, burying her nose in my hair, and whispers. “Now, I’ll try to find mine, too.”

“But . . . Zara . . .”

She takes a step back, releasing me from her embrace. “I have to go now, but I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, staring at my sister’s back as she walks toward Massimo’s car and gets inside.

Our stepbrother slides into the driver’s seat. Gravel crunches under the tires of his vehicle as he reverses and speeds off in the direction of the gate. Ten seconds later, the car disappears from view.

They’re gone.

My sister just left with our stepbrother, whom she doesn’t even know. She was barely four when he was locked up.

What the fuck is going on?

Epilogue

One month later

My wrists strain against the smooth scarlet fabric, affixed tightly to the bedpost while Kai’s rough hands glide over my bare chest. I feel every ridge and callus on his palms as they explore my body, caressing every inch of my skin.

“Did I tie it too tight?” he asks as he bends to lick my nipple.

I shake my head. When I brought the scarf and asked him to tie my hands, he said no. It took ten minutes of persuasion that involved my tongue and his cock until he relented.

“I have to admit,” he says as he continues his exploration, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along my abdomen. “I love the sight of you bound to our bed. At my mercy.”

His hands move lower, caressing the curve of my hip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I gasp as his fingers dip between my thighs, teasing me. My breath catches in my throat as the anticipation builds. Each touch, each gentle stroke, ignites a fire within me that only he can sate.

“You’re so beautiful, cub,” he says as he slides two fingers into me. “Especially when you get aroused just by my finger.”

He watches me intently, his eyes filled with hunger. With each strum of his thumb over my clit, he pushes me further to the edge. He delves deeper, setting my body ablaze with a scorching heat that threatens to consume me wholly. He knows me so well, able to unravel me with the lightest brush of his fingertips. I arch my back, offering myself completely to him, craving more of his touch, as the satin sheets beneath us rustle with each movement.

“Please,” I pant.

He smiles and withdraws his hand, leaving me empty and yearning. A muffled groan escapes my lips at the loss, but before I can utter a single word, he swiftly flips me onto my stomach. The silk binds around my wrists tighten, holding me firmly in place.

From behind, he positions himself between my legs so that his hardness presses against the wetness coating my thighs. I feel his hot breath on my nape.