Silence 4.5 Read online

  "Off," she ordered, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

  Bastian leaned up so he could rid himself of his clothing. "So demanding," he chastised teasingly. She wiggled as though her patience was growing thin, a smile lighting up her face. Bastian stilled, his hands freezing at the buttons.

  Pixie had never smiled at him before, and the change was like a punch to his gut. While there was no doubt she was beautiful normally, seeing her with those eyes lit up and her lips turned up made him realize just how stunning she really was. How was someone like her letting a man like him touch her? He thought. Bastian swallowed, his heart feeling as though it were being squeezed in his chest.

  Her smile slowly slipped and he wanted to shout at the loss. "What's wrong?" she asked, uncertainty filling her eyes.

  He shook his head, unable to voice the unfamiliar feelings running through his mind.

  Reaching out, he slowly lifted her shirt up, exposing the creamy, smooth skin beneath, inch by inch. Pulling it over her head, her dark tresses surrounded her, creating another breathtaking image.

  Bastian had no doubt that the picture before him would never leave his mind for as long as he lived. Their moments may be stolen ones between two people who could never truly be together, but at least he'd have the memories. Those alone would be enough. At least, he hoped so.

  Bending forward, he took one of her nipples in his mouth, groaning as her hands dove into his hair, pulling at it while still pressing him closer, keeping him there. Not that he minded, because there was nowhere else he'd rather be right then. Moving to the other breast, he showed it the same attention, soaking up the little moans and whimpers she made. It was too much.

  Sitting back again, he made quick work of his pants and hers before covering her body with his, loving the feel of their bare skin against each other’s. Pixie wrapped her legs around him again, guiding him to where she needed him most. He pushed forward, gritting his teeth at the feel of her warmth hugging him.

  "You're so perfect," he said, pulling almost all the way out before pushing in slowly again. "So fucking perfect." Setting a quicker, harder pace, he moved over her, his head tilted down so he could watch where they connected.

  "More," she begged, tossing her head from side to side.

  Bastian pulled out, grabbing Pixie and flipping her over onto her stomach. Lifting her up so she rested on her knees, he entered her again from behind, sinking in deeper than before.

  "Fuck," she whimpered.

  He started the same grueling pace, his breath coming out harshly. "You're mine, Pixie." The words slipped out before he could stop them. And once they were, he strangely had no urge to take them back.

  She shook her head no, but simply moaned in response. His hand came down to slap her ass, and then he gripped it firmly. She cried out, tossing her head back. The arch of her back, and that mane of hair slipping over her naked skin drove him wild. "You are mine, Pixie," he pressed. "Say it."

  She shook her head again, but the words came anyway. "I'm yours," she said in a hoarse voice. She continued to chant it as he pumped into her until he felt her insides quiver and then tighten around him as she cried out. He followed not long after, his entire body stiffening almost painfully.

  They dropped to the mattress, their breathing the only sound. They faced each other, neither saying a word. Then she did something he didn't expect. Pixie propped herself up on her elbows and leaned over, kissing him in a slow, sensual kiss that had his body wanting her again. When she pulled back, they simply looked at one another again, and he knew.

  He knew whatever was between them was going to be ruined. And he'd be the one to ruin it. Because that's what Sebastian Black always did. He ruined the good, only bringing darkness to those around him. It was why his last name was so fitting, because that's exactly what he was, heart and soul.

  Black.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  He took her again, his body insatiable around her. She wasn’t complaining. Having Bastian moving over her, feeling him deep within her body, it was heady. Her body and mind felt completely content being there, even though she'd pumped herself up the entire time she'd waited for him, coming up with all kinds of excuses.

  And yet, when he had appeared and looked at her like he was two seconds away from devouring her, all the lame reasoning she'd created had flown right out of her head. That's what Bastian did to her, made her forget everything and just see him.

  It was probably for the best anyway, considering she really didn't have a good excuse for why she had decided to attack the other woman. She felt like an idiot because of it. Not that she wouldn't do it again, because she would. And that truth scared her.

  Stretching like a lazy cat after a long nap, she looked up at him as he still caged her in between his strong arms, their bodies still humming after their release. There was something about him that made her feel softer, feminine and sexy.

  She'd never really felt that way before. It was one of the reasons she dressed so modestly and always wore her hair up and off her face. She had let it down though while she’d waited, having felt a headache coming on and trying to relieve some of the pressure. If she had known how crazy it would make him, she would have worn it down earlier. Even now, he played idly with it, twirling a strand around one of his fingers.

  "I love that I put that contented, satisfied look in your eyes," he said with a pleased grin.

  She clenched around where they were still connected, and smiled when his eyes flared. "I could say the same," she said, her voice huskier than normal.

  He growled, dropping his head to bury his face in the crook of her neck. "What am I going to do with you?"

  She didn't have an answer for that. And she could hear the genuine confusion in his voice. Pixie knew what he meant. The two of them had complicated things more than either had planned. She had said it before, but this time she meant it - this couldn't happen again.

  Bastian lifted his head, his eyes growing colder as she stared back. Goose bumps rose along her arms.

  "What are you really doing here, Pixie?"

  The firm way he said it, coupled with the loss of the warmth that had filled his face only moments ago, pissed her off. He was doing it again – ruining the moment. She wiggled beneath him, pushing at his chest. He didn't move though, not taking the hint. She couldn't do this with them still touching intimately. It hurt too much.

  "Get off," she said when he still didn't budge.

  "Answer the damn question," he barked.

  "What? You think you can just fuck me into being submissive? Did you think I'd just give you what want once you blew my mind?" her voice rose as she went on. She couldn't remember the last time she had really yelled at someone. He seemed to bring out the worst in her. "Well guess what? Fuck you!" She pushed at him again, but he just grabbed each of her hands, pinning them above her head.

  She growled in frustration. "Get. Off. Me," she bit out.

  "What are you really doing here?"

  His eyes were lit with anger but he didn't scare her. Her mind told her he wouldn't really hurt her.

  She smiled thinly. "I just came to get my rocks off. Mission accomplished. Now fuck off."

  His lips pressed together, puffs of air coming out of his nose like a bull about to charge. "If you don't answer me - truthfully - someone's going to get hurt," he warned.

  Pixie turned her head, staring at the wall instead of his beautiful face that was too close now, when only a short while ago she couldn't get close enough.

  "Pixie, just tell me, and maybe I'll let you leave here."

  It was like a punch to the gut. How easily he could dismiss her once he’d gotten what he wanted. She wondered if he was being honest, but it really didn't matter. She didn't matter, obviously. Not that she expected otherwise. But it still stung after just being with him. She supposed he did this sort of thing with lots of girls. Just because she didn't, didn't mean it was the same for him. She was an idiot to ever get involved with someone like him.<
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  A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, burning a path down the side of her face into her hair. He sighed loudly, his body tense above hers. A moment later he got up and started to dress.

  She kept her face turned away, listening as he slipped the fabric over his limbs. He hesitated for a second, and Pixie sensed he was looking at her, but she didn't acknowledge him.

  Then he simply turned and left. She waited a moment before curling herself into a ball. She allowed herself a minute to wallow in her sadness. Then she got up and took a shower to rid herself of his scent. Once she was dressed, she sat at the edge of the bed and waited. He'd be back, and she’d be ready for whatever he would do. Her game face was back on, her heart hardened. No more would Sebastian Black get the best of her.

  He stormed down the halls, ignoring his men as they gave him questioning looks. That hadn’t gone at all the way he’d planned. Any time he was around her, it seemed he couldn’t think straight. As soon as he’d tried to ask her anything, she’d closed up tighter than a vise. She wouldn’t even look at him as he’d gotten dressed to leave.

  That had bothered him more than anything. She’d gone from looking at him with female contentment, those perfect lips stretched into a smile that had his mind completely muddled, to not even facing him, looking at the wall instead, her body stiff and cold. It wasn’t what he wanted. Christ, if he could get her to look at him with that gentle look every damn day of his life, he’d die a happy man.

  But he’d fucked it up, that much was obvious. She was hiding something from him, and she wasn’t going to give it up. His hands flexed at his sides, his anger and nerves barely contained. If one of his enemies had sent her in here, they’d known him better than even he did.

  Normally he wouldn’t have thought he’d be attracted to someone has petite and quiet as Pixie, but she ignited every nerve in his body. If there was someone out there that was trying to get intel on him, she had been the perfect Trojan horse. Except, he didn’t think she had succeeded in getting anything. And the passion that flowed between them wasn’t something that could be made up.

  Whoever had sent her and her friends had failed. Now it was time to find out just who had sent them and why. If Pixie wasn’t going to tell him, he’d force her friends to. Otherwise all of them could rot in his cells for all he cared. If someone wanted his secrets, they’d have to kill him to get them.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out just what they were looking for, considering Pixie’s repeated question about the orange. Someone out there must have been paying close attention to him and what he was doing. That, or one of his own men had betrayed him. He thought that unlikely though. He never hired a man he couldn’t trust.

  Entering the room, he noticed them all standing around talking as though familiar with one another. Oh, yes, he thought, these people were not strangers. He’d suspected it before, but seeing them all together now confirmed it for him.

  "Well isn't this cozy," he said. "Everyone seems to know each other, yeah?"

  Pixie’s “owner” stood up first, his hands out in front of him as though he were trying to calm a rabid dog. Bastian narrowed his eyes as the man approached him. "Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about, but my wife and I -"

  "Enough!" He couldn’t believe it. This asshole was going to lie to him too? What was wrong with these people? They were locked in his place, and they had the nerve to treat him as though he were an idiot? "Don't insult me with more lies," he continued. "I'm not a fucking idiot. You're in my house, and you'll answer my questions with the truth, nothing else. This shit ends now."

  Red surprised him. "Where's Pixie?" she asked, stepping forward.

  He’d witnessed their exchange before, and knew they must be friends, but to hear her all but admit it actually pissed him off. He didn’t want them asking about Pixie, she was his. “She's none of your concern right now. What you need to worry about is yourself, little Red. So you’d better start talking, or none of you are leaving this room alive."

  "You're the one who took us, remember?" she spat back, hands on her hips. If he wasn’t so pissed, he’d laugh at her bravado. The girl had enough spunk for all of them. "How can you even ask why we're here?" she continued.

  She had a point. "How do I know you didn't plan to be taken?"

  She huffed out a breath. "You're joking right? You think we'd actually sign up for this shit?" She gestured around. "Get real, Bastian. What are you so paranoid about?"

  His eyes narrowed. "Cut the shit, Red. Tell me why you're here or Pixie will pay the price for your lies."

  "Okay, enough!" Pixie’s owner walked toward him again. "This is ridiculous. I don't see why there's a need to lie anymore. We're all stuck in this damn room anyway, might as well fess up."

  "Garrett," came a warning growl. Bastian saw the big guy shooting daggers at the other guy – Garrett. He looked between them, and thought he saw a resemblance there. Brothers? Cousins? Possibly, he thought.

  "What other choice do we have? I'm not letting Pixie get hurt,” Garrett said.

  Bastian kept his face neutral as he explained that they had only come here to get Red and the big guy back. Normally he wouldn’t have trusted the man right away, but something about him seemed honest. He stopped his story and waited for Bastian’s response. The man wanted him to let them all go, just like that. It was comical really.

  He laughed. "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You think you can waltz into my home, under the guise of being one of my patrons, with the intent of helping two of my fighters escape, and I'm just supposed to be okay with that? I should just ignore the betrayal and lies, and simply...let you leave?" He chuckled again. "How...quaint."

  "What you're doing is illegal," Garrett’s wife said. "You can't just take people off the streets and force them to do these things."

  She was cute. And clearly naïve. "Is that so, sweetheart? And who are you going to report me to?”

  "We need to get out of here. There are people counting on us!"

  That made him stop. People were counting on them? He looked around the room, wondering what she could possibly mean by a statement like that. Looking to Red, he thought about her skills, and then immediately went to thinking of Pixie’s natural fighting abilities as well. His eyes went back to the other girl, wondering if she was good at fighting too. The men obviously were. He’d seen two of them fight, and from the build of the third guy, Garrett, he guessed he wasn’t a stranger to fighting either.

  A group of men and women who knew how to fight? He looked back to Red. "Care to explain?" he asked.

  She folded her arms over her chest. "Not really."

  Well that didn’t surprise him. His mind turned and then suddenly little bits of information he’d heard from his men came back to him. The Archers, a group of girls who rebelled against the new government, resided in the western ghetto where Red and the big guy had been picked up. Yes, that made sense, he thought. The men looked like the rebel type themselves. They had that edgy look that said they were about two seconds away from ripping your arms off.

  Bastian had met some rebels before, and they had the same look about them. Hadn’t there been a report about the Archers being with men at some masquerade? He could vaguely remember something about that.

  "Here's a story for you now," he said slowly, walking toward one of the empty chairs. Swinging it around, he sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of it as he surveyed them all.

  "Once upon a time, there was a rumor going around about a group of girls who fancied themselves rebels. These girls," he continued smiling as Red stiffened, "fought for the people of the ghettos. Those poor souls repressed by the evil Ludwig Tennebris. People who – counted on them, you could say?" His looked to the other girl. "I would imagine such girls would be well versed in fighting."

  He stood up. "How am I doing so far?" None of them would look at him, which made him want to laugh again. He snapped his fingers. "What did they call themselves agai
n?" He looked up in thought, even though he knew.

  "Archers," Red said softly.

  "What was that?"

  She clenched her fists. "The Archers."

  Bingo. "Ah yes, the Archers. The weapon of the people.” He knew she’d have too much pride not to answer the question. People like her wanted others to know just who they were, so that those people would realize all they had accomplished. It didn’t surprise him in the least that he’d gotten the truth out of these people. “How does the fight go?" he asked, wanting to laugh.

  Red narrowed her eyes at him. God she was feisty, he thought. "I wouldn't know, I've been stuck in this fucking place."

  "How irritating for you. Tell me, Red-"

  "It's Phoenix."

  He stopped, surprised. "Tell me, Phoenix, how can you expect to liberate the people of

  New Berlin if you can't even manage to take care of yourself?"

  She moved as though she planned to attack him, but was stopped by the big guy. Not that

  he was worried. Just because Bastian ran the fights and didn’t take part in them himself, didn’t mean he wasn’t a damn good fighter. He’d been the best growing up, which was why he’d gravitated toward this life in the first place. Fighting was what kept you alive in the streets of the New World. Especially in the Outlands, where rules didn’t apply.

  His mind went to his sister who he’d lost years ago. Still to this day he didn’t know what had happened to her. "Tell me," he said, forcing old memories and thoughts to the back of his mind where they belonged, "where do you men fit in? I was under the impression the Archers were all women."

  "We used to be part of the rebels under the General," Garrett answered.

  Bastian let out a low whistle. "Used to be?"

  "Let's just say we didn't see eye to eye," the Scotsman said.

  "We don't belong here," the big guy added. "Just return Pixie to us and we'll all leave you to your business, and us to ours."

  Return Pixie? His body went cold at the thought. If he let them leave, which part of him was inclined to do for some strange reason, he’d have to let Pixie leave too. The thought was revolting to him. Could he go back to his life before she’d entered it? There would be no one soft and gentle waiting for him. No one to lose himself in.