Vow of Deception (Deception Trilogy #1) by Rina Kent

“Ten. At this rate, you will have a long night, Lia.”

I don’t miss the hint of sadism when he says ‘long.’ The bastard really gets off on the thought of punishing me.

He’s a freaking deviant.

I scramble to my feet because I really don’t want the count to get to eleven.

“Follow me.” Adrian heads to the door without waiting for me.

I chance a glance at Jeremy’s peaceful sleeping face, hoping I can somehow become one with his mattress or his covers.

My hesitation doesn’t last long as I follow in Adrian’s footsteps and quietly close Jeremy’s door behind me.

My legs shake with every step I take. Sweat gathers on my brow, and my knuckles turn white from constantly clenching them into fists.

People say they know fear. Like when their car almost crashes or when they witness a gory scene on the streets, but that’s not true fear. The actual horror is the unknown.

Ignorance about one’s fate is the worst type of terror.

It tangles around my ribcage like wires, attempting to break the bones and prick my heart in the process.

The darkness isn’t scary; what’s inside it is. And right now, that darkness is filled with Adrian’s quiet but lethal presence.

My gaze remains focused on his back, on the rippling of his muscles beneath his shirt and the ink peeking from underneath his half-rolled sleeves. His strides are steady, as if this fucked-up situation is normal.

As if picking up a homeless woman and forcing her into his wife’s role is something completely acceptable. Does the man ever feel? Does he have a beating organ like the one thudding inside me or is he a different species whose heart only pumps blood into his veins?

If he cared about his wife so much, how could he exchange her with a fake so easily?

But maybe he used her as he’s using me. Men like him don’t form attachments and are heartless monsters who only know how to take.

As Adrian steps into the bedroom and closes the door behind us, I wish fear was the only feeling inhabiting me. I wish the clenching of my stomach was because of a hit of adrenaline and not because of some other demented sensation I don’t want to put a name on.

Because I know he didn’t call me here just to sleep. I know that some savage plan is being concocted in his screwed-up head right now.

My need to bolt slowly dims, replaced by a strange type of acceptance.

It’ll pass, just like everything else in my life.

As long as he doesn’t see my reaction, he won’t get to me.

Adrian unbuckles his belt and I stare, transfixed, trapped in a daze, as he wraps it around his hand, a blank expression on his face. “Get on your knees.”





15





Winter





My wild gaze flits from his vacant eyes to the belt looped around his hand.

He must be kidding.

But he isn’t.

Adrian said he’s not the joking type, and I believe him.

I’ve been squirming all day long from the feel of the handprints he left on my ass, so I wholeheartedly believe he’s going to whip me with his belt right now.

“Please, don’t…” I don’t want to resort to begging, and as soon as I say the words, I know it’s a waste of my energy. I know that someone like him isn’t deterred by pleas or tears. If anything, he gets off on it. Just like he gets off on punishing me.

So when he speaks his next words, I’m jolted out of my skin with surprise. “What are you willing to do instead?”

“Anything,” I blurt.

“I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Fine…” I hesitate for a second, a little apprehensive about his intensity. I saw his size, I know it’ll hurt like hell, and a man like Adrian seems as if he likes it rough.

However, agreeing to that is the better choice. Fucking or being whipped. Yeah, it doesn’t take a genius to decide.

“And you won’t bite your lip. You won’t suffocate your moans as your cunt strangles my dick.”

“No,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side as if I’m some sort of problem and he’s contemplating whether he wants to solve it or eradicate it once and for all. “No?”

“You just get to fuck me; you don’t get to tell me how I react to it.” My silence is my only defense mechanism against him, my last piece of armor, and if I let him take that, too, then I’m well and truly screwed. My identity will be erased and I’ll merely be a washed-out version of his wife.

“I decline then.”

“W-what?”

“Either you come completely undone or you take your punishment.”

I glare at him, my fists burning with pain from how tightly I’m clenching them. My nails dig so hard into my palms, I’m surprised I don’t draw blood.

Sucking a long gulp into my lungs, I lower myself to my knees.

As I do so, I notice a shadow of disappointment and something else crossing his face.

Fuck him. He won’t break me.

My name is Winter Cavanaugh. I’m not Lia Volkov and I’m no way in hell this madman’s wife.

I chant that in my head in preparation for what’s to come. To say I’m not scared would be a lie, but my dignity keeps me upright.

“It’s unfortunate that you chose the high road with me. Very unfortunate.” The smoothness in his voice sends chills down my spine.