Page 55 of Cruel Pleasures
For the rest of my trek up to the main building, I’m stuck on our encounter. I walk across the lawn thinking about his cryptic wording and the vicious air he’d given off. You’d think I’d hurt him the way he was glaring at me. The words he spit at me were bathed with loathing.
First Archer disappears, now this man acts like a total asshole for no reason. I shake my head and look up at the prestigious manor and its many windows. The curtains are drawn on many of them.
Six stories of luxury and decadence crowned by gable roofing. It’s as my gaze reaches the sixth floor that I notice the familiar face staring back at me from between wrenched apart curtains.
Features I’d recognize anywhere.
It can’t be…
There’s no way!
“Lyra!” I scream, breaking out into a sprint. I don’t think about it. My legs move on their own, carrying me the rest of the way across the lawn. I leap up the first staircase I encounter and then do the same for any of the others.
My heart beats frantically. Desperation shakes my bones. I pant and pump my legs faster. She’d been peering down at me from the fourth window on the sixth floor. Has she been on this property the entire time? How could she not come find me? Is she being held against her will like I essentially am?
I reach the door puffing out air and go to bang my fist. My other hand lands on the brass knob and twists with equal desperation. I’m expecting my attempts to be useless. For the door to remain closed and no one to answer.
Instead the knob turns and the door drifts open. I rush inside to find a standard guest room at the Hurst Manor. Large in size with a generously made bed and tastefully decorative accents everywhere you look. One thing is clear: the room has long been untouched.
The hope that had quickly risen inside me plummets. I suck in more air from the sprinting I’ve done and question if I really am losing my mind.
Could the spice from last night still be fucking up my perception?
…but that wouldn’t explain all the other odd things that have happened, like the dresser no longer being in front of my door or the bloodied knife that had been left in my room.
Or this latest clue.
“What’s this?” I mutter, spotting a heavy trunk sitting at the foot of the bed. I pad over cautiously and then gasp when I read the name tag tied to the trunk handle by ribbon. The name scrawled across the tag in messy chicken scratch says Lyra Hendrix.
14. Ryu
Feel It - Michele Morrone
Isaw everything. Every stroke. Every thrust into her.
From the shadows where I lurked, I watched as the doors burst open and light from inside the manor spilled onto the lawn. Imani and Hurst stumbled out, their energy feverish. She dashed ahead of him to his calls for her to slow down or she’d regret it.
She only giggled harder and traipsed down the stacked steps leading onto the grounds. Impressive given the revealing dress she wore.
Hurst had no issue catching up. He used his long legs to close the gap between them, seizing hold of her arm as they came up on the hedge maze.
Immediate irritation blazed through me. My jaw tensed, the rest of my expression more sullen than usual. I shrunk deeper into the shadows as they passed me by none the wiser.
I had a choice—follow them and serve as a voyeur to their nighttime proclivities or return to doing what I should be doing and surveying the rest of the club.
Hurst pulled her into the beginnings of the hedge maze and then pinned her against the leafy wall. His hands worked fast. Her moans filled the air like a wanton melody. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he sank into her whole.
One hard thrust was all it took. They were gone to the moment. Entirely consumed by fleshly desires.
He stroked into her, and she clutched onto him, begging for more. The night concealed much, but I could make out the pleasure blooming across her face. The way her full mouth hung open and her eyes clenched shut. Her nails dug into the broad expanse of his back. His muscles rippled from under the neat white shirt he wore.
They rocked against the hedge like animals.
My nostrils flared and I sneered in disgust. The heat hadn’t subsided. It had burned hotter ’til I felt the usual cold exterior I hide behind melt away. My hand slowly gravitated toward the knife sheathed against my hip.
How easy it would’ve been. How simple and quick I could’ve made it.
They wouldn’t see me coming. They would barely get out a scream before I juked the blade into his back and then sliced her throat.
