My heart slams against my ribs, and fear momentarily dazes me.
“Show me.” He tucks his hands behind his head again, his eyes on me. “Show me how you’ll ride his cock.”
“Noah, please—”
“A firm hand, Delilah.” He glances toward the camera. “That’s what I need to have with you. A firm hand that guides you back down the proper path.”
This is all a show. He’s in on it. I tell myself these things over and over again, but it doesn’t change the shame that creeps into my cheeks. It doesn’t stop tears from pricking behind my eyes. He has to degrade me for the camera. For show. But my humiliation is as real as it ever was.
Reaching up, he grabs my dress, freeing it from my hip and bunching it in his fist. “Ride me, Maiden.”
I close my eyes and move my hips. My skin scrapes against the seam of his jeans, but I keep undulating. With my eyes closed, I can pretend Adam is beneath me. Even though everything tells me it’s another man. Noah doesn’t smell the same, doesn’t speak in the same gravelly voice. No, it’s Adam. I force my mind into compliance, and imagine Adam staring up at me with his unfathomable dark eyes. “Ride me, little lamb.”
My hips loosen, and I let myself go more, let myself feel Adam beneath me. His cock hardening, his thighs tensing, his breathing speeding up. His hands digging into my hips as I rub myself against him again and again. My nipples harden, tingling with need as I lick my lips and think about him, his hands, his belt, his tongue.
“Fuck.” A voice. Not Adam’s.
I slow and stop. Opening my eyes, I find Noah beneath me, his jaw tight, his eyes heavy-lidded and intense. More shame, more embarrassment—everything piles onto my heart. I cover my face.
“Delilah.” His voice is gruff. “That’s enough for now. You’re learning. The senator will be more than pleased with your fucking skills.”
I climb off him and lay back down.
He turns toward me, his back to the camera. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“It’s okay.” Is it?
“We have to. Understand? We have to do this.”
I nod and meet his gaze. “I know.”
His brow furrows. “Don’t cry.” He swipes my tears with his thumb. He’s gentle. His nature is far softer than Adam’s, but I can sense something steely underneath.
“I want to be strong. I’m trying.”
“You are. You’re just like your sister.” His throat closes on the last word, and he’s silent for a long while.
How could I have thought he was the one to hurt Georgia? God, I’m so blind. It wasn’t Noah. Then again, Noah knows who it was.
“Tell me who hurt her. Please.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” My whisper gets a little too loud, and he presses his finger to his lips.
I try again. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“I just can’t. Please don’t ask me.”
“Was it Adam?” I blurt.
“No. But that’s all I’m saying. Maybe a time will come when you’ll find out, but I can promise you it won’t be from me.”
I have the urge to reach out and pinch him. I don’t. “Who are you protecting? It has to be someone close to you.”
He flinches but doesn’t answer. Instead, he changes the subject. “Something’s coming. A change. I don’t know when, but it’s on the way.”
“What kind of change?”
“There’s going to be a fight. You just need to keep yourself safe. If anything happens to you, Adam will kill me.”
“Is he okay?”
“I think so. He’s somewhere on the compound.”
“Where?”
“I have a guess or two, but I can’t follow up on them right now. Dad is too suspicious. Paranoid since Adam disappeared. I have to watch my back.”
“Can you do something for me?”
He lets out a breath through pursed lips. “Doubt it. But what?”
“My mom, they have her in the Rectory. Could—”
“I can’t get her out.”
This time I do pinch him.
“Ow.” He glowers.
“I wasn’t finished. They have her. Could you visit her at least? Tell her that everything’s going to be all right?”
“What good will that do?”
“I’ve been where she is. I know what it feels like. If you can just get to her somehow. Tell her—” I swallow hard. “Tell her that I’m going to get her out. It won’t be long.”
His eyes soften. “So you want me to lie to her?”
I fist my hands. “It’s not a lie.”
“Sounds like one to me.”
“I’m getting out of here. I’m going to—”
“What? You’re going to what? Look, I don’t want to burst your rescue bubble, but you’re trapped in here. No escape for you or your mom or any of us. Unless you have an arsenal I’m not aware of, you aren’t blasting your way out.”
“I agree.” Everything he’s said is true. But I have one option, one way to bring this place down. It’s not with guns and war. At least, not yet.