All Chapters of My Tormentor Is My Lover [Tormentor Series #2]: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

ROSEThe world was dark behind the blindfold, heightening every sound, every shift in the air. Something clattered softly on the bedside table, followed by a rustle and his footsteps. Then the bed dipped, the mattress shifting as he settled back between my legs.“So… you want me to lick you up and eat you.” His whisper brushed against my ear, warm and sinful enough to make my breath stutter.“Yes… please.” The words slipped out before I could think. A moment later, his finger traced my bottom lip. “Open.” I parted my lips instantly, obeying him without second guessing. “Tongue.” My tongue peeked out of my parted lips and a second later a warm drop of bitter sweetness coated my tongue.Chocolate. Before I could swallow, another slow trail slid down my chin, my throat, my chest. Hot, sticky syrup dripping in a line only he controlled.I moved to lick my lips, but his voice stopped me.“No. Leave it.”That deep, hungry tone told me exactly what I must look like to him… and exactly

ROSE Weeks had passed since my accident. Since Ryan finally told me the truth about Ana—and about the woman who had given birth to her. Everything had happened just a week after his father’s death. Ryan had unraveled. Alcohol. Drugs. Fights. Anything that could dull the pain of losing his father, just like he had after returning from India when he thought he’d lost me. This time, though, there were no women. For that, I was grateful. It happened during that haze. One night, out of his mind drunk and high, a woman he’d been sitting with at a bar followed him back to his hotel. Ryan barely remembered any of it. He told me he’d asked her to leave once they were inside. He hadn’t been capable of doing anything, physically or mentally, and had apologized, telling her to go. But she’d been high too, clinging to the idea of seducing a billionaire. The next thing he remembered was waking up alone and naked. His wallet was gone. A month later, when he was nineteen, drowning in

ROSE “Oh my god…” The words escaped me in a horrified gasp as I looked at Ana. She looked back at me as if I had just kicked a new born kitten. Tears shimmered in her eyes as her grey eyes danced between me and her father. “I.. I—” Honestly, I didn't know what to say. How would I explain the turmoil I was feeling to a little girl because her father has decided to cage me against my wishes in the house that was supposed to make me happy but now was just a gilded cage? How would I explain about the toll my hormones were taking on me due to the pregnancy to an eight years old? How would I explain, why the hell did I slap her father? Swallowing the big lump in my throat and wiping the tears from my cheeks, I took a step toward her. “Angel… I—” I stopped short as fingers clasped around my arm, halting me. When I looked up, I found fierce grey eyes gazing back at me. Filled with rage and accusation. “There’s no need. You have done enough,” He said through clenched teeth, his lip

ROSE Shit!! Why did I have to say that? Why!! But, now the words were out. And, I couldn’t take them back, because as much as I regretted saying them I also didn’t want to take them back. I knew that it was the wrong thing to say but a part of me was okay with it. A part that was suffocating inside these four walls was okay with it. For a man like Ryan, who executed sexual tension all the time, at least where I was concerned… It was a fucking wrong thing to say. To blackmail him by withholding sex. Even though deep down I knew he’d never hurt me, that he wasn’t my tormentor anymore. But sometimes he scared me and right now that trepidation resurfaced as I watched him. He paced back and forth, in front of me, with his fingers curling into fists. I wondered if, this time, I had really pushed him too far. He turned abruptly, his grey eyes zeroing on me as he prowled toward the bed like a predator stalking its prey. Like a lion, ready for kill. I swallowed, my fingers fistin

RYAN I watched as my wife talked to Ana and noticed how happy she was. And I realised how much being cooped up inside the house had affected her. God, I had missed her smiles. And since we had slipped inside the Limo she was doing it more. Her green eyes were bright with excitement that she didn’t hide as she talked to my daughter. They were both deep in a conversation, comparing which was better strawberry cupcakes or strawberry tartlets. As I listened to Ana’s list of reasons why tartlets are better than cupcakes, I shook my head and thought about how I would tell my wife about her long lost father. That I had found him, or to be exact he was the one who found me. That, in fact, right now, we were halfway to meet him. “Rose,” I called to have her attention. Sometimes I felt jealous of my own daughter because in the last few weeks she was the only one for whom Rose smiled, whereas in my quest to keep her safe I had only managed to make her angry whenever I had talked to her.