Chapter 25: Little Liar: Chapter 25

It feels like déjà vu, watching Malachi wash blood from his body.

We’re teenagers again, and he’s just saved me from Parker.

Except this time, he saved me from our own mother.

I can still hear the man’s strangled choking as Malachi drove a screwdriver into his throat repeatedly. I can hear the blood splattering on the windows, how he fought to stay alive, even though his head was nearly hanging off.

I can still see the way Malachi looked at me when I slid his mask off—his eyes were a void, like he was close to drowning in his own mind from panic, but the tether we have between us kept him above the surface.

Dirt and blood slips down his muscles, and I stretch onto my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his. “Thank you.”

He frowns, signing, Why are you thanking me?

“You saved me.”

Malachi chuckles deeply, audibly, clearly, as he walks me into the tiles of the shower wall. His head tilts, causing his black hair to fall over his forehead, a smile playing on the lips I can’t stop staring at.

Clear as day, he speaks. “I’m your partner. Your lover. Your brother. Your everything, Olivia.” Then he lifts his slightly stained hands to sign, But what you are to me is something more than any words can explain. If someone found a way to remove you from existence, I would burn the world before making sure my soul found yours in the afterlife.

“How poetic of you, Malachi.” I smile at him. “You’re my boyfriend, not my brother.”

His eyes pinch at the corners as he narrows them, his hands lowering to my ass, grasping each cheek as he closes the distance between us—his body presses mine up against the tiled wall, his cock stabbing into me.

“And we’re going to stop referring to each other as siblings,” I add.

He shakes his head, looking like I’ve suggested we break up given the way he’s glaring at me. He’s so easily annoyed. A man with a short fuse.

To annoy him further, I slide my hands up his chest, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and fist his hair. “Tell me I’m your girlfriend. Tell me you aren’t my brother.”

He shakes his head again, this time with a firm jaw. Despite the anger in his eyes, his cock jerks against my navel, and I rub myself against it, needing him to touch me, to take away the memory of someone trying to kidnap me. I need him to replace the hand over my mouth with his lips, to make me feel anything but the paranoia and sickness in my gut.

“You need to choose, Malachi.” I lick my lips, arching my back. “I’m either your sister, or I’m your girlfriend.”

I’ve mentioned this before, but he really does need to choose because we can’t go around labeling each other as partners and siblings.

His eyes flash, his jaw so tense I think his bones might break as his hand slips up to my neck, grasping my throat. “Both,” he grits then slams his mouth against mine, his thumb pressing into my pulse as his tongue delves past my lips, tasting the moan leaving my lungs.

“I need you.” I take him in my hand, feeling him grow in my grip. “Please.”

This isn’t slow and romantic. It never is with Malachi. He lifts me into his arms and wraps my legs around his waist, fisting my hair to tip my head, kissing me deeper as he pushes into me.

Hard. Fast. Abrupt. He fucks me against the wall, dragging whimpers from my lips as he kisses me the total opposite from the way he’s thrusting into my pussy. He drags his mouth to the corner of my lips, my jaw, along to the sensitive area below my ear and nips the skin, making me flinch and clench around his cock.

“I love you,” I whisper into his ear.

He lifts his head, still buried deep, then groans as he shuts off the water and carries me into the bedroom. He slides out, throws me onto the bed, and shuts off the light so only the moon shining through the window glows on his face.

“I love you too,” he replies firmly, as if the words were hard to say instead of signing. He’s trying so hard for me and for himself.

I smile as he climbs on top of me, parting my legs around him.

“Put my legs on your shoulders.”

He hesitates as he takes one of my legs, and I can see it all over his face. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. This man has tied me up, fucked me in chains, fucked me unconscious, fucked me against walls and on all fours, even over our dying father’s body, and this is what he struggles with?

It’s not even the position. There’s something else there. His entire posture stiffens.

“You haven’t done it that way before?” I ask.

He looks away from me, but I force him to give me his eyes as I grab his jaw. “Hey. Talk to me.”

I’ve only ever fucked you, remember? His signing is angry, his eyes even worse, and my mouth closes.

“I’m sorry.”

A silent beat passes, his grip tightening on my leg, and he gulps deeply.

Show me, he signs.

I don’t want him to feel embarrassed. His cheeks are going bright red and he’s closing off on me.

I nod slightly, chewing my bottom lip as I lift my other leg, resting both on his shoulders. “Wrap your arms around them and hold the sides of my thighs with the opposite hands.”

Tentatively, Malachi does as I tell him, and his fingers dig into my flesh, his cock twitching against my slit. I reach down between my legs and take him in my palm, pumping him in the fist while rubbing his precum-soaked head against me.

His chest is rising and falling, the grip on my thighs growing harsher, especially when I position him right where he wants to be.

Like he wasn’t inside me minutes ago, I’m desperate for him, but I want him to take his time. I want him to be comfortable.

I know what he’s like. He’s going to be in his head right now, thinking about how this is obviously a position I’ve done before. And I hate myself. I hate that he’s not the only man I’ve been with, that I didn’t fight harder for him.

I truly believe I’m the only person Malachi has even as much as looked at in a sexual way—it makes me feel special.

“Push your hips forward,” I say. “Slowly.”

I gasp as he eases the head of his cock into me, his piercings rubbing against my glistening pussy. Each inch that pushes into me, from this position, feels deeper than every other position. I’m open for him as he slides in to the hilt, keeping himself buried as he closes his eyes and groans.

He’s not even wearing a condom—I’ve been trying to tell him to, considering where we both stand in terms of having children. I’m starting to hate the idea that I’ll never become a mother, but I’d never put something like that on him when he doesn’t want it. Ever. He’s more important to me than anything else in the world.

I arch my back as he fucks into me faster, a spiraling heat coiling in my spine as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, watching himself slide in and out of me.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, Olivia.”

My hands fist the sheets as he goes harder, my moan probably waking the dead for miles while the headboard smacks the wall.

He releases my legs and covers my body with his to kiss me. His hands fist my hair, tugging harshly as he devours my lips and groans and grunts into my mouth.

My eyes start to roll as he hits the spot that has me seeing stars. My body tenses, my arms wrapping around him, my heels digging into his ass to draw him deeper. “Keep going,” I cry, sinking my teeth into his lip and releasing it with a painful snap. “K-Keep going.”

Malachi buries his head into my shoulder and lets out a deep moan as my orgasm has my inner walls clenching around the thickness of his cock. I tense all over, my nails ripping into the skin of his back as I shake beneath him.

He pauses, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with every drop of his cum until we’re both breathless.

My eyes suddenly start to water, and after a few moments, he straightens his arms to look down at me. I blink away the tears, refusing to think about the last twelve hours.

He grabs my jaw to stop me from looking away, drawing his face near.

“Stop crying,” he tells me, whispering the words against my lips as we both pant from our highs.

The betrayal is lodged deep in my bones. I always knew my mom wasn’t a good person, but to do what she did…

I can’t describe the way I truly feel.

Dad had his driver pick him up and take him straight home. He was going to confront our mother and put an end to all of this. She’s been the catalyst to this arranged marriage from the beginning.

First, she accepts millions from Xander’s family for my hand in marriage, then she fights every step of the way when I beg her not to make me do it, then she arranges for me to be kidnapped and taken to the Reznikov family to be used and abused and wedded to an asshole who’ll do nothing but bring me hell.

I hate her.

I’m done with that woman.

Dad is desperate to hide us. He wants us to run. To stay away until he fixes everything. Malachi is in total denial about running. He wants to fight for me. I could see the calculating look in his eyes. He’s never going to run. He’s going to stay and fight for my freedom with every ounce of his being, and that terrifies me.

Malachi kisses my cheeks. “Please. Stop crying.”

I nod, sighing as he drops his head to my chest and hugs me.

When we eventually sit up, Malachi gazes over at me with his back against the headboard, watching as I run my fingers through my hair. I give him a questioning look when he doesn’t do anything but stare at me.

“What?”

I don’t know if I’ve ever really told you, but you’re beautiful.

The blush running over my cheeks and down my chest has me trying to hide my nervous smile. I don’t know why that melted my insides and made me a puddle on the floor. Malachi has always been expressive with me, but being told by someone like him that I’m beautiful is something I wish I’d recorded to watch over and over again.

I go to him, and he flips us so he’s above me, grabs my face, and lowers his to mine. His lips press to the tip of my nose, my forehead, each eye to soak up the tears, then he kisses me on the mouth.

For some reason, I feel safe. I know that we’ll be okay. Malachi’s struggles with his mental health and me being targeted by the Reznikov family will only be stepping stones for us. I’ll help him adjust to his new life—he’ll help me adjust to mine. We’ll be fine because we love each other to death.

“You’re… mine,” he says, falling over his words.

“And you’re mine.”

I don’t know how to beat them, he signs, his nostrils flaring, angry at his own words. I’m one man. But I’ll fight. For you, I’d do anything.

“We’ll fight them together. No matter how dangerous it gets.” I tilt my head, giving a slight smile. “I’d die for you—do you know that?”

He frowns. I wouldn’t let you die for anyone. Not even me.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, we lie in a warm embrace. He buries his head into my shoulder, and I brush my fingers through the hair at his nape, feeling him go heavy on top of me as sleep starts to pull him under.

Then he flinches and sits up, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. Turning to me, he presses his finger to his lips before getting off the bed and grabbing his bat.

Oh God. Please tell me they haven’t come for me?

“Olivia?” our dad calls, and my shoulders slump in relief.

Malachi’s body relaxes, then he tosses the bat to the floor. He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head at the second voice.

“Are they home?” I hear Molly ask. “Can I see the spider?”