Chapter 158: 158 - forgive me
158
~Belinda’s POV
Richard’s eyes widened. "Tonight? But..."
"Don’t ’but’ me," I cut him off sharply, stepping closer so that he could see the determination in my eyes. "You heard me. I want it done now. And I don’t care how you do it, but you will make sure it happens where Damon or one of his brothers will catch you. Do you understand? They must catch you."
Richard looked pale, like he wanted to protest but didn’t dare. "Luna Belinda, if they catch me, they could kill me..."
I grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "That’s the point. Don’t you see? That’s how we expose Lisa. That’s how we drag her filth into the open. If they see you together, if they know what she’s hiding, they’ll despise her. Damon won’t defend her. None of them will. She’ll be ruined, Richard. Ruined. And you’ll be free of her too. And that way you will be useful to me!"
I stepped closer once more, my voice softer this time, though still commanding. "And Richard? Don’t fail me. Because if you do, I swear, I’ll make your life worse than anything those Alphas could ever do to you."
He met my eyes for just a second before lowering his head. "I will... try my....best."
I smirked, satisfied, and waved my hand dismissively. "Then go. Now."
He left in a hurry, closing the door behind him. I stood there in the middle of the room, my heart racing with anticipation.
The door closed with a soft thud behind Richard, and he stood there trembling. I could see it in his eyes—fear. His hands twisted together as though he wanted to disappear into the ground.
"My lady," he said carefully, his voice low, almost pleading. "What you are asking of me... it is dangerous. If Alpha Damon or any of the Alphas catch us, I will not live to see another day."
I narrowed my eyes, the sting of his hesitation crawling beneath my skin like fire. "So what?" I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut the air. "You think I care about the risk? You think I called you here to listen to excuses?"
He flinched at my tone, his lips parting in an attempt to reason with me again. "My lady, please... I am only thinking of your safety. Of your reputation—"
That was the last straw. The fury inside me, fueled by the memory of the triplets’ obsessive stares at Lisa, exploded. I raised my hand and struck him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the chamber, and Richard’s head snapped to the side. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t protest. He only lowered his gaze in submission, whispering, "Forgive me, my lady."
"Forgive you?" I hissed, stepping closer. My blood was boiling, my chest heaving. "Do not stand there and tell me what I can or cannot do. You will do as I say, Richard. You will obey me."
He lifted his eyes just enough to meet mine, torn between fear and loyalty. "Yes, my lady... It’s too risky... I have a family...the cost—"
I didn’t let him finish. Like a woman possessed, I grabbed his collar and shoved him toward my bed. He stumbled backward, falling against the soft mattress with a gasp. I climbed onto him, straddling his waist, my eyes locked onto his like fire burning through ice.
"You speak of cost?" I whispered harshly, my lips brushing against his ear. "Then I will pay it. With my body."
"My lady..." His voice shook, reverent yet terrified.
I tore at the ties of my dress, my fingers shaking but determined. The soft fabric slid down my shoulders and pooled at my waist, baring my skin to the dim glow of the lantern. The air in the room grew thick, heavy, and I could hear his sharp intake of breath. His eyes widened, and I could see the battle in them—panic clashing with something darker, something he was trying to bury deep.
"No—my lady, please, you should not—" he stammered, his voice shaking with fear and respect.
I silenced him before he could speak another word. My lips crashed against his, forceful and hungry. He stiffened beneath me, his whole body going rigid like stone. But I refused to give him the chance to retreat. My mouth moved against his with desperation, swallowing the sound of his protest.
I moaned softly into his lips, dragging his tunic open with impatient hands. The fabric tore slightly under my grip, buttons popping as I pulled it apart to expose the warmth of his chest. He drew in a sharp breath, as though every barrier I stripped away stole another piece of his control.
"My lady..." His voice broke, soft and pleading. His hands hovered in the air between us, trembling as though they wanted to push me away but could not dare touch me without permission. He looked like a man on the edge of breaking—caught between duty and desire, honor and weakness.
I pressed myself harder against him, forcing his back into the bed, feeling the solid strength of his body beneath mine. My lips trailed down from his mouth to his jaw, to the sensitive line of his throat. His pulse beat wildly against my tongue, betraying him.
"Do not resist me," I whispered hotly against his skin. "I am giving myself to you again. This is the price of your obedience."
He shuddered beneath me, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. I could feel the restraint in his body, the way he tried to hold himself back, but every time my lips grazed his skin, every time my hands explored the hard planes of his chest, that restraint cracked a little more.
"My lady..." he whispered again, almost broken now. His eyes closed tightly, as though he thought shutting them would give him strength. But I knew better. I could feel it, the tremble in his arms, the racing beat of his heart. He was losing.
Slowly, his hands, which had been frozen in the air, finally lowered. With hesitation, trembling, and uncertainty, they brushed against my waist. The gentleness of his touch sent a shiver down my spine. He touched me like I was fire, like a single wrong move would burn him alive.
But I wanted him to burn.
"Good," I breathed, kissing him again, softer this time, coaxing him deeper into the trap he could no longer escape. My fingers slid lower, pushing away the last pieces of fabric that separated us. His lips finally moved under mine, hesitant but desperate, and I smiled against his mouth, moaning softly.
Every kiss I gave him, every moan that escaped my throat, was laced with fury, with defiance, with possession. I wasn’t just making love to him; I was staking a claim, burning the memory of Damon’s and his brothers’ stares into ash.
And through it all, Richard whispered brokenly between my kisses, "Forgive me, my lady... forgive me."