Roman's Redemption: Roman: Book II (Roman's Trilogy) (22 page)

As she opens the door I shake my head before pushing the words out, “You said baby. You said baby.”

Both accusations seem to go unheard.

As does the whisper when Dr. Harrison leaves us alone, “You said baby.”

Chapter 30

I don’t know how, nor do I care why, everything I’ve dreamed over the last five years has come to fruition. My fingers curl and twist in Mac’s silky blond tresses before clamping down and yanking her head into my lap so hard and fast her forehead slams into my abdomen and my cock slips through the ring of muscles at the back of her throat causing her to gag.

A groan transforms into a growl as it releases from my chest and my fists tighten even more in her hair. The orgasm barreling its way through me causes me to fuck her face with every ounce of strength I have and it’s the most exhilarating feeling. So exhilarating it causes my mind to short out and confusion sets in.

Around the gagging and choking noises, the moans and mewls are no longer Mac’s, and when I open my eyes it isn’t her silky blond hair in my fists.

It’s Lizbeth’s.

Lizbeth’s slobbery mouth slurping and sucking, Lizbeth’s course orange hair. It isn’t Mac’s dark brown eyes looking up at me, it’s my sister, Lizbeth’s hazel eyes.

When I jerk, jumping from the bed, my knee connects with her chin and her teeth clack together, “Lizbeth! What the fuck?”

Her wide, muddy topaz orbs pool with tears as she speaks from behind her hand cupping the blood pouring from her mouth, “The fuh?”

Before I can answer she scurries off the bed towards the bathroom.

I don’t want to have this conversation. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to put it off this long though.

I’ve always known her feelings for me ran a little deeper than acceptable and for that reason I’ve always taken the necessary precautions to keep her at a distance. However, this game of house we’re playing is obviously beginning to blur the lines of right and wrong and I will take whatever drastic measures I feel are necessary to staunch this twisted fixation she has for me. I don’t have time to deal with her romantic notions or her childish fairytale dream of us riding off into the sunset in love. I have my own shit to deal with, and if she isn’t helping me get the revenge I deserve, or Mac, then she’s a weak link.

All weak links must be snipped loose, otherwise they’ll only drag you further down.

When she walks back into my room she keeps her gaze to the floor and my eyebrow quirks in question. “Thorry, duss needed ta grab my…” She slips her green silk gown up her pale thighs then each strap on to a shoulder and quickly turns to leave but my hand clamping down on the top of her arm stops her in her tracks.

“Let me see. What hurts?” She shakes her head before trying to turn her face away from me. My other hand grasps her chin and wrenches her face up to mine, “I said let me see.”

When her mouth opens and I count three teeth missing, I curse, “Fucking bloody hell.” My hand stings before I realize I’ve struck her face. “See, Lizbeth? Do you see? This is why you are not to act on these incestuous, dirty thoughts about your brother. You’re fucking sick, do you hear me? Let it happen again and it will be the very last time. By any means necessary. Understood?”

Tears stream from her closed eyelids and down her face, searing a wet streak over the reddened hand shaped whelp on her left cheek.

I shove her face backwards, “Get out of my sight.”

Before my door closes I hear Winter gasp, and her words are then muffled as the door clicks shut, “Mummy! Wha happen?”

Shit.

This is exactly what I do not need.

Do you see that young woman there? In the corner. Her eyes are always cast downward, if you’ve ever cared enough to pay attention. You see her? Good.

Now, watch her…if you pay attention. Pay very, very close attention, you’ll see when she flashes her hazel eyes as she glances up she’s quietly watching everything from behind the veil of her red ringlets.

The poor child, she’s pitiful.

See how everyone around her so easily overlooks her? It’s been this way all of her life.

I told you she was pitiful.

Such a shame.

She wasn’t born blessed with her mother’s olive complexion or green eyes like her brother, Sebastian.  She was also raised worlds apart from the way Sebastian was. Her mother sent her to boarding schools in Europe very early on and she doesn’t remember meeting her mother until the first time her school allowed her to go home for the Christmas holiday. Elizbeth was fourteen years old, dawning the precipice of becoming a woman. The day the plane landed on a narrow bumpy runway in the middle of California was the best day of her life. The excitement zipping through her almost made her feel breathless.

And even though you couldn’t see the disappointment in her eyes, it was there too. Only for a moment, but it was there.

Her mother didn’t look like she’d anticipated. Actually she looked nothing at all like the mother Elizbeth always saw in her mind’s eye. No long flowing hair and constantly changing hazel eyes, definitely not slim, frail and dainty like herself. Her mother had long black wavy hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back, every line and curve of her mother’s bronzed skin was accentuated with different shades of colors. Her mother’s figure was curvy, with large breasts and flared hips. Dolores Gorman was absolutely beautiful.

Elizbeth Gorman looked absolutely nothing like her.

But she refused to let it damper her happiness. Not today, not this day, she’d waited too long.

The days flew by so fast, and she tried to make time slow down, she did. She stayed up as late as her eyes would let her, and she woke up every morning before the sun rose.

On the night before her last night in California, she decided to take a walk through the woods in search of the waterfall she’d heard on more than one occasion. With the rest of the house asleep and no one really ever paying her any mind, she simply walked through the front door, down the steps and then took off towards the trees to her left.

It was so cold she could see her breath in front of her face. She huddled deeper into the warmth of her down coat. Other than the sound of twigs and sticks snapping under the weight of her boots only a hooting owl could be heard for the first ten or twenty minutes of her trek through the woods.

When she finally heard the sounds of the waterfall in the distance, her feet began carrying her towards it even quicker.

A waterfall. She could hardly imagine! The closest thing to a waterfall she’d ever seen was the fountains in the courtyards at her school. Just as she was rounding the bend almost at the foot of the incline she needed to climb, the sound of… something, or possibly someone froze her in her tracks.

She squinted her eyes as she skimmed the top of the hill, when they landed on a boy leaned back against a tree trunk breathing heavily. His beautiful profile was taught with tension, his jaw clenched, and his eyes alternated from blinking open to being squeezed closed. He seemed to be struggling, trying to get his hands from out of his gloves in front of him.

Elizbeth crept as silently as she possibly could until she could hear people. It sounded like they were fighting. Grunting or breathing hard, but she could clearly see the boy before her now, and she could clearly see he wasn’t shoving his gloves off, he was touching himself, rubbing himself. There. He almost looked as though he was in pain, the grunts emitting from him instantly made her tingle between her thighs. She didn’t understand that reaction. She tried to clench them together, hoping to ease some of the ache, but it only caused the seam of her blue jeans to rub firmly against something she’d never had rubbed before.

Her chapped, swollen lips parted and she nervously licked them over and over as she slid her own hand between her legs, keeping her eyes glued to the man less than ten feet away from her. She rubbed her dampening panties against herself with as much fervor as he stroked himself between his legs. She rubbed harder when he rubbed harder, when her nipples felt so swollen they became uncomfortable, without thought she slipped her hand up under her shirt and cupped her tiny breast. Lightly at first to investigate the unexpected change in her tender breasts, then rougher. Her eyes stayed glued on him, watching tiny beads leak from the tip and leak down over his knuckles, she let her need take over as her hand slipped inside her panties and rubbed harder, so hard it almost hurt, her fingertips pinched and squeezed, pulling her nipples. First one, then the other. From her view she could see as a stream of something white jetted from his penis. She couldn’t explain her actions or her need as she rammed one finger inside her, then on the second plunge two fingers slipped easily inside. As she rocked the heel of her hand against the little bump in the front, her nails sank into her nipple.

She curled her soaked fingers inside as she continued using her hand harder and harder watching, entranced as white fluid spurted from of the head of his dark, purplish penis.

When the pulls turned to yanks, and the lapping waves of ecstasy swelled into tidal waves she sank under…and barely, just barely she heard the sound of her own voice shrieking through the dark cold winter night.

Before she could get her breathing under control someone yanked her up from the wet forest ground and dragged her behind them so fast she was barely able to get her feet under her and her jeans buttoned up.

“Wait! Please, stop. I-I-I…” She huffed and tried to hurry up her steps so he’d stop dragging her.

He wouldn’t even look at her. Mortification and panic struck her like lightning and it made her chest feel like a bomb full of shrapnel exploded inside the cage and her eyes welled with tears. “I said stop!” Her heels dug into the frozen earth as she tried to yank her hands from his harsh grasp. “Please!” She cried. She let the tears fall and you could see the fear on her face…if you were looking.

But he never looked.

She gathered as much determination as she possibly could, dug her feet until they were planted and jerked her arms back. It just so happened to be the exact same moment he decided to release her wrists in order to berate her, her hands grappled trying to grasp his sleeves, hands, arms, anything to prevent her from falling.

She knew it was all in vain, the adrenaline coursing through her made time seem to go in slow motion and her effort to fight clumsy and useless.

But until the back of her head connected with the huge rock she tripped on only seconds ago, it didn’t dawn on her all her efforts to fight from falling were wasted.

That dawning lasted less than an eighth of a second before everything went completely black.

When consciousness rejoined her she didn’t know where she was. She knew it was somewhat familiar, but couldn’t put her finger on what it was that made her surroundings familiar.

Until she moved from the room she woke up in and made her way into the hallway.

This was her mother’s hallway.

How did he know where she lived? Her mind flooded with possibilities. Maybe he’s been watching her…like she watched him last night.

Maybe this was all fate?