Chapter 71 AROUSED
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
KANE'S POV
I’d showered, dressed in a brand new crisp black shirt that always made me look untouchable, and told myself I was ready for the day’s dealings. Business as usual. But my pulse hammered too hard, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to crack wide open.
I pushed open the dining room doors and the scent of fresh bread and coffee hit me first. Eliana and my mother were already at thrtable, I didn’t spare them more than a glance. My eyes went straight to her.
Samantha.
She stood at the sideboard, back straight but shoulders tight, pouring juice into glass. Sunlight from the tall windows caught the soft curve of her neck, the way her dark hair fell loose over one shoulder. And just like that, my chest seized. She looked so much like Sally it stole the air from my lungs. The same gentle slope of her cheekbones, the same quiet way she moved, as if the world might break if she stepped too hard.
Sally, who used to hum while she fixed my breakfast, her laugh soft enough to make the hardest parts of me feel human again. Sally, who was gone. Dead. And here was this girl, serving my family like she belonged in the wreckage they’d left behind.
I dropped into my chair without a word, the wood creaking under me. Eliana’s gaze slid my way, sharp and hungry. She leaned forward, her red nails tapping the edge of her plate.
“Kane,” she purred, voice dripping with that fake sweetness she saved for me. “I’d love to ride with you today. Business or a hunt—whatever you choose. You know how good we are together. How compatible.”
I didn’t even look at her. My eyes stayed locked on Samantha, watching the way her fingers trembled just slightly as she set the glass down. “Not interested.”
“But….” Eliana started, lips parting in protest.
One hard look from me shut her up. She sat back, cheeks flushing with anger she didn’t dare voice. Good. I wasn’t in the mood for her games.
Samantha moved around the table now, placing plates with careful precision. Her uniform hugged her frame in all the ways that made my blood run hotter than it should. Everything about her pulled at me–her innocence, the way she kept her eyes down like she was trying to disappear, the faint scent of soap and something softer that clung to her skin. It was beautiful. It was torture.
My mother’s voice cut through the air like a whip.
“Can you serve this properly and then get out? We don’t need your clumsiness ruining the morning.”
“Yes, ma,” Samantha whispered, voice barely above a breath. She reached for the platter of eggs, but her hand slipped. A fork clattered against the plate.
I saw the flash of fear in her eyes before she masked it. And something inside me snapped into place. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch them tear her down. She was meant to serve just me.
“Samantha,” I said, my voice low and rough.
Her head lifted just enough for our eyes to meet. “Yes, Master?”
The title hit me like a punch, but I pushed through the guilt clawing at my throat. “I have needs that require attention. My room. Now.”
She nodded once, quick and obedient, her cheeks burning pink. “Yes, Master.”
I stood without another word, chair scraping back across the tiles. Eliana’s mouth fell open in shock. My mother’s fork froze halfway to her lips. I didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper about what a monster I’d become. I was already walking away, boots echoing down the hall, Samantha’s soft footsteps trailing behind me like a shadow I couldn’t outrun.
I shoved open my bedroom door and stepped inside, the heavy oak clicking shut. She was already on her knees before I even turned around, hands folded neatly in her lap, head bowed. The sight of her on the floor, waiting for whatever I demanded—sent a rush of heat through me so fierce it almost hurt.
But right behind it came the guilt, sharp and twisting. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t Sally. She was just a girl caught in the crossfire of my family’s cruelty, and I was using her like she was nothing. Still, when I looked at her, all I saw was Sally on her knees that last night we had together, eyes full of trust and love before everything went to hell. If Samantha wasn’t Sally, if she was just some perfect, painful copy, then why did she get to exist at all? The unfairness of it burned in my chest, mixing with the hate I felt for myself more than for her.
I stepped closer, fingers working at my belt. The leather whispered as I undid my trousers and let them drop. She stared up at me, fear and something darker flickering in her wide eyes…lust, maybe, or just the survival instinct that made her body react even when her mind screamed no.
“Take it in your mouth,” I commanded, voice thick.
She nodded, lips parting as her small hand wrapped around me. The first touch of her tongue sent electricity racing up my spine. I stayed still at first, letting her set the pace, breathing through the overwhelming rush. She was hesitant, exploring, but then she took me deeper, warm and wet and so damn eager to please. My head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure built fast and hot.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, guiding her gently, not forcing. Not yet. Every stroke of her mouth pulled a low groan from my throat. The tension coiled tighter, tighter, until I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I came hard, spilling into her mouth with a ragged curse. “Swallow it,” I ordered, barely able to speak.
She did, without hesitation, throat working as she took everything I gave her. When she pulled back, lips glistening, cheeks flushed, she looked so insanely beautiful it made me furious. Beautiful like Sally. Beautiful and not hers. Not mine either.
“Strip,” I growled.
Her fingers shook as she obeyed, peeling away the simple uniform until she stood bare before me. I drank in the sight—soft curves, the faint tremble in her thighs, the way her chest rose and fell too quick. I closed the distance in two strides, pinning her against the edge of the bed. My hands gripped her hips, and I thrust inside her in one smooth motion, burying myself deep.
She gasped, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to trap any sound. I moved hard and relentless, chasing the release I needed, the oblivion I craved. Every thrust dragged a fresh wave of conflicting emotions through me, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain, guilt that gnawed at the edges, and that relentless pull toward her that I couldn’t explain. She stayed quiet, body rocking with mine, hands fisting the sheets like she was fighting not to feel anything at all. But I felt it. The way she tightened around me, the heat of her, the quiet strength in her silence. It undid me faster than I wanted.
I came again with a harsh groan, collapsing over her for a moment, breathing in the scent of her skin mixed with mine. Sweat slicked our bodies.
I pulled out slowly and stepped back, trousers still pooled around my ankles. Samantha stayed where I’d left her, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the floor. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She just existed there, a mirror of everything I’d lost and everything I was destroying.
I ran a hand through my hair, the high of the moment already crashing into something colder. What the hell was wrong with me? I might be a monster—I’d always known that—but these days my own actions left a bitter taste I couldn’t wash away.
Ever since she walked into this house, something had shifted. The hate I carried for the world felt heavier, sharper when it turned inward. I’d taken her like she was property, like her resemblance to Sally gave me the right.
But looking at her now, small and used and still so damn composed, all I felt was disgust. At them. At the family downstairs who treated her like dirt. At myself most of all.
Samantha dressed quietly behind me, the rustle of fabric the only sound. I wanted to say something anything to make this less ugly.
To tell her I saw her, really saw her, not just the ghost she reminded me of. But the words stuck in my throat like glass. I am Kane.
She finished buttoning her uniform and stood waiting, hands clasped, face blank except for the faint redness on her lips and the mark I’d left on her neck. “Is there anything else, Master?”
“She sure was in a bad mood today. She really was”