Chapter 23: Sweeter Than Peaches Pt1
Vivienne’s hands trembled at the door. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising and falling too fast, like she had run a mile. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wood and she froze there, caught in the act like a thief. Her brain short circuited. Nothing made sense. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what expression to put on her face. She just stood there with her eyes glued to the door, feeling her heart pound like it was going to rip through her ribs.
What lie could she possibly tell if he asked her? What excuse could possibly cover this? Nothing. Not a single damn thing.
André, on the other hand, did not seem shocked at all. His calm was terrifying. He said nothing. Not one word. It was obvious he saw her. It was obvious he knew what she had been doing. He had seen her hand on the door. He had caught her completely.
Yet instead of snapping, instead of demanding answers, he simply walked to the bed. Calm and graceful, like he had planned this all along. He placed the tray down, straightened the plates, and sat down on the edge of the bed as if nothing at all was unusual.
Vivienne’s mind went wild. Why isn’t he saying anything? He saw me. He clearly saw me. He is looking right at me. Why isn’t he saying anything?
Her palms were sweaty. She almost wanted him to scream just so the silence would break.
Then, finally, his voice came. It was soft. Almost too soft. "Are you going to go in or not?"
Vivienne’s heart skipped. Her whole body flinched like she had been slapped. Oh fuck. He caught me. He caught me. I’m dead. I’m fucking dead. He knows. He knows. Shit.
She swallowed hard, unable to move, unable to speak.
André tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "Aren’t you going to relieve yourself again?"
Her brain blanked. "What?" she said out loud, louder than she meant to, almost a shout.
André’s lips curved slightly. His tone was patient, like he was explaining something to a child. "That’s the toilet, Vivienne. I thought you were going to relieve yourself."
In his head he thought, What the fuck did you think it was? A treasure chamber? Are you really that ridiculous?
Vivienne blinked at him. Blinked at the door. Her jaw almost dropped. That’s the toilet? That’s the fucking toilet? Why in God’s name would they build a toilet door like this? Why would they design it to look like a fucking mystery vault? This doesn’t even make sense. This entire house is built by lunatics.
André gave her that soft smile again, the kind of smile that could be sweet if it wasn’t so terrifying. "Go. I’m waiting for you."
Her cheeks burned. She forced a smile back, awkward, thin, and walked into the little room before she could make it worse.
Inside, Vivienne leaned against the wall and covered her face with her hands. Her thoughts came like a storm. There’s nothing here. No secret. No clue. Nothing. What a waste of time. I made a complete ass of myself. I wanted treasure and instead I found the shitter. Brilliant, Vivienne. Just brilliant.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit her head against the wall. Instead she sat down on the edge of the cold seat and sighed. Alright. Survive another round of his force feeding. Get through it. Then leave. Then search somewhere else. You’ll figure it out. Just keep your cool. You’re not dead yet.
When she finally stepped out, her face was calm. She smoothed her skirts, lifted her chin, and pretended nothing at all had happened.
André was sitting there, legs crossed, perfectly composed, with the tray of food waiting. His smile was soft, his eyes too gentle, like she was some rare flower.
Strangely enough, André didn’t feed her this morning. He didn’t shove bread at her lips or hold a spoon like she was a baby bird. He just sat there and let her eat.
But he never stopped staring.
Vivienne felt the weight of his gaze like a hand on her throat. She tried to chew normally but her fingers trembled on the fork.
At least he’s not trying to shove food down my throat today, she thought bitterly. At least he’s not treating me like an infant. But what the hell is this? Why is he looking at me like that? Stop staring. Just eat your own food, you creep. Eat your eggs. Look away. Stop staring like I’m the only thing in the room. I’m going to throw up if you keep this up. Eat your dawn food, damn it.
André, meanwhile, thought, Look at her. Sitting there, chewing, pretending not to notice me. She really has no idea what’s coming. She thinks she’s in control, but she has no clue. We’re going to have a lot of fun, Vivienne. A lot of fun.
Vivienne tried to distract herself by smiling as she picked up a peach slice. She lifted it to her lips, forced a polite tone, and asked, "Aren’t you going to eat, my lord?"
André tilted his head slowly, eyes fixed on her lips. "I’m not hungry for this."
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? What do you want?"
His lips curved into that devil’s smile. His voice was soft but sharp enough to cut. "You."
Vivienne choked. The peach almost lodged in her throat. She coughed and wheezed, slamming her hand against her chest. "What?"
Before she could demand an explanation, before she could prepare, André leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t patient. It was aggressive. His mouth crashed against hers like he was trying to eat her alive. His tongue pushed inside, licking her lips, devouring her.
Vivienne tried to pull away. Her mind screamed at her, Push him away. Push him. Now. Do it. But her lips betrayed her. They moved against his. Her body betrayed her. She kissed him back. Desperate. Hungry. Like she had been starving all along.
The tray went flying. The plates shattered across the floor. Fruit rolled everywhere. But neither of them cared.
Their mouths clung to each other. Their teeth clashed. It was messy, hot, desperate.
André’s hands slid down her body, slow and deliberate, until they reached her thighs. He squeezed gently, his fingers spreading against her dress.
Suddenly he broke the kiss.
Vivienne’s chest rose and fell rapidly. She stared at him with wide eyes. What is he planning? What the hell is he about to do? Run, Vivienne. This is your chance. Get the fuck out of here. Run.
But before she could move, he gently pushed her down against the bed. His movements were soft, careful, but his eyes burned with hunger.
He lifted her skirt slowly, inch by inch.
Her mind scrambled. Her heart pounded like thunder. This is insane. He’s insane. Don’t let him. Don’t.
Then his lips touched her skin.
He kissed her thighs softly. Each kiss burned her skin. She gasped, her hands twitching at her sides.
Then his fingers hooked against her underwear, sliding it away.
Her head spun. Oh fuck. Oh no. This is happening. This is happening. He’s insane. He’s completely insane. Push him away. Push him now, Vivienne. Push him.
But then his mouth closed over her clit.
Her back arched instantly. Her lips parted and a soft moan escaped before she could stop it. His tongue slid over her, slow circles, licking, sucking, savoring her.
Her head screamed, Stop. Push him. Get out. Get out now. But her hands betrayed her. They slid into his hair. Her fingers pulled him closer.
She kept moaning softly, each sound like a betrayal.
Her body shook. Her hips trembled. Every nerve in her body burned. She was losing herself.
When she finally came, the orgasm tore through her like a storm. Her body convulsed, her mouth open in a broken moan. She collapsed back against the sheets, breathless, trembling, eyes half shut.
André slowed, his kisses gentle now. He kissed her thighs. Then her knees. Then her ankles, his lips pressing tenderly against every inch.
Vivienne stared at the ceiling, horrified at herself. Her chest heaved with every shaky breath. I’ve got to get the hell out of this fucking place. I can’t stay here. I’ll lose my fucking mind. I’ll lose myself completely.
André looked up at her, his lips glistening, his smile soft and terrifying. Like a predator who had just enjoyed his first taste of blood.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to slap him. But most of all, she wanted to run.