Dark Needs (Tales of Dystopian Decadence Book 1) by Finley Blake Page B

said, approaching the white horse and offering my palm for it to sniff. “I want to say yes, but I can’t do that for the same reasons you want to change all of this. I would never know peace if I lived like this, while accepting that others are in pain. If I can alleviate that pain, then I want to try. I have to do something.”
    Icharus put his arm around my shoulders and kissed me, his lips pressing against my dark hair. “The only thing that exceeds your beauty and your intelligence is your heart, Adette.”
    I bowed my head. Was the desire for revenge something he should commend? What about my determination to keep the Regime from hurting another human being? I curled my fingers against my palm. Was my acceptance that the death of Mr. DeVille was the only answer admirable or deplorable?
    “Remember the old saying that you need to fight fire with fire?” Icharus asked, as if he was able to read my thoughts.
    Raising my head and turning to look at him, I watched him for a long moment. “Yes,” I said. “I do.”
    “Good.” He lifted my chin with the fingertips of one hand and brushed his lips over mine. “If you give us time, you’ll find that our hearts are telling us the same thing.”
    I let his words hang between us, not sure how I wanted to interpret them, not sure I wanted to look for nuances that may or may not be there. Ever since my mother had died, no one had been nice to me without a use for me. Not even the headmistress. I reminded myself that Icharus was no different, even though hope – wretched and traitorous – told me it was possible he meant for something more between us.
    With deliberate thoughts, I reminded myself why I had gone to the school, why the headmistress had chosen Icharus, and the job they both expected me to perform. I was not here as a lover. I was here to play the easygoing coquette who was capable of performing murder like it was nothing.
    Tossing my hair, I smiled and pointed at the horses. “So, how do I ride one of these things?”

Chapter 9
    We’d indulged in dinner out here, a concert or a play there, ensuring the reigning elite saw us as a couple in all the right places. That included Icharus’s father, who still treated me with contempt, but looked at me in a way that made me want to do more than simply throw a cocktail in his face. The way he would glower at me made me feel violated, even though he didn’t openly ogle any particular body part or make suggestive remarks. He just watched me and that was enough.
    Tonight was our first social outing to an actual party and I didn’t understand why I was so nervous. At school, parties were a part of the curriculum. We used them to practice our socializing, our flirting, even our seductions. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined going to a party where the seduction would go beyond illicit touching in a secluded corner.
    Even though Icharus assured me the more sensual play would happen away from the actual soiree and with only a few “extras” involved in our scene, I couldn’t help but feel tense. The gown I wore was red with an elaborate laced bodice that crisscrossed my chest. My breasts were molded into soft mounds of cleavage that pressed against the very top of their confines. If I bent over, they would spill out for the world to see.
    Before fitting me into the dress, Icharus had strapped a small, vibrating device around my thighs so that it rested between my legs, against my clitoris. It hummed gently, controlled remotely by Icharus, and I was sure everyone would hear it, would know I was being primed for use behind the scenes…
    The party was at another home in the hills overlooking L.A. and our hosts were filmmakers – a beautiful, tanned, blond couple. While the wife raked me from head to toe with a bored look in her eyes and then turned away to greet other guests, the husband leaned close and his hand drifted down along my back to rest on my bottom.
    “So, this is the one,” he said in a low