Behind the Masks We Wear

Chapter 1

Thomas Fairfax woke up to find herself staring into a pair of intense, brooding eyes—Cedric Sinclair. Those piercing eyes filled her with a familiar dread, and memories flooded back of countless nights spent under his domineering presence, shattering her sense of security. Instinctively, she recoiled slightly, gripping the edge of the sheet tightly.

“Are you afraid of me?” Cedric's voice dipped, darker for a moment.

Thomas forced down her apprehension and, with a playful toss of her hair, smiled softly. “How could I be? I must have just woken up. Good morning, Uncle.”

Her skin glowed with warmth, and her almond-shaped eyes sparkled as she spoke, sweetly in tune with the misty ambiance around them.

She knew Cedric all too well; the more she resisted him, the more fascinated he became, like a cat toying with its prey. In his presence, any pretense felt mundane and irrelevant.

True to her instincts, Cedric's gaze cooled, the heat evaporating from his intense stare. He casually set down the glass of milk he'd brought her and told her to wash up for school before he turned and strode out the door without a glance back.

Sighing in relief, Thomas finally turned to look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The girl staring back was just over eighteen, with long black hair and delicate features. Although her youth still lingered, a breathtaking beauty was beginning to take shape.

God, how happy she felt. Even after returning to this youthful form for over a month, everything about her current life felt surreal.

In her previous life, after the death of Lady Eleanor Fairfax, Thomas had lived with her stepfather and her half-sister, Evelyn Moon. She had diligently worked for years to earn a degree, only to have it taken away, and to repay her stepfather's perceived kindness, she had dropped out of school to save up for Evelyn's tuition. Later, Evelyn ventured into the entertainment industry, eventually using Thomas as her stand-in—reducing her to someone unworthy of a name.

After relentless toil, Thomas climbed from being a mere stand-in to a rising star. Despite never regretting her sacrifices for her sister, it was Evelyn who ultimately thrust her into despair.

The fire wrecked everything; her back was left marred with scars, and a long, hideous mark snaked from the corner of her eye to her ear.

Only when she plummeted from grace did she truly grasp what it meant to be consumed by grief. The seemingly kind-hearted stepfather had, in reality, been a parasite, while her once-beloved sister harbored a ruthless hatred for her. Even her ex-boyfriend made it a point to torment her.

And then she had met Cedric Sinclair—this ultimate oddity.

To her shock, he seemed to revel in the contours of her scars. Every act of intimacy turned into a ritual where he would trace her back with his lips, leaving his mark indelibly stamped upon her. The more he demanded from her, the less she was able to let go. Yet he tormented her further, savoring every moment, every curve, molding her body as if it were clay—gripping and thrusting, whispering sweet nothings until she couldn’t hold back her soft moans…

The thoughts sent shivers down her spine. Though those feelings could have been intoxicating, they were largely tinged with painful memories.

Thank goodness she hadn’t been disfigured... perhaps Cedric Sinclair’s dark interests wouldn’t attach to her again.

Strangely, meeting him shortly after her rebirth seemed almost fated. She vividly recalled that last month when Lady Eleanor passed, leaving Thomas with two paths: one alongside her stepfather and half-sister, and the other to seek out her biological father.

Her mother had been the town’s beauty and left home unexpectedly. When she returned, she was eight months pregnant—a mystery surrounding her sudden disappearance that seemed all too clear to everyone but Thomas. Right until Lady Eleanor's last breath, her face had worn a look of deep regret; how could Thomas trust a father she had never known?

This time around, she had decisively chosen another path.

It was a tumultuous route, especially when she learned her father had already died, and her supposed future with Cedric Sinclair, whom she was meant to see eight years later, was actually her uncle—set to watch over her for the time being.

But that no longer mattered.

Thomas Fairfax gazed into the mirror, willing her mouth to curve into a smile, her dark, mischievous eyes twinkling playfully before turning shyly downwards.

At eighteen, she had dimples that appeared whenever she smiled, sweet yet bashful.

Yet, this very girl was precisely what Cedric—the twisted man—despised.

Chapter 2

Thomas Fairfax was right; Cedric Sinclair had no interest in her. For three consecutive days, he had not returned to The Manor. The Sinclair household was a prominent family in high society, and Cedric Sinclair, known as the domineering heir of the Sinclair estate, certainly lived up to that reputation. She had heard enough from her late father about Cedric's notoriously volatile temperament and disinterest in women. To make matters more complicated, she was his biological niece.

For the past couple of days, Thomas Fairfax had feared running into Cedric, staying cooped up in her room after school. Today, after checking with Sister Agnes, she learned he typically wouldn’t return by this hour, so she bravely ventured into the kitchen. Sister Agnes, the sole staff at The Manor, had been taking care of them ever since her late uncle Julian Kent had moved in with Cedric. Theirs was a peculiar arrangement, given Cedric's reclusive nature and distaste for outsiders.

Thomas, blessed with a knack for cooking from her father, shooed Sister Agnes away and opened the fridge, planning to whip up a simple bowl of longevity noodles. The last meal she savored during her tragic demise in a foreign land had been a bowl of her own creation, and she could still feel the warmth of her tears mingling with the broth. No one would come to save her; only she could be her own savior.

Wiping away the chill creeping into her heart, Thomas began slicing meat. Just then, she heard the sound of steady footsteps behind her—definitely not Sister Agnes's hurried shuffling, but a man’s stride. A gnawing sense of unease washed over her, and a weighty gaze bore down on her back, making her freeze. Startled, she accidentally cut herself, instinctively running her hand under the tap to wash the wound.

"Idiot," came a low voice from behind her, laced with suppressed frustration, yet he didn’t move closer.

"H-Hi, Uncle Cedric. You’re back," Thomas forced a smile, clutching her injured hand.

She had long learned that Cedric Sinclair was unpredictable; she couldn’t let him see her vulnerability. However, as he leaned against the doorframe, Cedric beckoned her over, commanding her to extend her finger.

Thomas hesitated for a moment but complied. At six-foot-one, Cedric towered over her and closed the distance. In the sprawling kitchen, their breaths became palpable.

Uncertain of his intentions, Thomas's heart raced, and she internally reminded herself to remain submissive. Then, a shadow fell over her, and his lips tenderly enveloped her wounded finger, licking the remaining blood with a softness that sent shivers down her spine.

She couldn't suppress the memories of their heated encounters from her previous life, and desire pooled in her body as her mind screamed to resist.

She couldn't pull back her hand, let alone speak—awareness of her own reactions terrified her. Cedric, however, didn't relent. After ensuring the wound was clean, he tilted her chin up, searching her eyes. "Are you afraid of me?"

She recalled how, during their first time together in the past life, he had asked the same question. Back then, she had nodded, fear evident in her eyes, only to hear him murmur close, "Fear is something you have to endure."

In this life, she was the exact type of girl he loathed. Where had it all gone wrong? Doubts flooded her mind, rendering her unable to answer.

Before she could muster a response, Cedric swept her off her feet, effortlessly carrying her to the sofa.

"Uncle!" Thomas gasped, heart pounding as she felt the rush of panic. She didn’t know how her terrified expression looked, her eyes glossed over with a mixture of distress and surprise, her sweater tumbling to reveal a tempting glimpse of her shoulder. It only fueled his desire further, and she stifled a low, involuntary sound beneath him.

Cedric’s original intention had been to tear away her ever-smiling facade, but at that moment, darker thoughts crept into his mind. Perhaps he wanted to break her, to see tears fall from those bright eyes of hers. The desire ignited within him, growing as he felt her warmth beneath him.

Chapter 3

Thomas Fairfax didn't want to make the same mistakes again, but Cedric Sinclair, ignited by desire, wouldn't allow Julian to escape. The scene was all too familiar. In a past life, the bulky Cedric would have sunk his hands beneath her blouse, kneading her breasts before flipping her over to kiss the scars on her back. He had always preferred to claim her from behind, possessing her completely.

But this time, Cedric was different. Instead of rushing in, he delicately bit along her neck, a teasing sensation that was not painful but sent shivers of pleasure through her skin, making Thomas Fairfax involuntarily curl his toes. Cedric’s warm hands roamed over her body, his impatience evident as he rubbed against her through the fabric of her sweater, the heat between them radiating. Thomas felt his legs go weak, a rush of warmth pooling below.

But this time, it was different; apart from the overwhelming force and restraint, their relationship was still forbidden. Cedric’s breath tinged her ear, the initial awkwardness now transformed into a primal hunger as he deftly undid her bra, his hands exploring her softness, sucking more forcefully with each passing second.

He was intoxicated by this feeling. Did her softness beneath feel as inviting as her skin? With this thought, Cedric's hand ventured beneath her skirt. Today, Thomas wore a dress, allowing his hand to glide freely to forbidden territory, teasingly parting her already damp panties and seeking out her petals.

A muffled moan escaped Thomas’s lips, overwhelmed by both pleasure and fear; she squeezed her legs together, whispering her pleas to stop. “No... Are you sure?” Cedric's irritation flared. He had little patience to begin with, and now, with fire burning through his reason, he withdrew his fingers from her most intimate place and presented them to her. Glimmering evidence of her arousal adorned them, satisfying him.

In no time, Cedric stripped Thomas bare, pulling her clothes off entirely. She was flawless—her breasts perking with a rosy hue from his earlier suckling and her excitement dripping between her thighs. She curled up in his embrace, resisting his touch. Once, she had feared him immensely, yet had pretended to adore him.

Cedric's eyes narrowed slightly as he realized that even though he didn’t intend to rush into claiming her completely, he was so far gone in desire. He gripped Thomas’s waist, ready for the final act. His arousal brushed against her, teasing at her velvety entrance, just about to penetrate, only to find Thomas in tears.

“Leave me... I hate you. You’re the one I hate most in the world…” Thomas sobbed, her hands that were once bound in resistance now hanging limply, her voice drenched in raw emotion. Cedric halted, an unexpected wave of panic washing over him. He lifted her to his lap, awkwardly trying to wipe her tears away, his low voice still authoritative. “Don’t cry, Julian. If you keep crying, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”

But her tears continued to flow, despair painted across her features as she cried harder. Cedric pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks, no longer proceeding further, both of them in a stalemate until he finally relented. In an irritated but resigned tone, he instructed, “You let it out, and we can forget everything that’s happened today.”

Before he finished his sentence, he took her hand, placing it over his rigid arousal. The heat radiating from him nearly scorched her palm.

She couldn’t believe he could be this generous. The rules of his twisted desires were utterly unpredictable. Yet, she asked, with a voice still laced with sobs, “Really?”

Cedric shifted his hips, the contact so intimate that Thomas stifled a gasp. “If you can’t, I’ll just take you down.”

He threatened, yet it felt like her heart teetered on the brink as the event unfolded.

Chapter 4

Thomas Fairfax hesitantly grasped Cedric Sinclair’s shaft. She had seen it before, yet it always managed to stir fear within her at its sheer size.

"Focus," Cedric commanded, displeased by her wandering thoughts as he squeezed her rounded backside. Thomas quickly looked down, her eyelashes fluttering. She wrapped her hand around him, moving it up and down in an attempt to please.

Terrified, but summoning her courage, she ventured a request, "Uncle Cedric, could I put my clothes back on?"

She was completely bare, sitting on his lap. It might not have mattered normally, but his intense gaze made her feel uneasy. She instinctively wanted to close her legs to prevent any liquids from leaking out.

“No,” he denied her flatly. Cedric's refusal was even more adamant as he took her nipple in his mouth, his other hand fondling her other breast, teasing it, creating a tangible friction. Under his heavy tongue, pleasure surged through her, making Thomas let out a soft moan. She quickly bit her lip, her eyes brimming with moisture. “Don’t… You promised no…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too embarrassing.

“And I promised under the condition that you make me finish,” Cedric responded with a wicked grin. “Thomas, you know the consequences. If you can’t, then I’ll start here.” He drew a circle on her breast before moving his fingers downward, tracing the curve of her stomach, stopping at her intimate area. His touch made her shiver, moisture immediately coating his fingers.

Terrified, she quickened her pace, her movements becoming frantic. Yet, the more desperate she got, the less effective she was. Her hand was already aching but his member only grew firmer. His threat echoed in her mind. Desperate, she leaned against his chest, her round breasts pressing into him, her hips unknowingly brushing against his hardened shaft.

Pleasure flooded her senses. "Please... finish quickly," she implored, her voice enticing, "Uncle Cedric, please…." She mimicked his actions, using her lips and tongue on his nipple like a kitten, licking gently.

His shaft swelled even more, and she quickly trapped it between her thighs, her moans becoming indistinguishable from instinctual or intentional. "I need… Please, give it to me…"

Such bold and suggestive words made Thomas's face flush deep red. Cedric’s control was slipping. His eyes burned red with desire as he held her hips, thrusting between her thighs. Each hit of his swollen tip almost breached her entrance. Their juices mingled, making it hard to tell whose fluids were whose.

Just this was enough to make Thomas's sensitive petals tremble. Her heart raced, her breaths short and rapid. With one final thrust, her petals finally enveloped his tip. The overwhelming pleasure made her whimper as she clung to Cedric's neck, her core tightening rhythmically.

Cedric’s last thread of self-control snapped. He forcefully pressed her to him as he released inside her. The hot sensation made Thomas tremble, her long eyelashes wet with droplets.

After a moment, she remembered her mission. With weakened limbs, she felt his now softened member, whispering, “It’s out.” Her tone held a hint of relief.

Chapter 5

The implication hung in the air: she could leave. Unable to look at Cedric Sinclair any longer, Julian Kent swung her legs over the side of the sofa, bending down to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor. The intimacy they had just shared left her feeling a bit unsteady, her toes curling against the cold wooden floor beneath her. Just as she reached for her clothes, a pair of strong hands grasped her from behind, pulling her back against the couch.

The weight on her body made her feel uneasy, and as she pushed against his chest, her voice trembled, rising in pitch. “Cedric Sinclair, you’re lying. You said you wouldn’t do anything to me.”

“I won’t,” he replied, his voice gravelly with a hint of satisfaction. “This is just a little tit for tat.” His lips curled into a smirk as he watched her flushed form, even after their previous encounter, he was clearly aroused again.

His rough hands began to explore her curves, sliding slowly down until they reached her most intimate parts. Caught in a mix of nervousness and desire, Julian felt herself react involuntarily, her body betraying her as it quivered in response to his touch. Cedric watched intently, his gaze sending a thrill of heat through her even as she tried to press her legs together, only to have him pry them apart with ease.

Using a tissue, Cedric began to caress her delicate skin, the paper becoming slick with their mingled essence as his dark eyes narrowed with desire. “So sweet,” he murmured, clearly taking delight in her helplessness.

“Cedric Sinclair, you—” she began, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, cutting off her protest as her mind clouded into incoherence, leaving behind only fragmented moans that escaped her lips. Weakly, she clung to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, a mix of desperation and longing coursing through her.

His tongue danced teasingly at the edges of her desire, coaxing her further into a haze of sensation. Julian lost herself completely to the fervor of the moment, her body responding of its own accord, flushing under his adoring gaze.

“Stop… please… Cedric Sinclair… I can’t take anymore…” The sultry tone of her voice transformed into a plea, but it only spurred him on. Each sensual flick of his tongue brought a rush of intoxicating sensation that left her breathless.

“Ah…” Julian gasped as her body reacted violently to the pleasure he elicited, her core erupting with desire until she felt utterly spent, a single finger refusing to lift as she fell apart against him.

“Delicious,” Cedric whispered with a playful grin, leaning closer to her ear. “The honey from Fairfax truly is sweet.”

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