I twisted my neck to glare at the dark-haired man seated at the head of the table, Micha Kessler, future king of kings. He was definitely someone in need of justice. Unfortunately, he’d attached himself to Riley, and I would never hurt her. One day, I’d find out how he managed to do that.
“Could’ve taken longer.” Preston shot back while dragging me over and pulling out a chair.
The seat was comfortable, with its navy crushed velvet padding and oak frame. That wood was strong and could come in handy when beating someone to death.
I grabbed the side of the chair and wiggled my butt to test the weight.
Pretty sure I could lift this thing if I needed to and at least swing it once. But I’d have to make it count.
Preston gazed down at me as if he knew what I was thinking, then tipped his chin at Micha, impatiently tapping the tabletop.
“Pay attention, Little Bird. Apparently, Micha has something to say.”
Annoyed wasn’t the right word. Preston was downright exasperated, and Micha seemed frustrated.
Excellent.
I couldn’t help but smile when Micha’s dark chocolate glare rolled, and he let out a long breath.
Welcome to my parlor, indeed.
“Marnie,” Micha growled.
I smirked back at him. “Micha.”
Could I pit them against each other, and if so, who would win? Micha was bigger, but Preston was lethal. Could be interesting.
“You seem to be in good spirits.”
“Oh, yeah,” I grumbled. “Getting kidnapped and raped repeatedly was at the top of my bucket list.”
Good times.
Micha’s brow rose. “So, right to the point, then?”
“I guess that depends on what your point is. Personally, I don’t really care, but you can talk if it makes you feel better.”
He sighed at Preston. “Can I hit her?”
“I got it.”
That was the only warning I received before Preston’s hand speared into my hair and yanked my head back. The burn across my scalp was outweighed by the searing pain reigniting from the bite on my neck.
“Remember what I said about good girls?”
I locked my glare on Preston’s and gritted against the pain. “Remember when I said go fuck yourself?”
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
Then he smirked. I should’ve seen what was coming next. One hand snapped his jeans open while the other smashed my face down into his crotch, giving me an intimate, way up-close look at his dick. Let me just say that thing was scary before, but feeling the hardness pressed against my cheek was downright terrifying.
“Smell that, Little Bird?” The ball on the piercing right next to my eye was mocking me along with his words. “That’s your sweet pussy on my cock.”
I hadn’t noticed anything until he said that. Now, it was all I could smell. It was sweet with husky undertones and a tad enticing. Self-hatred poured through me as my mouth watered. Deep down, a part of me wanted to lick him.
Thankfully that didn’t last long. Preston pulled my head back up and looked me dead in the eye. “Keep mouthing off, and you’ll get a taste of it.”
