But he let her go.
He let me have her.
He said it without hesitation.
That alone feels like a fever is breaking.
I don’t speak as I guide Becki down the stairs toward the basement.My brothers part around us.Whispers rise.Some jealous.Some scared.Some curious.
None of it matters.
Becki descends the last step and pauses at the doorway.She looks around the concrete room like she is seeing a familiar nightmare with different eyes.
“You bringing me back to my cage,” she asks quietly.
“No,” I say.“I’m bringing you home.”
Her breath trembles.Just a little.Just enough to hit me in the ribs.
I close the door behind us.Lock it.The click echoes, but this time it doesn’t sound like punishment.It sounds like a pledge.
Her back hits the wall as she watches me stalk toward her.Slow.Intentional.Dangerous.The same way she watched me walk toward her always.The same way she watches the dark and thinks it will swallow her whole.
I will.
“You sure,” I ask.“You sure you want what comes next.”
She lifts her chin.“I have been sure since the first night you locked me in the clubhouse.”
That is all the permission I need.
I grab her by the hips and drag her into me so hard her breath punches out.My mouth crushes hers, filthy, hungry, the kind of kiss a man gives when he’s past redemption.Her fingers claw my shirt, yanking it, dragging me closer like she’s starving for everything I’ve been holding back.
“Royal,” she gasps into my mouth.
Fuck, the way she says my name.My name.I’m slayed.
My knife is in my hand before either of us breathes again.
She doesn’t pull back.
She watches the blade rise, her multicolored eyes blinking, her chest rising fast.Her body leans into the danger like it’s the only thing that ever held her steady.
“Arms up,” I growl.
She obeys instantly.God help me, the obedience alone almost undoes me.I peel her shirt off slow, letting the cold air hit her skin a second before the knife does.Her bra comes off next.Her pants, everything, until she stands bare in front of me, trembling, but not from fear.
From hunger.
I trail the flat of the blade across her pierced nipples, watching them harden under the kiss of steel.
Fuck me.
She gasps, arches, pushes herself into the contact like she needs more.
“You want this,” I murmur, dragging the knife down her ribs.
A shiver rolls through her.
