“Tell me you don’t want this.”
“I don’t want this.”
She’s lying, but she’s fucking obedient.
Damn.
Fuck.
Biting my tongue ring, my forehead drops to hers.Our breaths mix.My hands shake against her skin.I’m so close to kissing her, but she’s our prisoner.
And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep my head.Legend’s warnings run through me.
A thought spears me.She escaped earlier.Someone let her go.I remember what I overheard.Oaks’ offer.Her eagerness.
I rasp, “Who let you out, again?”
She blinks.“What?”
“Who fucking let you loose?Was it Oaks?”
“No.”Her lips curl.“A club bunny.She brought me shampoo.Said I smelled like a whore left in a ditch and to clean up for you.I told you already.”
No matter what she says, I know what I heard.Her agreeing to open her mouth for Oaks’ pleasure.Get on her knees and suck his dick.It punches the breath out of me.
Replacing it?Possessiveness.Rage.Desire.A cocktail strong enough to poison an entire city.And what’s more.Proof.Proof that she’ll say and do anything for her freedom.Legend’s words float into the front of my mind.
Becki’s playing me.
Boots stomp outside the door.I snap back like I have been burned.
Becki gasps at the sudden loss of heat.
“Oaks,” I mutter.“Or Legend.”
Her eyes widen at his name.Because he’s the one she truly wants.
Always.
“They can’t see us like this,” we say in unison.
When I realize it, I’m sick.
I grab the knife, slide it into my hoodie, and step back fast, heart pounding like a war drum.
She slides her legs off the cot, chain dragging softly, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.She looks shattered.Flushed.Wanting.
I’m worse.
I get the door open halfway before I halt and turn back toward her.
“This never happens again,” I say.
She smiles like a sinner.“You keep saying that.”Then she tilts her head and adds, “Next time you drop that knife, Royal… I’m the one picking it up.”
It’s a threat, erotic or deadly.Both.My blood goes molten.I shut the door before I make another mistake.The hallway is empty.Whoever walked by is gone.
Good.
