“Sir? The SUV is waiting,” Jensen says through the door.
“Wait outside,” I grit out, pissed this is being cut short.
“Faster,” I command, and she does as I ask. My eyes flare with arousal at her acquiescence. My cock hardens beneath her touch, and if I don’t put a stop to this soon, I’ll be wanting to fuck her again. I yank her hair, elongating her neck. Her eyes widen, and she stares up at me with hate, causing me to smile at her tenacity.
“You did well, slave,” I smirk and release her, then tuckmy cock away and buckle up my belt, all while the outrage radiates from her.
“Where are you going?”
I face her and lift a brow.
Her eyes narrow. “Are you going to the auction?”
“Should I take you?” I muse, loving the way she jolts and shakes her head venomously. “Then do as I ask and be a good little toy. You’ve already pissed me off; you don’t want to see what will happen if you push me further.”
Her mouth falls open. “Pissed you off?” Her nostrils flare. She really can’t help herself, can she? “You took my virginity!” I flinch and hate that I reacted.
I pin her with a deadly stare. “I own you. I’ll use you however the fuck I like. You just fucked my leg like a needy whore and licked my cock clean like a greedy slut. Don’t pretend you don’t like this.” I wave a hand through the air between us.
“I-I’m not a possession.”
“Wrong. You’re my possession, Little Toy. Get used to it.”
Straightening my cufflinks, I ignore the fury emanating from her and head for the door.
“My name is Hevan, get used to it!” she bellows, and I slam the door. As I head down the stairs, her words play out in my mind.“My name is Hevan, get used to it.”I can’t help the smile gracing my face.
“Hevan.” Her name couldn’t be more apt for the devil himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Azrael
“Why are you smiling like a lunatic?” Jensen side-eyes me. “Your father is going to wonder what the hell has gotten into you.”
I ignore his comments. “How’s the girl?”
His eyes narrow, and a part of me is affected by his uncertainty over sharing her well-being. “As to be expected.”
“Are you keeping her?” I ask, and he stiffens, then fidgets.
“I might for now. Until she’s well enough to leave.”
“Could you take her to your family home?” I suggest.
We never discuss Jensen’s home, where he comes from, or where he disappears to every few months. I know his true identity, yet this is the first time I’ve made a point of knowing about it to him.
He releases a sigh, and his brow furrows before he reveals his concerns. “I want her to have a normal life.”
I nod. In our world, there’s no such thing, and keeping her, even in his actual home, could be risky.
“What about you?”
I feel a crease appearing on my forehead.
“You keeping the girl from yesterday?”
“For now,” I state.
