I grip Cora’s hips tighter, fighting to maintain control as her body grips mine. The room around us blurs, conversations fading to white noise. All I can focus on is the sensation of her—tight, wet, perfect—moving against me.
“Mierda,”I mutter against her neck, my teeth grazing her skin.
I’ve had countless women. Beautiful women. Powerful women. Women who would do anything to please me. But this is different. My thoughts scatter like broken glass every time she moves.
One of her hands reaches back to grip my thigh, her nails digging into my flesh. The pain only heightens everything else, drawing a growl from my throat.
“Look at her,” Liam murmurs, his fingers still between her legs. “She’s fucking magnificent.”
I can barely nod. Can’t form words. Her body trembles against mine, taking me deeper with each subtle movement. I should be thinking about the plan, about Pike entering any minute. Instead, all I can think about is her.
It’s the vulnerability. Must be. The way she trusted us in the Red Room. The way she showed us her bruises. The way she looked at me when I took off my mask—like she was seeing something worth looking at. Something beyond the monster I know myself to be.
“Mine,” I whisper without thinking, my lips at her ear. Then I catch myself. “Ours.”
Ryder meets my eyes over her shoulder, something unspoken passing between us. He knows this isn’t just a game anymore.
She’s trembling now, close to the edge. I’ve never felt this desperate need to please someone else, to feel her come apart around me. Her vulnerability has somehow exposed my own, cracked open something I’ve kept buried beneath concrete and steel.
The moment I see Pike enter the dining hall, my entire body goes rigid. Cora is still wrapped around me, her back pressed against my chest, completely unaware that the architect of her misery has just walked through those doors.
Mierda.
I should have told her. Should have warned her that her father would be here. But I’ve waited so long for the perfect revenge that I convinced myself the cruelty was justified.
Now, watching understanding dawn on her face as she spots him, I realize I’ve made a catastrophic mistake.
“CORA!” Pike’s roar splits the air like thunder, his face contorting with rage as he lunges forward. “Get your filthy hands off my daughter! LET HER GO!”
The entire dining hall goes silent. Every eye swivels toward us—toward Cora, spread open and vulnerable, impaled on my cock while Liam and Ryder’s hands grip her thighs, keeping her exposed.
I feel her entire body stiffen atop me. Her breath catches. When I glance down at her face, I see the exact moment shame crashes over her like a tidal wave.
“Daddy, I—” Her voice fractures, and something inside my chest splinters alongside it. That word should be reserved for me and me alone. The moment he harmed her, he should have lost the right to hear it from her lips. “Please, I can explain?—”
Her instinct is to cover herself, to close her legs and escape. I can feel her trying to lift herself off me, muscles trembling with the effort. Every rational part of my brain screams at me to release her, to let her go, to undo this moment.
But I don’t.
Instead, my hands tighten around her waist, keeping her exactly where she is. I feel Liam and Ryder understand the silent command, their grips on her thighs intensifying, pulling her even wider open, exposing her completely.
The cruelty of it hits me even as I’m executing it. I’m holding her down while her father watches, while the entire room bears witness to her humiliation. Everything about this moment screams of revenge that has nothing to do with justice and everything to do with power.
And I can’t stop myself, because if I stopped and let her go, Pike would perceive it as weakness.
Cora’s eyes fill with tears—real tears, not the ones that come from pleasure but from genuine distress and shame. She whimpers, a small broken sound that cuts deeper than any blade.
“Let me go,” she whispers. “Please, just let me?—”
My grip only tightens. Dark amusement flickers through my chest at the sheer control I maintain over her, even as something deeper—something I don’t want to examine—recoils in horror at what I’m doing.
Xavier’s voice cuts through the chaos like a scalpel, cold and authoritative.
“Mayor Pike. Sit down and shut up before I have you removed from my establishment permanently.”
Pike’s face reaches new shades of purple, spittle flying from his lips. “That is my DAUGHTER! You can’t?—”
“Your daughter,” Xavier interrupts, his hand possessive on Mira’s thigh, “chose to sign the contract. Shechosetoparticipate in the Hunt. The rules were made very clear to every participant.”
