Saint removes a gun from the back waistband of his jeans. “Open your mouth.” His blue eyes pierce mine as he attempts to look deep into my soul.
My instinct is to tell him to go to hell, but my sense of self-preservation is stronger, so I open my mouth wide, keeping very still as he slides the muzzle past my lips.
“Suck on it,” he commands, and I’d arch a brow if I didn’t have a fucking gun in my mouth and I wasn’t concentrating so hard.
I do as he asks, licking all sides of the gun while keeping my gaze trained on his.
“Fuck, that’s—”
Saint whips his head around, and Caz breaks off mid-speech. When Saint turns back around, his gaze is like a heat-seeking missile as he watches me with dark intent. A knowing, proud smile slightly curves the corners of his mouth, and I don’t know if he realizes it, but he’s let the mask slip, and he’s broadcasting his feelings pretty loud.
I’m eye level with his crotch, and there’s no hiding the monster bulge tenting his jeans.
Where Caz is turned on at the sight of me sucking a gun, Saint is aroused because I’mobeyinghim.
I have totally been going about this all wrong. And whatever tonight is about, it gives me an opportunity to change my playbook.
“Good girl, princess,” he says, releasing the tight grip on my hair and caressing my face with his free hand. He pulls me to my feet, reeling me in flush with his body. He nudges my hip with his erection, and I suck in a gasp as heat floods my core. Movement in the background is only noise as I peer into Saint’s eyes. “Do you know where we are, princess?” he asks, sliding his arms around my back.
“Prestwick Forest.”
“Smart deduction, and you’re correct.” He pins me with a shit-eating grin. “And do you know what happens out here?”
“You kill people and bury them in the woods.” They all chuckle at that, and I wonder what I said that’s so funny.
“Do you know what else we do out here?” he inquires, poking further. I shake my head. He smiles wider, rubbing his thumb along my mouth, eliciting a wake of shivers in his trail. “Good.” He glances over my head. “Ready?” he shouts. After a few beats, he looks down at me, grinding his cock against my pelvis and smushing his chest against my hard nipples. His eyes feast on my breasts, and I shiver all over. He smirks, letting me go, and I lament the loss of his body heat. “I really hope I’m not wrong about you, princess,” he whispers in my ear before tugging me through the trees by the elbow.
The others are standing around an opening in the ground, looking down and sharing wicked grins.
“It’s set,” Galen says, his voice cold and unfeeling.
“Down you go, princess.” Saint brings me to the edge of the pit, where a rope ladder has been slotted into the ground.
I lean over, peering into the pitch-black pit, shivering uncontrollably. “I’m not going down there.”
Saint shakes his head, gripping my elbow tighter. “Already disappointing me.”
“Let me clarify,” Galen says, approaching me with lethal menace. “Climb down, or I’ll gladly throw your ass in there.” His eyes drop to my chest, and I hate that my nipples are rigid and poking through the front of my thin sleep shirt. He lifts his head, smirking, and his know-it-all demeanor grates on my last nerve.
“They’re hard because I’m cold, asshole, not because I’m aroused.”
“You can lie to yourself, angel, but we all know the truth.” He leans in close to my face. “You’re every bit as fucked up as we are. Maybe more so.”
He’s quite possibly right, but I’m not confirming that out loud.
“What’s it to be, princess?” Saint says. “You going willingly, or not?”
My gaze meets Theo’s, and his eyes urge me to climb down, his expression suggesting he’s got my back. For a split second, we’re co-conspirators again until I remember where I am, who I’m with, and how I got here.
“I need my hands,” I say, averting my eyes from Theo and staring back at his annoyingly hot leader.
Saint’s amused smile irks me. “So use them.” The meaning is clear, and I think he knows, as well as I do, that I could’ve freed myself the minute Galen tied me up.
It takes me longer than usual, because that asshole tied them super tight, but I manage to get free a couple minutes later, and the rope falls to the ground at my feet. Galen and Saint share a look as I step up to the ladder and start climbing down.
The lower I go, the more my trepidation builds, but I refuse to let fear get the best of me, so I focus on my movements and my breathing, ignoring the way my heart is racing, my palms are suddenly sweaty, and blood is rushing to my ears.
I plant my feet on the muddy ground, shuddering as I look around. It’s not actually that deep, and I can still see the guys standing around the edge, looking down. But it’s deep enough that as soon as they whip the rope ladder away, and I realize I have no way out of here, panic starts to crawl up my throat.
