“You know…” She arches her throat, rubbing my nose with hers. “You’re really cute when you get all Scottish-y. But I guess I’ll make it Cranberries next time. ‘Linger’. Or “Zombie”. And I promise I won’tbutcherit.” She kisses my cheek, disarming me for a moment. Shekissedmy fucking cheek? And invoked Dolores fecking O’Riordan!
How did she know? I’ve never told her I’m 40% Irish!
My grip on her throat loosens.
She spins, putting her ass against my pelvis and…she fucking wiggles it, rubbing against my cock, which she knows is goddamn steel by now.
“Maybe you really did break him this time,” Seth chuffs a laugh.
I brandish a daggered glare toward him before I tear the apron off my body, take my Lass by her waist, and sweep her into my arms.
“Rory!” she gasps, but I tighten my hold.
Vincent steps toward me, possessive anger threading his brows, but I warn him, “Don’t ye worry your pretty tats. I’ll bring the little songbird back soon…after some light discipline.”
Maybe a bit more than light.
“I’ll tell Raphael,” Vincent threatens as I carry Briella out of the greenhouse.
“Ye do that.” I wink back at him just as she rolls her eyes and tips her pretty head back with a groan.
I don’t take her back to my cabin. Instead, I head for the woods. I don’t care if Raphael beats me for it. I’m done.
Need me an edge.
39
Briella
I CAN’T SETTLE. I CAN’T LET MY GUARD DOWN. I CAN NEVER STOP RUNNING.
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Buried Alive”
“Bitter”
“Wanted”
“Forever Damned”
Istill can’t stand Rory, but I’m not afraid of him anymore.
While he hasn’t touched me for the past two weeks, he’s given me a new butt plug with oil every few days when I have to share his bed.
Like I will let him get anywhere near my fucking ass again! I’d sooner eat a dozen razors.
It hasn’t stopped me from using the butt plugs whenever he’s not around. Just in case. I can’t afford to let down my guard if they decide to put me through any new initiations.
But…there’s something different in the way he carries me now. Not over his shoulder but in this honeymoon hold. Strong. Not tender but possessive. No. Moreobsessive. He might get me all hot and bothered, but it’s obvious I do the same…if not more, since he can’t even handle my random singing and humming.
I guess I feel a small amount of power in it—enough power for me to lay my head against his shoulder. The prominent veinin his neck throbs, and his Adam’s apple bobs, but that’s all he betrays.
It’s not until we’re about a hundred feet into the woods that he finally sets me down and starts undoing his belt. He’s pumping iron down there. My breath stutters. That hot, wicked gleam in his eye returns.
“Are ye going to be a good girl, get on your knees, and lift that skirt up? Or will big Red have to make you?” His brows dance as he swipes off the belt.
I gulp, but I know Raphael hasn’t given his permission. I only need to buy a little time because Vincent said he’d tell. The psycho-alpha is probably on his way already.
