It’s a familiar motion. Muscle memory. My hands know exactly how to hurt her.
How many times have I done this to her?
Countless.
She’s usually screaming at the top of her lungs by now, begging someone to save her. But the drugs have made her soft, compliant. Almost like she trusts me.
So still on the bed under me.
“No, wait. Please,” she says quietly, almost a whisper. Her collar clinks as she shakes her head. “I don’t like this.”
Rooke comes into view, holding his glass of bourbon behind his back, pointing with the other hand. I follow the line drawn by his finger, then reach out to touch the intricate carving on the wooden headboard.
There are three small lattices spaced in a line along the carvings. They’re just big enough that I can push some of the satin through and pull it out again. It looks more than sturdy enough to hold her.
Like a ring on the wall of a dungeon, like it was built expressly for this purpose.
How many girls has he brought here?
How many guys?
I seize her bound wrists and wrench her arms up over her head, my bruised knuckles aching.
“Ow!”
The satin slips through the hole, and I put my finger through the lattice to grab it, pull it. Satin whisks against oak as I yank the fabric out.
“That’s too tight,” Haven says, flustered now, shimmying her head against the pillow like she’s trying to dislodge the blindfold, her collar rattling. “Please, Bastian. I don’t like this.”
When I glance up at Rooke, he has his glass by his lips, knuckle pressed to his mouth like he’s fighting back a laugh. Enjoying watching me become the monster he somehow always knew I was.
Our eyes meet, and a surge of such intense fucking lust shoots through me I’m pretty fucking sure I’d have come in my pants if I wasn’t on molly.
Not for Haven. For him.
For the sickening approval in his eyes as I destroy her.
I drop my head, grabbing the top of the headboard to catch myself, my other hand going around Haven’s throat, right over her collar.
It happens so quickly, I don’t even know what I’m doing until I squeeze.
Haven screams, and I realize this is exactly what I’ve been wanting to do since the moment she came back.
All my rage, my threats, the weak shit I’ve done until now?
Foreplay.
This right here, having her helpless when I’ve felt helpless for years…?
This is what I’ve been waiting for.
Chapter 11
Bastian
I drain the last of my bourbon, swilling it around in my mouth to savor the sting. Haven’s scream fills my bedroom…and fuck. That sound is every bit as delicious and harrowing as I’d imagined.
My eyes slide shut as I walk blindly back to my chair at the foot of the bed, falling into it with a sigh. Pouring another measure of bourbon into my glass, bringing it to my lips.
