He doesn’t wait to hear the rest.
He just steps against me, into me, and kisses me.
Haven’s kiss was a chaste peck compared to mine. This is brutal. Punishing. His teeth catch my lower lip andpull, and the pain sparks through me like electricity.
I should bite him. Headbutt him. Something.
Instead, my mouth opens.
And he takes everything I give…and still insists on more.
His tongue sweeps against mine, claiming more territory than I’m willing to give. And I hate that my hands are gripping his coat instead of shoving him away, hate that I’m kissing him back like I’ve been waiting for this, like I’ve beencravingit?—
He breaks the kiss with a low laugh just as I lose myself in it.
“See?” His thumb swipes across my wet lower lip. “You’re as desperate and horny as she is.”
My face burns. “Fuck you.”
“Don’t be so impatient, boy.” He steps back, scanning us like we’re auction pieces, and he’s considering what his highest bidwill be. “You two are going to fuck each other first. Get rid of some of that pent-up energy.”
Haven’s still pressed against the wall beside me, chest heaving. Her Alice dress is rumpled, apron crooked, one stocking slipping down her thigh.
She turns to look at me, a crease between her brows, like she’s asking me permission despite the glow in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest?—
“Kiss her,” Rooke commands.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I grab Haven’s face and crush my mouth to hers, pouring every ounce of confusion and fear and lust into the kiss. She responds instantly, her fingers clawing at my open coat, pulling me closer.
This is familiar. This issafe. Just me and her, like it’s supposed to be.
Until a hand grips my shoulder, urging me away from the wall. I stay locked on Haven’s lips, refusing to break our kiss even as Rooke guides me to the center of the room, until my ass hits the edge of the sarcophagus.
Haven gasps into our kiss, and I flutter my eyes open to catch Rooke sliding his hands over her hair, drawing it away from her face, dropping down to trace his lips along the side of her neck.
I squeeze my eyes shut, losing myself in Haven’s tongue and taste.
“Good boy,” Rooke murmurs into my ear. “Now take off her dress.”
My knuckles graze Rooke’s stomach as I tug down Haven’s zipper, and when it sticks halfway, he grabs my hand and we both yank it hard enough to tear the fabric.
I don’t care.
He doesn’t care.
Haven probably doesn’t either.
The dress pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a lacy bra, matching panties, and those thigh-high stockings I’ve been wanting to rip off her since she put them on.
“Leave the stockings,” Rooke says, leaning back to admire Haven’s ass as he scrapes her hair away from her shoulders. “They’ll be ruined soon, anyway.”
Haven shivers. From cold or anticipation, I can’t tell.
“Your turn.” Rooke’s eyes are on me.
I hesitate until Haven gives me a trembling smile of encouragement, nodding quickly. I shrug out of the coat, suppressing a shiver when the mausoleum’s cool air touches my back.
