“If you are afraid of darkness,
you are afraid of your own soul.”
—Unknown
As Raife’s shadow looms over me, the fire in my stomach only burns hotter.
I knew it was a weak effort, whispering promises in his ear.Untie me, and I’ll show you everything you want to see. But the tingles dancing along my body just a minute ago have transformed into a fiery, slippery blanket, and I feel like I’ve been left in a sauna too long.
My skin is damp everywhere, flushed. My thighs rub together, seeking something.Anything. Friction, wax—I’ll take any of it. The knowledge makes my insides burn twice as hot.
The only thing keeping my butt on this chair and my mouth clamped shut is that I need these men to want me here. At least enough to keep me under contract until I figure out what happened to my sister.
Even through the haze, the more I watch Raife and see his fixation on pushing limits, the more my curiosity grows in thinking he could have claimed Frankie. Aubrey did say he claims almost all the girls at some point, even if it’s just temporary. Based on looks, he’s definitely her type. But more than that, Frankie believed, or maybe insisted, she didn’t have any limits. She loved nothing more than a man who wasn’t afraid to test them. To test her.
A sharp sting jerks my shoulder forward, and I bite back a hiss through the pain. There’s no warning, no hot trickle of wax this time. All I’m left with is a throbbing sensation, a tender spot above my right shoulder blade. He must have lit the candle again while standing behind me. I was so lost in my head I didn’t notice the light come to life.
“You know, the red flames really are exquisite against your fair skin.” Discomfort bristles across my shoulder when something thick and cool is gently rubbed over the fresh wound. The more he rubs, the more the sharpness soothes into a dull ache, and the more I want to turn my head and sink my teeth into the asshole’s fingers until I see red.
So many sensations are tumbling through me that I can’t tell if I’m turned on, scared, or pissed off. But knowing Raife did this to me makes me focus on the latter.
His touch retreats when a door I hadn’t noticed on the wall opposite us opens. Light seeps into the room, and I squint at the bright intrusion. A tall, broad figure strolls toward me, not bothering to close the door behind him. Even before I’m able to make out the smooth lines of his face, I know who it is.
Adam Matthews.
My heart swoops before fluttering against my chest. My already flushed skin heats up at the strange look in his dark, chilling blue eyes as he inches closer. One step, two steps ... each soft footfall feels like a threat. His posture appears so at ease. I’d never guess the tension coiled inside him if it weren’t for the shadowed way the lighting hits each hard angle of his build. The golden streams highlight every flex of muscle beneath his fitted button-down.
I don’t know if it’s from fear or whatever Raife did to mess with my head, but I can’t stop myself from squirming under his icy gaze.
He halts right in front of me, his shoes almost brushing the toes of my designer heels. He dips his head, eyes narrowing to slits as he leisurely rakes them over me. “You drugged her.”
His voice is more distant than it should be, yet the low sound vibrates down my spine as he confirms what I already suspected.
“Just a little concoction I’m experimenting with.” Raife’s hand lands on the curve of my neck, then he strokes me like one would a cat. The crisp material of his suit tickles my back, and I cringe. It’s sandpaper to my hypersensitive skin. “If I didn’t know better, brother, I’d think you almost sound disappointed.”
“Disappointed? No. I’d have to have expectations for that.”
Adam’s face materializes directly in front of me when he kneels. His hand comes up, then strong, warm fingers grip either side of my jaw. His hold is tight, almost uncomfortably so, but when he slowly angles my head to inspect me closer, the movement is surprisingly gentle.
My eyelids droop, and my limbs become too heavy as a dreamlike haze clouds the corners of my vision, the drugs making a home in my bloodstream. I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping my head up right now is the strength of his grip, because the rest of me has melted against the hard chair.
It’s surprising, all the details you notice in a person’s features when there’s nothing but a few inches of empty space separating you. Like the thick, masculine stubble around his square jaw. I’d noticed it earlier, but being this close makes me wonder if it’s the kind that’s shaved smooth every morning and grows back by evening. The dark blue of his eyes doesn’t look so black now, even while shadowed beneath a row of dark lashes. His olive skin appears exotic so close up, and I find myself wanting to know where he’s from. Why he and his brothers all look so different.
A strange shiver flits down my spine when he uses his other hand to sweep my hair over one shoulder. He leans in, inspecting the fresh wound that still throbs faintly. The cool material of his pants brushes the insides of my bare thighs, and awareness rushes through me as I realize he’s right between my legs.
A breath pours from my lips.
He pulls his head back, then looks straight at me. His gaze darts down to my throat when I swallow.
Something lethal flashes through his eyes. The tips of his fingers dig into my cheeks a split second before he releases me completely, forcefully enough my head falls back.
Raife’s chuckle is the only thing that reminds me of his presence. He walks to the tray along the right wall and sets the candle down. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist watching this one, but I’ve got to say, I didn’t expect you to join in quite so quickly.” He gestures to the candles near his feet, both now unlit, then raises a brow as he removes a square lighter from his pocket. “Care to do the honors? Personally, I enjoy the romantic look of a candle’s flame, but I’m thinking straight from the lighter is more your style.”
Adam doesn’t move from between my legs. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine either. “Since when do you get off on burning our hires in the Dark Room?” he asks so casually you’d think he were asking about the weather.
Raife’s footfalls head toward me, the sound reverberating in my eardrums as I think about the lighter still tucked in his palm, but I refuse to be the first to look away from the man right in front of me. The one who looks at me like he sees something the others don’t. Like I’m a puzzle to be worked out and he’s got all damn day.
Whatever drugs I’ve been subjected to have already screwed me to the point I can hardly hold myself up, hardly trust myself to speak if I tried. But a staring contest? This I can win, even with heavy eyelids.
