“Ow! What was that for?” I flick his ear. “Plus, I already couldn’twalk properly. So it doesn’t count.”
“Stop talking, Blaze.” He sounds like he’s regretting this adventure.
Too bad I want to see this through.
I groan quietly. “Boring.”
“I can use the tape on you, if you prefer.”
Grinning, I nip at his jawline, making him tighten his hold. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, lover boy.” My voice is saccharine, promising a night of fulfilling his deepest, darkest desires. Bloodlust really is a thing.
“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to fuck you against this tree over here.” He points to the left. “Then you’re going on your hands and knees on that boulder over there.” He nods toward the right. “After that, we’re going to the med bay so I can stretch your pussy out with a speculum while I fuck your ass.”
My face burns with the image, and I subconsciously roll my hips. Maybe I might be interested in a speculum after all. “Where does murder fit into this schedule?”
“One or the other, Klepto,” he says with an air of finality. “Behave or be punished.”
I consider my options for a moment.
“Both.” I nod. “I pick both.”
Kohen shakes his head and lowers me onto my feet as we reach a steel barred fence with spikes decorating the top. It has to be at least eight feet tall. I don’t think I could scale it on a good day, let alone when my foot is screwed, and I’m still feeling run-down from the past three days.
“Not to be a buzzkill or anything, but how the fuck do you expect me to get over that?”
He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. They reopenon an exhale, and he gestures behind me. “The gate, Blaze. The gate.”
“Alright, alright.” I hold my hands up. “Drop the attitude, smart-ass.”
Leaning against the gate, Kohen unzips the front pocket of the duffle bag to retrieve an old-fashioned primary key that looks like the ones the groundskeepers always have on hand. He stands back to let me hobble through after unlocking it, then stuffs the key back in his bag and shuts the gate behind him.
The princess treatment has well and truly gone to my head, because I place my hands on my hips and wait for him to carry me again.
Independent young woman,my ass.
I doubt my mode of transport is practical, but I let him pick me up and carry me against his chest like I’m a little kid. It’s kind of sad to admit that my inner child is preening at the way I’m being held.
“It’s easier,” he explains as he cups my ass in both hands and gives it a solid squeeze.
“Yeah,” I agree breathily, dropping my head against his shoulder when he uses his hold on my ass to grind me against his length. “Not hard at all.”
His steps don’t falter and neither does his breathing when I squeeze my legs around his middle, and all but choke him with my elbow against his esophagus. Moving probably hurts me more than it hurts him, but the black and blue marks covering my body are keeping me grounded. They’re the reason why we’re trekking through the forest in the middle of the night. As the bruises fade on me, I will bring them upon those who have made me suffer.
The rise and fall of his chest slowly steadies as we hike through the forest. Watching him grow calmer the closer we get to McGill’shouse is fascinating. This is his element—not murder or home invasions. He looks like he has the thing I’ve been lacking: purpose.Vengeance. It looks glorious on him.
I was wrong to think that I didn’t deserve a prince. They simply were never made for me. I don’t want the prince. I want a villain.
Holding on to Kohen tighter, we approach the property. It’s not the type of home I expected McGill to live in. For some reason, I thought he’d live in a shack or a mansion that’s barely holding together. I’m not too far off on the latter, but this place looks… homey, I guess. Fresh cream weatherboards, two stories, a brick chimney, coral roofs and awning, a flag swaying in the wind at the side of the house. A few bushes line the deck’s front, and several enormous pine trees circle the structure. It’s everything you’d expect from a country house.
All the curtains are closed, so it’s impossible to see what might greet us once we’re inside. A single light is on in one of the rooms upstairs, and Kohen lifts his pointer finger to his lips in the universal sign ofshut the fuck up, as if the situation isn’t obvious enough. I pull the finger in return, and the bruises on my hands immediately make me regret my decision.
Kohen quietly settles me down on the first step of the back porch, then creeps in front of me to try the handle. When it doesn’t budge, he raises his fist toward the door like he wants to smash the window in.
I roll my eyes and push him aside. Sure, let’s alert McGill to our break-in. If you want a job done right, send a woman and all that.
Huffing, I drop down to my busted knees and pull out gloves and the two paper clips I brought for this exact reason, but the latex gloves make the thin material harder to grip and mold. Onlya slither of moonlight shines on the brass door handle, making it trickier to see what I’m doing. Kohen crouches beside me to monitor our surroundings as I shape the paper clips and slip them into the keyhole. I hold my breath to listen for any sounds from inside, and all that comes is the classical music playing from another part of the house.
Tsk, tsk, McGill. You shouldn’t be up this late on a school night.
