“Fuck...” I muttered as I came across her abdomen in hot, thick ropes, watching every drop paint her skin. For a split second, a feral thought flashed through me—smear it across her body, mark every inch of her, make her wear it home.
Instead, I forced control back into my mind. Then I swiped a thumb through the heat on her stomach and held it to her lips. She sucked it clean, her eyes never leaving mine.
I wasn’t thinking about getting her home.
Wasn’t thinking about Darragh and the shitty night that I’d endured.
Wasn’t even thinking about what her father would think if he saw his precious “asset” covered in cum on her knees.
All I could think about was her.
I’d ripped a man apart tonight, and she wasn’t hiding from me. She wasn’t afraid of the monster. She was kneeling in front of him, looking up at me like she wanted to be claimed by it again.
A man like me shouldn’t have something this sweet.
But I wanted her anyway and I was going to keep her.
Whether I deserved to or not.
I had just finished cleaning my doll up, her skin still warm, lips still plump red, and was about to escort her to my Mercedes when my phone rang.
I checked the screen. It was a call from my father, and not the first tonight. Ordinarily I would ignore it, but his insistence was irritating me—and despite my hatred for the man, a sliver of doubt always caught in the back corners of my mind: that something had happened to Mom, and he was calling to let me know.
I glanced at Ingrid, who watched me with wide, curious eyes before I stepped toward the window, answering the phone.
“Noah.”
“Why the hell haven’t you answered the phone?!”he roared, his voice distorted by rage.
“I’m busy,” I muttered.
“You’ve beenfighting,”he stated, his voice dropping into a low growl, “again.Are you out of your mind?”
“I thought you didn’t care about what I did,” I said, my voice cold. “Aren’t you the one who told me to get a real job? Why does it matter what I do in my own time?”
“Because,“ he heaved, “I know what happens in that world, Tristian. I know what happened before. You need to get out.”
“Because working for you would be better?” I shot back.
“Yes,”he said.“You’d finally be doing some good, honest work—”
Noah was cut off by the laugh that tore out of me.
“Your work, Noah, isanything butthose things.”
“Tristian—”
“You’re corrupt,” I spat. “Your whole business is. So don’t act like you’re saving me from anything.”
Noah was quiet for a moment.“You’re working for Darragh again, aren’t you?”
My blood ran cold.
But my answer was honest: “No.”
“I know he’s on the scene again,”Noah said.
My brows furrowed. “And how would you know that, exactly?”
