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JAMES

O rder.

If anyone were ever to sum up my life in one word, that would be it.

Order was what brought me into this world. I’d been raised to maintain it.

Order is why I followed in my father’s footsteps and went to law school. Why the initiation was forced on me. Why I had Topher.

Even the secret kidnappings, saving the other women, I’d been meticulous about those. Secretive.

When I decided there’d be a new kind of order, I went after my father. I didn’t get to kill him the way I planned, but that was a bump in the road. The how didn’t matter as long as he and Oliver’s father were dead, and neither of us were caught.

The shell company I used to pay for Ophelia? There are twenty of those. Twenty well-thought-out secrets spread throughout the world.

Stopping this vicious cycle before more murder and rape ensued has been on my mind for the past year.

Until recently, the plan had been perfectly organized, like everything I do.

Then I moved Ophelia out of her cell. Into my bed.

Into my life.

This, having my heart trip over itself, her blood on my cock—her lips repeating the word yours —none of this was supposed to happen.

This is the definition of a mess. Of calamity.

Of chaos.

Nothing’s been planned about this. Everything’s out of order.

This is a head-on collision.

And I embrace it. This anarchy.

Her.

“That’s right.” I flip her onto her back, pushing every bit of my cum that’s dripping down her thighs back inside her.

She’s warm and tight and sensitive, moaning at the invasion.

“You are mine. You won’t always like it.

Sometimes, you’ll hate it. I am not a good man.

I don’t know how to treat you like you deserve.

All I know is I’m never letting you go. Ever. ”

“You…” Her eyes are hooded. She moans and writhes. Tries to scoot back while letting me keep her close. “You are. Were. For them. For me. Good, I mean.”

This isn’t the time to discuss this, the entirety of my plan. She’s not ready. I’m still contemplating some of my next moves.

“Quiet, Ophelia.”

Her lips press together softly when she obeys me. The rest of her face—furrowed brow, scrunched nose—tells a different story. I’ve upset her. She’d better get used to it.

“I see you’re choosing not to listen, so I’ll tell you again.

I’m a bad man. Rotten down to the core.” I flatten my hand on her navel, tracing it up her body.

Curling it around her throat. “This monster owns you. Every part of you. I took your sweet little cunt when you said no. Sure, deep down, you were desperate for it. Didn’t change the fact that I took from you. ”

I’m being vile. Degrading. She arches toward me regardless, pure and sweet and so fucking feral. Taming her would be hot. Watching her roam free is even hotter.

I’m about to have both.

After she learns this lesson, where I show her just what a motherfucker I am.

Then we can move forward.

“Your fear, I’m going to have more of that by the end of the night.”

“Yours.” Her hooded eyes glimmer. Challenging me. “Yours.”

Can’t take it anymore. I give in to the need that presses into my ribs. Crash my lips to her swollen ones and kiss her. Even that feels like warfare between us. Tongues and teeth and grunts.

I yank myself from her, and she growls at me. Grabs the sides of my face, her slender fingers digging into me.

“You’ll regret this.” And I won’t give a fuck. Possessing her isn’t a question of if anymore. It isn’t a question at all. It’s a fact. “Once I claim your last virgin hole. Your flesh. Your life.”

“Do it.” Ophelia, brave and slightly unhinged, pulls me to her again.

I refuse her. Stay right where I am, snuffing out the need to fuck the attitude out of her.

She has no idea what she’s asking for.

I have no idea what we’re doing here. Not really.

Keep her, keep her, keep her .

Despite everything, I will.

Her defiance is maddening. She lights up parts of me I never knew existed. My head throbs, this onslaught of desire growing intolerable by the second.

They make no sense.

Lies. One of them does. One of them is familiar.

“You don’t get to demand anything, property.” Her nails dig into my skin, and I welcome the pain. It helps clear my head. Unfortunate for Ophelia, since I’m at my worst like this. “You can only obey.”

With my hand around her throat, I drag her out of the bed.

The days she spent in the cell have left their mark on Ophelia, the same as they have on me. I wasn’t supposed to have her here, in my room.

She wasn’t supposed to say, “Yes,” then release her grip on me and kneel just because I pushed her to her knees.

Yet here we are. Large dark eyes stare at me from the floor. At my cock, that’s hard again.

“You’ll start by cleaning this mess.” I point at the blood on my length.

Her cheeks flush, but her hand comes up, regardless.

“No,” I quip.

She flinches the moment I grab her wrist. “What did I do?”

No answer. I run my finger along one side of my cock, getting cum and blood on my fingertip.

“When I say clean it up.” One soft cheek and then the other have red streaks on them. I coat my fingertip in her blood again, smearing it on her parted lips. “I mean, use your mouth. Your tongue. Or that’s the end of the road for you.”

“You won’t kill me,” she snarls. Naked. Hair wild. Subdued. But not at a disadvantage. “I’ve seen your home. Heard about your business. You take care of the things you own. I get it now.”

She’s not wrong.

Too bad I’m not here to be kind or indulge her. Not tonight.

My hand is in her hair. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

Fuck, she’s such a good girl for opening her mouth. I hate how it draws me deeper into her. Hate how she must see it on my face. She darts her tongue out to lick her lips and tease me.

I’m losing parts of me to her.

“I treat my properties however I damn well please.” I pull on the roots of her hair, yanking her face up. Hurting her for what she does to me. “Now suck your blood off me. And Ophelia?”

Her shallow breaths and obedient gaze are the only responses I get. The only ones I need.

“Try swallowing it before I’ve had a taste, and you’ll be spending the next twenty-four hours in your cell.”

She makes a whimpering sound in the back of her throat. Then I fill her pretty mouth with my cock that’s hardening again. I shove her face into my groin and watch her gag.

“Fuck.” I press her to me. “So good. You should’ve never been this good. Fuck.”

At first, she can’t do anything but fight to breathe. She stares up at me, her eyes watery. Pleading.

“You begged me to take you. Make you mine.” As impossible as it may seem, I force her to take more of me. Thrust my hips into her. The head of my cock hits the back of her throat, and she coughs for me. Moans for me. “I warned you that you’d regret it.”

Her breathing evens out, but her nails dig harder into my thighs. She’s doing her best, taking me in earnest. Drooling for me. Fighting to survive this without swallowing.

“Was I right?” I’m being cruel, sliding my hand to the back of her head. Massaging her, comforting her while I’m choking her with my dick. “Do you? Regret asking to be mine? Not like your answer will make any difference. I own you. You’ll always be mine. I’m just curious.”

“No.” The world is garbled. “No.” Again. Not regretting it. “Never.” Her tongue moves on me as she speaks.

Fuck .

I cock an eyebrow, pretending this does absolutely nothing to me. “I remember telling you to lick something.”

Something barely leaves my mouth before Ophelia flattens her tongue on my cock. This girl. Fuck it all to hell. She knows. She’s learned what I like. What makes an electric current shoot up my spine and damn near blind me.

“Enough.”

It’s an effort to tear her off me. To glower at her when she’s being better than anything I’ve ever owned. This mansion. My law firm. My legacy. Nothing has or will ever bring me as much pleasure as her.

Nothing will ever be as addictive as her need to please me. To have me.

Me. The real person underneath the titles, the influence, the layers.

She’s stripped me bare, has witnessed the worst of me. She’s desperate to have me still.

Me.

That’s what she gets. I lift her by her hair, bending until we’re at eye level. Her lips are red, swollen, and pinched together. Cheeks slightly puffed.

Then she opens her mouth. Pokes out her blood-stained tongue.

An offering.

“You’ll be the end of me.” The confession pummels out of me. I don’t get a say in it. Can’t find it in me to care that she looks at me as if I hung the damn moon. “I won’t rest until I become your everything.”

Pressing my mouth to hers, tasting me and her together, is the only thing that matters. Rubbing my tongue against hers is how I’ll survive this. Her.

My pulse kicks up, my heart infuriated that I let someone in like that.

Fuck my pulse. Fuck the world. Fuck this heart in my chest that screams that this is wrong.

She’s here. Her blood and our orgasms are fresh on her tongue. Her lips. I’ve never understood why my clients say they lost control. When they try to describe how a switch flipped inside them, and they became more animal than human.

This taste, though. This fucking taste and how willing she is, my fucked-up little thing. The woman who told me no and now moans into my mouth, dragging her nails over my chest.

I bite her lip and get a fresh taste of her blood on my tongue. Devour her voice as she screams into my mouth. Pull her closer as she wriggles, hoping to escape.

“You’ll get your chance to scream tonight, Ophelia.” I step back, pulling on my briefs and sweatpants.

Her hands fall to her sides as she stands there, panting. Stunned at the abrupt separation.

“You’re getting dressed?” It’s adorable, the way she says it. Naked and sad and hopeful.

In the dim light of the room, she stands out like a beacon. Like a star in the night sky.

The need to snuff out her light so that no one else will get to enjoy it is overwhelming.

Except I won’t.

I’ll destroy everyone else before they even dare come near her instead.

I’ll make sure she never forgets just how mine she is.

“Ah. So needy for my cock already.” I shake my head. Take a couple of steps back toward the windows.

“You.” Her eyebrows knit. The distance wounds her as much as it does me. “I need you.”

“You’ll have me.” On any other man’s lips, it would’ve been a promise. On mine, it’s a threat. “You’ll have so much of me that you’ll be begging me to leave you.”

“Never.” Her mouth moves, her voice only a whisper. She doesn’t mean for me to hear it. She knows I will anyway. It kills her, how damaged both of us are.

And I’m just getting started.

“You have until I count to one hundred.” My arms cross over my bare chest.

Her eyes dart to the movement, then back at me. “To do what?”

“To run, Ophelia.” When my head tilts to the side, a shiver goes through her. “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do since day one?”

“I…” The corners of her mouth curve down. Her fingertips rise to one cheek where I smeared blood and cum on her. “You’re letting me go?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth again.”

Her thighs clench at my detached tone. She’s getting off on the humiliation. “I am.”

“I said run. I also said that you had until I counted down to a hundred. Meaning, I’m…” I scratch my scruff, pretending to consider this. “At seventy-five now. I promise you, you’ll regret it if you’re here when I get to zero.”