Page 37

“Anyway, I couldn’t and wouldn’t sleep with Topher’s mom.

” His thumb on my jaw rubs my numb skin.

“I snuck in a doctor to do an artificial insemination. Even though she pleaded with me to do it, I couldn’t.

It wasn’t right. What was right was being kind to her while she was carrying our son.

She asked for affection, and I’d done my best. Sat by her bed for hours so long as I didn’t raise my father’s suspicions.

Made sure she got the food she craved. Keeping her happy was easy.

Mainly because she didn’t know the only reason she stayed alive was because she was carrying a boy in her womb. ”

“Why did it have to be a boy?”

At that, he frowns. “The women who carry daughters are murdered. Women aren’t part of our families.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure what to say to that. Of course it’s insane, wrong, and the most awful thing I’ve ever heard. I also wish he’d tell me more. That he’d trust me.

I want to be this monster’s person.

“She swore to me she wouldn’t come back. She lied. Couldn’t help herself.” No emotion registers on his face. I can tell there’s regret there, hiding. Lurking. “One month. One month and she was back.”

“For Topher?” Their son. James’s son with the other poor woman who I can’t stop envying. Fuck.

“Yes.” His chest expands. There it is. There’s the regret.

“I spent the night in the campus library. Oliver and I pretended to study. We were finalizing the details of our plan when she arrived at my father’s home.

Banged on the door. My father got it. He was the one who killed her.

He waited for me to come back. Had a gun aimed at my head as soon as I stepped into the living room.

I was younger. Faster and more prepared.

I carried a gun tucked it in my jeans, always.

He ended up shooting me in the chest. I blew his brains out. ”

“How did you survive?” When he says it like this, while he’s staring at me so intently, it’s as if I’m watching a movie. I splay my hands over his chest, stopping the invisible bleeding.

“Bulletproof clothes.” He shrugs as if everyone has them.

Right . “As I mentioned, I’d been prepared.

After that, I texted Oliver that the plans had changed.

He went after his father that night. His reasons for killing his dad were different than mine, though.

It had nothing to do with Camden’s mom. She was already buried by the time we killed our fathers. ”

The conversation about Oliver is for another day. There will be another day. For tonight, James is the one person I care about. Him and me.

“Your clothes are bulletproof? All of them?” My hands keep putting pressure on his chest. He grabs one, raises it close to his mouth, and squeezes. His lips brush over my knuckles, comforting me despite himself. “Do we have them on now?”

“Not now.” His gaze is strangely open. “I have a few sets in my closet. So do you.”

“Clothes? You mean more than just my panties?”

“Yes. You have a closet full of them. Like the pants you have on now. They were bought especially for you. All your clothes were.”

I have to kiss him. It’s stupid and reckless to fall for such a calculated, wicked killing machine. I’m an idiot for pulling myself up and pressing my lips to his, for letting him bite me until I yelp.

I shouldn’t be thankful that he’s alive.

I am.

“No one’s reported the other sacrifices missing?” I ask once he puts me back.

“No, for many reasons. The main one, I assume, would be to not mess with us. There are no refunds. And no one would threaten to expose us since it’d expose them too.”

Hope and wonder make me lightheaded. “So…Baylor is actually out there? You meant what you said about kidnapping her.”

He looks genuinely perplexed at the name. “Who?”

“Camden’s…” I won’t say sacrifice again. Fuck this.

“Oh, her.” He’s careful without being gentle in the slightest, the way he’s handling me. Arranging me to straddle him on the chair. “Yes, I managed to save all the sacrifices.”

“Thank you.” I sling my arms around his neck. Hug him for everything I’m worth, pressing my cheek to his chest. “What’s next? Where is everyone? Oliver and the rest of them? Why aren’t you going to the office?”

“You ask a lot of questions, pet.”

“You know everything about me. It’s only fair.”

“I admire your persistence.” He reaches behind me for something in the drawer of his desk. “How you lie to yourself about us being equals.”

I can tell it’s a game. A serious one, though. James is taking this—taking me —very seriously.

He’s relieved to reveal this side of himself.

But he also knows doing so is crossing a line.

He obviously couldn’t trust his dad. He can’t trust Oliver, either. The man who raped and killed Camden’s mother.

None of this sits right with James.

He’s going to stop it. I just know he will.

The question is how.

“Let me make this blatantly clear.” He’s back to leaning in his seat. My eyes are drawn to the scissors in his hand. To the dark look in his eyes. “I. Own. You.”

The scissors go to the crotch of my pajama pants. My breath hitches as I watch James pull at the waistline, creating space between my body and my pants, and?—

“Oh my God.” Having a man tear your pants down the middle is erotic. This is seduction. “Oh. I didn’t notice that I don’t have any panties on.”

“Be a good girl. My good girl.” The dull edge of the blade is cold on my pussy. It’s dangerous. Hot. So fucking hot. He brushes it over my lips, down to my entrance. “Stay still.”

I shriek, grabbing James’s shoulders so I wouldn’t grind my hips into it. I’m being his good girl. His property.

“Take my cock out. Let me see how well my little pet can ride me.”

He discards the scissors somewhere in the room. The faint clink against wood hardly registers. My hands are on the button of his jeans. On the zipper.

“That’s it.” He’s so thick that it’s an effort to drag the zipper down. His hand on the side of my neck encourages me, squeezing it. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. You do deserve a reward.”

My heart lights up. I’m growing increasingly dependent on his approval. Any kind of approval. I’m losing myself. I’m finding myself in his dark eyes.

I’m terrified of these thoughts swarming inside my head.

Of the look he’s leveling me with. Cold and hot. Ice and fire. War wages within him. He’s just as conflicted, just as desperate as I am.

He might never show it.

But he is.

“Please.” I palm his length over his boxers. He hisses. Curses. Fuck . “I’ve been so good. So good for you.”

“So why aren’t you riding my cock already?” The pressure on my neck is dangerous. He throbs in my palm.

I can’t take him out fast enough. While I do, he says, “Our families and the firm have a week off work. Everyone’s on vacation.”

“Not you.” He needs to attend to business here. Has to take care of me.

This murderer.

He threatened to kill me.

I’m pretty sure he’ll never call me honey or buy me flowers.

He’s giving me everything I could ever dream of, regardless.

What he’s doing for me, for the other women, is nothing short of chivalry. He’s the anti-hero I’ve been searching for my entire life.

When life gets dark, I’ll have him at my side. Darker. Fiercer. Fucking insane.

Mine. I’ll make him mine.

I rise on my knees, leaning forward. It’s so decadent, how he helps me sink onto his length.

I’m groaning, clinging onto his shoulders, hardly able to breathe. Desire makes my legs shake. His glare has goosebumps prickling my skin.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re tight. So wet for me.” His free hand clutches my hip possessively. “You’re such a whore for humiliation. For me.” He shoves me deeper down his cock. “I’m the one stretching you. Your sweet cunt. It’s mine. Like the rest of you. No one else can ever have this. Not even Topher.”

He thickens inside me. Pushes his fingers in my mouth, dragging them in and out on my tongue, railing me with his cock.

“He couldn’t have had you. Even when you were together.” He pulls his fingers out, placing his hand beneath my mouth. “Spit.”

I do as he says.

“Good girl. My Ophelia.”

“Yours, yours, yours,” I chant as he presses his wet fingers to my clit and rubs. My fingernails dig into his shoulders, almost ripping holes into his T-shirt. “No one but you. Always. Fuck . Yours.”

“Eyes on me.”

I didn’t realize that I tipped my head up, fighting to survive this onslaught of pleasure and James’s intensity. I look at him, falling deeper and deeper in love with this man.

“You’ll still be mine by the end of the week.” His face is pure determination. Pure rage. “Always. Say it.”

“Always.”

He takes me. He fucks me. Wrings one orgasm after another out of me.

James groans his release, and this time, I don’t pass out. I hug him, clinging to him, never letting go.