Page 46

“I always thought about getting her back.” Topher stumbles toward me.

He’s drunk, not high. If he goes into my bedroom, he’ll see her. He’ll remember it tomorrow.

He’ll seek retribution.

He could force my hand to eliminate the threat, as in him. It will be a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I don’t do those.

My father forced my hand once. I had to put a lot of work into making people forget he’d ever existed.

Ophelia isn’t the only one who isn’t ready. I’m not, either.

I flatten a hand over his chest to stop him.

“She would be fun to torture.” His speech is slurry. I’m the most sober I’ve been in my life. “I could build my own cell at the penthouse.” His home in the city. “I’d hurt her there. No one has to know. We could hide it from the Morgans, right, Dad? Why can’t I have what I want?”

God help me, another word about torturing her, and I’ll slash his throat.

I settle for gripping the collar of his shirt. Leveling him with a glare that means that another wrong word and I’ll kill him.

“Dad—”

“You don’t love her.” I seethe, my control slipping. This scene needs to end, and it needs to end soon. “I can’t save you from everything, Topher. Ophelia was sold. Paid for. It’s a done deal. The rules say we don’t keep women. For any reason. Get over yourself.”

“Fuck you.” His breath reeks of liquor. His eyes are glossy. But he means what he says. I know my own son. “I’ll go looking for her myself. I’ve been initiated. I have every right to do?—”

Thunk.

The sound is loud enough to be heard over the rain.

Topher stops mid-sentence, his eyes shooting toward the ceiling.

I don’t wait for him to ask What was that?

I don’t wait for anything.

“You’ve got some nerve.” My fist connects to his jaw. I’ve never hit or slapped him before. For Ophelia, I’ll do whatever it takes. “Coming to my house, making demands. Undermining my authority.”

He stares at me, shocked, blood smeared on the corner of his mouth. “Dad, what the fuck?”

I’m protective. A changed man. A human motherfucking shield. That’s what the fuck.

“You’ll learn to respect me.” I release his shirt, and after a second punch, he’s on the floor. I crouch next to him, my fist still clenched. “The hard way.”

His hands go up to protect his face. “Dad?—”

The third blow knocks him out. As intended.

That’s what he’ll remember tomorrow. His father losing his temper.

My heart pounds as I stand up, staring at his unconscious body. His pain doesn’t bother me.

Ophelia’s life does. Resourceful little thing, she must’ve rolled off the bed. She could be hurt, despite the plush rug softening the blow.

Leaving Topher here, when he could wake up, is reckless. He could catch me when I’m tending to her. He could come up with a knife.

No.

Into the cell he goes.

I squat, hauling him over my shoulder. A strange feeling—some would call it concern —nags at my chest. It pushes me to walk faster. I grab the gold keys I hide in my den and dispose of my son in the cell.

He doesn’t belong there. He also can’t be anywhere near her.

Once he’s locked inside, I take the stairs two at a time.

I yank open the door to my bedroom and run to where she waits for me.

On the floor next to our bed.

Fiery dark eyes shoot daggers at me. She screams behind the duct tape, lying on her side and wrestling against the ropes.

Beautiful. Feral. Majestic.

Possibly injured.

“Sonnet.”

“Mmmm!”

I go back to the door, lock it behind me, switch on the lamp on the bedside table, and drop to my knees.

Before I tear the tape off her mouth, I slide a hand between her head and the rug. Dry. No bleeding, thank fuck. Next, I trail a hand over her naked body. Her shoulders, breasts, ribs.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t cry out in pain.

Just screams at me the entire time.

“Good. Nothing’s broken.” I nod to myself, then narrow my eyes at Ophelia while I carry her to the bed. “I should punish you for what you did.”

I didn’t think her eyes could get any wider, or that her attempts to scream could get any louder.

Life is a learning curve, I guess.

I throw her on the bed, pinning my hands to my hips. I’d have placed her on the bed if I were a better man.

I am not.

“Punishment for what? Is that what you’re asking?”

She answers me with more muted screams.

I’m reeling from Topher’s deranged pleas. It’s the second time I’ve heard them.

And I hate this, hate worrying for her so fucking much.

“He could’ve come up here.” I move up on the bed, gripping one end of the duct tape. Leveling our gazes. Hers is heated. Furious. I imagine mine is murderous, and yet she doesn’t cower. “You…”

With my free hand, I trail the line of her jaw, my knuckles grazing her skin.

“You could’ve damaged my property. Throwing yourself off the bed like that.”

Tilting my head, I start peeling off the duct tape.

“Do you understand now?” A hint of her hot breath flutters on my fingers. She’s alive, a message that keeps repeating in my head. Alive and blinking furiously at me. “Why my hand itches to belt you until your ass bleeds?”

Ophelia eyes me as if she’s going to shove a knife into my jugular the first chance she gets. The throbbing in my sweatpants is just as violent.

I need to hear her.

Her filthy words. Her accusations. Her cursing me.

Nothing would turn me on more.

Nothing would speak to my hardened soul more.

“When I’m done removing the duct tape, you won’t scream. Blink once if you understand.”

She does. In one pull, I rip it off her.

“Punish me? Seriously?” she whispers, obeying me despite her visibly furious expression. Her muscles strain. “You’re such a bastard. A fucking asshole. Are you fucking serious? You talk about treating me as an equal, teaching me to fight. Then this?”

“What about this?” I reach behind her, undoing the knots around her wrists with one hand.

“You lied.” With her hands freed, she slaps me. I flip her on her stomach, working on her ankles while holding her down. I bathe in her anger. Her fight is just as hot as her submissiveness. “You don’t trust me to do what you say. To not risk our lives. A liar, that’s what you are.”

“Very well.” My aloof response drives her even more crazy. She kicks me, and I grip her foot, biting her ankle, making her hiss in pain. “Now that you’ve got it out of your system, here’s what we’re going to do.”

“You’re going to apologize.”

“No.” I have a hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her down while I climb up the bed and sit up against the pillows. From there, I move her to lie between my thighs.

“Let me go.” She claws at my legs, pushes against them to get up.

I keep her right where she is. “I’m a reasonable owner.”

Her relentless wriggling stops at that. At my cold tone. At being treated like a property rather than a person.

My property.

My lamp doesn’t offer much light. Still, I see her cheeks darkening. I bet she’s so fucking wet for this. “You were cruel.”

“I did what was necessary to protect you.” I brush the soft skin of her temple with my thumb.

She leans into my touch, just a little. She won’t be mad for long.

Not like it matters. I’d burn the world for her, even if she threw a million tantrums. “I can’t have the future partner in my law firm dead, can I? ”

I own her, true.

And she owns a part of me. One I haven’t known existed.

The trust and faith I have in her are unparalleled.

I hate this softness. I welcome it.

“What?” Her death grip on me loosens, confirming how much she wants it too. “Is this another trick?”

“No.” My hand is in her hair, dragging her higher up my body.

“But—But wait…” Her pout is adorable. “Wait. Law school. The bar exam. The other things. You can’t just?—”

“I can, and I will.” My hold on her hair isn’t punishing anymore. “Come here.”

That silences her. Without arguing, she does. I tug on her roots once her face is over my cock.

“Good girl.” I take myself out, my fingers curling around the base. “Mouth open. Nice and wide. Want those lips wrapped around my cock.”

Ophelia stares at my throbbing, damp tip, licking her lips.

“You don’t have to worry about a damn thing.”

She lets me lower her face to shove her down until I hit the back of her throat.

Gagging, tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. Pain is good. She can’t get too comfortable around me. Even when I use my dick as a pacifier. A tool to calm her down after what I just put her through.

“Shh. That’s it. Good girl. Relax for me.

” Releasing her hair, I stroke the soft strands.

“I— Fuck .” I grit my teeth, digging my heels into the mattress so I don’t fuck her face.

“Everything will fall into place. Only if you do as I say. Stay in bed tomorrow morning until I tell you it’s safe.

When Topher is gone. I’ll chain you before I’m off to work?—”

Her gasp has my cock twitching. My chest heaves.

I’m dying over here, pretending we’re sitting at the dinner table instead of having her lips wrapped around my cock.

“Yes, you’ll be chained. It gets me through the day. Gets me off to know you’re here. That you’re mine. And you’ll give it to me.”

She grazes her teeth over my length. I yank on her hair for a second, then shove her face lower the next.

“I’m doing this for you. Don’t fucking bite.” Showing her how serious I am, I dip my chin. “You’ll sleep better this way. Relax. Breathe. Take it.”

She hums for me.

“That’s my girl. Such a good fucking girl. Tomorrow, we’ll start our lessons. Go over past cases. You’ll be at the top of your class. You’re the smartest, most infuriating creature. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

I say those words to her. Whisper them. Mouth them.

She falls asleep with my assurances. With my dick in her mouth.

So do I.