Page 41 of C is For Corruption (Horsemen #3)

Victoria

The couch cushion dipped beside me, and before I could even blink, Craig’s arm was around my shoulders, tugging me into his chest like he’d been waiting for me to fall apart the second we were alone.

Maybe I had.

The silence between us was soft, not stifling.

His hand ran slow circles against my upper arm, grounding me as I stared at the blank television screen.

Neither of us had turned on a light, The glow from the streetlamp outside spilled in through the window, striping the hardwood floor in pale yellow lines.

“I didn’t know he hated me that much,” I finally whispered, the words catching on a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “That wall? That’s not grief. That’s—” My voice cracked, and I shook my head, eyes burning. “That’s hate. That’s twisted.”

Craig didn’t answer right away. He just pulled me closer, his hand coming up to cradle the back of my head, pressing a kiss into my hair.

“You didn’t deserve any of it,” he murmured. “What Joey’s doing… it’s not your fault. Grief warps people. Especially when you don’t know how to carry it.”

“I miss him,” I said, voice tight. “Rich. God, I miss him. And I miss Joey too. I miss who he used to be. Now he looks at me like he’s waiting for me to snap my fingers and destroy his world.”

“You didn’t destroy anything,” Craig said firmly. “You’re not the villain in this, Bunny. You’re the one still standing after everything fell apart.”

The ache in my chest felt like something carved into bone.

Like the kind of pain you didn’t just cry out, you bled out.

I must’ve stayed tucked under his arm longer than I realized because the next time I blinked, I felt the energy in the room shift.

My eyes flicked toward the hallway, and Az was standing there.

He was barefoot, his clothes sleep-wrinkled and disheveled. Tension wound tight beneath his skin, and he looked like he was one wrong word away from breaking something. Craig’s arm loosened from around me, his gaze cutting toward Az before he pressed another kiss to my temple.

“I got her,” Az said quietly. Craig nodded once, like they’d said everything they needed to without speaking, then stood. He paused before leaving, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You good?” Craig asked me softly, brushing his thumb one last time before standing.

I nodded, even if I wasn’t.

He kissed my forehead warmly and said, “I’m right down the hall if you need me.”

Az didn’t move until Craig was gone. Then he exhaled hard, like holding it in too long had started to hurt.

“Come here,” he said, voice low and rough.

I stood and crossed the room slowly. His arms came around me when I was within reach, tight and anchoring, everything I didn’t know I’d been craving.

His hand slid up the back of my neck and held me there, his lips pressing against my hair like he could pour everything he couldn’t say directly into me.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed against his chest. “I didn’t want to make things worse. I didn’t want—”

He pulled back, eyes locked on mine. “Stop. You didn’t do this.”

“But I—”

“I said stop.” That edge in his voice, commanding but not cruel, made my knees want to buckle. He saw it, felt it maybe, because his gaze softened by half a degree.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, threading his fingers through mine. “I’ve let this go too long.”

“Az…"

“No arguments, Victoria.” I swallowed hard. There was something final in his voice that had my pulse fluttering.

The walk upstairs to his room was quiet.

Our fingers laced together the whole time in a way that reminded me that he had me.

Az didn’t bother with the lamp when we stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind us, and the soft wash of moonlight spilled across the floor, catching the sharp lines of his jaw and the heat in his eyes.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the edge of his bed; I couldn’t do anything but obey.

He stood in front of me, arms crossed over his chest like he was holding himself back from touching me. Again. His eyes dragged over me slowly—taking in every bit of the wreck I knew I looked like. Still in Craig’s hoodie, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess from the night’s unraveling.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said quietly.

I blinked up at him. “Like what?”

“Small. Shaken. Like you don’t know who the fuck you are.” His voice was sharp, but it didn’t sting. It settled deep instead, curling around something tight in my chest.

“You’re mine,” he said. “You’re ours . You forget that?”

“No,” I whispered. “I just—sometimes I don’t know how to hold it all.”

Az stepped between my knees, dropping his hands to either side of my face.

“You’re not supposed to hold it all,” he said. “Not alone. That’s what we’re for.”

I swallowed, throat tight.

“You think I haven’t been carrying it too?

” he went on, his voice roughening. “Grief. Guilt. Rage. All of it. I’ve been walking around ready to burn this whole fucking city down, but I keep my hands steady for you .

I do my best to stay calm for you . And you think I can’t see that you’re doing the same thing for us ? ”

My lip trembled. Az didn’t flinch.

“You don’t have to be strong right now, Victoria. You don’t have to be anything but mine.” He leaned in, mouth brushing my forehead, my temple, my cheek. The touch was gentle, like he was kissing away every brick of the wall I’d built up inside.

“I know you want control back,” he murmured against my skin. “But you don’t need it here. Not with me. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to explain. You don’t even have to think unless I tell you to.”

My breath hitched.

“You want that?” he asked. “You want me to take it all?”

I looked up at him, and something inside me folded like fresh laundry. Because yes . Yes, I wanted that. I nodded. His eyes darkened, and his thumb dragged slowly along my jaw.

“Use your words, Love.”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Please.”

Something shifted. No, snapped . Whatever restraint Az had been clinging to unraveled between one heartbeat and the next. His gaze hardened, jaw locking into place, and when he stepped back and looked down at me it wasn’t with concern or gentleness. It was with ownership .

“Stand up,” he ordered. I did immediately.

His hands were on me in the next second, not rushing, but with a surety that left no room for hesitation.

He stripped the hoodie and tank top from my body, dragging the fabric up and over my head, baring me to him inch by inch.

My shorts followed. Then my panties. His touch wasn’t rough, but it was decisive, like every inch of skin he exposed belonged to him, and he was reclaiming it.

When I reached for the hem of his shirt without thinking, his hand closed around my wrist.

“I didn’t say you could touch.” I froze, breath caught halfway out of my lungs. He leaned in, voice like heat against my throat. “You don’t get to lead here. You follow .”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, the words spilling out without thought. He released me and stepped back, eyes raking over every part of me, a slight tilt to his head like he was committing the view to memory.

“Now, take off my clothes. Slowly.” My fingers shook as I reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head and revealing the taut, decorated muscle underneath.

His body was tension and control, fire coiled under skin, but he didn’t move a single inch.

He just watched me like he was silently directing every move. And perhaps he was.

I undid the waistband of his joggers and eased them down, along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, thick, hard, already leaking at the tip. But I didn’t let my eyes linger. Not until he gave me permission. When I’d finished, he took a step closer, his voice low and commanding.

“On your knees.” The rug was rough on my skin as I dropped. “Look at me.” I lifted my gaze slowly, my heart thundering. “Open your mouth.”

I parted my lips slightly, breath catching in my throat. Az gripped my chin, tilting my face higher, forcing my eyes to meet his fully.

“Wider.” My jaw stretched under the weight of the order, lips parting further. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just looked at me. His chest rose with a deep inhale, slow and steady like he was trying to memorize everything about the sight before him.

“You have no idea,” Az said, voice rough with want, “how fucking beautiful you are like this.” Heat bloomed low in my belly.

“This,” he said, stepping forward and brushing his fingers down my cheek, “is how I want to see you after every bad day. After every fight. Every time the world tries to take a piece of you.” He slid his thumb into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue.

“You are ours . And I’ll remind you as many times as it takes. ”

He slid his thumb deeper, pressing down until I whimpered, until my eyes fluttered closed from the pressure of his dominance, his claim . Then he withdrew it.

“Show me,” he said, his voice like honey on steel.

“Start slow.” I didn’t hesitate. My hands curled around the backs of his thighs, and I leaned in, my lips parting wider to take the tip of his cock into my mouth.

He was already hot, already leaking, and the salty tang of him coated my tongue as I sucked gently, teasing him just a little.

A low groan vibrated from deep in his chest.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hand sliding through my hair.

“Just like that.” I sank down farther, letting him fill my mouth inch by inch, the stretch of him making my jaw ache in the best way.

He didn’t push. Not yet. He let me set the pace, and I took my time lapping at the base, swallowing him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked.

I loved this. Loved the sounds he made, the way his fingers tightened in my hair, the soft curse under his breath when I pulled back to swirl my tongue around the tip.