Page 117 of Crave

I wanted her again.

I hadn’t even left the fucking bed, and my cock still ached for her.

Theo was gone, having had his fill, but I was still here. Still inside her world, still watching the slow rise and fall out her back as she lay against the sheets, her breath steady but shallow. She was spent, her body beyond used, but I knew—I fucking knew—if I touched her again, she’d take it. She’d let me. That mind control still lingered inside her, and while she thought she was fighting it, I knew better.

I curled a hand into the mess of her hair, tugging lightly, forcing her eyes open. She blinked at me, glassy and exhausted.

But I saw it.

That flicker of want.

“You’re not fooling me, Angel.” My voice was raw from using it too much, from growling in her ear, commanding her to break beneath me, watching her obey.

She shivered, pressing her thighs together as though she could hide the need still burning inside her. I smirked, foraging my fingers down to grip her chin, forcing her to look at me, to see the truth she was too afraid to admit.

She was still hungry for more.

“Stay in my bed,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over her lower lip. “Be good. Be mine.”

Her lips parted, her breath hitching, and for a moment, I thought she’d give in again. But then she swallowed, eyes flickering with something darker, something deeper, and that little spark of defiance burned its way back into place.

I fucking loved that about her.

And I’d love even more to break it. Again.

Bzzzt.

My phone vibrated, and I sighed, dragging my hand from her chin as I reached for the device on my nightstand.

Unknown number.

I sat up, tension tightening the back of my neck. My gut never ignored a call like this.

Angelica curled into the sheets behind me, her body nothing but warm temptation, but the second I answered, all of that burned away.

“Silas,” a voice rasped. Kieran. The head of our security team. But his voice wasn’t level—it was raw, panicked.

I tensed. “What?”

He exhaled hard through the receiver. Too hard. “You need to get here. Now.”

I swing my legs off the bed. “Where?”

Silence, then—“Warehouse 14.”

A sharp prickle ran down my spine. That was one of our primary sites, a location no one—not even the fucking cartel knew about.

“What happened?” I snapped, already moving, rising from the bed and grabbed my pants before yanking them on.

Another pause. Then Kieran muttered, voice grim, “We found Sloane.”

My fingers froze at my zipper. I didn’t need to ask if he was alive. I already knew.

Angelica sat up behind me, her voice hoarse. “What’s wrong?”

I shot her a glare, but she didn’t flinch. Not anymore.

I grabbed my shirt, yanking it on before I gritted out, “Stay here.”