Page 74 of His Trick

“I am yours, too, Sunshine.”

Hearing those words from him, while being sucked into the spiral of his kiss, was like…

We belong together.

His lips were all-consuming.

I ignored the blaring horns behind me because I couldn’t pull away. Because just like every fucking time before, I was never able to pull away from Carrington.

He was right.

No matter what I did. No matter how fucking hard I fought the storm slowly consuming me, I was stuck. I didn’t belong to Alexandra Harding.

I belonged to her brother.

The prison gates loomed ahead.Nothing but gray concrete walls and guard towers looming in the sky like fucking spies, reminding me we weren’t alone.

My stomach flipped. “I can’t fucking breathe, Care Bear.”

Carrington’s hand brushed my thigh, sweeping over my dick, and grounding me back to the present.

“Yes, you can,” he said, that same hand moving up my stomach, to my chest, and sliding firmly around my neck.

“The only person taking away your breath is me, Sunshine. Not him. He doesn’t get that fucking honor. In through your nose, out through your delicious fucking mouth, got it?”

I did as he said, sucking in a shaky breath and then forcing it out. My pulse didn’t slow, but I could swallow again…once his grip loosened.

The car rolled to a stop in the visitor’s lot, but neither of us moved.

“Say it,” Carrington ordered suddenly. The barking order made me jump.

I frowned. “Say what?’

“That you’re not going in there as a victim.” His golden eyes locked on mine, unrelenting. “Say it out fucking loud. Now, Sunshine.”

My chest squeezed. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the words stuck in my throat. My lips parted slowly. “I’m not going in there as a…victim.”

“Louder.”

“I’m not a fucking victim,” I repeated, stronger this time.

He nodded once, a sharp, proud motion that had his wild black hair falling forward. “Good. Hold onto that, Shiloh, like you will with my come in your tight little ass later. Because he’s going to try to rip it out of you.”

The visitor’s lot was nearly empty. I opened the door, but my legs felt too heavy, like they were made of the same stone as theprison walls. The rain-soaked ground outside carried the sterile sting of disinfectant, the cold steel of the walls, and the hearts of the inhabitants.

Slam.

Carrington’s car door shutting threw me out of my head and back into my reality. When he came around to my side, it cemented this was real, and…

I was not alone.

He didn’t grab my hand because he knew I couldn’t handle the PDA, but he walked close enough that his shoulder brushed mine every few steps. It was the subtle, possessive reminder I needed.

At the entrance, a guard barked at us like we were no different than the assholes behind bars, “Empty your pockets.”

I fumbled with my wallet and keys, my hands shaking so badly, Carrington had to step in front of me.

“Relax, Baby,” Carrington whispered, leaning in close so only I heard him. He tossed his own things in the bin with a calm efficiency that I envied, then nudged my elbow when I hesitated to do the same. “They’re not the enemy. Don’t waste your firepower on the wrong target.”