Page 119 of On Edge

“I’m not taking your virginity, Sage.” It comes out harsher than I intend.

Her voice falters. “W-why not? What’s the difference? We’re getting married in two days.”

“A fake marriage,” I grit out. Then I stalk out of the kitchen before I change my mind, ignoring how my cock feels like it’s about to snap, how blue my balls are becoming these days.

I don’t look back at her on the counter, disheveled and confused. If I do, I’ll take her just because I can. And I can’t be the man who ruins her just because I need something, anything, to fill the damn void.

26

SAGE

I’m shaking and shivering where he left me. I never knew I could feel so used, and yet remain a virgin at the same time. Every part of me is on fire. Every nerve is rubbed raw. I want to lie there and not move, but inside my mind is screaming at me to get up.

Kathy, or worse, Mundel, could walk in at any minute.

It takes me a few minutes to compose myself and redress. Then I wander through the house looking for him.

Not that I want to find him.

But I have thirty minutes tops before he passes out. In that moment, his mouth was between my legs, his breath on my thighs, and I told him not to stop….

I was quickly adding the crushed migraine pills to his wine.

Now, I’m going straight to Hell.

But first, I need to get that key.

I check the sitting room, the billiard room, and the library, but they’re all empty, not even a fire lit. For once, I’m entirely alone. Ben is skulking in the shadows, back to stalking me.

Where would he go?

“Where’s Troy, hey?” I ask Ben. He cocks his head at me, but doesn’t budge. Maybe I watched Lassie too many times as a kid, but I expected him to run off and show me the way.

Then I feel it rather than hear it, heavy metal music thumping like it’s in the walls. I follow the sound to his secret office. The bookshelf door looks shut, but a line of light spills through the crack, telling me it’s only closed over.

Ben lies down outside like he’s probably done a thousand times before, watching me with knowing eyes. His master is in there.

“Good boy,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I pull the door open.

The music hits me like a wall of guitars screaming, drums pounding, like a headache come to life.

And there he is.

Troy is laid back in his leather chair behind his desk, one hand dangling over the armrest, loosely gripping his wine glass. The wine inside catches the lamplight, looking like it’s stained with blood. His eyes are half-closed, head resting against the leather, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks almost...

Human.

The moment I enter, he’s suddenly alert, but his reflexes are slower. He doesn’t move in that coiled-spring way of his.

“Sage.” His voice is rough over the music. “What are you doing here?”

Heart pounding, I force myself to move inside and close the door. “I heard the music. Are you…okay?” I ask, keeping my voice steady but raised. The music is still blaring. I look around for the speaker control panel and spy it on the wall next to the door.

I lower the volume and then turn around.

There’s a sneer on his lips when I face him again. He’s sitting up, placing his glass on the desk, the movement less controlled than usual. “Worried, after you tried to poison me?”

The air leaves my lungs as I turn around. “I…”