Page 86 of Only for Him

Nothing moves.

This room is meant for two things: pleasure and containment.

No one leaves until the house says so.

Giselle sits on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed. The earrings I gave her swing every time she tilts her head, glinting in the low light like they’re winking at me. That black slip dress tries and fails to hide how perfect she is.

When she opened the door for me, I fought an impulse to fist the fabric at the hem, ruck it up over her hips and stain it with cum.

That feels like it was long ago, now. But the echo remains, heat climbing the back of my throat. It’s wrong, in this room, but I’ve never pretended to be anythingbutwrong.

I should look away. I don’t. My cock stirs, thickening before I even realize it.

It’s the bite.

She bit me. She trembled and rocked her body against me, and she left her mark.

I’ve been walking around half-hard ever since.

The bruise has bloomed on my palm, her teeth marks indented in the flesh. I feel it all the time. A reminder of how perfectly she fits between my pain and my pleasure.

What did she think she was doing, exactly?

Did she think that she was getting back at me?

Because she certainly failed at that.

She just gave me more ammunition to use in the future.

The future,which has become a dreadfully excitingthing ever since my little viper walked into it.

She senses the heat in me now. Of course she does.

“You’re staring,” she says. “How can you be turned on when we just watched a girl besold?”

She has a point. But desire doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t wait for the right moment.

Still, this is the part of my job that I can’t half-ass. One slip and the wrong people die

My life? Whatever. I don’t give a shit about it.

But the woman on the bed? The one I might wind up having to kill if she does what Rosa says she’ll do?

I can’t think about that now, but I do know she can’t die tonight.

And the girl they’re about to drag in? She’s the whole fucking point. Focus on that.

“I’m thinking,” I reply. “Big difference.”

“Yeah? About what?” I can’t help but smirk. She’s beautiful when she’s angry. I noticed that pretty much right away.

Thank God she’s angryveryoften.

“About how the next few minutes could go very well, or very badly, depending on what happens when they bring her in.”

She nods, but doesn’t look away. “Fifteen years of this?”

She already knows my answer.