Page 125 of Kneeling to Candy

Candy clings to my arms, trembling violently.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” I say in as soothing a voice as I can muster, given the situation. Inside, I’m violently fuming. About a million scenarios run through my head all at once, each one involving me killing the sonofabitch in some agonizing way.

The fuckers who raped my woman are here, and the worst one of all has eyes on her again. Finn O’Conall didn’t need to say he’s interested in Candy. His body language and possessive stares spoke volumes enough. When he advanced on her, my emotions had me reacting aggressively. I was right to step in when he got too close to her. It’s my job as Candy’s bodyguard not to let anyone I see as a threat near her. But my overreaction showed my interest in Candy more than I should’ve allowed O’Conall to witness.

I presented O’Conall with a challenge, making him want Candy all the more.

Candy had no choice but to react the way she did, putting me in my place while showing the devious bastard he no longer had power over her. Her reaction happened quickly. There was no time to feel ashamed of my actions as my brothers watched or listened to me submit. My woman did what she needed to do to take control of the situation, and I couldn’t be prouder of her for coming into herself.

It’s almost a certainty Candy pissed O’Conall off as much as she surprised him with her domme self. The way he leered at her before leaving the suite is confirmation he wants her back.

If O’Conall approaches her again, he’s dead. No hesitation. No excuses. I will gut him from crotch to throat like the pig he is.

Thoughts of murder threaten to take over my sanity. It would take nothing to creep behind him, snapping his neck or cutting his carotid artery. Quick and easy. Although it won’t be as satisfying as it would be to drag out his death. Slow and painful sounds awfully tempting, making him beg for mercy.

My pulse is pounding in my ears with how irate I am. I need to get ahold of my temper.

Seeing Candy panicking is the only thing keeping me focused on this mission. She needs me, as does my team. I keep encouraging Candy to do her breathing exercises as I run my hand up and down her back to soothe her. She leans into my touch, needing me as much as I need to be with her.

“Candy, speak to us,” Atlas orders through the comms, his deep voice laced with concern. “Do you need out? There may not be another opportunity to leave after the auction starts.”

“Not sure if it’s an option anymore,” Piero interjects. “O’Conall got his eye on Candy. If we move her now, he’ll pursue her. Besides, after the performance she gave, Duffy and O’Conall will think something is up. A domme doesn’t retreat when threatened.”

Gauge chimes in, his comms crackling. “If Candy is uncomfortable, she leaves. Period.”

The new knowledge of Cú Sidhe involvement with this operation makes every fiber of my being want to yank Candy out of this operation. However, I know better than to make the call on my woman’s behalf.

“What do you want to do, sweetness? Do you want out?”

Candy shakes her head with a violent jerk. “No, I’m staying. I’ll be fine.”

“Pretty smooth improvising for being under pressure. Over,” Chase compliments through the comms.

“Credit my years of experience dealing with those two assholes,” Candy drawls sarcastically.

Gently taking my woman’s face in my hands, I ask, “Are you sure? You’ve done your part. You got us here.”

“And I’ll stick with it to the end,” Candy vows, her tone firm, with no wiggle room for argument.

Knowing better than questioning her twice, I nod my understanding. Besides, as much as I want Candy away from this place and the vile men inside its walls, keeping her close to me is safer, considering O’Conall is lurking nearby.

While Piero talks to his guards on what to expect during the auction, Tank paces the room, and Ziggy watches the two of us with a troubled crease between his fair brows.

Candy looks around us, like she’s checking to see who is paying attention to us. Once she sees everyone is preoccupied—everyone aside from Ziggy, who continues to watch us with concern—Candy grips the lapels of my suit. Her eyes are red with unshed tears as she says, “I’m sorry.”

Not understanding what she’s sorry for, I frown. Candy must see my reaction as a negative. A little V forms between her eyebrows as she announces, “Atlas, I need a word with Butch. Privately.”

“Make it quick and stick to the suite. Over.”

Permission granted, Candy yanks out her earpiece and motions for me to do the same. We set them down and move away to the corner of the room for some privacy, or as much privacy as we can have in the small quarters. My woman looks anxious, rolling her shoulders like she’s working up the nerve to tell me something unpleasant.

“Talk to me, Goddess.” I run my hands up and down her arms, trying to relax her.

“I didn’t want to out you.” Candy rushes to explain herself in a whispered voice. “When you restrained O’Conall, I was worried our mission could be jeopardized. I couldn’t allow it. I acted in the way I knew would get you to comply.”

Worked like a charm, too. I stepped out of line when I got overly aggressive with O’Conall. Restraining him was one thing. But I yanked the bastard’s arms up high behind his back to give him extra discomfort. Candy ordering me to my knees snapped me out of my predatory mindset real fast.

Her rich brown eyes swim with moisture, giving me a beseeching look. “Please, don’t hate me.”

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