Page 118 of Kneeling to Candy

“Touch her and die,” my possessive biker growls in his gravel-pitted voice.

Cú Sidhe hisses through his clenched teeth, looking over his shoulder at Butch with his signature glare. If looks could kill, Butch would be obliterated.

“If you value your life, you’ll release me at once.”

The murderous look in Butch’s eyes tells me he has no intentions of letting him go.

This altercation is putting the captives at further risk. I need to bring my biker to heel.

My reaction is involuntary. I snap my fingers at Butch, grabbing his attention. “Butch, release him.”

My biker’s eyebrows nearly go to his hairline, looking at me like I lost my damn mind. Tank and Ziggy place their hands on their pieces, ready to give aid to their brother. All the while, Piero and his guards watch from the sidelines, making no move to intervene.

It’s up to me to regain control of the situation. I do the one thing I’m certain will bring order. And fuck if I don’t hate myself for abusing my influence on my man.

Putting weight behind my words, I warn Butch. “Don’t make me repeat myself, boy.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CANDY

The room is silent for a moment, the men in shock or awe of me, I’m not sure.

“What the fuck is happening in there?” Atlas growls through the comms, clearly pissed with the direction our mission has taken. “Candy, stand down. We didn’t agree to you playing a bigger role.”

Sorry, Prez. But I need to do this, to save the mission and show Cú Sidhe he has no power over me anymore.

Our undercover crew is putting on a show, but I’m no longer acting. My biker is putting himself and everyone at risk. It’s my job as his partner to remind him of who I am to him and how I’ll do what I must keep to him safe, even if I need to bring him to his knees to get him under control.

My warning tone brings Butch back to the moment, sensing I’m bringing him to heel. He scowls at Cú Sidhe, regretfully releasing him with a shove, pushing him further away from me.

Hooking two of my fingers at Butch, I order him, “Come to me.”

“Holy fuck,” Ziggy mutters in disbelief to himself, his voice picked up over the comms. His eyes swivel between me and Butch, waiting to see if Butch will obey me. He’s the only one who knows the closeted relationship we have. And I’m sure he realizes me forcing Butch into submitting is a potential issue for my biker.

Whether Butch is following my lead for the mission or obeying my command, he comes right to my side as I instructed.

There’s a point to be made to Cú Sidhe. He no longer has control of me. I’m the one with all the control. Butch may resent me later pulling my domme card, but we can always explain our actions away, that we were playing a role to show I was no longer a sub for Cú Sidhe to punish.

Forgive me, Butch.

Holding eye contact with my protective biker, I point to the floor between us. “Kneel.”

There’s a flicker of resistance in his gaze, pausing only a moment before sinking to one knee before me.

Thank fuck he’s listening.

With all eyes on the two of us, I run my fingers over Butch’s cropped hair, down his neck, coming to a rest at his scar.

“So protective,” I muse aloud, my voice nearly a purr of appreciation. When I’m certain I have Butch’s undivided attention, I turn my head to look at Cú Sidhe. “Forgive him. My sub is quick to react with my safety.”

His murky blue eyes snap to mine, widening with surprise. “Sub? He’s your sub?”

Ignoring Cú Sidhe, I pat Butch on the shoulder—my actions towards my biker will speak louder in my dominance than my words. “On your feet.”

Butch obeys. However, he looks too pissed to be done. The veins at Butch’s temples are popping out against his flesh, like he’s preparing to launch himself at Cú Sidhe again. I cup his scruffy cheek, making him focus on me instead. He softens a degree at my touch.

“Behave.”

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