Page 96 of Pretty Little Threats

“Remy, don’t make me regret trusting you,” I grind out, trying to keep my cool, because Remy is important to me. Rose’s eyebrows pinch together, but then a man grabs her hand and drags her toward the dance floor. She stumbles in her heels and subtly tries to yank out of his grasp.

If I thought I knew rage before, I was wrong. My vision tunnels, and I’m up and out of my chair in an instant, storming toward the man who dared to put his hands on Rose. When Remy follows me, I shoot him a venomous look, but he stubbornly tilts his chin. Sometimes I hate that he’s not afraid of me.

Focusing on Rose and the way her face is scrunched and how she leans away from the guy who’s groping her ass, I let the full breadth of my darkness take hold. I’m going to break both of his hands and then possibly his cock.

Rose’s frantic gaze searches the crowd, but everyone is too wrapped up or drunk to notice. Her eyes find mine, and the relief that floods over her is instant. A deeper sense of possessiveness fuels my steps. My wife needs me.

Remy pulls up beside me.

“I want to deal with him later.”

Remy eyes me. “Dare.”

I don’t miss the warning. It’s reckless to hurt a civilian,but I don’t give a fuck. “Remy. Take him to the factory.” A heavy breath is all I get in response.

The guy squeezes one of her tits, and Rose struggles in his hold again, shoving at his chest, but he’s stronger than she is.

Mother. Fucker.

Remy reaches the guy first, dragging him away from Rose and out of the crowd. There are a few murmurs of discontent, but I ignore them all, stopping before the bane of my existence. That’s not so true anymore, though.

Those hazel eyes drill into me, a thousand questions, a hundred reasons why this is wrong. A dozen warning bells telling me Remy was right. But one thought is louder than all the rest—no one touches her but me. Rose is wholly mine. Body, soul, anger, happiness, her heart. They’re all mine. I let her see exactly how much I want her. I take down every wall, unleash every wicked desire, every violent urge, and show her every part of the man she calls beast.

The crowd is quick to forget the drama, already swaying and moving to the steady beat of the music twining around us. The thumping bass thrums along my skin. Rose and I are still suspended in the moments between how it is and how it should be. The weight of the choice hanging in the air bears down on me. She takes a breath, chest rising as she holds my gaze. Unflinching. Unyielding. Strong. Defiant.

Mine.

I hold up my hand, much like I did the day in her dad’s office, only this time, it’s more than me saving her from her dad; it’s me making a real vow. I don’t hate Rose anymore. Truth be told, I haven’t for weeks, and now she’s finally realizing that I’m not her enemy. Rose looks at my hand,then slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine. I arch one eyebrow, daring her like I have so many times before.

But tonight, the heaviness of our future weighs on her decision.

If she joins me, we face the world as one.

If she rejects me, well, I don’t want to think about that.

Before she can hide it, I see the twitch of her lips, the softening of features, the submission, then her palm slips over mine. Pride beats at my chest, heat floods through my veins, and the beast inside me roars in triumph.

I lock my fingers with hers and drag her toward me. “That’s my good wife.” I seal my lips over hers and steal her gasp of surprise. Placing my free hand on her lower back, I press her body against mine, and she instantly softens. A relenting that hardens my cock and makes me want to rip her skintight dress right off her body.

“Dare,” she murmurs into my mouth.

My fingers flex on her back.

Someone bumps into me, jostling us and breaking whatever spell had weaved around us. The rest of the world roars to life. There’s a mumbled apology. Someone whoops nearby as the song switches. The music is so loud. There are too many people on the dance floor. There’s too much noise.

Breaking the kiss, I rest my forehead on hers. “I hate this party,” I admit.

“Thank god,” she murmurs, stealing a quick kiss. “Take me home.”

As soon as we’re through the front door, Rose flings herself at me. I catch her lips, wrapping my armsaround her and kissing her back just as fiercely. My hand drifts between our bodies. That fucking dress is in the way. Backing her toward the foyer table, I thread my hands into her hair and tilt her head until I can savor every inch of her mouth.

Nothing has ever tasted sweeter than Rose relinquishing control, leaving me in charge of her fate.

Her ass hits the edge of the table. I break the kiss and drop to my knees to grab the switchblade that’s sheathed on the back leg of the table.

“Really?” Rose asks with an amused shake of her head.

I glance up at her and flick it open. There are weapons hidden all over the house in case I need them. “Really.” Grabbing the bottom of her dress, I stab the blade into the material and smirk at the sound of her sucking in a quick breath. “I’ll buy you another.”

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