Page 42 of Fierce Pursuit

It would have to do.

I grabbed a T-shirt she had left lying around, soaked it in the alcohol, and pressed it against my skin.

First to my forehead. Then the base of my skull. The sting was immediate, cutting through the lingering fog of the fall, the bludgeonings, the jet lag.

And the ache she had left in my fucking cock.

She had made a mistake.

She didn’t even realize it.

By hitting me on the back of the head, she had given me something invaluable—a few minutes of sleep. Probably just enough for a single REM cycle, but that was all I needed.

And now?

Now, I was awake.

I was clear.

And I was coming for her.

This wasn’t just about saving her from Solovyov anymore.

This was about keeping her.

After I punished her for her insolence.

My fucking God, I was going to enjoy that punishment.

The belt might be too easy for her. Thoughts of forcing my cock inside her tight ass while I made her scream her apology crossed my mind.

“So did you need help with?—”

“No.” I cut Mac off, my voice sharp as I adjusted mytrousers which had become uncomfortable with my growing cock. “I don’t need help. But I do need a gun.”

I held out my hand.

Var and Anton exchanged a look. Then, with a nod, Anton pulled a Glock from the holster hidden beneath his jacket and handed it to me.

I checked the magazine. It was fully loaded.

“Seriously, friend, it’s not a big deal if you want us to go pick her?—”

My head turned sharply. “No one else is going to touch her.”

Their amusement evaporated.

“She is mine.”

I let that sink in before continuing, my voice low, dangerous. “Get the word out. No one lays a single fucking finger on her. No one apprehends her. If they see her, they contact me. Immediately.”

I looked between them, my grip tightening on the gun.

“Anyone who disobeys that order answers to me.”

Silence.

Then, “What are you going to do with her?” Var asked carefully.

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