Or.
Or he could change his mind. Rewrite his history. Make me his forever.
I need him to do it. I’ll beg him for it. Not because I need to survive this.
Because I can’t imagine a life without him in it.
“Please.” The covers crumple between my fingers. My voice is strained. “Please, James.”
“Not good enough.” His spit trickles down my pussy and he licks it off me. One swipe of his tongue that sends electricitythrough me. “You can do better than that. You will do better than that.”
“Please, I—” I hate him. I’m falling for him. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’ll cry for him. “Touch me. Make me come. Let me stay with you.”
“Not good enough.” He purses his lips, blowing hot air on me. I’m dying. I’m seriously dying. Being edged and teased until my heart stops working. “Do. Better.”
All the need in my body transforms into a ball of rage.
Since he’s stronger, I can’t shove him off me. Can’t force his cock inside me. His lips on me.
But I can hit him where it hurts. My lungs burn. The need for him is making me lightheaded. Still, I snarl. “Topher would’ve never done this to me.”
That earns me a growl as he shoves his thumb deeper, forcefully, no teasing this time.
I’ve gotten to him. He’s finally losing control.
“Topher wouldn’t have the first idea. He’d never know what to do with you.”
His lips are on me. His teeth. James bites and sucks on my clit. Both his hands are on my hips. He’s using my body to fuck his mouth.
Pleasure crashes into me, and I can’t get two breaths in before I come on his tongue.
“Oh God.” This is the most intense, most powerful orgasm of my life.
The teasing, the anticipation. This desire that’s been building up within me. They explode inside me, reaching to the back of my neck, behind my eyes.
“Oh God,” I repeat. I’m saying other things, like James’s name andstopandmoreandplease.
“Topher.” James pulls back, running his tongue along his wet lips. Tasting my orgasm. “You want the truth about Topher, Ophelia?”
He rises to sit on his knees, his hands still firm on my thighs. His cock pushes against his black boxers, hard and terrifying.
James doesn’t do anything about it. Nothing other than glower at me.
He’s composed. Feral. Possessed.
Jealous.
My owner.
“What?” I whisper, trying to come down from this high. From being so lost to him. “Stop hiding things from me. Just stop.”
“After the first time I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I hoped he’d set you free. Wished he would’ve chosen another woman.” He climbs up my body, wrapping a hand around my throat. His thumb strokes my jawline. “One look at you, and I knew. Knew I wanted you. Knew you deserved better. Better than going through the auction, even if I had plans to save you by the end of it. You made me reconsider my plans. I waited for Topher to do it, and he didn’t. Then I gave him another chance. I held onto hope that the look in his eyes would stop reminding me of my father. That he’d come to his senses. He never did.”
I just lie there, shocked. Horrified. Mesmerized.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He lowers his voice. “I might’ve been brought up on violence, but I’ve only murdered one man. A man who should’ve never been alive in the first place. Topher, on the other hand, would torture you for fun. He begged me to do it. He’s as bad as the rest of them.”
Them? Who is them? Oliver and his son?