Page 72 of Property of Legend

“You still feelin’ tough?”he says, loud enough for the room.

He thinks he’ll scare me?

I don’t answer.

I don’t need to.

I ain’t scared.

The scrape of denim, the whisper of leather.He’s not rushing.

“You want the club to see this?”he asks near my ear, like he thinks I’ll fight.Back out.“You want them to know you’re mine?”

I arch back just enough to hiss, “Damn right.”

There’s a beat of silence

He laughs, dark and dangerous, unfastens my jeans the rest of the way, dragging them down just enough to bare me.

“Goddamn,” he mutters.“Ain’t a man alive gonna forget this sight.”

Then the sharp crack of the riding crop cuts through the noise and lands.I wince out of amazement.Not pain.Not really.But a claim.A mark.

The Kings cheer.Whistles, hollers, the stomp of boots.

Legend leans down, voice like smoke in my ear.“You’re not some porcelain doll.You’re wild, Sophie Montgomery.And wild needs to be tamed.”

I shiver, bound and burning from the inside out.

Not broken.

Branded.

His hands holding me down like he thinks I’ll bolt.My cheek presses harder against the pool table felt and my breath turns shallow, adrenaline buzzing under my skin like lightning waiting to strike.

The leather crop snaps again, sharper this time.Not cruel.Not careless.But it steals my breath and replaces it with heat, raw and blinding.

Legend grips my hip like he owns me.

“You still with me, Princess?”

I nod, biting back a moan.“More.”

There’s movement behind me.Boots scraping concrete.

He’s taking his time.

Making a show.

Because this ain’t just for me.It’s for them too.For the Kings.For every bastard in this room who ever doubted I belonged.

“Y’all pay attention,” Legend growls to the room.“This is what happens when a woman’s got enough grit to stand toe-to-toe with the devil.”

Cheers erupt.

I feel their eyes on my bare ass, but I don’t care.Let ’em watch.Let ’em know I’m not just some charity case in silk.

He bends over me, breath hot at the back of my neck.“You look good like this.”

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