Page 152 of Reckoning

I put on a simple dress, one I wouldn’t mind getting trashed but one that made me feel like this would truly be a performance.

And with every step I take, I can feel it, his come, dripping, pooling in my panties. My eyes dart to his face. He’s got his fixed ahead with that hard, intense look of his but I swear he’s licking his lips like he can still taste me on them.

Maybe that’s why he was eating me out so purposefully. He wanted a little piece of me too.

Colt is there waiting as we reach the bottom. He glances from Koen, to me, then back to Koen.

“They’re ready.” He says.

Koen grunts.

As we continue on, I remind myself that I’m going to be strong, that I’m not going to let him down. That no matter what it takes, this will end the way I want.

But as we reach that huge, imposing door I feel myself tremble.

“Sofia.”

I shake my head, trying to force back the impending attack.

“Sofia,” Koen growls more.

“I can do this.” I hiss.

He places his hands on my shoulders and that touch, that grip, it seems to pull me out of the spiral.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” He smiles.

I stare back at him, mouth open, convinced that he was about to call this whole thing off, that he was about to pull the same stunt that everyone else does, to treat me like I’m fragile.

Behind us someone clears their throat. I turn, spotting Reid there, arms crossed, openly glaring. So I jerk my chin up, glare back and then push open the doors as if I truly am the queen here, as if I command even Koen himself.

And I swear I hear him growl. I swear I hear him groan the way he does when he’s stripped me down and is about to devour me. Does me being haughty turn him on?

I cast my eye over my shoulder and he’s got his gaze focused solely on me. That look, that fierce, all-consuming look feels like it sets my soul ablaze.

“I can do this.” I whisper. I can do this.

There’s a man hanging in the centre. Just like last time. He’s not making any sounds and as I approach him, I figure he must be unconscious.

Around the perimeter are a dozen of Koen’s, men. Most I know by face but a few I’ve learnt their names. Colt, of course. And Reid. And Collins, and Fabian.

It’s Fabian who hands me the knife. I stare at it, feeling that same repeat of last time. Only, so much has changed. I might still feel my heart hammering, I might still have that panic fluttering, but I’m in control of it and not the other way around.

“Take your time.” Koen says quietly.

I step up to the man, take in a deep breath and then drag it down, from his right shoulder diagonally across his chest to his hip.

He jerks, coming to life with a scream.

His brown eyes connect with mine and that pain and confusion turns to horror as he realises it’s me.

“No,” He splutters. “No, I, no, please, I didn’t mean, I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” I hiss.

Suddenly all that pain is there, all that anger, every moment of fury, of fear, it’s twisting inside me, begging to be let out.

“He said we could. He said you liked it.”

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