Page 190 of Indulge
“I bedazzled a knife, and my lovely brothers like to take the piss out of me.”
Rowan smirks.
“I’m not going to hit you,” I say finally, letting the blade catch the light as I turn it in my hand. “But I am going to make you believe I might. Then again, I never said how good I was at throwing them. Just because Kane tried to teach me doesn’t mean I listened.”
I look at Reggie, who stiffens.
The knife spins once between my fingers before I release it.
It whistles through the air, embedding into the wall a few inches beside Rowan’s head.
He exhales through his nose, a smirk ghosting across his lips.
Good.
I grab the second one.
This time, I let it graze the air near Reggie, close enough to brush his sleeve with wind, then stick into the crossbeam above his shoulder.
Silence.
Only their breathing.
I walk back, trailing my nails over the edge of Rowan’s jaw, then Reggie’s.
“See?” I murmur. “You didn’t even flinch. That’s trust.”
I pause between them, looking up.
“Round two isn’t about winning,” I tell them. “It’s about control and who’s willing to give it.”
Neither speaks.
But the way they look at me—the heat, the restraint, the unspoken promises—tells me everything I need to know.
And for the first time tonight, I think maybe I’m the one being tested.
“Would you let me cut you?” I ask Reggie, running the flat side of the blade along his throat.
“You can speak when I ask a question,” I whisper.
His voice comes low, steady. “Cut me. Brand me. Whatever you want, Princess. I can handle you.”
My heart races. I pull back. His eyes burn into mine—steady, knowing. He’s right. He sees me.
“Would you let me cut you?” he asks quietly.
I tilt my head.
I trust him with my life. “Yes. I trust you.”
He offers me a small smile. “Then cut me.”
I unbutton the first few on his shirt, running my nail along his chest.
He sucks in a breath.
“You’re too pretty to cut, Irish. I don’t need to brand you when I know I’m etched deeper than any blade could.” I press my palm over his heart.
