Page 124 of Endgame

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And yet.

It’s like she’s a separate appendage, not one of them.

For the first time in years, doubts begin to infiltrate my thoughts. They’re polluting my mind.

I could swipe them away. I could.

I do.

I’m never wrong. Not about them. Not about her.

They’re guilty. I goddamn hate them.

I can’t breathe while they’re on this planet, living their consequence-free life.

Then again…

Over the last few days, I’ve realized one thing. Hating Aurora and wanting to fuck her aren’t mutually exclusive.

I have to resent her. Idoresent her.

But fuck, I need her, and I’m going to get her.

22

EVERETT

“Hands and knees.” The boredom in my voice is an act. Aurora has no idea.

My blood’s been thick with desire since the ride home, my heart is pounding in my chest.

I can’t stop admiring her.

She’s gorgeous. Fresh out of the shower, her skin smooth. The collar is back around her neck. Rylee or Elena must’ve put it there, and goddammit, I’m jealous.

Jealous of the collar. Of them for touching her.

I don’t let it show either, as I take in the rest of her.

Her hair falls like a curtain over her chest, thick locks spilling across the swell of her breasts. Her hair and her black silk nightgown are hiding her hardened nipples from me.

Un-fucking-acceptable.

My pulse hits my fingertips, begging me to brush those strands aside, to tear her nightgown down the middle.

Desperation clings to me. My control slips.

I want her nipples in my mouth. Want to mark her breasts until she’s black and blue, until her tears spill onto my tongue as I ruin her.

There’ll be time for that.

At the present moment, I’m hard as I envision torturing her.

By making my boredom believable.

It’s real enough to send a shiver rippling through her.

Her breathing quickens, pupils dilate.

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