Page 203 of Like Grim Death: Part One
“Stop talking, Ella.” He cuts his gaze to Atlas. “Go ahead, make her do anything you want.” Another serpentine smile as he drums his tattooed fingers over his biceps. His blond hair is disheveled, dried kind of wavy from the pool. He looks so beautiful, but frightening too, in white. “I own her, I’ll lease her out to you for tonight, as long as you treat her like a little whore.”
Warmth flushes between my thighs the same way it does across my face, down my chest, up my arms. “Mavy—”
“Shut the fuck up, Ella.”He snaps his gaze to me, some of his calm slipping a little, but he doesn’t raise his voice as his eyes widen. “You let him touch you, however the fuck he wants, or I’ll throw you outtonight.”
I shake my head. “You don’t really want it. You’re drunk.” It’s a lame excuse, because I’m fucked up too, we all are, and since when has that ever mattered to the Unsaints? “You don’t want this.” I say it again anyway, like if I keep repeating it, I’ll dig into the part of Maverick I want tonight. The part that’s possessive and loves me so much it feels like a collar around my neck.
But that piece of him seems gone. His grin only curves higher. “Go ahead, Atlas.” He slowly reaches behind him, one hand dropped by his side. Then he pulls out a gun from the waistband of his pants, his finger on the trigger.
The tension is thick in the room, making it hard to breathe. Atlas’s grip tightens along my skin. I think evenheis nervous now.
“Taste her.”Maverick keeps the gun by his side, but his finger doesn’t leave the trigger. “Pay me back for the night I beat the fuck out of you for touching my little sister, you piece of shit.”
“You’re gonna regret those words.” Atlas speaks calmly, braver than I would be if I were him. He turns to me, dipping his head and inhaling along the column of my throat as Maverick watches. His teeth prick against my neck, and I suck in air.
Mavy only smiles back at me as I stare at him over Atlas’s shoulder.
“You’re going to wish you’d let me knock Brooklin up and raise her baby so I could never put my hands all over your girl.” Atlas pulls back, only to wrap both of his hands around my throat and squeeze.
Spots pop in front of my eyes as I slump further against the wall, my hands flying to his wrists. I try to remember my lessons, how to escape, and I know I should shoot for his face, or knee him in the groin, but my mind is moving slowly and part of me feels like this isn’t real.
This can’t be happening.
But before I can do more than dig my nails into Atlas’s wrists as he smiles at me, Maverick closes the space between us and holds the gun to the crown of Atlas’s head.
“Let go of her and get on your fucking knees.”
Atlas’s grip loosens, but he’s still looking at me when he asks, “You sure you wanna watch this, Mav?”
I glance at the gun, the rectangular top body, the matte black color, Maverick’s inked finger on the trigger. I know he’s in control of himself, usually, but sometimes…he isn’t. My chest heaves between me and Atlas and slowly I bring my gaze back to his.
Maverick laughs a little, a disturbing sound. He hikes up his elbow, the gun against Atlas’s hat. “We’re not negotiating.” He leans in close, his lips caressing over Atlas’s ear.“Get on your fucking knees.”
“Mavy—”
“Shut up, Ella.” He doesn’t look at me.
Atlas raises his hands up then, like in surrender. I watch the muscles in his biceps flex. A smirk hooks his mouth. “I think you should ask her for consent, don’t you?” His voice slithers in the darkness of the room, the red lights pulsating faster as my high climbs.
I stare at Maverick. At his full lips, pressed together. His lean jawline. His throat, moving as he swallows, the ink there rolling too.
He takes a deep breath because I can see his chest expand beneath his white hoodie. For a second, crimson flashes in my brain, imprinting on the fabric. I blink, and it’s clean again.
He taps the gun against Atlas’s head. “Would you do anything for me, pretty girl?” he whispers, not looking at me. “Anything in the world?”
My mind flashes back to Emily Cemetery. On my knees in the chapel. The sting. The fire. Pain like I’ve never known.“Yes.”It’s true. I would.
Maverick’s lips are inches from Atlas’s ear. “That’s her consent.”
A knot forms in my throat, but when Atlas reaches for me, his fingers beneath my shirt, slipping down into the waistband of my jeans, I don’t tell him to stop anymore.
I don’t think I really wanted to. If Maverick got to have Ignis, I can have this.
My stomach muscles jump as Atlas leans in closer. He doesn’t seem at all disturbed by the gun aimed at his head. At Maverick looming behind him.
But my eyes stay on my boyfriend as Atlas grabs between my thighs, then drags his finger over my clit, still not touching me skin-on-skin.
A soft moan leaves my lips, my hands fisted at my sides as I watch Maverick from beneath heavy lids.
