Page 42 of SINS & Lies

And it’s all I can do not to kiss, lick, and worship every last one of them along with the rest of her body.

The one on her thigh is smudged enough that I know she fought—and that she was probably bound when it happened. It’s faded enough that she had to be young. The one I can’t wait to carve from her mind first.

I also want to know who did this to her—whether it’s one man or more—mostly so I can string them up by their balls as I burn their fucking world to the ground, but that can wait.

“Yes,” she replies, raspy as her big doe eyes meet mine. Fear and pain fade behind a storm cloud of want and need.

I let out a slow, smooth breath. “Fine,” I say.

“Fine?” I see the shadows of doubt cross her expression, and know she still needs some convincing.

I step into her space until our bodies are almost touching, my hands safely tucked away in my pockets as my rock hard dick butts against the plane of her stomach. “I’m not about to force myself on you, Kennedy. And the only way you’re getting any part of my dick is if you beg for it.”

Finally, the tiniest smile emerges from her lips.

The curiosity in her big brown eyes and the blush creeping up her skins tell me she’s in, but I need to hear her say it. “Tell me, here and now, you agree. Anything I want. Any way I want it. For the entire week.”

“Anything?” She swallows loudly, and I imagine myself pumping down her throat.

“Anything,” I demand low, brushing my lips against hers, sending a shiver across her body. Then deliberately, I step back, breaking the closeness between us. “Do we have a deal?”

Her staggered breath eases to a sigh as she nods. “Yes, Mr. D’Angelo. We have a deal.”

Fucking finally. I lift her defiant chin, capturing her lips in a possessive kiss before gripping her hair firmly, eliciting a gasp from her. With deliberate force, I brush my lips against the scar she attempted to conceal. “Pack. Now. You have ten minutes.”

Obediently, she nods, and I release her, watching as she hurries into her closet, away and out of sight. And the minute she does, a surge of pain crashes into my skull, intensifying tenfold from its initial hold.

I stumble back. Fuck. I focus on my breath, trying to steady myself.

Retrieving my flask, I sip. If I were into meds—legitimate ones, not the recreational stuff—I’d be floating on cloud nine. But ever since Trinity’s attack and the issues with Smoke, the thought of swallowing a pill churns my stomach.

I rub the back of my neck, silently pleading with the pain gods for relief, when suddenly, the little dog at my feet goes ballistic.

Ruff!

His barking reaches a piercing pitch, and I entertain the idea of tossing him out the window to quiet him down. But I’m pretty sure my little deal with Bella hinges on me not murdering her precious dog, so that’s out.

Like a lunatic, he begins leaping up my leg. I glare down angrily. “Do not hump my leg.”

Ruff! Ruff-ruff!

To silence his incessant yapping and prevent any jizz on my slacks, I scoop the little bastard up.

Instantly, he settles, which is suspicious. Like the little bastard is plotting a sneak attack behind those innocent black eyes.

And just as I start to let my guard down, the dog springs up, his tongue darting over every inch of my face like it’s drenched in steak sauce.

Ugh.

His freaking aardvark tongue gets me right up my nose holes.

Blech. What the fuck, dog?

The mutt nearly slips from my grasp as I stagger backward, narrowly avoiding a collision with the dilapidated remains of what was once a sofa.

“Everything okay?” Kennedy calls out.

No. Everything’s not okay. Fuzzball here cleared all the boogers from my nose, then decided to test my reflexes with an attempted suicide dive from my arms.

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