Page 36 of Under His Protection

My mind races, a desperate search for a lifeline. I have an idea. It might be a long shot, but it’s my only chance.

“Wh-what about Alexander?” I stutter, my voice trembling. “Doesn’t he get to watch?”

Come on, Ava. Play his game.

Dexter, momentarily broken from his trance, looks at me, his brow furrowed. “What?” he says, tilting his head, a mixture of confusion and annoyance in his eyes.

“You said you wanted to make him suffer,” I say, my voice steady, but my stomach twists and turns. I lick my lips, pushing my breasts forward, meeting his gaze with a defiant challenge. “There’s nothing more torturous than seeing us together, Dexter. You and me. Like it was always meant to be. I’ll be your fuck-girl. You get your revenge.”

A low growl rumbles from his throat, and I feel him hardening against me. “Shit, yeah,” he moans, his voice rough. “You’re right.”

He’s turned on by this, the danger, the power play. I can use this against him. I tickle his inner thigh with my foot, a gentle, teasing touch. He moans again, harder this time, his body pressing against mine. “Oh, fuck yes, Ava,” he says, his voice rough. His hand reaches for my leg, his fingers tracing the line of my knickers.

All I want to do is punch his face, grab his gun, and shoot him. But I’m playing the game.

“Alexander?” I ask, drawing out the name, my voice a soft purr. His trance is shattered. “And what about the Raven?” I ask, my voice innocent, my gaze meeting his. “Does he get to watch you toy with me, too?” I spread my legs invitingly.

The men shift, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons. The glint of the guns makes me shiver. His eyes narrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. I’m playing a dangerous game, but I have no other choice.

“What do you know about the Raven?” Dexter asks, lowering the knife he’s been pressing against my inner thigh.

Not enough.

“I know you don’t like him, neither does Alexander,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “Nor I.”

“To hell with them both,” Dexter snarls, his anger a wave crashing over me. “Fuck you all.”

So Dexter doesn’t like the Raven?

He throws back his head and laughs, a harsh, grating sound that grates on my nerves. "I don't want to hear about them. Especially Alexander. I'll fuck you again once my men get him here. Your dear Alexander," he mocks, the words dripping with venom. "You know, he's not gonna save you now. Just like he left you four years ago, he'll leave you again. You'll see."

A slow burn ignites in my chest, a fire that starts as a dull ache and grows with each mocking word. My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms. "He didn't leave me," I say, my voice tight with a simmering fury. "You forced him to leave. You drove him away."

Dexter chuckles, a chilling sound. “I didn’t make him leave. I would love to take credit for that—I enjoy seeing Alexander suffer. But that was all the Raven. He drove him out, threatening to kill Michelle if Alexander didn’t stick with Kovacs and me, doing his dirty bidding.”

So that’s why Alexander left. I take a step back, my mind reeling.

What was the Raven’s beef with Alexander? What had he done to piss him off so much that he would threaten to kill his sister? It doesn’t make any sense.

I gasp, my mind reeling. “The Raven was behind it all?” I whisper. No one answers me.

It all clicks into place. Dexter hates the Raven, and the feeling is mutual. That's why he came back, trying to seize control of Veles again. The disappearances, the murders of Irina and Boris—likely people loyal to the Raven. People vanishing, silenced, and replaced with loyalists. Now, the Raven is enraged. They're locked in a silent war, and I'm a pawn in their deadly game.

Dexter leans in closer, his eyes burning into me, a cruel amusement playing on his lips. He’s enjoying this. The power he holds over me, the fear I can’t disguise.

“But you think you know everything, sweet little Ava,” he says, his voice a purr. “Just because you’ve got a crush on a criminal?”

He runs his finger along the edge of my knickers, a light touch that makes me shiver. My breath becomes ragged as he pushes his finger against my clit, the touch sending a jolt through me. I instinctively close my legs, but two of the men push them open. I can’t look away. I’m trapped, frozen, unable to move.

He lingers, his finger pressing against my sensitive flesh, a cruel tease. His touch makes makes my skin crawl. I’m ready to scream. I’m prepared to fight. But he’s not done. He inserts his finger deep inside of me and lets out a heavy sigh. He twists his fingers in rough motions, making me squirm.

“Fuck, yes, Dexter. Make her come,” one of the men says.

Instead, Dexter retracts his fingers, pushes them into his mouth, and closes his eyes, savoring the wetness of my inside on his lips.

“Fuckin’ tasty, Ava,” he whispers, his gaze locking onto mine. I try to look away, but one of the men grabs my cheeks, forcing my gaze back onto Dexter.

“You’ll watch him enjoy you,” the man says with a cruel smirk. “You should be thankful. Most girls don’t get this kind of attention in here.”

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