Page 102 of Sweet Animosity

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. It’s far too late for that, baby girl.”

I pushed a second finger into her. “Then there are the various mafia syndicates who are actively searching for you.” My two fingers thrust in and out of her tight passage. “There are the Chinese. The mystery other Russian outfit. The Syrians. The Italians. The Irish. The list goes on. You’ve made a great deal of very dangerous people very angry.”

I added a third finger.

She whimpered and squirmed under my grasp.

My hand twisted in a circle. “You know what happens to you if they learn your identity?”

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye. “Please. Stop.”

I forced a fourth finger inside of her.

She yelped as her body bucked.

Breaking one hand free of my grasp, she wrapped her slim fingers around my wrist in a futile attempt to dislodge my hand.

“Pretty pleading with those gorgeous green eyes won’t work with them. You are not a person, you’re a commodity.”

Even less than that.

Fuck, I hated this. I hated doing this to her. Scaring her. But she needed to understand. There was no blissfully going back to her old life. She was in my world now, and in my world was where she would stay. And there was no surviving in my world without my protection.

At least, that was what I needed her to believe.

It was not like it wasn’t the truth. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

The whole truth was that there wasn’t a power on this earth who was going to rip her from my arms. If she had died tonight, I was absolutely certain I would have traveled to hell to tear her from Hades’ greedy grasp with my bare hands.

There was a vivacious energy emanating from her that had become like manna to my soul. Even the possibility of not having her in my life was untenable. I didn’t give a fucking damn that I had known her for only a few days. A person only needed to glance at the sun for a moment to appreciate its light and warmth. Or only needed one look at a glowing moon at midnight to cherish its serene beauty and mystery.

Vivian was the type of woman a man never forgot or fully got over.

Like her perfume after she left a room, the impression of her lingered on a man’s soul.

As if her inner fire and passion had branded them.

I was sure there were men from her past, old high school boyfriends, who still secretly wondered what if…

What if they hadn’t fucked up?

What if they had been the man she needed at the time?

What if they hadn’t been selfish and immature?

What if she was still in their life?

I’d gotten a glimpse of a darker what if tonight…

What if I hadn’t gotten there in time?

What if she had died?

What if one of the syndicates had learned of her identity and gotten their hands on her?

What if I wasn’t able to find her in time before they tortured her mind and body beyond repair?

What if…

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