Page 24 of Tyrant

“Sit down, cutey,” a member wearing an easy smile says and Tyrant literally growls at everyone in return. They don’t skip a beat at his aggression. The one on the left grins in return while the one across remains silent, watching.

Tyrant plops down on the couch, bringing me with him. He tugs me close enough, I’m tucked into his side with his arm laying across the back of the couch behind me. “Hi, I’m Blair, and I’m pretty pissed you let your friend here kidnap me.” My blunt honesty has all three men grinning, even the one who was staring us down.

“Creed,” the guy to the left nods.

“Rogue,” the cute smiling one says next.

Tyrant gestures, “This is Havoc, he’s our prez. And the rest are prospects.” The guy raises his brows, telling me he’s not putting in effort just yet. I get it, he’s the top dog around here and probably has people trying to butter him up regularly. I’d probably be leery of newcomers if I was him as well.

“They don’t have names? The prospects? Or I should say, the men who stuffed me in a truck and then tossed me in your room.”

He grumbles, “No names you need to remember, and they were acting on my order.”

“He’s the prez, shouldn’t he be giving the orders?”

This makes Havoc smirk, his eyes twinkling with unsaid words. By Tyrant’s grumbling beside me, I’m guessing Havoc doesn’t need to say anything aloud because the broody biker beside me can read him without them.

“Sugar, you need to eat and not worry about my brothers.” He shoots them a look while leaning forward. He grabs a paper plate and starts piling it with food. He hands it to me and I glance around, then at the over-full plate.

“Uh, are you not going to eat?” Why does my voice sound squeaky? Surely, he can’t expect me to eat while everyone is looking at us. I’m not generally a shy person, especially with food, but these dudes are big and intimidating. They’re not like normal men; take a physically fit guy and multiply him, then add about a foot in height and you have only one of these guys. They’re like mountain men, or at least that’s who they remind me of.

“We’re gonna eat, babe. We were waiting on you,” Rogue says, leaning forward to pile his own plate.

“Fuckers, her name’s Blair.”

Havoc chuckles under his breath. “We know, why do you think they’re not using it?” he clarifies and Tyrant quietly sulks at their teasing. It’s entirely too entertaining, and I love it how they must be so close that they don’t hesitate to give the massive man at my side a bit of good-natured grief even if he is super-sized.

The others load their paper plates with a ton of food, but unlike me, I think they’ll actually be able to eat it all. Tyrant leans back, and I have no choice but to tuck back into his side as his presence is so big, he makes my body tip toward him regardless. I was too distracted riding his motorcycle for the first time on our trip to Las Vegas and then toss in the concert withthe sweet way he was acting to realize just how truly tiny I am compared to him. I’m average-sized, I always have been nothing special, but being here, I understand why he says I’m tiny.

He pulls some of the white meat from his fried chicken and instead of eating it, he presses it to my lips. My gaze finds his, my cheeks warm all over again. His serious expression conveys that he expects me to comply and let his big manly fingers into my mouth. I want them there, but not for eating…to suck.

He wants to feed me.

In front of his brothers.

Not willing to cause a scene at being an independent woman and making a point of being capable of feeding myself, I open my mouth, allowing his fingers to slip the juicy meat past my lips. I chew slowly, taking in the flavors and the new boundary I’ve allowed him to cross with me. Should I enjoy it so much? Especially when I was just silently warring with myself over telling him how I’m more than capable of taking care of myself?

He continues, feeding me from his plate, leaving mine untouched. I’m so flustered, turned on, embarrassed, and every other emotion under the sun, I can’t seem to look away from him. His expression is full of desire, his nostrils flair, aptly watching me with every bite and chew. Each time I swallow the food, I swear I see joy in his features. Me allowing him this power pleases him, but is it truly me giving up my power, or is it me taking away his by being cared for first? He continues, bite after bite, until I protest, promising I’m full. Only then does he take my plate from me, placing it on top of his and then quickly eats my cold food.

I’ve never had a man treat me this way. Put my needs above his and in front of the people he’s no doubt closest with. I watch him eat a few bites, then glance at the others, finding them all staring at us. They gape at Tyrant like they’re absolutely stunnedwith what they just witnessed and I can’t help but wonder if it’s the first time they’ve ever observed him feed a woman before.

The last time we were together, Tyrant was sweet, quiet, and protective, but now I’m discovering he’s extremely possessive and the sweetness from before was merely scratching the surface. And if he gave the order for the prospects to take me…

He warned me he was a monster.

I just didn’t believe him, and now I’m trying to figure out if he’s exactly the kind of monster I need to save my daughter.

Chapter 14

Tyrant

Once I know she’s eaten her fill, I can finally relax a little and throw a munch. I hated knowing she was out there somewhere, hungry and possibly in danger. Here I know she’ssafe, fed, and will have everything she’ll need. Blair’s mywife. It’s a label I was confused over before, but having her here, by my side once more, everything has sort of clicked into place. I was already leery about giving her up before and getting the marriage annulled, even though I know it’s what I probably should do.

I’ve never been good at doing what I should, I’ve always been better at doing whatever the fuck I want to and in Blair’s case…I want to keep her. I’ll help her get her kid and then she’ll be mine until either we die or I get sick of her. Whichever comes first, but my gut tells me it’ll be death that finally makes us part and nothing else will suffice. “You good, Sugar?” I lean in, close enough to draw in a breath, taking in her scent. She smells like my soap and fuck if I don’t want to beat on my chest in the middle of the club over it.

This bitch is mine.

She has my last name.

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