Page 10 of Under Fyre

Charlotte screams, turns, and bolts down the hallway.

I toss the plate and chase, bellowing, “Arrow, stay!”

Since I was blocking her path to the front door, Charlotte has no choice but to run deeper into my house. But she must realize that there’s no escape through my bedroom, because she turns off down a side passage.

No.No! It’s too soon!

Gritting my teeth, I sprint after her. Going too fast, I rebound from the wall with my hands, and barely reach her in time before she turns the handle to the only door down this hall.

I crash into her, driving us both to the floor.

She lets out a sharp gasp, but then she’s screaming at the top of her lungs.

I clap a hand over her mouth, and she bites my fingers.

With a muffled curse, I collapse on top of her, pinning her with my weight.

But even then, she struggles.

Even then, she fights.

Her movements are frantic. Her head whips back and forth as she tries to shake my hand free. I’m cupping it now so she can’t reach my fingers, and I pinch her nose closed too, cutting off her air.

She starts beating me with her fists, and strikes a lucky blow to my chin.

I see stars, momentarily lose my grip.

She wriggles out from under me. Jumps over my body. Races down the hall.

I sit up, shake my head. I taste tin in my mouth, and when I bring fingers to my lips, I find blood where she managed to split open my lip.

Her bare feet slap on the wooden floors, but a second later she stops.

I don’t rush. There’s no need. I trained Arrow well.

When I come around the corner, Charlotte is retreating. Arrow stands further down the hall, her shoulders down, her hackles up, her canines on full display as she growls low and fierce at our guest.

Hands raised, her body trembling, Charlotte whispers, “Good dog,” over and over again.

I wait where I am, pressing a thumb to my stinging lip.

She backs up right into me, and then I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight.

“P-Please, Gideon,” she murmurs, grabbing onto my arm. “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t report you. Just let me go and I’ll never—”

“Did this pathetic begging work on Peter Monroe?”

She cuts off with a whimper.

“Didhelet you go?”

She shakes her head, starts blubbering. In the face of her weakness, my reserve hardens.

As does my cock.

I move my hand down, flatten it against her belly, use that force to drive her against my erection.

She squirms, lets out a sob.

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