Page 67 of King of the Cage

I avoided Bran’s eyes as I tried to bring my bleary gaze into focus.

His thumb ran gently beneath my eye.

“Better?” he mused.

I didn’t know how to answer that. Could any of this get better while those people were out there, doing that kind of initiation to any number of poor women?

“You think that they do that a lot?” I asked, my voice sounding childish and lost. I wasn’t someone who looked for reassurance often, but after tonight, my optimism about the human race had taken a beating.

Bran nodded. “I think doing it even once is enough,” he murmured.

“Were they — how many people were you supposed to offer me to?” I asked, raw; the question kept playing again and again in my head. There had been nearly a hundred masked figures.

Bran shook his head. “Don’t think about it. Don’t let that darkness get a grip in your head. Let’s clean you up and go find your friend.”

He drew back, and I sagged against the counter. Twisting around, I plucked a few tissues out of a box and dabbed at my face. It didn’t make a huge difference.

“You can go. I’ll come out in a second,” I said to Bran.

He stood behind me and raised an eyebrow.

“I need to freshen up,” I added, a blush suddenly heating my cheeks. I wasn’t the blushing type, usually, but I’d never been in this situation before.

Bran leaned a hand on the counter behind me. “That’s right. I made a mess of you earlier, didn’t I?”

I stared in fascination as his hand fell to the hem of my skirt and inched it up.

“It’s only gentlemanly to help clean up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said quickly, fire passing over me in a wave. He tugged my skirt up and bunched it at the waist.

“You think I’m going to miss it?” he asked, his voice a rough murmur. Holding my skirt in a firm grip, he reached his other hand between my legs and stroked over the cum-streaked front of my panties. They were semi-dry, and crusted with his load.

“You smell like me, selkie. I kind of like the idea of you wearing my cum against your cunt all night long. Since I don’t have a ring to give you, I’ll mark you this way.”

“A ring?” That was all I managed to hold onto from his statement.

“Yeah, we’re getting married, remember?” Bran teased.

It was good to see he was back to his insane self.

“Right, how could I forget? Our impending wedding.” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe they fell for that.”

A timid-sounding knock came through the door.

“Giada? Are you there?”

Sol.

I pushed Bran’s hand away and dropped my skirt, fixing it, and strode to the door.

“I’m here!” I announced, wrenching open the door and dragging Sol into a long hug.

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“Nothing,” I said and fought the urge to glance back at Bran. I threaded my arm through hers and tugged her in the direction of the bar.

I felt his eyes on my back like a touch the entire way.

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