Page 42 of In Shadows We Dance

“Wren …” Her voice is shaky, but I catch the need buried beneath the fear.

I move behind her, press my dick against her ass. “I like the way you say my name. What do you want?”

She doesn’t answer, and that’s enough. My fingers dip under the lace of her bra, finding her bare skin. Her gasp is soft, her back arching involuntarily as I tease her nipple, rolling it between my fingers.

“You’re perfect.” My voice is rough with desire. “The way you respond to me. It’s fucking intoxicating.”

Monty shifts at the edge of my awareness, and my gaze snaps up, catching the way he’s watching where my fingers are toyingwith her nipple.

“She’s not yours. Don’t forget that.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, but the hunger in his gaze is clear. It only fuels my possessiveness, my need to mark her as mine, to remind her and everyone else exactly who she belongs to.

My fingers rub a slow circle over her pussy, and she whimpers, shrinking back. I don’t push her. I don’t need to. I’ll get what I want, and the wait will be worth it. Instead I take the hem of her shirt between my fingers and slowly pull it higher, exposing the skin of her stomach and ribs.

Her breath comes in short, ragged bursts as I uncover her bra, the delicate lace doing little to conceal the curves beneath. I let my fingers brush the edge of the material, teasing her, feeling the way her body tenses. My other hand hooks into her bra, and I pull it up, baring her completely.

Her gasp is strangled, almost a sob, and her hands move to cover herself.

“Don’t you dare hide. You belong to me now. Every. Inch. Of. You.” I tilt my head toward my friends. “Doesn’t it excite you? Knowing they can’t touch what’s mine. They can only look.”

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red.

“Your nipples are so hard. Begging to be sucked, to be bitten, to be marked.” I pinch one, making her gasp again, and reach into my pocket for my phone. I need to photograph her, capture her responses, the need she’s fighting to deny.

“This is just the beginning,” I whisper against her throat. My lips find the soft skin just beneath her jaw, the spot where her pulse pounds hardest. I press a kiss there, slow and gentle, before sucking hard, marking her. When I pull back to admire my handiwork, a dark bruise is forming on her skin, my second visible claim that makes my dick harden more.

“Now everyone will know. Every time they look at you, they’ll see this and know exactly who you belong to.”

Monty clears his throat, and I shoot him a warning glance, daring him to say anything. He smirks, but doesn’t move closer.

“Time to go.” I release her, and tug her shirt back down. “But don’t think this is over.”

I raise my phone, capturing her confusion. Every photograph is a trophy, a testament to how I’ve shattered her invisibility.

“Did you enjoy our little game?”

She shakes her head, eyes flicking to where Monty and Nico stand.

Click.She flinches, pupils dilating. Each reaction ignites something darker in me, a need to claim, to own every part of her she won’t admit.

Click.Another photograph—this one capturing how she tilts her head, baring her neck just a little more. It’s almost enough to make me forget the plan and take her right here. Almost.

I pocket my phone. I need both hands for this.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and something flares in them—defiance maybe, or desire. Probably both. The combination drives me to push, to press until she admits what we both know. I thread my fingers into her hair, gripping tight enough to hold her still.

"Still trying to deny it?" I press my thumb to her lower lip, feeling the tremor under my touch. "Let's test that theory."

When I kiss her, it's not gentle. It'spossession. She makes a small sound against my mouth—protest or pleasure, it doesn't matter, and her hands come up to push against my chest. I catch them, pinning them between us as I deepen the kiss. The taste of her fear mingles with something sweeter, something she's trying desperately to deny.

This is what I’ve been waiting for. That moment she understands: there’s no running from what’s between us. I bite her lip, and her gasp lets me explore deeper. She tastes of adrenaline and surrender, exactly what I’ve craved.

When I pull back, her lips are swollen, her breathing ragged. I raise my phone one last time, capturing her kiss-bruised mouth, her unfocused eyes, the way she leans toward me, then stops.

Click.

"Perfect." I study the image, satisfaction coursing through me. "Now everyone will see exactly what you've been hiding."

---