Page 34 of Claimed By Rage

“I can,” he counters, clenching his teeth, “because your dis-fucking-belief supersedes everything else. I’m not lying to you, Celia, I’llneverlie to you. So if I need to shove my cock down your throat so that you’ll listen without interrupting, I fucking will.”

I snap my mouth shut and glare at him.

He actuallysmiles,and it softens his features. There’s a sparkle in his eye and a gentleness to his lips that makes him even more handsome than when he’s acting all macho and possessive. It punches me in the gut so strongly that I have to gasp to catch enough oxygen for my brain to catch up.

“I need you,” he begins again, “because you are fierce. You value life so much that you’ll fight for it, even when it’s not your own, which is fucking insane.” His eyes narrow, but there’s noheat behind it. “Don’t do that again, by the way. No sacrificing yourself for strangers.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the threat of cock-suffocation is enough to keep me silent. When have I ever tried to save a stranger?

He continues, “you have a gentle heart. You don’t like bloodshed. You’re all sappy and in love with love?—”

This partcan’tbe true. I’m a wrecking ball when it comes to love.

“—and it makes me—” Rage shakes his head, his shoulders bouncing with a warm chuckle. “It gives me hope that you could ever love a man as dark and twisted as me. As mybrothers. You may have rejected the bratva, but it runs through your veins stronger than you realize. Otherwise, you would have crumbled by now.” He wedges himself between my thighs and lifts up onto his knees, dropping the bedsheet behind him. The cool night air makes me shiver, but then Rage is pressing his scorching hot erection against my pussy, and I choke as heat engulfs me, spreading from the apex of my thighs to every square inch of my body. He doesn’t thrust, sitting perfectly still as his eyes rake over my naked body.

“You’re still here because you can handle it.” He cups my knees gently, brushing his thumbs over the bruises. “Because as much as you claim otherwise, youwantto be here.” Licking his lips, he draws another breath. “I know that scares you, but think about it. You could have run over to that drawer—” He nods toward his dresser—“and plunged a knife into my heart or a put a bullet in my brain, but you didn’t. Youcould have, but you chose not to.”

I pinch the inside of my cheeks between my teeth, unable to look away from him. The hard planes of his torso aren’t smooth like I had thought; rough patches of mottled skin stripe across his chest and one of his shoulders. I think of the scar on hischeekbone—the tiny, inconsequential indentation—and realize that whatever causedthiscovered a much larger area and took a longer time to heal than what punctured his cheek. I lift my hand and trace one of the streaks with my fingertips, feeling its rough, bumpy texture.

Rage’s abdominal muscles tense as I skirt around his belly button.

It’s easier to focus on Rage’s body than what he’s saying. Part of me knows that he’s right—I could have run over there, grabbed any one of those handguns, and shot him dead. If Ireallyhated him, I would have.

But I didn’t.

And that makes everything more complicated than I’m willing to admit.

“Maybe I should have.” I pinch my lips together, knowing that it’s a shitty thing to say. It’s also another lie, and I shut my eyes to avoid looking at Rage and his gorgeous fucking body. “But that would make a mess.”

“You didn’t let your brother kill me, either.”

“It would have ruined half my inventory.”

He grunts in a noncommittal answer.

I crack open one eye. He’s still staring at me and rubbing these tiny, little circles over my kneecaps. Gently, he says, “you said I could have you.”

My exhale is little more than a puff of exasperation. “You arenothaving sex with me right now?—”

Rage clenches his jaw. “That’s not what I mean.” His hand slides over my knee to the front of my thigh. “When you came toMidnightthe first time, you said that you were ours. That was a promise, Celia, whether you intended it to be or not.”

I purse my lips. “That’s not fair. I was coerced.” I distinctly remember both Rebel and Rage kissing and touching all over my body that night.

“You wanted us then. You still want us now.” Rage reaches over and turns out the light with aclick, shrouding us in darkness. His hand travels higher, tickling my inner thigh. “Stop breaking your promise,krosotka, or I’ll break mine. You won’t leave this bed without my cum buried so deep in your pussy, you’ll reek of it for days.” He pushes my thigh up, bending my knee toward my chest and making me hiss from the ache. “Then when your belly is round and swollen withmychild?—”

My back arches on a moan as he aligns our hips and grinds against my pussy.Fuck.Fuckfuckfuck. Not this again. Any mention of having a child makes my hormones rage. My body throbs hot with need, the mental image of me being pregnant and glowing with happiness cutting deep inside my chest, pouring out of me in a strangled cry.

I want that more than anything.

As Rage rotates his hips, I grind right back, unable to stop myself. Panting, I reach for him, blindly hoping that maybe it won’t be so bad, having Rage as the father. Maybe he’ll be good to me, then, and good to our baby.

Maybe he really means it when he says I’m perfect for him.

He hisses and pulls away, extricating himself from the bed, from my limbs, tearing away any hope that I have.

“—then, you won’t be able to deny that you’remine.”

I’ve pissed him off, but I’m not sure how. He paces the room in the dark for a few minutes before climbing back into the bed, as far away from me as possible. He doesn’t even grab the sheets, leaving them all for me.

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