Page 170 of Rage

I placed my hand on O’Malley’s shoulders, standing on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. A closed-lip kiss on the mouth, as caste and sweet as though we had done this a million times before. The sound of Feldon’s screams just heightened the sweetness of it.

But if I let him have his way, he’d own me. And I refused to be owned by anyone.

I might have rented him my body for these docks, but that was done now.

We stood on even ground.

“Let him go,” I whispered.

“Are you sure?” O’Malley’s eyes looked pained, as he stared at me. Offended on my behalf.

“Yes,” I said, with condescending clarity to make sure he understood every single sound of those three letters. “Let. Him. Go.”

O’Malley was suspicious of my intentions, but stepped aside. He pulled a knife from his sheath, and walked behind Feldon, cutting his hands and feet free. He didn’t bother with the duct tape.

Feldon, terrified of his new luck, came to his unsteady feet, swatting the flames and paper off of him. He walked around me, giving me a wide berth as he stared at me like I was a coiled serpent.

I hissed at him, baring my teeth before laughing as he stumbled, fell, then half-crawled away.

“He’s going to try to harm you, now,” O’Malley put his knife away and came to his feet. “We protect our allies as best we can but you must know, the Lauders aren’t without power.”

I smirked.

“It’s time the west understood the Barkadas,” I said, stepping towards him, my heels clicking on the cement ground. “We stand on our own.”

I reached up and placed my fingers around his lapels, gliding up and down the soft, expensive fabric.

His brilliant eyes looked down at me, his lips pulled down in a frown.

“There’s no better way to make an impression than by placing your boot on your enemy’s neck.” I pulled at the long strand of his navy blue tie. “We do not ride on anyone’s coattails, Mr. O’Malley. And you rob me of a good kill.”

This was the art of me Feldon never knew. This was the part I kept beneath the layers of fine clothes, and the civility my brother, Jareth, taught me.

O’Malley’s nostrils flared, his hand grasped at my waist, pulling me to him until our bodies pressed together. I felt hishard abs, strong thighs, and the pulsing cock throbbing against the back of his zipper.

He was aroused by the vicious side of me. That was… very interesting.

His eyes were molten with desire, as he leaned down, his lips just a hair’s breadth from mine.

He smiled as if I had given him a gift, as he whispered, “Happy hunting.”

---