Page 49 of Wicked Pursuit

“Fuck.” Rick has gone tense. He’s seen Casimir. He releases me and rises swiftly. “Let’s go. There’s more prey to play with.”

“But...” Jason follows his gaze and freezes. “Shit. Yeah. Let’s go.” They get up and jog away, leaving me where I lie on the ground, scraped all to hell and covered in their orgasms.

As their footsteps fade, Casimir steps out of the foliage to loom over me. His gaze rakes me, no doubt cataloging every mark and bit of evidence of my being with someone who isn’t him. Come all over my tits, making my collar sticky, all over my pussy.

I can’t do anything but lie here. The adrenaline is still coursing through my body, mixing up the messages in my brain. He’s obviously furious, but I can’t quite bring myself to care right now. I can’t make my body move either. Everything feels distant and spacey, almost like I’m drunk.

“Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Yes.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I thought so.” Casimir crouches next to me and brushes my sweaty hair back from my face. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

His thumb strokes my brow. “Game or no game, if they harmed you, I’ll kill them.”

“Can’t. It would make Reaper mad.” I lean into his touch. “They were nice. And then mean. Don’t murder them.”

He carefully scoops me into his arms. There’s a barely contained violence in his body, but that doesn’t stop me from cuddling close and pressing my face to his throat. I’m sticky and sore and starting to get cold. I shiver. “No murder.”

“No murder,” he says, his fury mixed with amusement. “You’re a menace, baby. Nothing easy with you.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” He carries me out of the conservatory and down the stairs. There’s no hesitation in him as he navigates the halls. It just confirms what I already knew—he’s been here before, enough times to be familiar with the layout.

We make it back to the room in far less time than I expected. Casimir walks through the space to the bathroom. He sets me down on the counter and takes a wary step back. “Can you sit there while I get this going?”

“Yep.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. The adrenaline is draining away, leaving me woozy. I shiver. “Probably.”

He gives me a forbidding look. “Don’t fall.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

“Brat.” He moves to the large clawfoot tub and fiddles with the faucet until the water apparently reaches the temperature he’s satisfied with. Then he comes back to me and tugs off my robe. He looks me up and down and shakes his head. “You’re a mess.”

I follow his gaze. I’m covered in others’ orgasms. There are scrapes on my knees and palms—and ass, from the feel of things. I also have a constellation of bruises forming across my body. But what catches and holds my attention is the collar. Even though it’s sticky with Rick’s come, it’s such a clear indication of ownership that I shiver, way down deep. “Yep.”

Casimir grabs a washcloth and wipes most of the come off me, but frowns at the scrapes. “This will sting, but it’s necessary.”

Though I have every intention of processing those words, it’s hard to focus when he’s taking off his pants. “What?”

He takes me back into his arms and steps into the tub. The second the hot water hits my scrapes, I yelp and try to rise. Casimir clamps an arm around my waist, keeping me pinned to him. “Sit.”

“It hurts.” My voice comes out thick. Holy fuck, what iswrongwith me? I suddenly feel like I’m about to cry. I press my hands to my cheeks. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Subspace drop.” Now that I’m no longer trying to flee, he gentles his touch and guides me to relax back against him.

The water buoys me, and his strong body brackets me. Slowly, the worst of the feeling eases. “So that’s what it feels like,” I whisper. I’ve heard about it, of course, but considering how embedded my parents and extended family are in the BDSM community in Carver City, I’d never explored anything that would have done it to me.

I close my eyes. “What happens now?”

“You keep asking questions you already know the answer to.” He strokes his hands over me, and if it didn’t feel so good, I’d accuse him of trying to gentle me the way one would gentle a skittish horse.

But it does feel good, so I don’t. In fact, I can’t seem to open my eyes. My body is loose and relaxed. “Don’t let me drown.”

Casimir’s chuckle is dry and amused and sounds nothing like Luke’s ever did. “You’re not getting away from me that easily, baby. Sleep. I’ve got you.”

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