Page 63 of His Enforcer

“See, the thing is, Vik, you may not care who I fuck, but it seems I care who you fuck. We keep this between us.”

I stare at him in disbelief, and he grins.

“Like I said, I own you now.”

“No. You don’t.”

He cocks his head to the side and steps closer until his chest is pressed against mine. His hand cups the front of my neck, histhumb tilting my head to the side. And then his lips are on my skin, sucking roughly, making my eyes roll into the back of my head.

I know what he’s doing.

He’s marking me.

Showing everyone I’m his.

His teeth drag against my sensitive skin, my body trembling, a tightness forming between my legs. A minute later, he pops off, his gaze solely on where his mouth just was. His finger reaches up, brushing across the smarting skin.

“Better. Now let’s get ready to go.”

With shaking hands, I finish my coffee despite the sting of my skin and the weight of those words. He owns me? Who the hell does he think he is? And why am I going along with it? Why did I let him mark me?

I know the answer. I’m really far fucking gone.I need to find someone else to fuck, I think as I move out to the SUV and grab my go-bag, showering, dressing, and brushing my teeth in record time. I refuse to look at the mark he put on my skin when I glance in the mirror, just flip the collar of my shirt up so no one can see it.

By the time I’m done, Luca is ready to go, looking suave and put together in his three-piece suit. His eyes move to my hidden hickey and he smirks.

“You can pretend all you want, Vik, but we both know the truth. It was crystal clear to me last night.”

I grab the keys and stalk to the car.

I don’t know what he’s talking about.

Not a fucking clue.

As I start the ignition and back out of the driveway, Luca flicks his cigarette out into the rain and sighs.

“You know, I remember when I first met you,” he says as I follow the GPS to Sabrina’s office. “All knees and elbows. Swollen eyes, dirty clothes.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re starved and tortured.”

His eyes land on me, and they don’t move from the side of my face.

“Tortured?”

I swallow and purse my lips. “Yep.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“Didn’t Anthony tell you?”

“He did, but I admittedly didn’t pay much attention at the time.”

“They were drug users. Got into a lot of bad shit. Dad overdosed when I was eleven. Mom died in prison shortly after that.”

“And then?”

“Foster care until the abuse there had me running away. I lived on the streets awhile.”

Luca’s silent a moment and then he turns his gaze forward. “I’m assuming Anthony took care of the foster parents?”

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