Page 38 of Ruthlessly Mated
“Well, we are going to interrupt your plans, because we want you alive,” I tell her. “We’re actually all very invested in you staying alive.”
“I’ll stay alive as long as it doesn’t get in the way of my plan for vengeance. Deal?”
“Something of a deal.”
Damon ushers her to the table, and we all take a seat. Four chairs for four of us. We sit around the circular round table staring at one another with varying expressions, each of us with a different plan.
“So talk,” she says. “What do you want?”
“I want babies,” Conroy says. “I want a mate to love and protect and to breed.”
Kita blushes. “You want babies with me?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Really?” She seems terribly surprised. “After everything you’ve already been through? Or wait… you just want babies. You don’t care that I’m clearly a psycho.”
“You’re a very cute psycho,” Conroy says in a rare burst of charm. “And everything in my body wants me to impregnate you, so yes, I want babies. With you. What I don’t want with you is a van full of dead vampire parts.”
Kita smirks.
Interesting. Maybe the two of them have some chance of actually getting along at some point. Maybe it won’t just be fighting the entire time.
I feel a little pang. Conroy and Damon seem to have this very natural, instinctive connection with Kita, and here I am, thinking every angle through. This is what I do. This is what has served me for as long as I can remember. And this feels terrible.
Kita
He wants babies. My babies. There’s something about him saying that to me that makes me instantly so fucking wet it’s like I forget about everything else besides what it feels like to have him deep inside me. Conroy is a massive beast of a wolf, a domineering alpha who makes me want to fight him all the way until he pins me down and…
“I don’t want babies,” I declare. “They’re gross.”
Conroy looks me dead in the fucking eye and smirks. “I don’t care if you want babies. I am going to fuck a litter into you.”
“Asshole.”
“I might use that hole too. It would save you from getting knocked up too soon.”
I stare at him, horrified, but knowing he’s fucking with me. It’s just like I’m fucking with him. We already have this thing where we talk absolute shit to one another and I’m finding it very fucking hot.
Damon is by my side, his hand rubbing up and down my back in a soothing manner. His presence remains so calming, and so warm. I glance around at Tailor, who is sitting bolt upright in the chair and looking at me with an expression I can only describe as mathematical. I feel like a problem in the course of being solved.
It makes me want to shrink away from him. I feel small and problematic and guilty. He’s cleaned up nicely, but when I lookat him, I see him as he was when Conroy pulled him into the truck. He was so badly fucking hurt. He hasn’t complained about it one bit; he’s barely mentioned it as an inconvenience.
I fall silent again.
“There’s not going to be a part of your body that isn’t going to be used by us. All of us,” Conroy says. “I’ve been gentle with you because you were a virgin.”
“You were not gentle with me! You threw me on a table in the middle of a bar and fucked me in front of every criminal in a thousand-mile radius! I lost my virginity publicly! Like a…”
“Like a what?” Conroy grins, almost daring me to finish the sentence.
“You know like what,” I blush. I don’t usually blush. Shame is for people who haven’t spent their whole lives planning elaborate and terrible revenge. I’ve spent my life doing my best to eradicate any softer impulses, because I knew I’d need to be pretty much emotionally indestructible to survive.
“You belong to us,” Tailor says. “There’s no ‘like a’… anything. No matter what happens, you will always belong.”
Those words should probably feel reassuring, but they feel like ropes wrapping around me, choking off my air. I don’t know why Conroy telling me he’s going to fuck babies into me feels so fucking hot, but Tailor telling me I belong to them makes me want to set myself on fire and run screaming through the city streets. Very different kind of hot.
Damon’s hand slides up the back of my neck and settles in my hair, flexing and then gripping firmly. It brings me back to mybody and makes me stop worrying for a moment. This man has my brain off switch, and I think I love him for it.
