“And if I let you fuck me, you’llreallylet me leave here alive?” I clear my throat, trying to judge what kind of savage I’m dealing with.
 
 His eyes sparkle. “Unless you decide you want to stay.”
 
 “But—”
 
 “Venom,” he barks, cutting me off. “I can walk out of here tomorrow and be gunned down by someone else.”
 
 “Doubtful,” I scoff.
 
 “Let’s have one more night where you let me do whatever filthy things I want to you.”
 
 I hide my face, embarrassed he’ll see the spark of desire in my eyes and the electricity crackling around me. How I have the unbelievable urge to surrender to a nightof pleasure with Connor again. A man who’s wickedly capable of driving me insane in bed.
 
 He exhales, like I’m thinning his patience. He could be seconds away from having those men outside deal with me. Loyal soldiers who can do God-knows-what to me, and no one will care.
 
 “I’m impressed with your courage to defy me,” Connor says reverently. “Let’s let your body decide.”
 
 Guilty. My panties are wet. Staying strong, I pitch my shoulders back. “How? Talk.”
 
 He sits on one of the club chairs and pats his knees. “Lie across my lap. I’ll punish you with my belt. If you don’t orgasm, I’ll let you go.”
 
 I process those words one by one. Once I’m bent over his knee, I’m a melted goner. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing with your life, Connor,” I say, stalling.
 
 “This is a dangerous game you’re playing with your fucking soul, Raina. Lose the weapons,” he orders, voice rough. “And strip, so I see every naked inch of you.”
 
 The minute he touches me between my legs, he’ll know just how much I want him.
 
 How I’m burning for him as much as he’s burning for me.
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY
 
 Raina
 
 Connor settles into the chair like a king on his throne, legs spread wide, belt hanging from his hand. His gaze rakes over me, dark and knowing, waiting to see if I’ll bolt or play.
 
 I roll my shoulders, slip off my jacket, and let it fall behind me. Beneath, sits my chest holster with the Sig. I deftly unbuckle the strap. With Connor carefully watching me, I remove my 9mm with the other hand from a holder clipped to the back of my pants and let both fall at my feet in a sexy, armed striptease.
 
 “Keep going,” he says huskily. “I should install a pole in here.”
 
 “You don’t have enough dollar bills.” I pull my favorite knife from my thigh sheath. I flip it and catch it by the hilt. The black, ridged handle is made from elk antlers and was very expensive.
 
 “Impressive. Now drop it,” he says in a lethal tone.
 
 I let it slip from my fingers, like it means nothing. Psychos and predators study their victims’ weaknesses. If he knows how much that knife means to me, he’ll take it. Or worse, destroy it.
 
 “Anything else? Surely, you came armed with more than two guns and one knife? I’d be personally offended if you didn’t.” Connor exhales slowly as he savors each second of my surrender.
 
 I reach into my boot and drop a few throwing knives to the floor.
 
 His eyes darken with every piece of steel that clatters to his hardwood floors.
 
 “Damn, woman.” He watches me, his grip tighteningon the belt still coiled in his hand. “How the hell were you walking around with all that on you?”
 
 I slow blink, reaching for the last weapon. “I’m no fucking amateur.” I pull the taser from a side pocket and drop it.
 
 His eyes trail over me with a slow, possessive gaze that I feel slither across my skin. “Now lose the threads.”
 
 Heat licks up my spine, but I do as he says. My tank top comes off in one smooth motion, and I toss it aside.