Page 77 of Wicked Duty
The sight of his blood scalds my throat with guilt. He’s hurt, and it’s my fault. His wound serves as a stark reminder of the danger surrounding us even in our most intimate moments.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I hop off the bed in seconds, wrapping my arm around his. He grimaces.
“I’m fine.” He pushes at my hand in an attempt to shoo me away. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Like hell it isn’t.”
I hurry us both to the bathroom, my mind spinning in circles.
How could I forget that every second Callum’s with me, he’s in danger?
Chapter 29
Callum
Lucy sits me on the lip of the bathtub while she fusses about searching for first aid supplies. All while her wetness dries on my face.
I’m torn between apologizing—knowing full well that I’ve crossed yet another line—and pushing her down on the marble countertop across from me to pleasure her all over again.
I’ve only tasted Lucy Marlow once, but I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to her tiny moans and sweet flavor.
I’m so fucked up. She’s under my protection, and I just spent the past few minutes eating her out like a starving man.
People are counting on me to do a job, but the only instructions I’m following lately come from my cock.
I should feel guilty for what just transpired. And I do. But I don’t regret it. Not when I reflect back on the way her face scrunched up as she came, her little sighs afterward, and the tension in her thighs around my ears.
As far as I’m concerned, Lucy is mine, and I’ll fight anyone who claims otherwise. Even Shane, because fuck him. I doubt he cares about Lucy’s safety. He just wants the crypto wallet.
I understand why Darren, Veronika, and the Kings didn’t disclose Lucy’s sex trafficking experience. That wasn’t theirbusiness to tell. Still, they could’ve at least warned me. I’ve been a super-sized asshole because I had no idea what Roguilin did to her. I treated her like a spoiled, attention-seeking brat because they couldn’t just give me a damn hint regarding the truth.
And now I know that Lucy’s dirt on Roguilin is more than just the wallet, more than just her kidnapping. Cracking down on international sex trafficking is big business for New York politicians and lawyers.
Her testimony alone is probably enough to send that sick fuck to prison for life. But that’s only if I don’t slit his throat first. If I have anything to say about it…
Lucy returns to the bathroom. “Let’s get that shirt off.” A small orange first aid kit clatters onto the counter.
Wait. That’s the kit from my duffel bag.
“You went into my bag?”
“It’s an emergency.”
If anyone else had dug through my things, they’d be halfway to the grave already. But Lucy touching my belongings somehow doesn’t bother me.
I shake my head. I’ll deal with that revelation later. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“Shut up. I’m helping you whether you like it or not.” Lucy refuses to take no for an answer, her soft hands disappearing beneath the hem of my shirt and gently drawing it up toward my head despite my protests.
Just lifting my arms sends sharp, blinding stabs through my shoulder and chest. Even I can’t mask this amount of pain. Lucy slants me a knowing look and grabs for the nearest towel to mop up the blood drying on my skin. While the injury seemed too small to worry about earlier, I may have exacerbated it during our recent intimate activities. If so, I sure as shit didn’t notice.
I relent, allowing her to clean and bandage me without further complaint. She putters back and forth in the bathroom,tending to me with surprising gentleness. I try not to stare at her bare ass and pussy, but I’m fighting a losing battle.
She seems to have forgotten she’s half naked.
Either that, or she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s mine for the taking now.
Whatever the case may be, it’s only a matter of time before I finish the job and fuck her beautiful body properly.
