Page 120 of Captive Audience
“I approve of this.” He hooked a finger into the neck of my hoodie.Hishoodie. “It can stay.”
I glimpsed a smear of blood on the back of Rook’s hand. “His?” I asked, and he followed mygaze.
He nodded. “Want to take this to the shower?”
I should’ve said yes. I should’ve been repulsed by those smudges.
But there was something darkly satisfying about the idea of being taken against this wall with my abuser’s blood still staining the man who’d avenged me.
Like it was one last kick in the teeth for that asshole.
I clutched Rook’s shirt. “No. Don’t stop.”
I heard the clink of Rook’s belt buckle, the sound of a zipper, then felt the heavy press of his cock at my entrance.
His eyes locked with mine. “Forgive me,” he said, and slammed into me with one brutal thrust.
I cried out, clawing at his shoulders. I felt too full, stretched to my limit.
But the burn was sharp and exquisite. I needed this. Needed to feel him. Not just now, but tomorrow when I woke sore, marked, and used by Rook in the best possible way.
He gave me a single breath to adjust before drawing back and slamming in again.
“I’ve waited too fucking long for this,” he snarled. “For you to stop running. To admit you want me.”
“I’m not running.” I buried my face in his neck, my lips brushing the pulse that hammered beneath his skin. “Not anymore.”
“Good.” His voice was feral. “Because I’m done pretending like I don’t want to fuck you every time I walk through the door.”
He drove into me again and again.
Hard. Ruthless.
Perfect.
The wall shook with every thrust. The slap of skin filled the room, mingling with Rook’s throaty grunts and my breathy gasps.
“Take it, Wildfire. Take every fucking inch of me in your tight little cunt and know that no other man will have you like this. They won’t hear your sweet moans, feel your nails in their skin, or know what it’s like to be milked dry by this greedy pussy. Those belong to me. Do you understand?”
I nodded, too far gone for words.
“Say it,” he growled.
“Yes, Rook. I understand.”
“No, love. I don’t think you do.” He slowed, just enough to leaveme panting for more. “I’d lie for you. Steal for you. Kill for you. I’d slice through my own flesh and bleed out to prove my devotion. I’d betray my most loyal ally, spit on any god, and raze this city if it meant keeping you safe.”
My lips parted, and my breath caught.
Were we still pretending? Was this real?
I didn’t know anymore.
“You’re my queen,” he murmured, skimming his mouth over mine. “The only one I’d kneel for. Because as much as I own you, you own me, too. Body and soul.”
His words tore through me like fire.
This wasn’t a man claiming me for power. This was a man offering submission in the only way he knew how.
