Page 77 of Revenge of a Queen

Marcus moves so fast that none of us see him until his fist is smashing against Greg’s jaw, forcing him to the floor.

Lincoln drags him back with force and Jace helps him, he needs too. Greg stands, wiggling out his jaw with a sinister smile on his face like he is really enjoying himself. He spits blood to the floor tarnishing the pureness of it, “You'll regret that Riviera. Just like your dad did.”

Marcus roars trying to escape the guys, “I will fucking kill you,” but before he can get past them Greg grabs me and pulls me into his body. Dragging me against him and I almost gag when I feel his cock hardening against my ass. The pleasure I will feel when I chop it the fuck off will be unparalleled. His hands on me flood my brain with nightmares I wish I could forget, memories I try my hardest daily to suppress. He inhales my hair just like he did that night, closing his eyes, like he is trying to memorize my scent once more.

Losing control of his urges is another slip up on his part. The click of a gun hits his head at the same time Asher rushes the room taking in the scene. Thankfully ,Greg’s is too focused on Lincoln to notice the despair on Ash’s face. Despair that turns to pure fucking acid.

“Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her.” Lincoln speaks each word slowly putting emphasis on each one. His cool and calm tone sounds completely detached and deadly, I've never seen him look so intense and I've seen him after he committed four murders. His green eyes now a shade of black I am unfamiliar with. I have no doubt that he will blow Greg’s brains out right here if he doesn’t obey. I have a feeling this is a truer version of Lincoln to what we are used to, he looks too calm, too comfortable, too ready.

Greg doesn’t move, just cocks his stare to the side to take in Linc's form and he smiles before looking back at me. “Oh, don’t worry, Rebel,” he says stepping back and away from the gun before turning and locking eyes with Ash, “I got everything I came for,” he smiles wide at his brother and I can tell from Ash’s face that he is close to the edge right now, so I subtly shake my head and pray he sees it.

Greg makes a show of fastening his tuxedo jacket before continuing, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some family business to attend to,” he moves confidently towards the door on the assumption we won’t fucking murder him. To be honest, it’s a close fucking toss up right now with the rage drowning the room. But in true psycho form he doesn’t seem bothered, just nods his head at Asher on the way out, “Brother, they’re all yours.”

Asher watches him leave and nobody speaks until he turns back to us, “Something’s not right,”

“Yeah, your brother is a fucking murdering rapist,” Lincoln spits and I flinch at his dark, murderous tone.

“I wasn’t fucking talking to you, help,” Asher grits back at him before looking to me. “You okay, baby girl?”

I nod before answering, “Yeah, I’m fine.” I am far from fucking fine, but I try my hardest to control my breathing and work to center myself.

He doesn’t look convinced, “Something’s not right. I can feel it,” he says looking around at the other three before coming back to me. “I’m going to follow him, you guys go home, I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.”

He turns to leave, “Ash,” I call out to him and he pauses looking over his shoulder, “Be careful.”

His smile is tight and forced, “Always.”

Chapter 45

ELLE

Itry to take a breath but I can’t, they come in short pants, as I struggle to deal with the aftermath of seeing Greg. The adrenaline that kept me going head-to-head with him is nowhere in sight. All I feel is fear, panic, grief. I need something, anything, to stop me from sinking into the void of my past. I struggle to take a deep breath, as I stare off at the door that Asher just exited.

"Baby," Marcus reaches out to caress my cheek. "Stay with me," he pleads, as he pulls me into his arms. I close my eyes and try to let his words soothe me.

I feel him turn slightly to speak with the other guys, "Can you give us a minute?" Neither Lincoln nor Jace say a word, but I hear the door open and close. I know the instant we are alone. His grip goes from careful and tentative to possessive.

He grabs my chin and tilts my head back, when I open my eyes his dark stare is locked on mine. Waiting. Wanting. He feels it too. The despair, the loss, the grief, the pain. He needs me just as much as I need him. To remind ourselves that we are here and this thing between us is real.

"Whatever the fuck he said to you, forget it," his voice is gritted, laced with the darkness I know is coursing through him. "Whatever he thinks he took from you, he didn't." His arms circle my waist as he lifts me, walking backwards until we hit a desk against the wall. He places me onto it effortlessly, parting my legs and stepping between them.

"You're Elle fucking King and Greg Donovan is rapist scum who deserves nothing more than to be fucking blood on your blade."

He is as close to the edge as I am. I can feel the string holding him here with me and not going after Greg, it’s ready to snap. Being that close to the person who ruined everything and yet doing nothing. I see it in his eyes, in his fucking soul, he wants to go after him, attack him, fucking ruin him until he is nothing but fucking bone dust. Only then will he feel relief, I get it, I feel it too, more than he could ever know. He may have taken so much from me, but he took from Marcus too, took our friendship, our future, our fucking meant to be. He ruined everything.

Marcus Riviera was my first friend, my first crush, my first love, and if it wasn't for Greg Donovan, he would have been my first everything. The only person who hates him more than me for that is Marcus. It doesn't matter what we share, he will always have taken that from us. I need Marcus to know that this thing between us is everything, that Greg Donovan is nothing, and that together we will fucking shine.

I grip his shirt and start un-fastening the buttons and surprise flares in his eyes. "I need you, Marcus." I ensure that my tone is smooth and serious, even as pleading as I am, he needs to know how much I want this, how much I need this, need him.

"Make me forget,” I tear his shirt open. “Take away his words,” my hands brush up his chest. “His touch,” I drag my nails down his abs. “Just fucking everything that isn't you and me, right here in this room." His skin is warm, yet goosebumps appear at my touch. "I want you to take me, Marcus, right here on this desk, mark me, fucking claim me the only way you can."

My words snap him into action as he growls. Fucking growls.

He attacks my mouth with unrestrained lust. Lips, teeth, tongue, I feel him everywhere, yet I still need more. He slides his hands along my thighs until my dress is parted fully and he drags my ass to the edge of the desk. He looks down and gets the first glimpse of what I'm wearing underneath. The red lace already soaked in my desire.

"Fuck," he grunts out like he is in pain. "So fucking sexy," he practically spits.

He drops to his knees immediately, ripping my thong aside and plunges his tongue between my folds. There is no teasing kisses or slow licks, no, he fucking feasts on me, ravishing me like I am the very air he needs to breathe. Every lash of his tongue against my clit feels like a flame licking my body. My legs start to shake as he brings me to the edge so fucking fast, I can't do anything but grip his hair, and fuck his face, chasing my release. It doesn't build, or creep up on me, it just bursts out of me full force, ripping a scream from my throat as he pushes me into the fastest fucking orgasm I've ever had.

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