Page 110 of Stabby Little

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

The one-word mantra echoes around my skull like a call to prayer, a blaring signal to drop to my knees and praise him.

One paltry taste of his lips isn't enough—I need to possess him.

Now.

This second.

I don't give a fuck who sees.

Let these men know I'm psycho for my kitty.

No one else can do so much as look at him.

I heave him into my arms and take him into the hallway. He screeches as he hits me, clawing at my shoulders. "Put me down! You're insane!"

"If you want to stop, say the club's safe word." I stare dead into his eyes.

My kitten glares at me through his mask. "Fuck you."

"I'm taking you to the playroom and making you mine if you don't use your special word. You have five seconds to say it."

He says nothing, but he clenches his fists in anger. His eyes burn a hole through my skull as he stares at me with unrelenting hate.

"Five." I begin the countdown.

He says nothing. Not a word. But he doesn't scratch me again, which is progress. Right?

"Four." My voice is deeper this time, husky and raw. A decades-old lust tightens my vocal cords, making my timbre raspy.

"Three."

I wait for him to use the word. Because if he doesn't, I'm claiming him as my own. Our connection is too powerful and I've waited too long.

"Two." I tighten my grip on his body. "Last chance, kitten."

A low growl claws out of his throat, but he says nothing. "I hate you so much."

"One."

That's it.

There's no more room for doubt.

With a primal roar, I take him to the playroom and kick the Littles out. "Everyone out. Your presence is needed in the main room."

One Little in a purple onesie puts his hands on his hips. "I'm playing with racecars. You don't get to tell me what to do."

"I just told you." An enraged growl spasms behind my teeth. "Your Daddy will be upset you didn't follow directions."

The Littles cast a terrified look at me before scampering out of the room. I let out a maniacal laugh as I slam the door shut, then lock it behind me.

"There are no locked doors in the club," my kitten grits out, shooting a furious glare at me through his mask. "You're insomuch trouble."

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