Page 19 of Hateful Union

“Ask them,” I tell her. “It doesn't mean I'm going to answer them.”

She nods her head in acknowledgement. She knew that was coming. “You said my father sells people. What did you mean?” There’s no anger, no hysteria, just cool and collected.

Well fucking colour me shocked. I never expected that to come out of her mouth. I let out a snarky laugh. “Don’t tell me the princess doesn't know what her father does.”

She opens her mouth, but I don’t let her speak. “Bullshit,” I hiss.

Her brows furrow before that anger is back. “Listen to me, you jackarse. I am not in the mood to play games. Whatever you have planned for my family I know that you are putting me at the centre of it. Don't you think I should know why I'm being used as a pawn in your psychotic game?” She downs the rest of the drink and places the glass onto my desk, before crossing her arms over her chest.

This woman has some balls to come here to my territory, stand her ground, and demand answers. But fuck, I've never been as hard as I am right now.

“No, I don't think you need to have answers. I think you're full of shit, I think you damn well know what your father does. Pretty sure you're part of their little empire they think they have going on.”

Her laugh is bitter. “I do not have anything to do with my father's business, whatever business it is.”

Lies. The way she’s standing, her arms crossed over her chest, the way her eyes flitter across the room. It screams, liar. I’ve had enough of the games.

“Listen here, princess. I don't give a fuck what you think you know, or what you don't know. All I will say is that your father is going down, and one way or another you are too.”

She smirks, “Oh, you are so deluded. The only fucker going down is you.”

I take the two steps needed so that I’m standing in front of her. “Do not fucking push me…” I warn her, my control slipping with each word that leaves her mouth.

Her lips purse, “Aww, poor Mally, he can’t stand the heat.”

My hand snaps around her neck, my fingers tightening against her soft skin. “Seriously, Raylee,” I growl, “you do not want to play this game with me.”

Those fucking golden eyes of hers—so expressive. They flash with anger and need. I drop my eyes to her lips when her tongue snakes out from those pouty lips and swipes across her bottom lip. “Whatcha gonna do?”

She’s fucking taunting me.

Enough is e-fucking-nough.

I slam my lips down against hers. I bite, suck, and dominate her mouth. Needing to taste her. The oxygen seems to shrink from the room as I devour her perfect mouth.

.

8

Raylee

He's such a bastard. I didn't come here for this. I don't want him. I can’t have him.

He treats me as though I'm nothing but a pawn in his stupid game. As if I’m someone that’s to be used and destroyed. I'm so much more than Harry Silver’s daughter. So much more than the Silvers’ sister. I’m Raylee. I love hard, deep, and without reservation. I want the absolute best for those that I do love, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure they’re happy.

This motherfucker. God. He pushes all the wrong buttons. He makes me feel as though I'm a nobody. And that's not okay. I will not be treated as though I’m not worthy to be in his presence. The only one not worthy is him.

When he wrapped his hand around my neck, I saw the monster that he has hidden under the surface in his eyes. I knew there was no way I could deny what this fucked up thing between us is. As much as I don't want it and as much as I hate it. I can't ignore it.

Having his lips on mine, the way his tongue sweeps into my mouth, the way he dominates, taking over. It’s as though he’s asserting his ownership.

But the thing is, he does not own me. He will never own me. I am not his to own. He never will be.

But I can't push him away. I can't find it in me to break free of this spell we’re under. His fingers around my neck flex. The dominant hold he has on me, something that no one has ever done before, speaks to me in a place deep inside. I didn't think I'd be into that shit. Fuck.

What the hell is wrong with me today, making bad decision after bad decision?

The kiss is unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. It's as though he's taking everything from me and replacing it with a need for him. It's slow, tantalizingly so. The hard, languid strokes with his tongue, the way his lips are pressed harshly against mine, the way his body fits perfectly in line with mine, feeling the tight ripples of his muscles. It’s almost my undoing.

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