Page 58 of Taking

I had my princess back, one who liked to get snippy and claw me with her fingernails whenever the mood to fuck struck.

She came countless times, regardless of pain. Just pure, fucking pleasure. I didn’t need to get into her head—I could tell with every fuck, every kiss, every caress that I erased more of the bad memories. Pink returned to her cheeks and a healthy flush to her torso that didn’t appear quite as gaunt as before.

We sat at the table, eating steaks I’d pan-fried in a cast-iron skillet atop the fire. Baked potatoes with salt and a can of corn completed our feast.

“Shit this tastes so good it should be illegal,” I muttered, shoving the final bite of steak between my teeth, my focus on the glow of her face.

She lifted her legs up, feet on the chair, and pulled my T-shirt over her knees. “They didn’t serve you real food in prison?”

I snorted. “Fuck no.”

“So shitty food, no women, obviously.” She studied my face while I chewed. “Did you…”

“Fuck no,” I stated again.

“Five years is a long time to go without anything other than your fist.”

I eyed her while wiping my mouth over my sleeve. She wanted to talk about jail? Knowing the truth of the animal I’d become would probably bring out the hissing cat desperate to escape me. My dick twitched at the challenge.

“I shanked three fuckers while in there.”

“Shanked?”

I picked up my steak knife and stabbed the air, watching her face. “Shed blood. Ended lives.”

Her eyes didn’t widen, lips didn’t part.

“You aren’t surprised.” But I sure as fuck was over her lack of it.

“I’ve seen your rage,” she stated with a shrug like it was no big deal I’d killed three guys.

“And you don’t despise it? Don’t think I deserve to rot in hell for what I’ve done?” I sure as fuck didn’t. Assholes like the ones I ended didn’t deserve to live, and I took karma’s place once again.

Addilyn chewed on her lower lip. “I know it’s not right,” she finally said, “but I kinda get like when you lose your shit. Watching the video in the courtroom that day, seeing you beat Devon…” The pulse in her neck kicked up, and she licked her lower lip.

My princess got off on the same shit I did.

“You’re one sick bitch,” I said with a laugh, my swelling dick requiring an adjustment.

Her gaze dropped to her plate, her brow furrowing. “I know,” she whispered.

Ah, shit.

“Hey.” I reached over the table and grasped her chin, lifting her focus to me. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Her goddamn eyes welled. “Then how did you mean it, Gideon? Watching you beat Devon to hell turned me on. Pain arouses me. I’m not horrified you killed three guys—knowing you, they probably deserved it, but that doesn’t excuse how your violence makes me feel. There’s no other word to describe it but sick.”

“You’re fucking perfect.” I pulled her up and over the table like she weighed next to nothing, shoved back my chair, and settled her on my lap. My possessiveness knew no bounds. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, Addilyn Jane Reed. So damn soft.” I kissed her lips, wishing she could feel the pride swelling in my chest. “Sexy.” I nipped her lower lip. “Full of fire and spit—I fucking love when you fight me. Make me hard so I can fuck you until you squirt all over me.”

“Gideon,” she moaned against my mouth, grinding against my rigid length trapped between us. “All we do is fuck.”

I pulled back and narrowed my gaze. “You got me locked up for five years without pussy and have the balls to complain I want yours every hour of the goddamn day?” I asked without an ounce of heat even though the idea of punishing her stirred up my lust to full on throbbing.

“I’m sorry.” No tears—she fucking knew what I meant.

I shoved to a stand, toppling my chair over. Three strides put me beside the couch, and I whipped the little princess around, shoving her over the back. An upward swipe bunched the T-shirt at her nape.

That ass…

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