Page 8 of Regressive

I laugh. God, this is rich. “You think I have a choice about that? You think I don’t want to have my own life? My own options.” I lunge forward, gripping the front of his shirt in my fist. “My own fucking mate?” I tilt my head, locking eyes. “That’s not how our world works. So yeah, I did what I always do, what we all always do, follow up on the mess you leave behind.” I nod to where Katelyn had just been pressed against the wall. “Who do you think is going to clean her up tomorrow? Smooth that over?”

Silas. We both know that. He’ll be the one to meet her if she shows up tomorrow at the Center or track her down if she doesn’t. He’ll follow up, soothe her bruised ego and work his magic.

“Jesus, Elon. I’m just blowing off a little steam,” he says, having the good sense to look a little guilty. I release him and he shakes his head. “Fucking Imogene… it’s like screwing a plank. She just lies there, looking like she’s waiting for it to be over.”

I stare at him. “Then maybe you need to up your goddamn game.”

He waves me off. “Nah. She’s too much work.”

Of course. That’s why he’s offered her to us. I get her dressed for him. Silas breaks her in. Levi works on her flaws. It’s too late to argue about this—how could I? I’d be dealing with years of ingrained entitlement. I don’t have that time—and honestly, it’s not my place.

“Come on,” I say, “I don’t care what you do with her when you get home—justgohome. You promised.”

He relents, but not before finishing his drink. It’s then that I notice how wasted he is and it’s probably a good thing I showed up when I did. Rex may be Teflon inside Serendee, but outside? Things are different. People are watching and one false move could be a problem for everyone.

5

Imogene

The smell infiltratesmy dreams at the same time the bed shifts underneath me, jarring me from sleep. Before I can react a heavy hand weighs on my hip, then pins me by the arms. I blink, looking up at the figure in the dark. I can smell him; the spicy scent of alcohol on his breath, the leather from the bracelet I tied to his wrist. Rex straddles me, thighs on each side of my body, my arms caught in his grip.

“You’re here,” Rex says, running his hand over the side of my breast, “just like I told you to be, just like a good Little Lamb.”

“You’re drunk.” My voice is raspy from sleep. I squirm but he clamps his thighs tighter, holding me in.

He laughs. “And a little high.” His fingers reach between us, bunching up the silk and fingers the lace waistband of my panties. I stiffen and he says, “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The hard press of his erection against my lower belly says otherwise. At least he was true to this word and came home.

My mouth dries as I watch him lift slightly freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He’s long and engorged, tip slippery already. The twist of fear and want wars in my blood. Pulse racing, heat building. Silas showed me it didn’t have to hurt, but there’s also something dark in me that knows I like pain. I think he likes it that way, too, and I brace myself.

He moves up my body, planting my arms under his knees, freeing his hands. He makes quick work of the silk top, tossing it on the floor. His hands move to my breasts, kneading them roughly. I swallow back a cry, knowing it will only encourage him.

“Remind me to thank Levi,” he says, fingers circling my nipple and sharply tugging the peak.

“What?” Does he know about the Corrections? How pain turns to pleasure? “Why?”

“I know he encourages you eat more,” he pushes my breasts together, enhancing the valley between them. “The results are worth it. Your tits are definitely bigger.”

He bends, licking a hot trail between my breasts and then lathing his tongue over my nipple. I shiver from the feel of it, back arching. Rex laughs, his warm breath coating the wet skin. And he moves again, settling higher, pushing the tip of his cock between my breasts.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s more than one way to fuck, you know that, Little Lamb?” His hands gather my flesh, and he slides his erection into the tight space. “It’s not just the pussy, or even the mouth. Now that they’re big enough, I can fuck your tits.”

He thrusts into me again, sticky fluid coating the way. His hands hurt and his I fight for air. He bends over and whispers in my ear. “Just wait until I spread your cheeks and fuck you in the ass.”

His words elicit the rush of warmth between my legs, I squirm beneath him. It seems to excite him, too, and he finds a rhythm, pushing and pulling his cock between my breasts. He’s so dirty, so terribly bad, and this is not what I expect from my Mate. It’s certainly not what I expect from the heir of Serendee.

His breath grows ragged, and I look up at his face; jaw clenched and tilted back. He’s beautiful like this, with red cheeks and a slick sheen of sweat. His hair is pale, always catching light and giving off the hint of a halo. He’s no angel. He’s anything but. I should loathe him, but I’ve learned that my body and mind are not always in synch. Or maybe they are, and I just don’t know what to do about it.

But that’s why he picked me. I’m bad, too.

The soft flesh of my breasts feels numb from his rough handling and abuse, but I still feel it when he makes his final, lurching, groan, pinching his fingers deep into the skin. I cry out and close my eyes, feeling thick seed spill across my chest.

I lay under him like that, soiled and used, aware when he shifts back, releasing me from his weight. Without moving, I wait for the sound of him leaving, the gathering of his things and the slow exit. Instead, I sense the rustling of sheets and a soft cloth wiping off my chest. I open my eyes just in time to see him toss the cloth on the floor and kick off his pants. A moment later he’s lying next to me. He’s staying? He did say this wasourbedroom. I curl up and away, facing the wall, pretending my heart isn’t still pounding and that there’s not a dull ache between my legs.

I shift my eyes away and stare at the wall next to the bed. There’s a spider building a web in the corner of the windowsill, an insect trapped in the sticky threads. I watch its tiny legs spinning, faster and faster, as it approaches its prey. Rex curls behind me, his chest still rising and falling.

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