Page 86 of Evil Boys

“You’re a bastard.”

His fingers dig into my skin right where my pants end, and my skin begins. “Call me whatever you want, you can’t deny that he wasn’t giving you what you craved. What you needed to get off.” One hand cups my face, and he squeezes my cheeks together. “I did. And nothing will ever stop me from claiming you.”

Pfft. How would he know what I need?

“All that, just so you could get some pussy,” I spit back. “Pathetic.”

Who even does that? Lie underneath someone’s bed while they’re getting railed?

“Not some pussy …” He cups my ass, squeezing tight right in the nook where my thighs meet. “Yours and yours alone,” he whispers. “Because this pussy wasmadefor me.”

I can’t believe he just said that.

“Over my dead body,” I say through gritted teeth.

Another spin during our dance has me dizzy.

He sways his body from left to right against mine—hard cock grinding into my ass, one hand on my waist, and the other skirting dangerously close to my neck. “You think you still have a choice, but you already made yours.”

“Why? Just because you caught me killing someone?” I retort. “Or were you stalking me before that? Is that why you three were there at that house at the same time?”

“Hmm … a happenstance. Call it fate, if you want,” he responds.

“Lies,” I grit.

“Believe what you want, little kitty … it won’t change the fact that you belong to us now.”

Wait…

My brows furrow. “Us?”

Amusement tugs at his lips. “You didn’t think I’d come here to drag you out of this serpent’s den alone, did you?”

My whole body tenses against his, and an icy chill courses through my veins.

“But I’ll play fairly this time and give you a chance to defend yourself … After all, I like a challenge. And bringing you those goose bumps I promised was already too easy.”

Easy? Me? What a joke.

But when his hand skitters down my arm, the obvious bumps on my body betray me.

“But that scream you owe me? Now that’s a challenge I’ll take on.”

Scream?

Suddenly, it clicks, and I feel like the oxygen is ripped straight from my lungs.

The texts he sent me.

“So go on, little kitty … see if you can stay out of my claws.”

What? Is he for real?

Part of me wants to pummel him in the face for even calling me that in public and making me feel uneasy, but another part … hums with desire.

He grabs my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin, as he leans over to whisper, “I won’t say it a second time … Run.”

And when he pushes me forward, I immediately turn my head.

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