Page 45 of The Pretty Savage

And I lost it.

I had no idea what that said about me, but the moment the praises started, the moment the dirty, filthy words spilled from his lips, I started erupting. My entire body shook with the force of an orgasm that snuck out of nowhere, while Adrian's hand tightened around my neck to the point of a blackout.

But I didn't care. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this wasn't okay. This wasn't good—not for me and not for the mission—but I couldn't stop myself.

He grunted, rubbing against me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck as his fingers expertly flicked over my clit, prolonging my orgasm until I couldn't stand anymore. My knees shook, my eyelids heavy, and I sagged against him, needing him for the support.

But I should've known better.

His hand pulled out of my pants, and within seconds he stepped away from me without warning, letting me fall down onto the floor. I grunted when my bad shoulder hit the sink I was holding on to, my knees taking the brunt of the fall.

And he laughed, while I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

I looked up at him, expecting a smug look, but it wasn't there. He was laughing, but the hollow sound didn’t have the intended effect.

"You look pretty on your knees," he said instead, masking those emotions further behind the ugly words thrown at me without a care in the world. "You should remember that this is your spot in this world, Vega. You'll never be anything more than a foot soldier, born and raised to serve people like me."

He wanted to hurt me, I realized.

He wanted to make me hate him.

He kept calling me a little liar, as if he knew something I didn't, and I wanted to dissect that information, to figure out what he knew. But there was no way I was in any shape to do that now.

Not when my entire body still shook and not when he still stood there, looking as regal as ever, while I remained on my knees, looking up at him.

"And now," he crouched down, his forefinger pressing underneath my chin, lifting my head up, "you belong to me. Body, mind, and soul."

A fresh wave of anger tore through my limbs, and for the first time in the last few minutes since he came in, my training kicked in, reminding me who I was.

My hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down onto his knees. His eyes widened, the surprise evident on his face, and if he thought he'd be the only one that could play this game, he was sorely mistaken.

With adrenaline coursing through me, I put him on the same level as me, tightening my hold on his neck, until I brought our faces barely inches away from each other.

"Maybe that's right, Adrian." I chuckled, hating how hollow even that sounded. "But just remember that I don't share and if I belong to you like your own personal toy," I murmured against his lips, reveling in the flashes of desire in his eyes. "Then you belong to me as well." I bit down on his lower lip, eliciting a groan from somewhere deep in his body, breaking through the skin until the metallic taste of his blood filled my mouth, making me grin like a maniac the moment I let him go.

"Body. Mind." I leaned closer, licking the spilled blood from his chin. "And soul, Adrian."

He shot off of the floor as if I'd burned him, and I didn't mistake the wet spot on his pants before he turned around and rushed out of the bathroom, leaving me on the floor with confusing thoughts rushing through my mind.

Adrian Zylla was a bully, but he should've known that I wouldn't back down. Besides, I liked the idea of him belonging to me, more than the idea of me belonging to him. And if he had a problem with that, then he should've thought this through before threatening me and trying to shatter my heart.

Because before he could destroy my heart, I vowed I would get his instead.

Or I'd die trying.

16

ADRIAN

"What crawled up your ass?" Dante's annoying voice filtered through my mind, and the urge to throw the rocks glass I’d been holding for the last half hour had never been growing.

Jax, who was sitting opposite of me at the table we always claimed whenever we went to Nightshade, a bar in town, simply looked up at me, ignoring Dante's question as much as I was. It was Jax's idea to get away from the Academy for the night, and while it seemed like a good idea at the time, now I wasn't so fucking sure.

Everything in me screamed to go back to St. Vasili's and see her, feel her, touch her again. But all those thoughts only made me want to smash the glass against the wall behind Jax's back, and I couldn't have that.

"You do look like you're going to kill somebody," Dante added, placing his elbows on the table. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I didn't know we came out here to share our deepest, darkest trauma, color our nails, and talk about girls," I grumbled, taking a sip of the whiskey that barely registered on my tongue. I fought against the urge to bring my fingers to my nose again, to smell her, to remember what she felt like in my arms. "I thought we were here to discuss our next steps and what needed to happen. But if you want me to braid your hair, just say so."

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