“Well.” That smug British accent skates over my skin. “Better you than me, love.”
Pushing off the door, I launch myself into Jonas’s arms before waiting to make sure he’ll catch me.
He does.
Naturally.
They wrap tight around my waist, and he buries his head into my neck. I wince, pain ebbing where the brand brushes against him.
Pulling back, he cradles my face with calloused hands. “Are you all right, love?”
I shake my head, tears rolling over his fingers. “No,” I whisper, wishing more than anything that I could see him. Take some sort of comfort in those violet eyes and let myself get lost in their depths.
But if the lights come on, that means I’d see my father, too.
So, instead, I pray they remain off a little bit longer.
Scooping me into his arms, Jonas fits his shoulder against the wall, as if using it to judge his movements. I lay my head against his chest as he carries me, and my eyelids get so heavy that I decide to rest them for a moment.
When I open them again, I’m lying on the sofa in the living room. The lights have been restored, my dress has been discarded and replaced with an oversized T-shirt, and the fireplace warms my toes. Jonas sits on a stool at my side, glaring at the branding iron on the floor.
Across the room, Preston sits with his back against the wall. His wrists are handcuffed, and his arms are bound with a thick nylon rope, while packing tape covers his mouth.
Not to mention, he’s completely naked, and his hands are positioned, so he holds his flaccid dick between them. Humiliation colors his skin in reds and purples, and the glare he sends me could probably kill if I wasn’t already dead inside.
Looking at the man by my side, though, feeling warm in spite of everything that has happened tonight, I remind myself that it’s not true.
That the damage they did isn’t permanent, because I’m no longer allowing it to be.
“He’d been watching us,” Jonas says through clenched teeth. “I kept seeing things outside, shadows at night, but I didn’t think to look. Didn’t think it’d be anyone, because the security cameras never picked up on anything. Then, when Mileena showed up, I figured it’d just been her creepy arse.”
Drawing a deep breath, he shakes his head. Scrubs a hand over his face. “This brand isn’t even one of mine. He copied it. Watched us together. Watched you alone in my house. Knew where you’d be, what you’d be doing. He… he saw everything, Lenny. Like some sick Peeping fucking Tom.”
Pushing into a sitting position, I tuck my hair behind my ears and crawl to him. Without hesitation, Jonas yanks me into his lap and releases a shuddering breath against my throat. He pulls back, tugging the neck of the T-shirt down a bit, cursing under his breath.
“And now he’s done this to you. Hurt you—”
“No,” I interject, gripping his chin. “I did that. He had no part in it, except that he threatened me with it in the first place.”
His violet eyes are wide as they roam over my face, and he squeezes my hips. “You burned my initial into your skin?”
I nod, biting my lip as his gaze seems to darken.
“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that he tried to take you from me.” His hand skims along my spine, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“But he didn’t.”
“The impact does not negate intent, in this case. I want him to suffer.”
Nodding again, I realize I’m barely even paying him any attention. My body’s so content, fit tight and snug against his after the uncertainty from this evening, and my heart feels so fucking full that nothing else is really registering.
“Lenny.” He stills my hips, which I didn’t notice were even moving until he pinches me. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, swallowing.
And I don’t, really. This isn’t a normal response to trauma—or maybe it is.
Maybe your response has more to do with the circumstances themselves and your personal reaction to them, rather than the rightness of the situation.
My pelvis shifts and I feel him grow thick and stiff beneath me. “Lenny,” he admonishes, and a small vein bulges against his forehead. “Stop it.”
Shaking my head, I reach down and tug the hem of the shirt up my thighs, revealing my bare pussy. Frowning, I give him a look. “Hey. Where’d the lingerie go?”
“Thrown out.”
“Rude. I didn’t even get to see your reaction to it.” I pout, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his white dress shirt, yanking it from his black pants. “Have I ever told you how much I like you in a suit?”
“Maybe tell me when we don’t have an audience, and you’re not in shock or healing from physical wounds.”
I blow a raspberry with my lips, then lean forward and lick the seam of his mouth. Frissons of heat coil tight in my core, and I sit up straighter, looking him directly in the eye. “This will hurt him,” I say, pleading.
“This shouldn’t be about him.”
“It’s not.” When I reach for his belt, he doesn’t stop me. “Just an added bonus.”
He’s silent as I work him free, and I grin when he pops out, heavy in my palm. Preston starts making noises, struggling against his binds, but I don’t bother looking at him.
Just like I didn’t want the brand tainted, I don’t want this moment to have his presence stained on it.
With a resigned sigh, Jonas grunts, lifting me up. He fists his cock, positioning it at my entrance, grinning when he slips a finger through my arousal.
“Are you ever not wet for me, love?” I shake my head, and he blows out a breath. “Tell me you want this.”
“I do. I need it.”
The tip pushes in, fishing a gasp from my throat. He stretches slow, so fucking slow, keeping his eyes on mine.
“Tell me you belong to me. That you’re sorry for running off.”
“Well, I’m not really sorry for that, though.” I pause, and his brows furrow. “I got you back in the house, didn’t I? And here we are, finishing wars that never should’ve belonged to us in the first place.”
Grunting, he shunts in deeper, and my fingers claw his neck. I wish I could make my home in his bones, but I suppose this is as good as it gets for now.
“It was stupid and reckless,” he says, and I’m not sure if he thinks that I planned to be kidnapped, or what, but I also don’t care. The only thing that matters is the way he feels pushing into me, fucking me slow, sending me off the edge of oblivion already.
“Our entire relationship was based on stupid and reckless.”
He bottoms out, and I let out a ragged moan as sparks collect in my core, pulsing outward. Rolling my hips, I tilt them so my clit grinds against his pelvis, and his head lolls back.
“We have about thirty minutes before the police show up. After I had the power cut, they were called,” he says, guiding my movements, taking me faster and harder. “Be a good girl and make me come, okay? I want to fill you while that piece of shit watches, and then I want to slit his bloody throat for ever touching you in the first place.”
My nods are fervent, matching the feverish pace I set. I slam down over and over onto his cock, the force of my thrusts so powerful that I can feel him in my chest.