An emotion so potent, it lingers in the air and strikes me in my bones.
Wrath.
It drips off Jeremy in a deranged manner as he clutches Steven with apparent nonchalance but hidden rage.
The type that simmers beneath the surface and has dire consequences.
“Fuck off.” He throws Steven away as if he were no different than a useless rag.
Larry, who was behind me, goes to his friend’s side and casts a fearful look in our direction, probably recognizing Jeremy.
And while he’s not prone to violence in public, except for when it’s in the fighting ring, anyone on the island knows he’s not one to be messed with.
Even I know that.
And I still went to his mansion that first time. Sometimes, I hate and admire that version of me in equal measure.
Slowly, the stiffness unlocks from my muscles, but I remain frozen in place, for a completely different reason.
The fact that Jeremy is here. In public. Not attempting to hide our acquaintance.
Steven starts in our direction again, brushing off Larry who’s trying to hold him back.
“We were here first,” he snarls in Jeremy’s face, obviously not reading the atmosphere, and probably not recognizing him.
Jeremy drives his fist into Steven’s face so hard that the people surrounding us gasp.
He falls to the floor, clutching his bleeding nose and wailing.
“I said.” Jeremy towers over him. “Fuck. Off. Touch her again and a bleeding nose will be the least of your worries.”
Larry tries to help his friend up as he screams over the music, “Security! Security!”
Suddenly, a muscular blond guy appears behind them. The guard whom Annika said is called Ilya and acts as Jeremy’s senior guard.
He shares a look with Jeremy, then he singlehandedly drags both Steven and Larry out by a grip on the collars of their shirts.
And just like that, I’m left all alone with a beast of a man who’s staring at me as if he wants to throttle me.
Yes, there are people around us, lots of them, but they might as well be invisible under the invading scrutiny of his gaze.
He steps forward, killing the distance between us and crushing his chest against my breasts. My heart hammers as my nose fills with his scent.
It’s impossible to be unaffected when I’m overwhelmed by his warmth, presence, and that enchanting look in his ash eyes.
Silence hangs between us for a few intense seconds, and I resist the urge to blurt something incoherent. Then all of a sudden, he grabs hold of my elbow and basically shoves his way off of the dance floor, dragging me behind him. I have to jog to keep up with his long strides, and that just puts more pressure on my assaulted feet.
But it’s impossible to end this hurricane or to escape the wrath that’s radiating off him in waves.
He storms down the hall and stops in front of a room that’s guarded by a man in a black suit.
Upon seeing us, he nods at Jeremy and opens the leather-studded door. Jeremy barely nods at the man before he drags me inside and swings the door shut.
All the chaos, music, and chatter from outside dies down. My heavy breathing becomes loud in the silence of what I think is a VIP room.
Two elegant velvet sofas sit opposite each other with a glass coffee table between them.
But I barely focus on the details when Jeremy slams me against the wall. The aggressive energy from earlier multiplies tenfold as his large hand grips me by the hip and his deep, angry-calm voice strikes me like a whip.
“Not only did you refuse to keep your side of the bargain and show up, but you also turned off your phone, wore fuck-me clothes, and came here to dance with some assholes.” His hand slides to where my dress stops at my thighs. “Did you think anyone else could touch you, Cecily? Hmm? That someone else would be able to put their fucking hands on what’s mine?”
Hand bunching in the material, he yanks the dress up in one go, making me gasp. “I’ll cut their wrists off before they come near my cunt.” He rips my underwear off and throws the shreds aside, then digs his fingers into my skin. “My ass.” He flings me against him and his jeans create friction against my stimulated core. “My fucking property.”
I bang a hand on his chest, lips trembling, as the onslaught of emotions and erotic stimuli rushes over me. “I’m not your property, Jeremy. I’m a person.”
“My person,” he nearly growls the words. “Next time you let anyone touch you, I’ll fuck you in their blood and make you come all over their corpse.”
In a swift movement, he frees his cock and bumps the crown against my clit.