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His teeth clenched and his breath released on a hiss.
“Trying to learn some new tricks,” she murmured. “What do you think of that?” Her inner grip relaxed only for her to tighten around him again.
What did he think?
He surged up to his feet.
“Midas!” Her hands flew to curl around his shoulders.
He took three steps forward. Trapped her between the wall and his body. And he fucked her. Fast and hard. Long and driving. Over and over as she writhed against him. His cock worked her. His gaze locked on her face. He wanted to see the pleasure turn her eyes blind. He wanted to see the way she looked when he obliterated everything else in her world.
He wanted to see the way she looked when she had her orgasm. The pleasure on her face that was for him alone. He pounded into her. Waited, waited—
When she came, when the pleasure made her eyes go even darker and flushed her cheeks, when her sex squeezed and squeezed, he let go and spilled deep inside of her.
He held her tight. His mouth pressed to her shoulder. His body shuddered. Her scent was on him. Her touch burned into him.
Mine.
Alina had given herself fully to him. Alina who was good and bright. She’d given herself to him. She wouldn’t have fucked a monster. She’d waited her whole life for the right partner.
She would not fuck a monster.
Not her.
He needed that knowledge. He had to hold it tight, just the way he held her. Because when he went into the cage with the devil, he needed some kind of talisman against the dark.
***
“Is this going to work?” Alina stared through the glass. A one-way mirror. She’d been taken through the corridors of the penitentiary, and she’d tried hard not to show her fear. As soon as she and Midas had pulled up outside, though, she’d been afraid.
The imposing walls. The barbed wire. The armed guards. It was all far beyond her normal life.
DA Terrance Peters had met them at the entrance. He’d supervised their search before entry. Alina’s personal belongings had been secured, as had Midas’s. They’d been led through what felt like a twisting maze. Guards had been in front and behind them. Henry Monroe’s lawyer—a sharply dressed man named Xander Palmer with close-cropped hair, a serious expression, and slightly nervous hands—had met them once they finally reached this little room.
An observation room.
They could see through the glass. But the people just beyond the glass? Those people couldn’t see in.
Midas was in the room beyond the glass. He’d gone in there with Xander. Two guards had left to collect Henry Monroe and bring him to the meeting.
“I’m surprised he wants you to see this,” Terrance said.
She turned at his low voice.
“Midas, that is.” His stare slid over her, and she knew that he was taking in every detail of her appearance.
Do I look like I spent the night wrecking a bed with Midas? She didn’t think so. Alina had taken special care with her appearance. Her hair was pulled back into a twist. She’d applied light makeup. Some blush to make sure she didn’t look too pale. A small swipe of lipstick. She wore black pants and a white top. A turtleneck. It hid the faint mark Midas had left on her neck.
She’d removed the bandages from her wrists and ankles. Red marks still covered her skin, but the bandages weren’t necessary. I’m healing. She was. Getting stronger every moment. Putting the closet and the damn darkness behind her.
Seeing Kiera had been a brutal wake-up. Alina didn’t want to let her fear trap her. She wanted to live.
And I felt so alive with Midas last night. She’d actually never felt more alive, never felt happier, at any point. Not even when she’d won her first national title.
“He’s your bodyguard, isn’t he? Saw the story on the news about how he saved you after the abduction.”
Her head turned back toward the one-way mirror. A small table waited in that room. A table with three chairs. One for Midas—he sat in it with his back stiff and straight. One for Xander—he perched on the edge of his seat as his fingers tapped along the top of the table. The third seat was empty. For the moment.
