“He did. But you’re safe now.”
“Y-You killed him.”
“He was going to hurt you.”
She snivels and buries her head deeper into my chest. “I know.”
Staring down at her, I use my thumb to tilt her head up to me. “You need to do what I say from now on, Little Brat. Let me keep you safe.”
Her eyes flash with confidence. “I will.”
“Good, because we have a body to move.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THEA
When Massio said we had a body to move, what he meant was he had a body to move, and I had to stay in the SUV.
He threw the man in the trunk as if he weighed nothing, then informed me he would be delivering him to his brother so he could do some background checks on him before disposing of the body on our behalf.
I’m officially an accessory to murder.
Yet all I can think about is how Massio’s broad body protected me with ease, like it was second nature to him. The man didn’t stand a chance. He truly is my bodyguard, my protector, and in this moment, my everything.
He lifts me from the SUV, scooping me into his arms bridal style, and when his eyes land on mine, there’s a softness in them that was absent before.
“Are you going to be my good girl, Little Brat?” he asks, carrying me up the stairs.
“Always,” I whisper, meaning it.
Relief washes over his handsome face, and I delight in the fact that I put it there. Then I place a kiss on his neck, and he snaps his eyes down to mine, studying me so hard my heart skips a beat.
My body screams that he’s mine.
He kicks open my bedroom door and slams it behind him, snapping me out of my thoughts. Then he licks his lips, and his soft gaze turns hungry as his eyes roam over my face and down the column of my neck, locking on my choker.
“Are you going to let me put my ring on there?” he rasps.
There’s something building between us; he’s waiting for my approval.
He wants me to wear his ring around my neck.
Holy shit, that’s hot.
I swallow past the lump gathered in my throat.
Jesus, do I want that. Want him.
“Please,” I whimper.
His lips twitch. “Good girl.” Slowly, he lowers me to the floor, and I hate that I miss his touch already, his protection.
Reaching behind my neck, he unclips the choker and slides his ring from his finger to replace the current ring. I tip my head to allow him to clip the choker back in its place, and when he turns away from me, my shoulders sag. My body craves him, and I long to please him, to climb into his arms and feel his strong muscles against me.
He shrugs out of his jacket and throws it onto the bed, then drags the chair from my vanity table out and positions it in the far corner of the room before sitting on it. He widens his muscular thighs, and my mouth waters as he lifts his blood-splattered T-shirt over his head and drops it to the carpet.
He points down at the floor. “Kneel.”
