Glaring down at the woman, I barely stop myself from pulling her pants down and burying my face in her pussy. Reminding her who she belongs to—who she owns, even as she sleeps.
After taking her on the desk, I figured this was over. I felt her come on my dick, I heard her scream my name; I watchedmeleak down her bare legs as she left. She gripped me like she did all those years ago—it might not have put us back in that spot, but it was the first step.
I know she remembered. I know she fucking enjoyed it. I know she’s mine.
But this fucking tool is still texting her. Sending sweet words of bullshit to the woman who owns my heart? Like she isn’t drooling on my leg, as if he has any right to this?
I read the text again and throw the phone. This fucker, with his loafers and pleasant smile, thinks he has a right to her. That he’s allowed to touch her—that I’m herfuckingbrother.
She had balls of steel to call me herbrotherin front of this dick.
Brothers don’t feel the way I do about her. Brothers don’t offer unholy sacrifices to evil gods for one chance to lick their sister’s pussy. Not the way I do—not the way I have—the way I crave to do so again.
It’s almost a crime I haven’t tasted her in so long. That will change.
The phone hits the wall, and I sit back, grumbling under my breath. I need to try harder—make Maeve remember what we were like.
I’ll fuck her raw until she’s fucking filled with my cum, then strip every piece ofReese’sskin where it brushes against her. I’m the only person alive who knows what she feels like—the only person she’ll love.
If I have to force her under me, on top of me—fuck if I have to give her my knife and let her carve me up until I’m nothing but shredded pieces, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine again—to feel her soul beside mine once more.
Because as much as she belongs to me, I belong to her. If I don’t touch her, see her smile, hear her laugh, or see someone else touch her, I’ll wither away to nothing.
“Killian.”
Glancing up, I instinctively place a hand on Maeve’s back.
“Liam.”
The pretty blonde stands there, his baby blues sweeping over his captain before landing on me. With large shoulders and a thick neck, he makes an impressive foot soldier.
Once upon a time, he used to warm my bed. A quick fuck, he was someone to take the edge off after hard missions. Or as a substitute for the one person I wanted.
When I finally tasted Maeve, no one else compared. I cut ties, ignored texts, and never let my eyes drift from her. No one could tame the devil in my heart the way she could.
She’s my keeper, and I never denied it.
His eyes scan my body, hunger darkening his eyes.
“See something you like?”
He grins. “Actually?—”
“Rhetorical question,” I say curtly. “What?”
“I have a message for her.” He crosses his arms. “It’s important.”
“If you wake her,” I warn, voice deadly, “I’ll rip your tongue out of your mouth andeatit.”
I’ll be damned if I let some fucking dick disturb her.
A sad smile crosses his face. “Still have a thing for her, huh, Reaper?”
Athing? Teens have things for their girlfriends who they fuck behind the bleachers. A thing is what Bruno has for his new favorite, who turns him into a deranged mush pile with a hard-on for being walked all over.
What I have for Maeve is so much deeper. It’s consuming, near suffocating in the pressure that sits on my chest when she’s in the room andwon’t look at me.It’s exhilarating when she smiles, and I can bask in it, like moonlight behind a heavy cloud. And it’s fucking soul-crushing when she looks at me, and I see that I’ve broken something sacred inside her.
Whatever this is—love, lust, obsession—it’s not athing. It’s the endless abyss of death and the scorching burn of new life. It’s everything—and nothing at all.
