Page 33 of Prey

“Not your what?” Darius leans forward. “Come on, share with the class.”

My phone buzzes in Damon’s pocket. He doesn’t move to give it back.

“You know what your problem is?” Marcus sets down his pool cue. “You’ve forgotten you’re allowed to want things. We’re all guilty of it at times.”

“I want plenty.”

“Name one thing,” Theon challenges. “One thing you want that isn’t about hunting down names on a list.”

I want to fuck Jenna until she screams. Want to mark her, own her, keep her.

“Silence speaks volumes,” Ezra observes.

“Maybe he wants us to shut up,” Lucien suggests.

“Maybe he wants his phone back to check on his girlfriend,” Darius grins.

They’re getting too close to the truth. These assholes know me too well, and can read the tension in my shoulders.

“You’re all drunk,” I deflect.

“Not drunk enough,” Dominic counters. “Neither are you.”

“Here.” Raphael slides a fresh glass across the bar. “Doctor’s orders.”

I take it because it’s easier than arguing. The scotch burns, but not enough to wash away the memory of Jenna on her knees, looking up at me.

11

JENNA

My eyes snap open to the concrete ceiling and fluorescent light. The sheets stick to my skin with sweat, twisted around my legs from thrashing through another dream. Another dream abouthim.

This time, he had me bent over the sink, that mask still hiding his face while he fucked me from behind. His fingertips bruising my hips, that piercing dragging against places inside me I never knew existed.

I press my thighs together, feeling how wet I am.

Again.

“Fuck.” The word echoes off the walls of my cell.

I sit up, running fingers through my tangled hair. How long has it been? He brings food three times a day—or so I assume. By that count, it’s been at least ten days since Nikolai made me come on his fingers after I sucked his cock.

Ten days of him bringing my meals, setting the tray down, and leaving without a word. Ten days of me trying every angle—stretching when he enters so my shirt rides up, bending over to pick things up, letting the blanket slip when I pretend to be asleep naked. I took off my clothes since they’re dirty anddecided to walk around naked. And five times now, Nikolai has taken me to a shower and allowed me to wash.

Nothing.

He won’t even look at me properly anymore. Just deposits the food and leaves like I’m radioactive.

But I know what I felt. The way his whole body went rigid when I said his name. The way his breathing changed when he had his fingers inside me. The way he called mebabywas like the word was ripped from somewhere deep.

My hand drifts between my legs before I can stop it. I’m so sensitive, so constantly wound up that just the light pressure makes me gasp.

Ten days of dreams. Ten days of waking up desperate and aching. Ten days of getting myself off in this concrete box, trying to stay quiet even though I know he’s probably watching through his cameras.

Sometimes I wonder if he is somewhere in this building with his cock in his hand, getting off to the sight of me fingering myself on his surveillance feed. The thought should disgust me.

Instead, it makes me wetter.