Page 200 of The ARC Unit: Breach

“Crawl, Mercer.”

I looked down at the floor. There was no graceful way to do it. That became obvious almost immediately. I shifted forward on my knees, tried using my shoulder for leverage and nearly tipped sideways.

Wolf said nothing.

When I looked up, those damn eyes were still fixed on me through the opening of his mask.

“You enjoying this?”

“Keep moving.”

“Asshole.”

His fingers tapped once against the side of his face.

“Crawl.”

I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself.

Instead, I lowered my head.

The floor was cold against my cheek when I turned my face sideways and used my knees to push myself forward. Without my hands, I had to drag the rest of my body after them, shoulders working awkwardly while my bound wrists stayed against my lower back. There was nothing remotely sexy about the mechanics of it. I felt ridiculous.

Wolf kept his eyes on me as I pushed again, grunting as my cheek brushed the floor before I managed another few inches.

“Look how fucking pathetic you are,” he said. “All that attitude, and now you’re crawling because I told you to.”

“Fuck you,” I muttered.

His eyes narrowed.

“Crawl.”

I dragged myself forward again.

By the time I reached his boots, my face was burning hot enough to make the cold floor almost welcome. I stopped between his feet and lifted my head just enough to glare at him. Wolf straightened and slid his hand into my hair at the back of my head.

Then he yanked me upright.

A sharp breath escaped me as he brought me onto my knees between his legs, my shoulders brushing the inside of his thighs before he steadied me. His grip stayed firm in my hair for another second before loosening. The change caught me off guard.

His other hand came to my face, rough fingertips tracing my cheek before his thumb passed beneath my eye, over the bump of my nose and back again. For all the aggression it had taken to get me onto the floor, his touch was gentle enough to soften something in my expression.

“Good?”

I nodded.

Wolf’s hand stopped moving against my cheek.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I’m good.”

His palm cracked across my face hard enough to snap my head to the side.

For half a second I stayed there, stunned, cheek burning beneath the sharp bloom of heat. My pulse kicked violently, and a sound I had not meant to make slipped out through my teeth. The embarrassment from the floor was still sitting under my skin, but this cut straight through it, leaving me painfully aware of his power, of my bound wrists, of how completely he had my attention.

I turned my face back slowly.