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“Good girl.” His fingers move to the nape of my neck, stroking me there. That same empty space he likes to touch, as if he could imagine his crest imprinted on my skin. “That’s a good girl, Mercedes.”
My lip trembles under his praise, and I can’t tell what it’s for. Is it for telling him the truth? Or not giving myself to Theron like he thought I had?
He moves then, palming my ass as he drags his cock back out an inch, groaning at the sight of what he just took from me.
“That’s good,” he murmurs again. “That’s mine, little monster. All. Fucking. Mine.”
The last words are barely audible, but I feel it in the way he touches me now. The way he leans his body over mine, rocking into me slowly as he eases the discomfort with soothing words whispered low. He feels so huge inside me. So deep. And I like it. I like it very much.
“Please, Judge,” I beg.
“Shhh, I know.” He brings one of his palms around to my front, massaging my breast while the other slides down to my clit. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes, please,” I whine.
I want to ask him if he means always. If he means that I belong to him now. But those thoughts get lost as he starts to rub his fingers over my body, playing me like a master of his craft. The pressure intensifies as he starts to thrust into me in earnest, his hips colliding against my ass. It feels so intense I want to scream his name over and over, and when I do, it stirs him into a frenzy.
“Nobody else touches you this way,” he grunts. “Tell me you understand.”
“I do,” I pant. “Just you. Only you.”
He groans into my ear, kissing his way down my neck before he drags his teeth over the delicate skin. And that’s what sends me over the edge. I cry out as I begin to convulse around him, and he holds me up, riding me harder, faster, his own body on the verge of giving out. Then with a thunderous roar, he drags his cock out of me at the last second, fisting it as he milks out his release, shooting his come across my back.
When it’s over, the sound of our ragged breaths is all that remains, and I turn to look up at him. I’m half hopeful, half terrified of what I might see. Confusion flickers across his face as he glances down at the scene before him, as if he doesn’t understand how it just happened. And then his eyes move to mine, and any warmth I felt from him evaporates.
“You got what you wanted,” he says coldly as he rises to his feet and stares down at me. “You’re a ruined woman now. Nobody will want to marry you. Not even Theron.”
31
Judge
What have I done?
I take one last look at her half twisted on the bed, hair in tangles, face flushed, forehead beaded with sweat. On her back, the evidence of the beast within tearing its way to the surface. Staining her thighs and the once-white sheets is the undeniable truth of what I took. The one thing forbidden to me. The one woman.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Judge?” she starts when I can finally drag my gaze from the mess I’ve made to look at her. To see her confusion.
Without a word, I walk out of her room, still fully naked, and into mine. I go into the bathroom and switch on the shower. While water steams from the shower stall, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Rake my hands through my hair.
What the fuck have I done?
I glance down at myself. See the smear of red on my dick, my thighs, my stomach. Her virgin blood. I took it. It wasn’t mine to take, but I took it all the same.
And I don’t know what I’m thinking as I step into the shower. It’s not as though washing it off will erase it from having happened. It doesn’t matter how hot the water is. How it scalds.
The beast rattles inside me as my mind replays what just happened. As I remember how wet she was when I dipped my cock inside her. How tight when I took her, breaking her seal with a single punishing thrust. She deserved to be punished. That I won’t deny. But fuck, I lost control tonight. Coming home to see them like that. See my brother in my house and them sitting so fucking close together on the loveseat. Flirting. Fucking flirting right under my nose. When he casually twirled her hair at dinner, it took all I had not to leap across the table, tackle him to the ground and beat the shit out of him.
I have to give it to my mother. She’s clever. Inviting Hildebrand. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing with him present.
Distaste curls my lip. My mother is a manipulative bitch. The way she talked to Mercedes with that fake sweetness. She hates her—hates the entire family but her specifically, if only because she was born into her status. Born a De La Rosa. She hated Mercedes’s mother too, before she passed. Did Mercedes see that, or is she fooled? She’s clever, too, Mercedes. She’ll see through her. For her sake, I hope she does.
Margot Montgomery is a conniving, greedy, jealous woman. She’s a puppet master in her own right. Now that Grandfather is dead and Theron is back, she’s gained some backbone. She wants back into the house. She wants to rule.
Those things, however, will not be allowed.
I know her game. She has been patient. They both have. They knew the old man wouldn’t live forever. And my fist is not so much made of iron as his was. At least it hasn’t been. But that changes now. This instant.
