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“Are you one of Baxter’s experiments?” The man leans down until his breath skims the bridge of my nose. “A new toy, perhaps?”
Indecision wars within me, but I settle on the truth. “No. He hates me.”
The man’s smirk spreads into a grin. “Excellent. Then you’re all mine.”
My blood, fueled by my panic, roars in my ears. The sound blends with the rushing of his, brought on by the man’s excitement. I cover his hand holding the cane lodged against my throat and use the other to grab his wrist as his fingers trail along my ribcage.
A burst of energy floods me.
The man hisses in pain and halts all movement. Except for his eyes. They scrutinize me, traveling over every inch of my face.
“What delightful torture is this?” he whispers. His grin turns maniacal, and the gleam in his gaze begins to sparkle. “A magical sadist? Dare I say my dreams have come true?”
He shoves the cane against my neck, bruising the tender skin there and forcing a cough from me. I wheeze, fighting the crushing of my airways while trying to remain standing. My flight-or-fight response from before intensifies at the waning oxygen, and I dig my nails into his skin.
“Yes,” he hisses, his eyelids fluttering closed. “More.”
I focus on my need to survive, to be free of him. The blood coursing through his body calls to me, every drop a soldier ready to receive and execute my command. I give the order.
The man’s hold on me loosens at the same time he grunts. The sound is a mixture of ecstasy and agony. It stirs something within me.
Something I can’t andwon’tgive voice to.
“So fucking good,” he groans. He thrusts his hips into mine, his cock pressing against my belly. “Make it hurt, little bird.”
My blood sings.
My nipples harden.
My pussy flutters.
The man grinds into me as I hold onto his hand and wrist, his movements growing in speed and ferocity. I’m taking us to the precipice, to the edge of somewhere I’ve never been. He’s more than eager to jump, but I’m teetering, my fear attempting to stay me.
A gentle breeze in the wrong direction would be my undoing.
“Lucien, at least take her upstairs if you plan to fuck her. And why does everyone think they can just show up at my house uninvited?”
Baxter’s voice freezes me like being dropped into the arctic, but Lucien only slows the gyration of his hips. He continues to swivel them, stroking me with the length of his cock while I peer around him, looking to Baxter for help.
It’s a wasted effort.
His gaze finds mine, and the hatred burns brighter than before. Now it’s an inferno. I can’t hear the cadence of his heart, not with mine beating crazily and Lucien’s filling my ears. However, I’d bet it’s racing with his anger.
“Hello there, Baxter,” Lucien says without turning around. “Care to join us?”
With our gazes fused, Baxter isn’t able to shield me from seeing his response to the sexual invitation. He blinks twice, right before sucking in a breath. I drop my focus to the bulge in his pants and bite my lip at the way his cock strains against the material.
He wants to say yes.
Verybadly.
“No.” Baxter shakes his head. Whether that’s to enforce his decision or to convince himself, I’m not sure. All I know is that he’s lying to himself and us. “What I want is for you to release her, Lucien. I promised my brother to help the woman retrieve her memories, and I can’t do that while you hump her against my front door.”
Lucien looks at Baxter over his shoulder with a smirk. “So you say. Very well.” The raven-haired man swings his gaze to me, the weight of his stare pinning me in place just as effectively as his cane at my throat. “Don’t fly away, little bird. I have much in store for you.”
He steps back, and my knees buckle. I slam my palms against the wood to keep from disgracing myself and falling to the floor. Lucien watches me, his head tilted and his lips twitching.
“You are such a delicate thing,” he whispers.
