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“Get off?” I nod slowly, undoing my jeans. “Good idea.”
“Knox.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re a grade-A asshole.”
“Tell me something that’ll make me soft.” I grip my dick through my boxers, and her eyes go down to it. “Try talking down to me again. I dare you. See if it makes a difference.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“You’ll be calling me other things when I’m taking your mouth in the middle of the night. Actually, scratch that, because you won’t be able to talk at all.” I grin at her.
I spit in my hand and get to work. It’s kind of a surreal experience, jacking myself off in front of Aurora like this. I mean, we’ve come a long way since mutual masturbation as teenagers. And making out in cars.
“I’m not sure why you think you’ll have access to my mouth,” she whispers, trying to wiggle free. “Your cock should come with a warning. You know, like those tiny kid toys. Choking hazard.”
“You know all about that,” I groan.
I beat my stick until precum oozes out, and I take it and smear it across her lips without thinking. She exhales sharply, twisting her head away.
“How’s your heart, Aurora?”
“Fine.”
My gaze drops to the scar in the middle of her chest.
Fine.
Doubtful.
“How’s your brother, Knox?”
I stop.
And stare.
And try to figure out if she’sfucking serious.
But the more we glare at each other, the more I realize that she’s succeeded in fucking with my head.
Because I lose my erection as fast as I lost any desire to play nice with Aurora McGovern.
So this time, when I wrap my hand around her throat, I don’t stop squeezing until she’s unconscious.
22
AURORA
Iwake up in a weird position.
I never sleep on my back, with my legs outstretched and my arm above my head. My other one is curled over my stomach. I shift and roll, and there’s a clinking noise that follows me.
How did I get to bed? The last thing I remember is… asking Knox about his brother. Which just kind of came out of me. Mainly because his brother and him are so fucking competitive, and I figured thinking of Miles would be like thinking of a grandma while trying to get off.
It worked, but then he apparently didn’t like that. I swallow carefully, although my throat doesn’t really hurt. Not as much as it does after waking up from being under anesthesia.
I open my eyes, blinking in the darkness.
When I pull my wrist, it doesn’t move. I draw my feet up, but they barely come. I can bend my knees, and then they’re stopped. With my one free hand, I lift the blanket and try to find out what’s trapping me.
Cuffs. Leather ones locked around my ankles. I try to adjust my eyes to the darkness faster, but it’s too much. Just oppressive black that quickens my breath.
