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“Carter,” he answered. “The man with the whip.”
She inhaled sharply, gaze jerking up to meet his.
“You have him here?”
“Yes.”
“I want to see him.”
“Eventually,” Fletch promised. “Once we get the rest of the information we need out of him.”
“I can help with that.”
“He put those fucking scars on your body,” her mate snarled.
“He can’t hurt me here,” she reminded them both. “You don’t have to protect me from him.”
Fletch growled, pacing away then back.
“I’m trying to make sure we get everything we need from him, honey. I can’t do that if you’re in the room with him.”
“Why the hell not?” she exclaimed as she came to her feet.
Fletch stepped into her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled until her body was flush against his.
“Because I swear to God if I see him even look at you, I’ll rip him apart limb from limb. I can control it when it’s just me. With you there. I won’t be able to separate what we need from what he did. I’ll kill him, Helen. So help me, I’ll rip his still beating heart from his chest and shove it down his throat.”
Helen blinked, feeling his corded muscles taut with tension and rage as he held her against him.
“Okay,” she soothed, running her hands up and down his arms, over his shoulders. She nuzzled her nose against his neck, rubbing against him as she continued to caress him. “What about any others?”
“There’s no one left from where we found you,” he muttered. “The few others we still have are from places we went to after you were found.”
She wiggled a hand between them so she could stroke over his chest, running her hand down until she could snug her fingers under his shirt and touch skin. She could tell he’d gone to a dark place in his head. Whether he was imagining what had happened to her or what he’d do to Carter, she wasn’t sure. She only knew she needed to pull him out of it.
“I need you.”
She licked his throat then sucked the skin lightly.
“Yes,” he agreed, dropping his hands to cup her ass and lift her higher against him.
“Here?” she whispered in between kisses. “Or in the bedroom, in front of the mirror?”
He jerked her up with a groan, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.
“Quick,” he grunted as he set her on her feet and made quick work of dragging off her clothes before turning her to face the mirror. “Fast.”
“Yes,” she agreed, widening her stance and tilting her hips in offering.
The glide of his zipper was followed by the sound of denim being roughly pushed down. Then he was behind her, in her, and slamming deep.
“Fuck!” she screamed, and he paused, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. She reached back and dug her nails into his thigh. “Don’t stop.”
Once he seemed satisfied she hadn’t cried out in pain, he began a fast pace that had her moaning and clawing at him and the wood she was bent over. One big hand came around and caught her breast, squeezing it before his fingers closed in on her nipple, pinching and tugging to the rhythm set by his hips.
“Oh, God! Fletch!”
He said nothing, panting hard as she belted out her release for the world to hear. As soon as she went boneless underneath him, he pulled out, lifting her and carrying her to the bed.
