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“Yes?”
“I want you to come too.”
SEVENTEEN
Vivienne
Carven suddenly heaved me upwards until I landed over his shoulder. My heart lunged, trapped in my throat as he headed to the doorway, then stopped.
I gripped his arm, holding onto his rock-hard muscles, and lifted my head, finding London behind us.
“London.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to come too.”
One brow rose as London met my panicked stare. “Of course.”
Still, that didn’t ease the tension inside me. Carven wouldn’t hurt me, that I was sure of…but he’d never taken me into that room.
Long strides made me bounce against his shoulder. London was a blur behind us, still he was there, holding my stare, until I couldn’t hold my body up anymore and eased my hold. I flopped back down, my hand around his bicep as he headed to the east wing and past our bedrooms.
I hadn’t been in this room, not with London, or by myself. But the moment Carven turned the handle and stepped in, the basement in our other house came rushing back to me.
The smell of leather was the same. The cold air made my nerves hum. Lights flicked on, softly illuminating the room. Strong hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down. I slid along his body until he stopped the fall, easing my feet to the floor.
Those blue eyes searched mine. Stark blond hair, an unflinching stare. Carven made even the biggest men I knew uncomfortable by his presence alone. ‘The Son.’ That name was spoken by a few, but those who spoke it knew exactly what they were. Yet this killer stood in front of me now, soft and vulnerable.
He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You trust me, right, Wildcat?”
There was that edge in his voice. That hunger that always made me hesitate before I answered. I felt that hunger now more than ever. This wasn’t about comfort. This was about control, and right now, Carven was spiraling. He needed this, needed to control something for just a moment. He needed to find his way back to himself, and he was going to use my body to do it. I met those deep blue eyes. “With my life.”
He lowered his head until he whispered into my ear. “What about your body, Wildcat? You going to trust me with that?”
My pulse skipped in response and my core tightened. I didn’t need to reach between my legs to know the impact those words had on me. “Yes.”
He gripped my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “Fuck, you’re dangerous.”
Dangerous…me?
I didn’t want to look at his hands, didn’t want to see the blood etched into the corners of his nails, or see the faces of those he’d killed in his stare. Yet I held that stare and realized he wasn’t talking about me being dangerous to everyone else.
Only to him.
I was dangerous to him.
He reached down, snatched my wrist, and jerked it upward as London stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“It’s about her in this room,” he murmured. “All about her. Whatever you're feeling, it no longer matters. Not in this room. Your control comes in her release. Find out what makes her wet. Her body will guide you.”
“I know what makes her wet,” Carven snarled, never once taking his eyes from mine.
“Do you?” London stepped closer, being careful not to touch me.
This was all for Carven.
“Do you know how to crawl under her skin? How to make her wet tomorrow, a week from now, a year from now just remembering what you did to her? I do. You’re all raw power, you’re all stamina. Look deep into her soul, see what she sees. Take her, rip her clothes off, pull her hair if she moans, spread her legs…and let her feel why you’re the animal she wants and needs. Fuck her, protect her. Be everything for her.”
