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My breath caught with those words. I’d never heard London talk like that, never heard him so…fierce. Was that how he felt? I wanted to find the truth in his stare, but I didn’t dare move. Not now. Not when Carven’s grip was a vise around my wrist.
He sucked in hard breaths, then lowered his gaze to the black shirt I wore. “You want me to tear your clothes off, Wildcat? Want me to be an animal?”
“Yes.”
There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he released my wrist and dropped his hand to his waist. One flick and the light bounced off the steel blade.
“How about I cut them off instead?”
He slipped the tip of the blade under the hem of my shirt. One sudden jerk and the fabric split, slicing all the way. Panic ripped through me. My heart lunged, slamming against my ribs.
“Still trust me?” he asked, using the tip of the knife to flick each side of the ruined garment aside, exposing my pink bra.
“Yes.” My voice was husky.
“Liar,” he whispered, pushing the tip of the knife up the valley of my breasts, just under the lace.
He reached up and grasped the bridge between the cups, gripping it as he jerked the knife toward him and yanked me forward. Cold air rushed in and my nipples tightened from the icy whisper of air and excitement. My clit throbbed. I didn’t understand my emotions. If it was anyone else, I’d be terrified. But not them. Not my men.
Carven yanked, tearing the shredded shirt and bra free before casting them aside. I didn’t dare look to London as Carven lowered his gaze to my jeans. “Want me to cut those off too?”
I shook my head. “Why don’t you take me to the bed?”
There was a hint of a smile before he bent and grabbed me around the thighs once more, only this time with one arm. He carried me to the massive bed. London’s machine waited at the foot, the steel gleaming. Wind buffeted my hair as I was flung backward, hitting the bed with a bounce.
My boots were yanked free and tossed to the floor. The button on my jeans popped, and the zipper was yanked low before I even realized. I shoved my jeans over my hips, lifting my ass. In the blink of an eye, I was in nothing more than pink lace panties.
Carven loomed over the edge of the bed, staring down at me, the knife still in his hands. “What makes you wet, Wildcat?” he asked, before he slipped the knife in between his teeth and lunged, grasped both my ankles, and pulled me down the bed.
I thrashed in his grasp, my gaze riveted to that blade in his mouth. He reached up, took it in his hand, and lowered it between my legs. “Is it fear?” Cold steel pressed against my skin, the tip gently dragging along my slit.
I didn’t dare move. I pinned my lip with my teeth, closing my eyes at the fine pressure.
“Open them,” he demanded. “Look at me.”
I did, finding that icy stare. He said I was dangerous. But Carven was the deadliest male I knew. He killed without thinking and with little to no remorse. He strangled, he beat, he stabbed and shot. He unleashed that never-ending pit of fury through his hands and yet as he lowered his gaze to the tip of the knife he pressed against my clit, I also knew deep down he loved just as savagely.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you with everything I have.”
He jerked his gaze to mine. Panic flared for a second before that darkness rose to snatch it away. It was that darkness that called to me. That darkness I craved.
“That’s good, Wildcat.” He eased the tip of the knife to the side and pressed, slipping it under the elastic at the side. “Good for the both of us. Because I love you too, and my love is forever.” I jerked as he sliced through the lace. His fingers traced the cut, yanking the rest of the lace out before he cut the rest of the way through. “Now, let’s see if I made you wet, shall we?” His finger slipped into the crease and slid all the way down until he pushed inside. “Look at that.”
He eased his finger free, lifting it to shine in the light. “How’s that, London?” He looked at the man who’d raised him. “Was I animal enough?”
London just cleared his throat. “Do you want the machine, pet?”
I shifted my gaze to him at the foot of the bed, watching as he pulled the case free of the machine, then extracted the dildo and connected it. My core clenched at the sight, leaving Carven to slide his fingers back inside, feeling the slick. “Christ, I think that’s a yes.”
Snap.
The attachment slid into place. I lifted my arms over my head on instinct, giving over to them.
“Move her over,” London commanded.
Strong hands slipped under my back and thighs, dragging me across the bed. Carven reached up and grasped my throat gently as the whirr of the machine started, making me catch my breath.
“You like this, Wildcat?” he asked, staring deep into my eyes. “You like giving yourself to us?”
