Page 47 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
“Anything. I’ll do anything you tell me to,” I say, the words leaving me in a rush.
“Good.”
“My baby?” I’m barely able to get the words out. He’s only a month old. My little one.
“He’s fine.” He has the decency to pull his eyes away from me as he speaks. “He’s taken care of, and you’ll be with him soon.”
Hope rises along with an eagerness to get to my baby.
“Come here,” Connor commands and I don’t hesitate. Unsure of whether I should stand or crawl, I crawl, lifting the torn nightgown and balling the fabric in my fists. The floor isn’t gentle on my knuckles but I don’t care.
It’s not until I get to the bars that he tells me, “You could have walked.”
Embarrassment colors my cheeks and just as I look up at him to tell him I don’t know what he wants, he reaches through the bars, and his strong fingers wrap around my throat.
Instinctively my hands reach up to his, and I instantly regret it.
He isn’t tight with his grip, just firm, not so much that I feel the need to fight. Slowly, reluctantly, I lower my hands. All the while his amber gaze blazes and keeps me still.
“Stand,” he tells me and I do as he wishes.
A chill filters through and my nipples harden; the thin gown does nothing to hide that fact. Staring down at the veins in his arms, I attempt to hide the shame of what comes over me.
“You know what I want from you, don’t you?” he questions, his breath low and not hiding his desire.
I attempt to nod without looking up at him, but his grip tightens and my eyes flash to his.
“Yes,” I answer in a whisper.
My heart pounds as heat floods through me with the way he looks at me. It’s the same way he looked at me years ago, before the war, before the bloodshed, before he became the man he is today. Years ago when we were reckless and life hadn’t taught us how harsh it could be.
His hand loosens just enough for his thumb to brush along my bottom lip, prompting me to open my mouth.
“Suck,” he murmurs this time and I do as I’m told. The roughness of his skin begs me to scrape my teeth along it and I do. I suck the taste of him, I press my tongue against him and give him exactly what I know he wants.
It’s only when my eyes close that he pulls away, leaving me standing there with the bars between us and a power imbalance that puts me at his mercy.
He reaches into his pocket for the key, and plays with it between his thumb and pointer, as if debating.
My pulse rampages but before I can beg for anything from this man, he tells me, “Your child needs you. Get him back to sleep, then you’ll come to me. Understand?”
CONNOR
Voices come through the back door as I move through the house. My brother and three of our men are outside, having a smoke. Their cigarettes are orange flares in the dark. The wood beneath my feet doesn’t creak to announce my presence. They don’t hear me getting closer to the door.
I pause to listen. At times their voices are muffled by the sound of the vengeful wind. In general, they’re not paying attention. The men talk freely among themselves, not bothering to give the surrounding woods more than a cursory glance. It’s not the woods they should be worried about. It’s me.
After years of working for me, and knowing how close to the edge I’ve been, they should be more than aware of that fact.
Their lack of attention will play into my hands, but it frustrates me just the same. I haven’t had the luxury of letting my guard down.
Most people have no guard at all, even the men who are supposed to. They can’t keep their mouths shut. A man who can listen is always better off. That’s what it takes to survive in the world today. You have to keep track of what’s going on around you, even with people you claim to trust.
I don’t trust anyone. Least of all the men outside. My brother is the only one who deserves my trust, and he’s the only one who will get it. Everyone else is expendable. Everyone else can be replaced in a heartbeat. The vast majority of the world simply takes up space until someone has a better use for it.
I wouldn’t have thought that when I was younger. I had softer ideas about the value of human life. Now, I don’t give a fuck.
Except when it comes to my new captive and prize.