Page 28 of Beast's Wife

“I’ll teach you everything I want you to know. I’ll teach you how to fire a gun, but it will be for you to get away, do you understand me?”

Morgan wanted to argue with him, but she knew it was pointless. Carver at this time had made up his own mind and was being stubborn about it.

“Fine, you can teach me how to shoot and how to run away.” But that didn’t mean she would have to.

“Don’t,” Carver said, wrapping his arms around her waistand pulling her back against him.

She couldn’t help but smile as he pressed his lips against her neck. She loved it when he kissed her there. She gasped, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of him close. The air was crisp and cold. Overnight, a frost had fallen, and although it was past lunchtime, there was still an icy chill in the air, and several patches of ground were frozen.

“Don’t what?” she asked, trying to be innocent and coy.

“I won’t teach you anything else.”

“Okay.” But she had a feeling she might be a little more persuasive.

****

Carver held onto Morgan as they stepped inside the main house.

“Do you think we should be here?” Morgan asked.

Rigel was one of Romone’s main men. He was the one who went out and drew the business in.

He was aware that Rigel wanted to see him punished. This was why he wasn’t invited to this party. It was a small little soiree, with a couple of investors, along with a lot of businessmen, all of which didn’t earn their money through legal means.

Carver was entering the lion’s den. The only problem was, most of the men were nothing more than cubs. Romone was going to be at this party.

He leaned down and whispered against his wife’s ear. “I go wherever the hell I want to go, and no one is going to stop me.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

His wife wore a beautiful red dress. The straps were thin, and the bodice melded to every curve of her body, emphasizing her full tits. It stayed that way as it went to her hips, and then dropped down, falling around her ankles. There was a slit in theside of the dress, going to just above her knee. It was classy, sexy, and sultry at the same time.

Her long, blonde hair had been curled, and she wore minimal makeup. He also sensed how nervous she was.

“You’re my wife.”

“I’m not used to this,” she said. “My parents always had invitations to parties like these.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t have an invitation,” she said.

“I don’t need one.”

They had already passed the security at the door. The main guard had looked at the guest list, and had already known who he was. Carver had waited to see if he had the balls to tell him he wasn’t on the list. It probably didn’t help that the last security guard had ended up without his own dick as punishment for trying to keep him out of an event.

Carver didn’t take too kindly to being excluded. He saw it as an insult.

The house was beautiful. Fine furnishings, and pure wood pieces, expensive-looking carpets, artwork on the walls. It screamed money, it yelled prestige, and Carver knew he would gladly destroy it all if he chose.

Several men had already spotted him. The moment they did, some made their escape. Others had disdain, but he also noticed they kept their distance.

He had several weapons on himself in case it went south.

There were scantily clad women, along with the wives and mistresses. The waitresses were not wearing any shirts, allowing their full fake tits to be on display. The male waiters, however, were fully dressed. Also, the women’s skirts didn’t exactly hide the fact they were naked.

The women were probably hooked on some kind of drug Rigel was giving them. They were his property. He was knownfor buying women, keeping them, using them, and then they always ended up either on the street or working one of the brothels. Once Rigel had his fill, he didn’t like to keep the women around. He didn’t like ugly things. It’s why he’d wanted Carver dead several times, but the bastard was too much of a coward to do it himself.

Entering the main dining room, Carver heard the few gasps and whispers. The only problem with big homes like this was that voices tended to linger and echo. It didn’t take long for Rigel to come to him.