Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)

by Ana Huang

“I suggest you stop lookin’ at me like that, Princess,” I said, my voice lethally soft. “Unless you plan on doing something about it.”

“Princess, I know every man who even thinks about touching you. Much less one who you danced with. Twice,” Rhys added, the word lethally soft.

“The truth, Princess, is I came back knowing this was what I signed up for. To see you every day and not be able to touch you. Kiss you. Claim you.”

“I came back despite knowing the torture I’d have to go through because I can’t stay away from you. Even when you’re not there, you’re everywhere. In my head, in my lungs, in my fucking soul. And I’m trying very hard not to lose my shit right now, sweetheart, because all I want is to cut off that fucker’s head and serve it on a platter for daring to touch you. Then bend you over the hood and spank your ass raw for letting him.” He cupped me between my legs and squeezed. I whimpered with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “So don’t. Push. Me.”

“I don’t like hearing his name on your lips.”

I was a rule follower by nature. It was how I’d survived most of my life. But for Bridget, I would break every rule in the book. It only took six weeks of being apart from her and another six of fucking agony for me to accept the truth, but now that I had, there was no going back.

Bridget von Ascheberg was mine and mine alone. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine to take. I was taking her anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto her skin, bury myself in her heart, and etch myself onto her soul, I would. Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, I closed the distance between us and grasped her chin with my hand. “But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do…” My fingers dug into her skin. “I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?”

I didn’t give a flying fuck. Bridget was mine. She wasn’t mine to take, but I was taking her anyway. Her laughs, her fears, her joy, and her pain. Every inch of her body and beat of her heart. All mine.

“Keep your underwear, gloves, and heels on,” he said, still in that deceptively soft tone. “And crawl to me.”

“I want you to know something, Princess,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp against my skin. “There’s not much in the world I want to claim as mine. I’ve seen and done too much shit in my life to believe in forever. But you…” He grasped my chin with his free hand. “You belong to me. I don’t give a fuck what the law or anyone else says. You are mine. Understand?”

Baby, we’re way beyond like.

“I told you, you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if the entire Eldorran military tries to drag me away.”