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Or maybe it’s because, deep down, part of me still hopes I can love him to recovery. That if I don’t give up on him, he won’t give up on life. On himself. I’m wrong, of course.
So unbelievably fucking wrong. Some people just don’t want to be saved.
“That’s right,” he says. “Nothing but a dirty toy, and unfortunately for you, I’m in the mood to play.”
“I’m assuming you’re new here,” I tell her, bending my neck so my lips graze her ear, “so I won’t fault you for what you can’t possibly understand. But I think you’ll learn quickly, little thief, that there isn’t anything on this island I can’t do. If I want you as my assistant, then you’ll be my assistant. If I want you to lie back on my desk and spread your thighs so I can reacquaint myself with the sweet, sodden paradise between them, you’ll do that too.”
Someday soon, when I’m buried inside her again, I’ll take the opportunity to remind her of her hatred. And when she comes, soaking me, it’ll be the utter humiliation on her face that finishes me off.
Dark rosy nipples pucker against the material of her shirt, and I can feel everyone in the room eye-fucking her. I’m doing it too, surely, but I’m allowed. Finders keepers and all that jazz.
“Here.” She just blinks at me, and I have to suppress a smirk because the girl doesn’t know who she’s toying with right now. “I can wait, but if your arse isn’t up on this desk in the next thirty seconds, I’m liable to bend you over it and make you really angry.”
He ignores me. “Jonas is the best thing about my life,” he says softly, pulling at his tie as he averts his eyes. They return in a second, suddenly devoid of any emotion. “Keeping him out of this place keeps him safe.”
“Since when?” I reply, tilting my chin up in defiance. Alistair’s brows quirk up. “Since I said so.”
“You’re right, mate. She’s more than just an assistant, so if I hear you proposition her for sex again, I’ll
have you fired and chased out of this fucking town. If she goes home with and rides anyone’s cock tonight—or any other night—it’ll be mine.”
“Because she’s mine,” he snaps, fingers tightening on the paper.
“God doesn’t get on his knees to worship,” I mutter against her, taking her clit between my teeth. “You’re in bed with the devil, m’eudail, and I don’t think he intends on letting you go.”
“You’re the one who talked all that shit about making me a cream puff.”
There’s something wildly intoxicating about bringing a powerful, dangerous man to his knees. It makes you want, even when you know he’s bad for you. Maybe especially then. Desserts tend to be more delicious when you’re not supposed to have them.
“They said my biggest scandal would be fucking my bratty assistant, but they have no idea what I’m truly capable of.”
When he smirks, I curse silently. Alistair Wolfe is a hunter, both for sport and in spirit, and he’s made it clear I’m his favorite target. Backing up instead of standing my ground says I’m playing his game.
“Please,” he adds, and it makes my heart stutter in my chest because I know damn well this man has never begged for anything in his life.
“You won’t speak of my brother, period.” My voice is sharp as it interrupts.
I’m not used to being affected by anyone so viscerally, but I suppose that’s what love is—soul-deep and catastrophic. The kind of thing that has the power to effectively ruin you, but that you trust isn’t going to.
