She looks like she’s about to tell him to go fuck himself, but before she can, I lean down and grab his shoulder.
“Marcus. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
His muscles are like steel under my touch. I know this man would give me anything I want, but I’m not sure that’s enough to override his murderous rage in this moment. I tighten my grip on him a little, tugging gently, and he finally relents, releasing the pressure on Victoria’s throat.
He stands in a smooth motion, his gun still pointed at her face. His gaze darts between Ryland and Theo before he jerks his chin at the woman on the floor. “Watch her. Shoot her if she moves.” Then he cuts a glance at Dominic. “Him too.”
With those words, he steps away from Victoria, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall.
I try not to notice the dead bodies we pass, or the way the coppery scent of blood seems to hang in the air, hitting the back of my throat with every inhale. We really need to get the fuck out of here fast—which means we need to settle this and decide what to do with Victoria even faster.
Dragging me into a small bedroom farther down from where we kept Dominic, Marcus slams the door shut behind us.
He presses me up against it, his hands on my shoulders and his large body pinning me to the wood. He didn’t turn the light on, so the only illumination in the room is the blue-gray hue of early dawn creeping through the window. For a second, I lock gazes with him, his eyes flashing in the dim light.
Then he crushes his lips to mine in a bruising kiss.
My hand flies to his hair, grabbing onto the thick brown strands and holding on as he kisses the breath out of me, driving all thoughts from my head just like he drives the air from my lungs.
I don’t know what he’s trying to do—what point he’s trying to make.
But I don’t fight the connection that flares between us. It’s like a pilot light, constantly burning, waiting only for the smallest spark to ignite a roaring flame.
I grind against him, kissing him back so hard I taste blood. Mine or his, I don’t know and don’t care. It mingles with the scent of blood in my nostrils, and it feels almost like we’re kissing to stave off death.
There’s so fucking much of it around us, reminders of our own mortality, of the precariousness of our situation.
Shoving those thoughts away, I rake my nails down the back of Marcus’s neck, drawing a heavy groan from him. He finally breaks our kiss, his forehead resting on mine as he drags up the skirt of my dress, bunching it around my waist as he slips his hand into my panties.
Two thick fingers slide into me as if they own me, as if they don’t belong anywhere else. Marcus’s eyelids droop as he hooks them, rubbing my g-spot and pulling me closer to him all in one motion. His breaths are harsh and deep, and I have a sudden vivid memory of the first time I was face-to-face with him after he came back into my life.
That day in the library when he made me come on his fingers.
“Who does this belong to, angel?” he murmurs roughly.
“You.”
“Who else?”
“Ryland and Theo.”
“Who else?”
“No one.”
“For how long?” he demands.
“Forever.”
He groans, pumping his fingers deeper and massaging my g-spot again. I pulled him away from the others to talk about Victoria and what we should do about her. About our plan to take Luca down. A few moments ago, sex was the furthest thing from my mind, and now I’m on the verge of coming on Marcus’s hand, pushed over the edge by a few strokes of his fingers and his deep voice in my ears.
As if he can feel the change in my body, the coiled heat begging to be let free, Marcus presses his thumb to my clit, massaging in a rapid pulse as his fingers plunge in and out of me.
Pleasure spikes inside me. There’s no warning or preamble before the orgasm tears through my body, singeing my nerve-endings and drawing a shuddering cry from my lips.
Aftershocks are still coursing through me when Marcus draws his fingers out abruptly, smearing my arousal over my skin before reaching up to grab my hand in his. His other hand deftly unbuckles his pants, then he pulls his cock free and brings our joined hands down to wrap around the pulsing heat of his shaft.
He’s hard and velvety-smooth, the veins that run along the length of him pulsing. Everything about his cock is angry. Demanding. Insistent.
Using his grip on me to guide our movements, he jerks himself off with my hand, holding my gaze as his pupils dilate and his body shudders.
“Who does this belong to, angel? Say it.”
“Me.” I lick my lips, my pussy throbbing, my core clenching around nothing. “It belongs to me.”
“Who else does it belong to?”
“No one.”
He growls, thrusting harder into our strokes, his hand tightening around mine. “What would you do if another woman touched what was yours? If she tried to take what was yours?”
I make a small noise in the back of my throat. I just came hard from his fingers and thumb, but the needy ache hasn’t subsided. His words are only stoking the flame higher.
“I’d kill her,” I rasp out.
“Fuck, angel. Oh fuck.”
His cock swells beneath my palm, his thrusts becoming harder and choppier. Desperate to feel his release, to taste it, I suddenly drop to my knees in front of him. He releases my hand, slamming both of his palms against the door as I wrap my lips around him, using my fist and my mouth to stroke his entire length.
My tongue swirls over his smooth head, lapping up his salty pre-cum, and when I take him as deep as I can, bringing him all the way into my throat, he curses.
His hips jerk forward, cutting off my air supply entirely, filling my senses with nothing but him.
Then he explodes, his cock pulsing over and over as salty cum hits the back of my tongue. I swallow, my hand sliding up his shirt and over the hard plane of his stomach as he shudders again.
Finally, I release him from my mouth, sitting back on my heels as I look up at him. From this angle, he looks like a god of darkness, looming over me as the gray morning light frames his shadowy form.
His gaze catches mine, and he holds that connection as he reaches down to tuck himself away, zipping his pants up slowly.
“I would’ve killed her, you know,” he says quietly. Some of the rage has drained from his voice, and now all that’s left is the plain truth.
“I know.”
“You really trust her?”
I sigh. “No. I don’t trust anyone but the three of you. But she hated Luca even before she found out he lied about this entire thing. And the way she loves Jaden?” I drag my hand down Marcus’s muscled thigh, my fingernails sliding along the expensive fabric of his pants. “It’s the way I love you. The kind of love that can burn down the world. I could hear it in her voice, see it in her eyes. It’s dangerous, but I think it’s what we need on our side.”
Marcus closes his eyes briefly, as if he’s letting himself get lost in my touch for a moment. Then he pulls me to my feet, enveloping me in his arms.
The clean scent of leather fills my nostrils, mixing with blood and something acrid and metallic. But in Marcus’s embrace, even those scents are comforting.
They’re a reminder of the lengths he’ll go to just to keep me safe.
“All right, angel,” he murmurs, his face buried in my hair. “You win.”