Chapter 27

I broke away, undoing my belt and the clasp of my slacks. In a hard tug, I brought her up to straddle me. I had her sliding down my cock before she could answer. The sight that met me as she leaned her back and moaned through the rough invasion made everything else but her fade out. Her lips were parted and her lids closed. My fingers were imprinted on the side of her throat, symbolizing something so vast, so great, that I couldn’t move as she slid further down my length. Blood. I’d killed for her. I’d always kill for her. No one else would ever be for me. Slave twenty-four-six-ninety was the one for me, whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not. She’d come this far in trying to prove she wanted me and it was me pulling away. I always had because of the fears. But here was a taste, so vividly before me … and she wasn’t dead or completely mutilated. Yet.

My hand gripped to the side of her neck as I pulled her back to my mouth. She was riding me now, taking control of my fantasy as she brought my other hand back to her chest. When her fingers slid through the tips of mine, she let us glide higher. And then … me. The wetness of her blood smeared over my cheek and chin. I moaned louder than I ever had, lost to the spell she was casting.

Faster, she moved along my cock. Words fell from my lips—

“Everleigh, Everleigh.”

No. this couldn’t be right. This whole situation was wrong, and it was going to be my undergoing. It would be Whitlock’s undoing. Without her, I had control. With her, I clearly had none.

“No.” My head shook hard, but her fingers were already shooting up to hold to my hair. She gripped tight, meeting my eyes with a force that all but tried to put me in my place. She was the slave, not me. Yet, she was no slave right now.

“You want me. You want this.”

Deeper, she took me into her. The movement of her hips was so perfect that it was almost impossible to fight the fog I floated in. Anger— the true Bram—somehow broke through and red blinded me. I growled at my own fear of her dominance, spinning and slamming her on the small bed so I was on top. She had to see. She had to know how far I would go.

One of my hands locked on her throat while the other fitted over her nose and mouth. I fucked her mercilessly, pounding into her as the suction from her breathing pulled against my palm. She was trying to scream, or maybe she was. I didn’t know. The blood … she was covered in it, and so were my hands. I was gone. I wasn’t the chained beast anymore. She had unleashed me and with the freedom, I wanted her to see the consequences.

“Do you like your Master, now? Is this what you want your life to be?”

I removed my hand, allowing her to gasp through the panic the loss of oxygen had put her into. Her head was rolling and she had been on the verge of passing out. Brutally, I slapped her, continuing to thrust.

Continuing to slam into her as if her small body could take it.

“Speak! Is this what you want?”

I slapped her, again. Once, twice. My hand fitted back over her nose and mouth as cries muffled under my weight. Her head tried to turn back and forth, but I didn’t allow her air. I pushed my fingers into her face tighter, lowering and meeting her eyes as I came to a stop.

“This is what happens when you play with real fire, slave. You don’t just get burned, you get fucking disintegrated. I hope you learned your lesson. Tempt me again and you may not live through the day. If I had my way, you wouldn’t live through tonight. As it is, I made a promise to my friend. One I don’t know if I can fulfill now.” I let go while she inhaled deeply, sobbing as she tried to catch her breath. “Tomorrow you’ll be sold to someone. If you so much as look my way again, it better be because you have a death wish.”

I pulled my cock out of her, pushing to stand. Cries shook her and she curled to the side, burying half of her face in the blanket.

“Coward,” she whispered through her scratchy voice. “Coward!”

I fastened my slacks and belt, feeling sick—feeling like I had made the biggest mistake of my life. Deep inside, I had wanted to end this. I wanted her to not be able to love me. And I’d succeeded. Coward. For her love, perhaps I was.