Chapter 17
Istare down at my phone, squeezing the device so hard the screen cracks. Watching Benjamin put his fucking mouth on my girl’s skin is enough to send me into a rage. I know my unhinged thoughts of dismemberment and death are born out of jealousy, but I don’t give a fuck.
Delilah is mine, and I won’t share the pleasure of touching her with another man.
My professor continues his lecture, and the students around me listen, completely unaware that I’m close to going on a murdering rampage.
I pull in a deep breath and uncurl my fingers from my cell phone to set it on my desk. The object sits there, mocking me with its cracked screen, the fracture snaking along the edge and distorting the image of my little raptor.
Although no imperfection could ruin the perfection of Delilah.
She whirls away from Benjamin and disappears inside the building, removing herself from the camera’s view. It’s just one of the many scattered around campus. Someone’s got to keep an eye on Delilah when I’m not with her.
Spoiler: it’s me.
I lean forward and rest my elbows on the desk, steepling my fingers. The frustration and anger coursing through me requires an outlet, but one isn’t available to me at this moment. The restlessness is unbearable. I concentrate and summon the discipline that’s kept me alive all these years, the same restraint that keeps me from fucking Delilah until she’s fully healed.
Even then, I’ve almost lost control on several occasions. How much longer am I supposed to look at her without touching her? Meanwhile, her foster brother has, and it makes me want to kill him.
What the fuck were they talking about before he kissed her? More importantly, did she encourage him?
I grit my teeth, recalling how he put his arm around her and the way he looked at her. Like she’s the air he breathes. I’ve seen that look before. It’s on my face every time I’m with Delilah.
It takes me the rest of the day to calm down enough to head back to my room where my bride waits for me. She sits on the bed, her nose in a book. My anger ebbs away but doesn’t completely dissipate. It’s there, lurking under the surface, waiting for me to lose control and let it take over.
When I approach her, she looks up and gives me a cool smile, oblivious to the fact that I’m close to strangling her or spanking her. Mmm... both would be nice.
“How was your day, bride?”
She shrugs, the casual gesture drawing my attention to her breasts. When she catches me staring unabashedly, her cheeks redden, and she drops her gaze. “It was okay. Nothing special. Raven and I had a nice walk. What about you?”
“I went to my classes.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
I quirk a brow in challenge. “I could ask you the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“How was your visit with McKenzie?”
Her gaze widens infinitesimally, revealing her unease. “Fine. We walked around and had a nice chat. He asked me how I’m feeling.”
My girl doesn’t bother to ask me how I know about this interaction. Even if she doesn’t know the logistics, Delilah finally understands the lengths I’m willing to go to keep her safe. And keep her as mine.
“He’s really concerned about my recovery,” she says.
I scoff. “I’m sure he is.”
She doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she picks up her discarded book and buries her face in it. I’d call her a coward, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Usually, my girl is fierce and ready to throw sarcasm my way, so what gives?
“What did he say to you?”
She pretends to ignore me, but her pulse quickens underneath the skin of her neck, and her eyes no longer glide over the page.
“Tell me, bride.”
She slams the book closed and sets it down before crossing her arms. I drag my gaze along her body, taking my time to appreciate the shape of her legs and her curves. When my eyes return to her face, her cheeks are red.
“It’s nothing,” she says.
From one blink to the next, I’m straddling her on the bed, still mindful of her wound. With her wrists pinned on either side of her hips, her palms sinking into the mattress, she gazes up at me, her breath rushing in and out of her lungs.
“That’s not an answer.” I narrow my eyes at her, my frustration reaching an all-time high, my control about to snap. “What the fuck did he say to you?”
She lifts her chin, the defiant action matching the blaze in her eyes. “He told me about Saturday.”
“What about Saturday?”
“You tell me.”
“What’s happening this weekend doesn’t concern you.”
She flinches as though I struck her, then stiffens and sharpens her gaze. “Well, Ben thinks it does.”
My blood boils, the heat of anger pulsing through my veins. I lean down, pressing my chest against hers, pushing her deeper into the mattress. I bring my mouth to her ear, my lips brushing the soft flesh, the sweet scent of her hair filling my nostrils.
“You don’t need to worry about what McKenzie thinks.”
She turns her face toward me, and the tip of her nose brushes mine, her breath warming my lips. “Why not?”
I slide my hand along the length of her arm, then up the slope of her neck to wrap my fingers around her throat. I tighten my grip until she gasps, and the sound has my dick twitching.
“Because you’re my bride, not his.”
“Then act like it. Why don’t you want me to go with you?”
“You don’t belong there.”
How do I explain the level of depravity that’ll pervade the room, filing every inch with perversion? How the members of the Order will leer at her, the things they’ll say and do? The things they’ll expect me to do to her?
I won’t subject her to that.
I can’t. Not if I want to stay alive. Because I’ll kill anyone who touches her, and that’s likely to happen in an orgy.
She turns her head, unaware how tempting she is in this position, offering her throat to me. Her mouth is pinched with anger, and her body is rigid underneath me instead of pliant and welcoming. I want to bury my face in her hair and my cock between her thighs until she can’t dismiss me or the way I feel about her.
“What about the other brides?” she asks.
“What about them?”
“Will they be there? Or am I the only one who doesn’t belong in your world?”
I clench my jaw, my grip tightening on her neck. “Enough.”
“Answer the question.”
“No, I won’t answer the fucking question, so you’ll have to get used to not having an answer. Now it’s my turn. What happened with you and McKenzie today?”
She blinks at me, confusion covering her features. “What are you talking about?”
“He touched you.” When her eyes widen and the color drains from her cheeks, I press in. “I saw it, little raptor.”
“That was nothing.”
“After everything I’ve told you, do you really believe that?”
She bites her bottom lip. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. He’s still family.”
“Family or not, he doesn’t touch you. Ever. Understand?”
“Xavier, you can’t?—”
I slam my lips against hers, swallowing her words and replacing them with my tongue. The kiss is savage and bruising, an assault on her senses, a declaration of how she’s mine.
Only when she surrenders do I tear my mouth away and stare down at my bride, watching her chest rise and fall. I want her underneath me, spread wide, her thighs cradling me as I sink into her. Instead, I grab her face, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“He. Doesn’t. Touch. You.” I can’t stop myself from grinding my cock into her, wanting her to feel how fucked up I am because of her. Delilah’s pupils dilate, and her nostrils flare. The reaction has my dick jerking in my pants. “Do you understand me?”
She slowly nods.
For the millionth time, she’s saved Benjamin’s life by agreeing to my demands.