Chapter Twenty-Six
Ember
The rest of the day is underwhelming. After lunch, Max leaves me to go to his office.
He emerges a few hours later, takes a seat beside me, and pulls me onto his lap.
My instinct is to bite out his jugular, but I remind myself that he now has leverage over me—and he might actually refrain from abusing it the way Dagon did, if I play my cards right and don’t push him.
He runs his hands up and down my back, clutching a handful of my ass, watching my expression closely as if he’s analyzing me. “Stand,” he requests.
My lips purse, but I stand up.
“Leggings off, please,” he says, overly cordial and polite.
Is this another test? Or does he actually want to have sex this time?
Whatever the case, I’m in no position to refuse him.
I slide my leggings down my legs, lifting my feet to step out of them.
Max leans forward, taking hold of my waist, and abruptly sinks his teeth straight over my hipbone.
I gasp, eyes widening, and clutch his shoulders.
The pain is pain, but there’s another, greater sensation—sheer dominion.
Like he’s an animal who marking his mate in a primal way, and for some reason, it gets to me.
I sink my fingers into his hair, arching my back.
Max pulls back and look up at me with glittering eyes. “You liked that?”
No point in lying. “More than I should.”
“There are no shoulds or shouldn’ts between us, Flame. You can like what you like, free of shame or embarrassment. I guarantee I’ll like it too.” He presses a kiss to my belly button, swirling his tongue around it.
I frown. “You know how many bacteria can be found—”
“Ember.” His voice is so exasperated, I have to force myself to hide a smile. Instead, I arch an imperious eyebrow.
“What, you don’t want me to give you fair warnings that could save your life?
If you succeed, you’re about to purchase my indentured servitude.
” My muscles tense as the words leave my lips, and it serves as a welcome reminder.
I may occasionally not despise what happens when I share a room with Maximus, but tolerating him is the minority, and keeping myself from murdering him takes up the bulk of my attention.
I do not look forward to belonging to another man… but better Max than Dagon.
“I haven’t purchased shit, aside from a chance to earn your loyalty.
” Before I can ask what the hell he means, Max scrapes his teeth down my navel, and then teasingly tugs at my panties with his lips.
My fingers sink into his shoulders when he lowers his head and swirls his tongue over my clit through the fabric of my panties.
“Think I could make you come like this?” Max whispers, doing it again.
And again, until a soft moan escapes my lips and my head falls back.
I must still have my blood pumping from my fight with Tobias, because I already feel frighteningly close to combusting, as if I’m hovering on the very edge of an orgasm.
“N-no,” I stutter, teeth nearly chattering. Fuck, it’s already right there.
“N-no?” Max mocks lightly. “You sure about that, Flame?” he gently bites my clit, and that nearly undoes me.
My channel clenches around nothing, I’m a heartbeat away from abandoning my pride and just begging Max to go down on me…
but then he stops. Pulls back, and helps me back into my leggings.
It takes my mind a minute to catch up with my body, and then, I gape at him. “What the f—”
“Shh,” he whispers. “Later. You can wait for your orgasm—I’ll give it to you before bed.”
My lips part, and fury twists my stomach. “Did you just—”
“Deny you an orgasm?” He grins. “Yep. Had lots of fun doing it, too.” He winks at me, seeming awfully chipper and far too fucking amused for his own wellbeing. “Like I said, you’ll get one before bed.”
“I don’t have a bedtime, motherfucker. In case you’ve forgotten, my sleep cycle isn’t normal.”
“We’ll see about that, Flame.” He bites into my hipbone again, and I momentarily forget about how pissed I am at him.
“Now, in the meantime, I’m going to get you another laptop.
Not because you deserve it, but because I can’t really blame you for hitting Toby earlier—I wanted to hit him, too.
On that laptop, you are going to look at furniture and decorations.
” He pauses for a moment, frowning. “You can also look at entertainment stuff. Y’know; books, movies, sex toys—”
“Stop.”
He grins. “You’re right, I should focus on the toys, since I have the experience.” He grins at me. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll ensure you love every second of every filthy, depraved thing I do to you.”
Max examines my features for a few moments, eyes running over my face, searching for something. I don’t know if he finds what he’s looking for, but after a beat, he says, “Let’s go to dinner.”
“You’re taking me to the dining hall again?” I arch an eyebrow. “I thought you were going to hold off on that, considering how it went last time.”
“If you step out of line, I’ll punish you,” Max says simply.
“You know that. I know that. Every time I have to punish you for repeat transgressions, the punishments will become more severe. If you act out, you’re literally only hurting yourself.
You might be impressively shut off from the world, but you’re not stupid, Ember.
Behave yourself accordingly, and everything will be fine. ”
The dining hall is packed with people yet again.
I’m still irritated from Max denying me an orgasm and in absolutely no mood to deal with any bullshit, but I don’t want a repeat performance of what happened when I upset Scarlett.
I still don’t like the fact that Max seems hung up on her, but frankly, if he saves my sister, he can fuck whoever he wants.
I’ve tolerated far worse disrespect and humiliation for far less.
He grabs us two plates of food before steering me to his usual table again.
Scarlett is sitting beside Greyson this time, but when he sees us coming, he picks her up and places her in his lap, arching a challenging eyebrow at me.
I raise my eyebrows in return and yawn. I’m not interested in his little power game; he can do whatever the hell he wants to Scarlett. They aren’t my business.
Toby is likewise seated at the table, and he’s typing away at a laptop in front of him. I catch a glimpse of a thin brace on his knee and hide a grin. I really did a number on him with minimal effort expended.
“Gentlemen,” Max says as we take our seats.
“New girl,” a guy tatted up to the gills says. “We didn’t actually get to introduce ourselves last time—I’m Elijah.”
I give him a two-finger salute. “Ember.”
The one sitting next to him, a guy with tan skin, pitch-black hair, and midnight-blue eyes introduces himself as Bryan. Tobias requires no introduction and makes no attempt to engage me in conversation.
“You already know Tobias, Greyson, and Scarlett,” Max says, cutting into a baked potato.
I focus in on the steak on my plate. Protein and iron will always be my first choices when it comes to food—a luxury I didn’t get very often when bound to Dagon.
Technically, I’m still bound to Dagon. I won’t consider my servitude or loyalties changed until I get concrete evidence that Alina’s safe and permanently away from Dagon’s reach.
I’m counting down the hours I gave Max; if she isn’t out of harm’s way by tomorrow night, I’m going to get out of here.
I don’t give a shit if I need to find an automatic rifle somewhere and fire up this entire place, killing anyone who gets in my way; I have no limits or morality when it comes to protecting Alina.
“Hey,” Scarlett pipes up with a smile.
I wave at her in response, giving her a careful up and down.
She’s very pretty, but also very interested in Greyson.
She leans into him comfortably, practically melting over his body.
When he starts cutting up food and feeding it to her in small bites, she accepts each one docilely. No, not docilely, but without issue.
“So, Viper,” Elijah says. “Heard you’re the reason Toby had to take a trip down to medical earlier.”
I chew and swallow a piece of steak before responding. “He shouldn’t have provoked me.” I stare at Tobias while I speak, but he doesn’t take the bait. He continues typing on his laptop, though I catch his nostrils flaring with irritation.
“How’d you do it?” Elijah asks.
“He came at me with a knife; I dislocated his knee with a laptop, then broke it over his head.” I’m still staring at Toby, waiting to see if he rises to the taunt. He knows Alina, or knows of Alina—I want to find out exactly how and why the fuck he recognized her name.
Bryan releases a low, “Oh, shit.”
Elijah grins. “Nice.”
Greyson cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “How many years of combat experience do you have?”
“I never went to war; I wouldn’t say I have formal combat experience.” I eat another piece of steak. “I just got really good at killing people.”
“How many years have you been killing people?” Greyson asks.
“Almost five. Why?”
“Just curious.” Greyson shrugs. “How did you manage to kill three Nighthawks?”
So I guess I only killed three of them. Huh.
“Honestly, I only remember one of them, and that’s because he nearly put me in a coma.
I imagine I killed them in the way I killed everyone else; swiftly, but with a dramatic twist.” That was always Dagon’s preference.
He wanted the jobs done fast, but he also wanted a message sent to the world; cross him and get gruesomely killed and then displayed like a mannequin.
“One of them was found in the middle of a cornfield, crucified and stuffed like a scarecrow,” Greyson says. The color drains from Scarlett’s face, and Max sighs beside me.
I frown. “How big was he?”
“6’5, 230 lbs,” Greyson responds instantly. He’s looked into this quite recently.