Chapter 36
Sean
Pain radiates through my jaw from clenching my teeth. My shoulders are tight, my posture stiff, and the only thing keeping me from launching myself at this man is the gorgeous woman in my lap.
My fingers are locked onto her hip tightly enough that I’ve surely bruised her. I want to crack the glass bottle of beer over Mercer Koskinen’s head and maybe take one of those shards and drive it into his eye. It would do nothing to calm the rage, though.
A brief glance to my left reveals Jace’s narrowed gaze, pursed lips, and flared nostrils. He looks like a jaguar about to pounce.
I want to use the moment to question him about the state of his bedroom and the inked names on the wall, but I suspect that would only make this already tense situation worse.
“You knowingly sent her to that place…to us? You knew what she’d probably have to endure, and you asked her to go anyway?” Until now, he’s had no idea that Jace and I are the ones personally responsible for hurting his sister. He inclines his head while his chest puffs out.
“Did you realize that she had a kill order?”
Come at me, please. Give me an excuse to use your body for target practice. “She would’ve been dead by the time you’d gotten there.”
Mercer gets to his feet with a surprising amount of vigor, but I meet his glower with one of my own. “You’re responsible for hurting her?” he shoots back. I deserve that, but I’m not the one to blame for her being there in the first place.
“Yes.” I own my shit. “But there were men far worse than me in that place. If she’d died, that would’ve been on you.”
“Sean.” My name is a gentle whisper, only meant for me. Lou twists her head and our eyes crash like lightning. “It’s alright; I’m alright.”
Did she forget what it smelled like when her flesh was burned off her body?
Does she remember the way her sputters and gags bounced off the concrete walls when I dumped buckets of water over her face?
What about the agony when I whipped her?
That man sitting across from us is responsible for every cut, every scream, every moment of pain.
Her attempt to placate me comes too late.
The live wires inside my brain are already sparking like firecrackers.
I can’t see anything but a blinding white light that eclipses my vision, save for the recipient of my vitriol.
How dare he sacrifice her to the wolves that prowled that place? How could he do that to her?
“You might be alright now, Lou, but things could’ve gone differently. Borman, Jones, and Davis could’ve killed you. I could’ve killed you. Your brother is responsible for that.”
Her lips flatline, her eyes narrow, and her voice drops to a low warning. “Digs.”
In my periphery, I note the way Jace is white knuckling his bottle between his spread legs. His gaze is pinned straight ahead, fixed on the source of our ire.
“We found her strung up, being sliced and diced like a carcass of meat,” I grit out, my jaw flexing as I scowl at Mercer. “And that probably wasn’t even the worst thing that happened to her.”
“Did you ask Louhi about any of this?” he challenges me. “She knew what she was getting into.”
My blood buzzes, and my chest vibrates as my voice booms like thunder through the living room. “How could you let her take the fall for you?”
Louhi recoils, her entire body jolting as though I just slapped her across the face. Not a single sound can be heard in the room; even the heater seems to go silent. It’s the quiet of snow falling over an empty field, the stillness in the moment before a tornado touches the earth.
Her boots hit the floor with a heavy thud. Burgundy liquid sloshes out of the top of her wineglass as she slams it onto the coffee table.
I stand, clenching my fists to combat the urge to reach for her. I’m going to take whatever she throws at me.
Staring up at me with blazing irises, she pokes me in the chest, her nail sharp even through my tight, camel-colored T-shirt. “No one on this God-forsaken planet lets me do anything. Not my brother, not Honey Eyes, not you.”
Louhi
A scream snakes up my throat, but I bite down on it, trapping it between my teeth in a guttural grunt as I turn on my heel and stalk from the room. Sean calls after me, but I need space to keep myself from going bloody ballistic.
I slam the door to the basement behind me. My aggravation undulates like large waves crashing against rocks as I descend the steps to the basement.
Before I even reach the bottom, I’ve shed my shirt so I’m in nothing but combat boots, tactical pants, and my sports bra. Tossing my top aside, I step up to the heavy bag and don’t bother taping my hands before striking.
Wishing it were a person, I let my fist fly hard enough that my knuckles split, probably further damaging my fingers that were beginning to heal.
I grin when blood wells in the fresh cut.
Harnessing the pain, I take another swing, and another, until the physical pain blots out its emotional counterpart.
Over and over, I batter the bag. My chest is heaving, and if I could breathe smoke, I could asphyxiate everyone in the house by now.
I wonder if my masochistic streak is far more prominent than I ever realized, because it’s only when my blood begins to cover my hands that I realize how much calmer I feel.
I shouldn’t be upset with Sean, but it felt as though he was piercing holes in the shield of trust that protects us. I’m a grown woman. I’m responsible only for myself. Sean doesn’t have to like the decision I made, but he needs to trust and respect me.
When my brother asked me if I’d go to prison for him for a few months, that was my decision. I knew he was going to come for me. My brother is many things—a killer, a thief, a bloody criminal—but not a liar. If a quarrel is to be had about that, it’s going to be between me and Mercer. No one else.
Sean’s protective, bordering on overly possessive, but I’ve been on my own far longer than I’ve been with him. If this is to work, he’s going to need to trust me when I say I can handle myself. Vittu.
As soon as I land a right hook kick to the bag, Sean’s deep voice, sharper than a blade, reverberates off the concrete walls of the basement. “Lou.”
I spin to find him leaning against the pillar near the basement steps, his arms crossed over his well-muscled chest. Lost in the red haze of fury, I didn’t hear him enter my space.
Sean approaches the sparring mat on the other side of the gym. He crooks a finger, beckoning me. Just like that, the irritation returns with a vengeance. I glower at him, my anger enshrouding me in a thick fog.
“I’m cross with you,” I snap. But if that wasn’t abundantly clear, he’s denser than a diamond.
He ignores my statement. “Fight me.”
Not a bad plan. I’d give my left pinky finger to set this man on his arse.
We begin to circle each other like two alphas in a battle dance for dominance. I study him for a moment before kicking out, attempting to unbalance him, but he dodges the move. I lunge. He blocks my attack before unsuccessfully aiming to knock my feet out from beneath me.
For a man of his size, he’s surprisingly agile. I wouldn’t have guessed that hand-to-hand combat would be his specialty, but he’s meeting each of my maneuvers better than I anticipated. When I swing, he skirts it, then strikes. I duck it easily.
“I don’t like being questioned,” I utter when I make a move that lands him on the mat. Unfortunately, it’s not half as satisfying as I’d hoped it’d be. My fist connects with the wall of his stacked abs and I grunt softly.
I pin him to the ground, meeting his piercing grey gaze as he replies, “You’re mine. Mine to protect. Mine to hurt and mine to heal. Mine to love.”
Peering into his eyes is like glimpsing into his soul. His truthfulness swirls there like a cyclone. My heart tap dances in my chest, and my breaths become shallow.
“You know I mean those words, Louhi. I trust you, but I can’t afford your brother the same goodwill yet. Although, I’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt for you—only for you.”
The ice encasing my heart thaws further as I scrutinize him. I’ve never done this—a relationship—and it’s harder than I anticipated. I’ve never depended on anyone other than Mercer before.
He takes advantage of the lapsed moment, flipping me onto my back, nailing me to the mat with one hand collared around my neck. My pulse quickens as my nipples tighten.
As my body begins to hum for an entirely new reason, Sean’s smug smirk threatens to overtake his entire face. He skates his free hand down my sternum to cup my sex pulsing beneath the layers of clothing. I wink at him and lift my hips, hungry for more friction, more attention.
His cock is hard, and he grits his teeth, continuing to stroke me through my trousers. When I roll my hips, desperate, he tightens his grip on my neck. “Are you going to come for me like this?”
“I don’t know, are you?” I croak. Deep lines form between his eyebrows.
Half a second later, he’s on his back, and I straddle his hips, my hand around his neck. I squeeze his gorgeous, smooth throat gently, his pulse pounding beneath the pads of my fingers as I swivel my hips. It only lasts a moment before he’s gripping my waist, halting me.
“I don’t think so, baby. We’ve already played this game, so if you want to take control, you’re going to have to earn that privilege. I’m not just going to give it to you.”
He swiftly flips me onto my stomach and jams his knee between my legs. My palms slam against the mat to catch myself from falling forward. I smirk as I lift my hips a little, grinding up and down over his thigh shamelessly.
“Needy fucking girl,” he rumbles in my ear, and I rub my cunt over his thigh again. “Are you so desperate that you’ll settle for humping my leg?”
He moves so that his shins fasten my calves to the mat, and I can feel his hard, clothing-covered cock digging into my backside.
He grips me by the hair and yanks my head back until my scalp is burning and I’m staring at our reflection in the mirrors.
Pulling me up until I’m kneeling with my back flush with his front, his knee stays wedged between my thighs.
When he laves kisses up the column of my neck, my head lolls back, resting on his shoulder. My skin tingles in the wake of his lips, my pussy clenching.
My patience with being unfilled is waning.
“Are you still mad at me?” he queries among the kisses he’s peppering.
I roll us both like a ball made of muscle.
And when I’m above him again, I lick him from belly button to the hollow of his throat.
He tastes like salty masculinity. I swallow it down, then repeat the action.
He grunts and flips us once more, his fingers immediately finding the button on my trousers and dragging the zipper down agonizingly slowly, torturing us both.
A whiny whimper leaves my parted lips, and he answers his own inquiry. “I didn’t think so.”
I don’t bother putting up a fight because I have no interest in taking the lead with Sean now, and my vexation has nearly disappeared.
He roughly shoves me forward, my palms catching me again when they collide with the mat.
Then he’s jerking my pants and knickers down to my knees in a quick, fluid movement.
“Look at you with your beautiful, fuckable ass in the air, presenting yourself,” he commends, and I clench my pussy.
He squeezes the globes of my arse before I feel his teeth sink into the meaty flesh, making me squeak. My noise of protest does nothing to stop him, only serving to spur him on. He slides a hand over the skin and runs two fingers between my cheeks.
I tense, my breath catching in my mouth when he reaches my tight, forbidden hole, but he doesn’t penetrate me. He lazily circles my back entrance as he thrusts three fingers into my slick, throbbing cunt.
I’m practically panting now, and a small mewl escapes me. Imploring him for more, I push my hips back against his hand, making him chuckle.
“You’re begging me at this point, aren’t you, baby? You want me between these cheeks.”
I groan, the sound vibrating through me.
“I’m going to fuck your ass, Lou, and if you don’t want me to, you need to physically stop me. Do you understand?”