Desire
Turns out, Aurora craves intense sensations.
Her refusal to take the painkiller came back to bite her quickly.
My initial intention to gently wash her in warm water escalated into me fucking her hard while she sat on the edge of the tub, her palms slipping on the tiled wall.
And I’m damn sure she didn’t regret it for a second.
This fragile girl has a truly wild temperament, and her hidden ferocity turns me on to the point of growling.
Considering that was the third time for me today, my body was in no hurry to orgasm.
I took her for a long time, pushing her to her absolute limit, so by the time we finally reached that shattering peak, she nearly passed out.
Technically, I didn’t lie to Aurora. Zack really ran his mouth about never having fucked her. It’s just that he didn’t say it to me but to the now-deceased Bill. I caved Bill’s skull in with a crankshaft for daring to speak her name with his filthy mouth.
Afterward, I had to carry her limp, half-conscious body out of the bathroom. I hadn’t planned on staying the night initially, but I have my own private penthouse on the top floor of Savannah, and looking at her exhausted body, I changed my plans.
After lowering Aurora onto the wide bed made up with fresh white sheets, I survey her exhausted body with possessive satisfaction.
On her pale skin, my fresh hickeys blaze, and on her delicate wrists and ankles, crimson welts stand out from the harsh leather restraints.
My trophy. My reward. I ignored her pointed question about whether my showing up at her apartment at the same time as Zack was a coincidence.
Let her wonder. Soon enough, she’ll realize how totally and completely she belongs to me.
I pause, listening. An insistent, rhythmic phone vibration filters through the slightly open door. Taking one last look at the sleeping girl and leaving her to rest, I head back to the dimly lit room with the chains, find my discarded jeans on the floor, and pull the buzzing phone from the pocket.
“Speak,” I say.
“Got news on that thing you asked for, brother.” Laurent’s voice sounds suspiciously chipper.
The bastard hasn’t slept again. “One of Thornton’s private, off-the-books clinics had a transplant operation four months ago.
The donor and recipient are encrypted in their system, listed under numerical codes.
No real names. It’s clear both are women—their DNA samples are stored in the system. ”
I narrow my eyes. This lead could change Aurora’s life.
“What exactly was transplanted?”
“Bone marrow, according to the medical records.”
“I see …,” I murmur, staring at the glittering darkness outside the window. “If I can get you fresh DNA samples in the near future, can you compare them to the ones in the clinic’s database?”
“No problem. Get them.” Laurent chuckles. “I’ve held up my end of the deal completely. As for what you owe me—that can wait. I’m still thinking about how to make you useful.”
“Don’t take too long,” I grit out, hauling the phone from my ear.
“One more thing. As the family’s chief strategist, I think it would be beneficial to solidify our business relationship with Jefferson through some informal socializing. Your Savannah would be perfect for that.”
I clench my jaw until my teeth grind. Drag that bastard here? To my personal territory?
“Find another place.”
“You can find one yourself, if your club suddenly means that much to you.” Laurent chuckles. “But the family is putting you in charge of entertaining Jefferson. After all, you’re his temporary hired killer. So the ball’s in your court—get closer.”
I squeeze the phone with such uncontrolled force that the plastic gives a faint creak under the pressure. “Killer. Not a fucking clown entertainer.”
“Ha ha, just relax and show him a really good time next weekend, brother. That’s an order from the family.”
I hang up without saying goodbye.
Annoyed by the shitty assignment and Laurent’s smug tone, I head back to the bedroom.
Pushing back the edge of the comforter, I slide under the cool sheets.
Sensing the movement, Aurora—her eyes still closed—crawls toward me, presses her naked, heated body against mine, and throws a leg over me.
I’m still pissed from the call with Laurent, my muscles tight with tension, and I’m not in the mood for tenderness, but I draw her closer, burying my face in her disheveled hair.
Soon, I’ll have to spill blood again. My hands are already elbow-deep in it—killing is nothing new to me.
I’ll kill many more. And I want my broken princess to be my reward for all my crimes. My main, hard-won trophy. Only mine.