Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,120

I think these past couple of days proved that, don't you?"

I shook my head, not liking the shakiness in her voice. "I told you already, so don't make me repeat myself," I grumbled. "Don't mistake caution for weakness. I don't. I respect you more for taking a step back than for throwing caution to the wind. With your past, that kind of thinking kept you safe and alive." I nudged her with my dick. "Go into my gallery."

She gulped, but did as I asked, moving to the gallery where she found her.

Hundreds of pictures of her, only broken up with screenshots of something I'd taken in between meeting up with her.

"Jesus," she rasped.

"You're beautiful," I told her, unapologetically, as she swiped through them all, seeing herself in various poses, various bondage techniques, sometimes asleep, sometimes drifting off, sometimes with her legs spread wide, sometimes in the middle of an orgasm.

"Tell me your pussy isn't creaming," I whispered in her ear.

She swallowed. "I shouldn't be wet, because it looks like I've picked up another stalker—"

I grinned at that. "This is the kind of stalker you'll like, I promise. This one gives you orgasms."

"Gives me, huh? So far, I've had to work fucking hard for those orgasms."

“And those pictures are proof that you love it." I pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "If you ever leave me, I will never, ever, break your trust. Those photos are mine. No one will ever see them. Ever."

She bit her lip. "And what if you leave me?"

"Won't happen."

"You sound so sure," she whispered.

"I am. Monsters mate for life, dontcha know? Just like Giulia is stuck with Nyx, you're stuck with me."

"Why do you compare yourself to him?"

"Because we're birds of a feather, only his catalyst is justified. Mine isn't. I came from a normal household. You guys didn't." I heaved a sigh. "You'll never see what makes us so similar, because I'll never let you."

"Should I be scared?"

"Of me?" I thought about that, tried to reason whether she should be or not, then I murmured, "No. You could even betray the Sinners and I wouldn't hurt you. Spank you, sure. Hurt you? No."

She tensed, and wriggled around in my hold to look at me. "Whoa."

I shrugged. "I know."

We were both aware how massive that was.

"You know I'd never betray them though, don't you?"

"You're not an idiot," I said wryly. "Just because I wouldn't hurt you, doesn't mean they wouldn't come baying for your blood, and while I'd do everything I could to keep you safe, they're wily fuckers."

She winced. "True dat." She waggled the phone. "Do you see me like this?"

"In my mind's eye?"

"Yes."

"Sure do. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing about you is pitiful, Indy."

Though she swallowed, I felt like she got it, I felt like she was listening and processing and, even more importantly, accepting.

I waited for her next question, but whatever she could have asked, it stunned me.

"Are you going to brand me?"

"Yes."

“When?"

"Don't know. When things calm down, probably." A thought occurred to me. "Can you tattoo yourself?"

She snorted. "Do bears shit in the woods."

I smoothed my good hand along her forearm, and murmured, "Here, I guess. It'll have to be." She nodded, prompting me to say, "I'll wear a brand too. But I want you on me. A pin up version of you."

Her cheeks burned hotly. "With clothes or without?"

Amused by the question, I dipped in closer, and breathed in her ear, "Which one makes you wetter?"

She licked her lips. "Without."

"Then without it is. It'll have to be somewhere no other fucker can see it though." My brow puckered as logistics hit me. "And somewhere I can cover up with clothes. Our kids don't need to see that."

"Kids?" she squeaked, her eyes rounding at the prospect.

I shrugged. "From you, adopted, fostered, don't care. Now, ten years’ time, four months’ time, don't care. Just figure it'll happen. It's in you, whether you see it or not."

She gulped, and her pupils had morphed into pin pricks that told me she was thinking about shit she'd never allowed herself to think.

"I-Is there damage? Did he..." Shit, I'd never thought about that before.

"Not as far as I know," she whispered.

I pressed my forehead to hers. "If I could kill him again, I would."

She swallowed. "How would you do it?"

"Tie him up and throw him into my custom blend."

"Your custom blend?" she asked, confusion making her brow pucker.

"Yeah. Chem major, remember? He’d be awake as it ate him alive." I nodded. "I think that's