and picks the douche up by his throat, ignoring Priest when he calls his name, and walks over to the mirror above the sink. He smashes the guy’s head into the reflective glass over and over until the guy passes out and the mirror is smeared with his blood. Bates tosses him to the floor, then kicks him in the dick for good measure before stalking toward me.
“Bates,” Priest yells, but I’m not scared.
He swings me up into his arms and carries me out of the tiny bathroom and down the stairs, out of the garage, and into the early evening sun.
People have gathered around, watching and wondering what the fuck is going on, I’m sure, but they don’t stop and ask. Nobody sets foot near Bates, giving him a wide berth and making our journey up to my room easier to navigate.
We make it upstairs without being stopped and without speaking a single word to each other. He places me on my feet by the bed before locking the door. Turning to face me, he stalks back to where I’m still standing with a look on his face that can only mean one of two things.
He’s either going to lose his shit or he’s going to fuck me senseless.
Either way, I’m prepared.
Chapter Thirty
Bates
I try to pull the anger back, but the red mist suffocates me with what-ifs. Prowling toward her slowly, I wait for her to flinch or scurry away, not that it matters. I’m not letting either of us leave this room until the demon inside me quenches his thirst. In the bathroom, the demon wanted bloody vengeance. The only thing stopping me from ripping the prospect’s head from his shoulders had been the faint scent of Reign’s perfume that had managed to penetrate my senses.
Now she stands in front of me, barefoot from where I hauled her out of the garage, looking calm as she waits for my next move. She doesn’t tense up or back away from me fearfully. She stands languid and ready for whatever I throw at her.
“Strip,” I order, my voice a guttural growl.
She obeys immediately.
Clenching my fists at my side to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing her, I watch as she pulls her black tank top over her head and quickly unfastens her bra, dropping both items to the floor. Next, she pops the button on her shorts and shimmies out of them, followed by the tiny scrap of purple lace, leaving her bare to me.
I move my eyes over her body, taking in every delicious inch of her skin while I search for marks, bruises, or any kind of blemishes that would result in one dead prospect.
“Turn.”
She does as I ask as I continue my inspection of her. Luckily for the prospect, she seems mark free. That doesn’t mean he’ll be walking away. That would be pretty difficult with the two broken legs I plan to give him.
“Bend over.”
She pauses for a minute before bending over, keeping her legs straight while planting her elbows on the bed in front of her. Walking around her, I move to the dresser and pull out a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube.
I turn and see her watching me, the first hint of wariness flashing across her face, but she masks it well. I don’t say anything to comfort her, I just move to the chair by the window and drag it directly behind Reign’s perfect ass.
I like that she’s wary, she’d be stupid not to be. I might not want to physically hurt her but the dark in me feeds off her fear, urging me to push her past her limits.
Tossing the lube and condoms on the chair, I undo my belt and unfasten my jeans, shucking them down my legs with my boxers until they catch on my boots. Bending, I pull the whole mess off and toss them out of the way before sitting on the edge of the chair, my face in line with the prize.
So delicious and wet and all fucking mine.
“Bates, what are you—”
“No talking,” I snap before grabbing her ass and pulling her cheeks apart. Leaning forward, I lick from her clit to her ass in one swipe, growling as her taste explodes on my tongue.
She whimpers but manages to refrain from talking as I spend the next thirty minutes torturing her with my tongue and fingers. I flick, lick, and suck until she’s a quivering wreck.