Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,111

front on top of a pile of bodies, and Dark wastes no time climbing over him, positioning himself on Timber’s back.

The crowd gasps. My mouth drops open.

Dark pulls his head up by the hair and wraps one thick forearm around his neck.

Timber claws against him, but the man is immovable, barely breaking a sweat while he holds him there.

He chokes and tries to splutter.

His eyes bulge and it’s horrific.

I glance at Dark and find him staring straight at me, a smile growing on his lips as the seconds tick by.

Only when Timber stops moving does Dark drag his eyes away from me. He stands up and turns around to face the roaring crowd.

Maxim approaches the cage, a sadistic grin on his face, and when he throws the keys to Dark, my stomach drops to my feet.

It feels like being thrown into that glass tank of water.

It’s really happening.

They weren’t joking or putting on a show.

They really are throwing me to the wolves. Again.

This wolf, the wolf that’s crossing the small cage toward me.

He leans down, reaching around to get to the padlock, and I smell blood and sweat and something else.

Baron?

My arms drop to my sides, and I gaze up at him.

I should know him. I should be able to recognize him. And I should be able to smell him.

It smells like him.

Something flashes across his face.

Frustration?

Anger?

I’m not sure, but I don’t get the time to process because he grabs me by the neck and forces me down onto my knees before I can blink.

I try to scramble up when I realize I’m kneeling across Timber’s dead body.

Dark Eyes shakes his head as he moves, a smirk tugging at his lips. I realize he’d be handsome if he weren’t so terrifying. There’s something about his eyes, like pools of spilled ink, that renders me immobile.

I know I should be struggling. Scrambling. Kicking and screaming. But I’m frozen.

For a second, I forget I’m naked in the middle of a cage, in the middle of a ring, hundreds of pairs of eyes on me.

I forget about it all.

I’m supposed to be building the castle inside my head where bad men can’t do bad things to you, but I can’t get it to form. It doesn’t work anymore.

But I don’t know if I need it. I think this man—this man who I’ve never seen in my life before—I think he’s Baron.

He takes me by the hair and turns my body so he’s the one facing the crowd, and so the only part of my body they’ll see is my back.

He puts his hands down his shorts, and I notice, for the first time, the dark hair that trails down from his abdomen.

That’s one part of his body I have seen.

I’m not scared.

It’s him.

And then he pulls his cock out of his shorts, and I see something that has the blood in my veins turn to ice.

It’s not him.

And I didn’t even put up a fight.

39

Baron

My cock is still fucking raw, but I don’t let it stop me as I slide all three of the horizontal bars into her mouth.

I feel her body tense up as the realization dawns across her face.

That is when the struggling truly begins.

For a moment, I was convinced she knew it was me. There was a tiny bit of light in her mismatched eyes, and even though that might have pleased me, I knew I had to extinguish it quickly.

Is there a part of me that enjoys seeing her in distress? Well, maybe. Probably. But I am not doing this purely for the pleasure of it. I’m doing it because it must be realistic.

If Maxim suspects—even for a moment—that something is amiss, the whole thing would fall to pieces. I am locked in a cage and completely unarmed.

One shot and I’d be dead.

The thought of it makes my cock even harder.

My sweet girl’s hands don’t know what to do with themselves. She switches from trying to claw at my wrists—to free my fist from her hair—to attempting to push back against my thighs when I hit the back of her mouth.

But her strength is no match for me.

She feels exquisite. Divine.

I have missed her.

I have missed this.

I pull out and force her chin up so I can look into her eyes. She squeezes them closed while her bottom lip trembles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I ever set eyes on.

But I cannot dally long. I cannot revel in her reluctance.

We have a job to do. I must get