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“Be still, tiny scorpion, before I remove your stinger and take what you owe me right here, right now, in front of my men and your mother.”
She freezes. Her pulse beats a frantic tattoo against my digits. The vulnerable innocence in her eyes fills me with intoxicating power.
With feral need pounding through me, I flip her onto her stomach and press my knee to her lower back. She kicks, but I catch her ankle and pull my knife from its sheath. After slicing the laces, I jerk her boot off her foot and toss it across the room before repeating the motion with her other boot.
Her balled fists and flashing eyes warn me of retaliation, so I continue my hunt for weapons. I lift her belt away from her back and sever it with a quick flick of my knife. She vibrates in indignation and fear, but I shuck every layer off her bottom half and cut a slit up the back of her three shirts.
A faded grey sports bra with fraying straps spans across her upper back. I stick my fingers under the material and poise my blade to slice through the fabric. Her knuckles turn white and red stains the floor as she presses her arms into the debris. A coppery version of her dark spices joins the scent of my blood. I snarl, cut her bra, sheath my knife, lift her by her throat, yank the material from her body, shrug my shredded leather jacket from my shoulders, and wrap it around her before she reacts. By the time she thinks to lift her arms, I’ve already wrapped the sleeves of my jacket around her and tied them together, pinning her arms to her sides.
The bottom hem stops at her upper thigh—her clenched knuckles peek from the fabric—and the lapels leave much of her cleavage on display, creating the most erotic picture I’ve ever seen, but it covers her important bits.
Until I toss her over my shoulder and the bottom hem rides up to expose the curve of her ass. She jabs her toes into my solar plexus, her surprisingly accurate aim and powerful force revealing the truth.
Like father, like daughter.
He taught her how to fight.
A thrill rushes through me, even as pure hatred freezes my soul.
He no doubt taught her every dirty trick imaginable, which shows how deep his betrayal runs.
Because I taught him everything he knows.
I’ll enjoy breaking his daughter and molding her to my will. Nothing could be sweeter than defiling the offspring he sought to hide from me.
And if the tiny scorpion is as aggressive in the bedroom as she is on the battlefield, I’ll savor every single moment of challenge.
I’ll win in the end.
She’s mine.
Chapter 3
Vynn
Electric heat jolts through me as the giant, terrifying alpha slaps my ass. Hung over his shoulder like a sack of rubbish—with his jacket pinning my arms to my sides and my hair falling around my face—I’m trapped in a world overflowing with him. His wild, rich masculine pheromones sink into my bones and loosen my joints. The warmth still emanating from his jacket seeps under my skin and melts my muscles.
His massive hand settles over the area he spanked, spanning across both cheeks and covering where my ass and legs meet. The heat of his palm emanates where no man has ever touched before, filling me with terrified nausea. My mouth dries as liquid warmth pools low in my belly.
I silently curse my traitorous body. His pheromones are too potent. Too rich. Too enticing.
“Treat this as your first lesson. No one damages what’s mine except for me. Understand, tiny scorpion?”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. His shoulder digs into my stomach, but his chest vibrates against my thighs while the hard muscles of his back tease my breasts, sending shockwaves through my fear.
He brushes his thumb along the crease of my ass and shifts his hand until his fingers splay over my right cheek and his thumb pad rests millimeters from my pussy.
“Does lesson two need to be how I don’t repeat myself?”
“N-no. I understand,” I manage through both the lump in my throat and my gritted teeth.
His hum arrows straight to my core. My jaw aches as I fight against the heat raging in my center and I pray the liquid warmth of my unwanted desire doesn’t spill from my body and give me away.
“Good girl. Now make as much noise as you can as we walk down the hall, just in case your father’s calling card wasn’t loud enough,” he says as he spins toward the door.
The metallic tang of his blood clogs my sinuses. I arch my back and strain to catch sight of my omma, but his stiff leather jacket pulls tight over my shoulders and my lower back seizes.
Fire streaks across my backside as the brute smacks my ass again. An unconscious yip escapes from me before I clamp my mouth shut.
