Page 50 of Dose

“Because I like watching you try.”

She glares at me for half a second, then pulls my hair hard enough to sting.

“Possessive bastard.”

“Mine.”

I kiss her before she can answer, swallowing the sound she makes when my pace turns harder. The table does not move. The walls give us nothing back. There is only her breath against my face and the pressure of her heels at my back.

“Daddy—”

“That’s it, baby girl.” My mouth closes over the mark Darius noticed, darkening the edge of it. “Let me feel you.”

She comes around me with her face buried against my shoulder, body shaking, my name muffled by my shirt. I follow her, forehead pressed to hers.

“Inside?” I manage.

“Yes.”

I come inside her and hold her until our breathing slows.

Her hair has fallen out of its tie. Her mouth is swollen. When I help her down, her knees falter once, and satisfaction moves through me, dark and primitive.

I make certain she is steady and take her to the washroom at the end of the corridor. After we clean up and straighten our clothes, she fixes my collar with the severe concentration of someone correcting a protocol.

“Ezra will infer,” she says.

“Probably.”

“This is your fault.”

“Completely.”

When we return, Ezra is exactly where we left him.

“The Atlanta route model is complete,” he says without looking around. “Your eleven-minute absence did not delay it.”

Isla stops. “You know?”

“The interview room is sound-damped. I know only that you left together immediately after discussing the mark on your neck and returned eleven minutes later looking less composed.” He makes one final adjustment to the model. “The rest is inference. I have no need for confirmation.”

“Thank you,” she says faintly.

“You’re welcome.”

He brings up the operational brief.

“Nikolai approved the Atlanta reconnaissance phase. Damon and Darius will lead physical entry. Theon will verify that the copied production and shipment records are genuine before the access team withdraws. I remain remote.”

“No disruption to manufacturing,” Isla says.

“No altered shipments, no temperature excursions, and no contact with the end facilities during this phase,” Ezra confirms. “If we cannot enter cleanly, we abort.”

“When?” I ask.

“The team departs in two days. The contractor’s maintenance window begins four days from now at oh one thirty local.”

Four days. Enough time to prepare. Not enough to make leaving her feel tolerable.