Page 126 of Primal

His gloved hand brushes her reddened ass—

I step between them before I even register the taser jabbing my spine.

“Back off,” Amanda hisses.

Derek laughs, tapping the tablet balanced on the altar. “Let’s skip to something more … interesting.” The screen lights up with another one of her checked boxes.

anal play.

My stomach turns. Bullshit. Not here. Not like this.

“What’s the matter?” Derek jerks his chin. “Can’t get hard for your girl?”

Payton’s fingers dig into the marble. Her breath stutters.

Derek sighs. “Dollface. Motivation.”

Amanda steps in, taser grazing my ribs. Her other hand dives for my zipper.

Like hell. I seize her wrist. “Don’t.”

The taser kisses my neck.

White fire rips through me. The world knives inward.

Amanda yanks my jeans open and shoves them halfway down. She jerks me off like she’s polishing another trophy. One more notch on whatever fucked-up scorecard she and Derek keep. Her black leather glove’s thin enough every stroke feels like skin on skin.

My body goes rigid—blood rushing where it shouldn’t, when it shouldn’t.

I want to puke. Bash my skull against the altar until it’s just red and silence.

Still, my nerves light up—craving only friction.

Don’t.

I grind my teeth. Think of the dead. Think of the blood still drying on the pews. Think of Payton.

Amanda doesn’t relent, as if she’s coaxing something useful from the filth.

And it’s working.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

The taser trails down—right under my sack. A crackling threat licking every exposed hair.

I hate it. Hate her. Hate every fucking jerk of her hand.

Hate the choked sound Payton makes when she looks back at me. At us. A tremor runs through her. Her armor’s cracking.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Amanda’s thumb swipes over the tip. I bite my tongue until copper floods my mouth—the groan slips out anyway.