Page 109 of Specter Bred

I didn’t dare move.

"Teacup," he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite trust I was real.

"I’m sorry, sir," I whispered back. "We heard you screaming."

His hands fell away from my throat, as he shifted back, still straddling me.

"Fuck," he rasped, eyes locking onto the red marks already blooming beneath my jaw. "Did I hurt you?"

There was panic in his voice now.

His hands moved over me again, checking my neck, my shoulders, my ribs, searching for damage.

"Answer me. Did I hurt you?" he asked again.

"Not me, sir..." I started.

Behind us, Sammy groaned from the floor.

Graves’s head snapped toward him, his face darkening.

A low growl vibrated in his chest.

"You brought Farm Boy too?!"

Sammy pushed up onto an elbow, blood dripping from his split lip.

"I’m alright, sir," he muttered. "Looks worse than it is."

Graves’s eyes narrowed.

"Why the fuck are you both in my room?"

Sammy blinked, then looked confused.

"Uh... because you were screaming, sir?"

Graves dragged a hand down his face, shame flashing across his features.

"Cutter was supposed to give you both earplugs," he muttered.

"Earplugs?" I asked.

He exhaled hard.

"And warn you about, well... Alvarez and Cutter sleep with them every night. They know the routine."

"This happens often?" I asked.

"More nights than not," Graves muttered low, unable to look me in the eye.

The room went quiet.

Then his gaze moved back to me. To the shirt hanging off my body and the simple lace underwear that Sammy had taken off with his teeth just a few hours ago.

His nostrils flared.

"You smell like him."