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“N-nothing.”

“Liar.” I tighten my hold when she struggles. “You heard Ghost, didn’t you?”

She turns her face away, refusing to answer.

“Look at me, Kaylie.”

Those blue eyes finally meet mine, blazing with fury.

“I heard enough,” she snaps. “If you’re going to give me back, I’d rather take my chances out there.”

Give her back? Over my dead fucking body.

“Nobody’s giving you back to those bastards.”

“That’s not what your friend said,” she huffs.

“Ghost doesn’t make the fucking decisions around here. I do.” I shift both of her wrists to one hand and grip her chin, making sure she’s looking at me. “And I’ve already told you—you’re under my protection.”

“Then let me go.”

“Not while Demon and his men are out there looking for you.”

Her eyes narrow, that familiar defiance returning.

I should probably give her some space, but fuck if I can bring myself to release her. I roll my hips against her, letting her feel exactly what that fire does to me.

She gasps, her eyes widening.

One side of my mouth lifts. “You’re going to be the death of me, Little Mouse.”

I release her chin, dragging my hand along her jaw, then down her neck. The white tank she’s wearing is tight, fitted perfectly to her body. It’s low-cut, too, showing off the perfect swell of her tits.

My feather-light touch traces her creamy skin. Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter closed, giving me a sick sense of satisfaction.

She wants me.

Even covered in fading bruises, she’s beautiful. Her nipples are hardened and practically begging for exploration.

My hand finds the hem of her shirt, fingers hovering at her midsection. I watch her, waiting for her to tell me to stop. I wasn’t lying when I told her I don’t take advantage of women.

But God damn, I think I’m actually praying that she won’t deny me.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

She arches into me, but that’s not a yes, so I ask again.

This time, she meets my eyes. “Yes,” she whispers.

Her eyes find mine as I slip my hand up beneath the fabric and trace the underside of her breast with my knuckle. Her eyes flutter once more, and she moans.

“If I reach my hand into your panties, what will I find, Little Mouse? Will you be wet for me?”

She gasps when I cup her breast. My thumb traces her nipple, and I continue to stare at her. She’s so responsive to my touch. It’s intoxicating.

The barely audible moans and whimpers she makes as she arches against my touch have me losing my mind.

Tugging her top down, I release her breast and take a nipple into my mouth, laving and sucking until she cries out. After giving her other breast similar attention, I say, “What do you want, Kaylie? Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”