Primal Pursuit

Part of me always thought there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t like the other girls because of my past, and that none of the guys I dated or slept with came close to scraping the surface because it was covered in so much scar tissue no one could get it.

Turns out I was wrong.

Someone could. Someone can.

Someone who does things to me no one elsecould possibly want. Someone who sees something in me, and it lights him up, too.

Davian fucking Stark.

Murderer. Assassin. Parent killer.

I despise what he is, what he’s done, and yet I throb for him and will drop to my knees in a sleazy strip club and blow him.

It’s like finding a part of home I never knew about.

Schrodinger’s rabbit? He’s fucking right.

I turn from Davian to the tattoo artist. “Do it,” I say again, this time with more conviction. And then I look at the monster once more, taking in the ravenous gleam, the half-smile of filth. I almost orgasm as I look at him. I’m betraying myself, willingly. I have my plan, and I’m going to follow it. But I’m so caught up in this game that I can’tnotplay it.

I know it. Because I’ve never in my life felt this truthful, this real, this right. This alive.

“Take off the fucking dress, Rabbit.”

I swallow hard as I raise my hands to the straps of the dress. There’s another man in here, which makes this a little harder. I know Davian finger fucked me, spread me open to everyone watching at Myth. But this is way worse. Way more dangerous. Too intimate. Real.

“Do it, Rabbit, or use your fucking word.” He doesn’t even bother stepping closer to me, and next to him are all his toys, things he bought in that eye-opener of a sex shop he took me to. “Or do you want me to cut it from you?”

Behind me, Jackson takes a breath, but all Davian does is cut his gaze to the man and he falls silent.

“Well?”

I glare at the big bad wolf, and I push the dress off with shaky fingers, letting it fall at my feet.

Now the guy behind me speaks. “Hot fucking damn.”

My breath catches.

“Wheel out the massage table you use for long back sessions, Jackson.” Davian’s gaze is back on me. Hot, moving slow, as he drinks in every single part of me, lingering on my pussy that’s got to be red and swollen and glistening.

He licks his lips like I’m a meal.

The wordmonsterpushes for freedom. But there’s a dark voice in the back of my head telling me I’m a monster, too. One he’s claimed. Marked. And what’s worse? I let him. I allow him to do all of this to me because I fucking like it.

I love it.

I pushed that stripper tonight. Shoved her hard. I didn’t care either way about the kiss she gave me, that tiny slide of tongue. She was soft, sweet, and so different from a man, but it was just a brief kiss.

What I cared about was he forced that kiss to happen.

What I couldn’t stand was she touched something of mine like she could.

And I shoved her like I’ve staked my own claim. On him.

I close my eyes and try to breathe, my stomach knotted.

“Eyes open, Rabbit. You’re nice and wet, and red. Get on the fucking table, or I’ll ask Jackson to join me in viewing your wares. Maybe invite him to touch?”

My eyes snap open.