“Bullshit.”
I lean in, close enough for only her to hear. “You don’t want to know what just happened.”
“Try me.”
I look at her one last time. Really look. She’s gorgeous—yes—but it’s more than that. There’s steel under the silk. A core that hasn’t cracked, even after years of captivity. She’s not broken.
She’s burning.
And she’s mine.
I want to tear down every wall in this place. Kill Petru. Drag her out. Lock the galaxy behind us.
But I can’t. Not yet. Not here.
So instead, I hold out a hand.
“Come with me.”
She hesitates for half a second. Then places her hand in mine.
It’s like static—sharp and hot and final.
And just like that, we walk out of the room together.
Not a word spoken.
But everything changed.
CHAPTER 6
KELLI
The air in Traz’s quarters hangs thick with the sharp scent of oiled leather and something warmer, like smoldering cedar. His fingers brush the strap of my dress, calloused but deliberate, pausing as if testing the weight of the silence. My breath hitches—not from fear, but the raw thrill of control slipping from my hands, willingly. The fabric falls beneath his touch, cool air kissing my collarbone. I don’t look at him. Not yet.
His voice rumbles low, a graveled hum. “You’re shaking.”
“Not from cold.” My reply is softer than I intend. The second strap slips free, his knuckles grazing the hollow of my throat. I tilt my head, daring to meet his gaze. Green eyes flicker, a storm trapped behind glass.
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t flinch. His palm flattens against my ribcage, heat seeping through the thin fabric. “Why now?”
The question isn’t a challenge. It’s a key turning in a lock.
I step closer, my bare foot brushing his boot. “I know you. What people here say about you. You don’t ask for things. You take them.”
A muscle tightens in his jaw. His thumb traces the curve of my hip, possessive yet hesitant, as if mapping terrain he’s swornnot to claim. The dress pools at my waist, his breath catching when I reach for his wrist. Not to stop him. To anchor him.
“My name's Kelli. Say it.” My name fractures on his tongue, rough-edged, unfamiliar.
“Kelli. You’re not what I expected,” he murmurs.
I press his hand to my pulse, a wild rhythm beneath his palm. “Neither are you.”
The confession hangs between us, fragile as the space before a fall. His lips graze my temple, a ghost of contact, and for a heartbeat, the mercenary vanishes. What remains is a man unmoored, his armor cracked by the quiet rebellion of a touch.
The dress falls completely; a golden halo around my naked toes. My nipples perk as cold air brushes them. My silk panties are all that's keeping me as Petru's prized pet.
The air shifts as Traz steps closer, his shadow swallowing the dim light. His voice is a low command, not unkind, but unyielding. "Now you. Undress me."
