I shrug out of the shirt. His eyes widen, and I swear he snarls, handling me roughly as he lifts my arm, twisting me to get a good look at the bruising. They got me good this time because instead of trying to dodge them, I was trying to get a clear look at their weaselly asses. I wanted to remember every one of their faces, so I could personally gun them down later with a cannonade of paintballs. There’s bruising across the back ofmy shoulders, and bright purple blooming with an edge of puke yellow across my torso.
That look on his face … pure murder. Maybe he’d be down with our paintball retaliation? I’d love to see him shirtless and Rambo-style with a paintball gun in his hands.
“Stop thinking about me naked, McKinnon,” he scolds.
“Never.” I smirk. “Wanna see the bruise on my ass?”
“No distracting me. I’m not finished with you. What kind of numbskull retribution did you and your frat brethren plan?”
“I—” I open my mouth to lie, but his face is so hard, etched with lines of rage. He’s fucking scary right now. I’ve gone from “Would he join” to hoping I don’t get my ass handed to me. I rub the back of my neck.
He’s still staring at the bruises like they’ve offended him. Like Beta Sigma’s signed a death warrant by touching me.
Luke shakes his head. “No. If you so much as touch a paintball gun, you won’t sit comfortably for a long time, McKinnon.” His hands are on me. They slide over my shoulders, down my back, claiming me in a soft way, mapping out my skin as if he wants to make sure I really exist.
What’s going on in that beastly head of his?
“Promise me, McKinnon. Or do I need to lock you in this office? Don’t think I won’t. Unlike my brother, I don’t give a fuck who your father is.”
Right. The danger in his eyes isn’t just reserved for my enemies, but me, too.
“You don’t understand, sir. We have to do something—I have to do something. We can’t let them get away with this.”
He knocks on my skull. “Use this, McKinnon. I know you have a brain in there. Think democracy instead of brutality.”
That just sounds weird coming out of his mouth. He’s all brutality, even the air around him screams it. Oddly, it’s what draws me to him. He’s a giant wolf with big teeth that willdefinitely bite me if all goes as I hope it will, yet I want to cuddle up to him in a way I never have with anyone. Taking a chance, I loop my arms around him.
Luke freezes.
That’s different than the other day. Is it fear, or has he changed his mind? You don’t call something yours unless you desire it?
Right?
His chest rises and falls a couple of times. Then he relaxes, letting his body mold to mine. It’s fear then. But what’s he afraid of?
“Still haven’t heard the words I’m looking for,” he murmurs.
“Yes, Daddy. No paint guns.” What I’m gonna do with a full arsenal of nonrefundable paint guns is a problem for Future Me. “I’ll come up with something else.”
God, we’re bizarre. There’s so much fucking desire bleeding off us, you can taste it. Yet here we are cuddling in the middle of his office—there’s no other word for it.
“What did you tell Coach? He didn’t give me the ass kicking I deserved earlier.”
“I told him the same thing I told you.”
“Which is?”
A low rumble rises from his chest. It’s half laugh, half fucking purr. “That you’re mine, princess. I deal with you, not him.”
Shivers ripple down my body, my cock’s crying.
Hot hands climb up my bruised torso, ripping a hiss from me, finding my sensitive nipples. Circling. Toying. As if I’m just a plaything. A toy. He can use me or not. Torture me. Pleasure me. Leave me fucking wanting.
“P-Please,” I whisper, but it’s useless. He ignores me, of course. Daddy’s gonna do what he’s gonna do. And there’s still too much restraint there for it to go any further than this. If light petting is all I’m getting, though, I’m gonna eat it the fuck up.Show him that I can be good. Behave. Earn his damn cock if I have to.
He grips my face hard in one hand while he continues to pet me with the other. His fingers. Those fucking fingers. There’s a tender violence in them that I live and die by now. I want them to do everything to me.
“You like that, don’t you, princess? Having your nipples played with like you’re just a pretty doll.”
