Oh my God.
My heart pounds as I watch the fight in horror. Hale gets in another hard punch, and Zaid grunts.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hale shouts, rage burning in every syllable. “Don’t you know who she is?” His fist swings again. “She’s the daughter of our goddamn enemy. That makes her our enemy too. Did you forget that? Did it slip your fucking mind?”
There’s a crash as Zaid’s body falls to the floor, at last giving up. He put up as much fight as he could to keep his dignity, but ultimately, Hale is his leader.
“You can’t be distracted by her. We can’t fucking trust her.” Hale stands over his friend, his hands still clenched into fists, blood smearing his knuckles. It smears Zaid’s face too, leaking from his nostrils and from a small cut near his eye.
My heart is thudding painfully hard, but as Hale stares down at Zaid, my gaze darts to the door.
This is my last chance to escape, I realize. The two men are distracted by their standoff, and I’m still untied. Maybe my attempt doesn’t have to be worthless after all.
As quickly and silently as I can, I scramble toward the end of the bed. My bare feet touch the floor, and I’m already sprinting toward the door. But before I can reach it, Hale’s focus snaps back to me, and he moves like lightning.
He slams the door shut again before I even open it an inch, and then I’m hauled off my feet and carried back to the bed, where he throws me down on the mattress.
The heavy landing on the hard, old mattress jars my fresh wounds, and I cry out in pain.
But any pity Hale might’ve once had for me has evaporated, burned away by the fury that still consumes him. Unrelenting, he pins me to the bed with his weight, reaching for the ropes that rest near the headboard.
Then his hands freeze in mid-motion. His eyes narrow.
Slowly, he pulls his body from off mine and looks down at my unzipped pants, then back at Zaid.
Shit. He didn’t notice that before.
Which means if Hale was pissed before, it’s nothing compared to the look that now takes over his face—his features contorting in anger and deadly rage. Fear washes through me as my breath stutters, my lungs unable to draw in enough oxygen. I don’t know what he’s thinking or what he’s planning to do, but the way his body has gone unnaturally still makes me feel like I’m staring at a predator about to strike.
His fingers settle at my navel as he watches Zaid, drumming a pattern into my skin. My body is already crawling with arousal from earlier, and my stomach clenches under his touch, my skin flushing with heat.
“So you really were… fucking with the enemy, weren’t you, Zaid?” Hale’s voice is calm. Too calm. Zaid shakes his head, pressing his lips together as if refusing to answer. His pants are half-unzipped too, hanging off his hips slightly.
Hale makes a noise in his throat, watching me in silent contemplation.
I close my eyes and swallow, trying to bite back the panic in my bones.
Put up a fight, Grace. Die fighting.
I need to be screaming and kicking and fighting my way from him, at least distracting him from whatever is on his mind, but I can’t. My body is frozen under the tips of his fingers as if they each weigh a thousand pounds.
“I thought you knew better.” Hale speaks to Zaid, but he never takes his gaze off me. “We can’t let the past blind us. We can’t let her fool us. She’ll lie, and she’ll use whatever we think existed before to manipulate us. Can’t you see that?”
Zaid still doesn’t respond, but Hale doesn’t seem like he expects an answer. His dark blue eyes burn with an inner fire as he drags his fingers down the flat plane of my stomach, then slides them beneath the waistband of my panties. One thick finger slides through my folds, and my breath hitches in my throat.
“You’re wet,” Hale murmurs, and now he is speaking to me. His voice is low and rough, but still devoid of emotion. “Is that a lie too?”
My chest rises and falls faster and faster as his finger drags slowly upward, and when it brushes against my sensitive clit, I bite my lip against the noise that tries to escape my mouth. Behind Hale, Zaid groans, the sound quiet and tortured.
“I think it is.” Hale’s finger circles my clit again, his face impassive as he watches me. “I think it’s all a lie.”
He dips between my folds to gather more of the sticky arousal there, using two fingers this time as he traces a slow, deliberate pattern over my clit. My toes clench, and I lock my jaw tight, trying to slow my racing heart and the flush of arousal radiating from my core, infecting my whole body.
Why does it feel so good?
How can any of this feel good?
The feel of Hale’s fingers methodically working my clit, combined with the two sets of eyes watching me, makes me feel like my skin is on fire. Like my whole body might go up in flames soon if I don’t find some way to extinguish this spark.
Hale’s dark blue irises look nearly as black as his pupils as he pinches my clit gently between his fingers, making my stomach clench. Given the rage that poured out of him a moment ago, I would’ve expected his touch to be rough and harsh. But it’s not. It’s restrained, controlled.
And that’s worse.
Because instead of forcing the pleasure on my body, overwhelming me and overpowering me with it, he’s making me chase it.
Against my will, my hips shift a little, trying to get more friction right where I need it, and a gleam of triumph flares in Hale’s eyes. He’s trying to make a point. To prove something to Zaid or me, or maybe to himself.
I hate the smug confidence on his face, hate that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, how badly I need to fucking come. My body has been through hell in the past several hours, and now he’s offering it a taste of pleasure.
A taste of bliss.
And even if I don’t want it, the animal in me is determined to claim it.
As another shock of sensation shoots through my body, I tear my gaze away from Hale—and my focus lands on Zaid instead.
He’s standing several feet away, his entire body taut as a wire. His green eyes are hooded with desire, and the moment our eyes lock, a rush of something unfamiliar floods my body. It’s like our souls are connected through our gazes somehow, like I can feel everything this is doing to him.
I know he notices every small jerk and twitch of my body as I try to fight down the pleasure rising inside me beneath Hale’s demanding fingers, and I can see his muscles tense in response. As if it’s taking every last shred of self-control he has not to stride across the room, rip Hale away from me, and bury his face between my legs.
Friendship be damned.
Syndicate be damned.
Orders be damned.
Hale hums low in his throat, a deep vibration that seems to fill my entire body. My hips are moving faster now, my body undulating and my heels digging into the bed, my hands fisting the mattress like I need something to ground me in this storm of sensation.
I can’t look away from Zaid. Not even when the pleasure I’ve been fighting so hard to resist finally crests, rising up inside me like a tidal wave.
He sees everything. I know he does.
He sees my mouth fall open, sees the look of raw ecstasy that sweeps my features, the way my body shudders and quakes under Hale’s touch. He sees me shamelessly ride his friend’s hand, so lost in the need of the moment that I can’t remember what any of this means anymore.