He saw me. I was sure of it.
Rook went at his opponent like a hurricane. A tatted hurricane with storm cloud eyes and a shock of black hair. And fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing I’d seen in my entire life.
His muscles rippled and flexed beneath the ink with each skillful blow. His focus was singular. Blind to the world around him as he danced and parried around Conor Jones, making him look a fool.
This man was born to fight.
Conor landed a blow to Rook’s jaw, tearing his lip. Blood dribbled down his chin and splattered on the floor. He wasn’t shocked though, I could tell he was grinning even with the mouth guard making it look more like a grimace. It was in his eyes. The high he was getting from not only inflicting pain, but receiving it as well.
I began a slow walk around the perimeter of Sanctum’s underground club, getting different angles on the fight. I was certain of it on the next hit Conor landed; Rook had allowed it. It wasn’t a lucky hit. Rook was letting the pasty-skinned fucker hit him on purpose. A slow grin spread over my lips, and I shook my head, unsure what to make of that.
I would have my work cut out for me with him. If Rook got close enough, I wouldn’t be able to take him on my own. The admission stung. I ground my teeth, but it was the truth. It was why I’d come. I needed to know what I was up against.
Grey was a challenge, but I could take him if necessary.
Corvus… I had no fucking idea because I’d never seen him lift a finger. All he needed was his voice and the authority it commanded to get shit done. For all I knew, he could be a crap fighter. But I knew he packed heat, and I had no doubt about whether or not he knew how to use it. Learning to shoot would’ve been one of the first things Diesel St. Crow taught his adopted son.
Rook, though…seeing him now, he was not only dominating this fight, but also playing with his food like an animal toying with his kill before the final blow. I knew that if I had any chance with him, it would need to be at a distance.
I needed to brush up with my blades.
I’d practiced throwing all of twice since I arrived at Briar Hall. I’d need to keep that skill more honed than that if I stood a chance.
The first round came to an end and while Conor fell onto his stool and barely had the energy to lift his head to accept the straw his buddy offered him, Rook paced the ring. Only when Corvus climbed up and corralled him to his corner, did he go.
I paused my slow turn about the room and narrowed my eyes, watching Rook come back to himself. The faraway look in his eyes faded, and his heavy breaths subsided. He blinked, and it was like whatever possessed him in that ring was gone. He’d managed to beat back the beast within. Rook sagged a bit and pushed away the water, shouting something at Grey I couldn’t hear over the crowd.
Grey’s eyes narrowed, and his head turned on a swivel. Corvus’ did, too.
Fuck.
I spun, finding a heavy dark curtain and slipping behind it. It was dark back here, but I could make out the shapes of heavy bags, weights, stools, and other equipment. Not a gym exactly, that would likely be under lock and key, but maybe a storage area.
I waited until the bell rang again and the second round started before I leaned against the wall to peer out the slit at the edge of the curtain. The burning desire to watch Rook too much to deny.
My lower lip stung as I bit down on it, getting momentarily distracted by his ink. It covered him almost completely from his waist up. Two full sleeves stretching down to cover his hands. One of them stretched over to cover his right pec and creeped up the side of his neck. And his back…holy motherfucking shit. His back was fully covered in an angry crow captured mid-flight. Surrounded in expertly shaded clouds that appeared to be dripping blood instead of rain.
In the myriad of black lines and swirls and shapes, I could see stars, feathers, flowers, a portrait of a woman with long dark hair. And a roughly done tally grid running up the inside of his left forearm.
I could imagine what it was meant to keep track of.
He was a fucking masterpiece.
If he was a Saint, I might have to start praying.
No, Ava Jade.
Shit.
My stilted breath left my lips in a sigh, remembering why I was here. Why I needed to…
What did I need to do?
Blood burst from Conor’s nose as Rook landed a vicious hit, his eyes slanted and wild as whatever demon inside of him took over once more.
I double checked to make sure no one could see me from my dark corner, hidden away behind the curtain, and licked my lips as an ache formed between my thighs. I twisted, leaning back against the cool wall to try to stifle the need, but it was too strong.
I hitched up my dress and braced my heel against the edge of a flat bench and tipped my head to the side to keep eyes on Rook through the slit at the edge of the curtain as he accepted a blow from his opponent and made a show of looking dazed when the sharpness in his stare told me he was anything but.
Moving my damp panties aside, I circled my slippery cunt, biting down hard as the sensation pulsed through my whole body, making my legs shake.
Holy shit.
Rook jabbed Conor in the ribs, and I swear I heard bone crack, even over the roar of the bloodthirsty crowd.
I moved my fingers faster, breaths coming hot and quick through my parted lips.
This is bad.
This is so fucking bad.
This is incredible.
Rook’s dark eyes swung over the crowd between blows, catching on mine. A wicked curve drew up one corner of his bloodied lips and my lips parted in a silent surrender as my orgasm threatened to send me to my knees.
“Sparrow.”
I froze, gasping as he pulled me from the wall. As my back met the solid warmth of his chest, his fingers curled around my throat, securing me to him. I blinked, my blade freed without thought from its sheath between my legs, the pointy end jabbing threateningly into his thigh.
“Let go,” I gritted out, fury racing through me, tainting my still burning desire. Trying to figure out how he’d crept up on me from the shadows behind the curtain. Where and how he’d even gotten back there. “Let go or I’ll cut your artery and leave you to bleed out back here on the fucking floor.”
“If you were going to cut me, Sparrow, you’d have done it already.”
My breath caught as he slid his other hand down my ribs, inching lower. I writhed against him, angry as fuck but also aching to finish what I’d started.
He guided my view back to the slit in the curtain with his thumb, squeezing my throat in a way that made me shiver. I caught sight of Rook striking like a cobra, his lithe body a weapon made of flesh.
“Watch.” Corvus breathed against my neck. “Watch him all you like, but it’s me you’ll feel. It’s me you’ll come for.”
His fingers grazed my inner thigh, and I squirmed, pressing more firmly on the blade, enough that I knew if I pushed any harder, it would slide right through his thick denim and into his flesh.
“Fuck you.”
Corvus’ fingers slid higher, brushing against my wet opening. His body shuddered against mine, and his breath came in a gush of heat against the back of my neck. “Go ahead, then,” he said, his voice low and teasing. A rumble against my spine. “Tell me to stop.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The scent of him, like leather and lead was seeping into my nerve-endings, making them misfire. The truth I wouldn’t dare utter hid within the confines of my lips. Unable to be spoken.
I don’t want him to stop.
From my periphery, I watched as he lifted his damp middle digit to his mouth and slid it over his tongue, sucking off my sweetness.
“Mmmm.”
An ache spread low through my belly, and I tried to look away from Corvus’ finger in between his lips, away from Rook. Tried to force the insatiable need to dissipate, but Corvus only tightened his grip on my neck, prodding my line of sight back to his brother.
“Watch,” he commanded, emboldened by the fact that I hadn’t refused him. He had no idea that his force was only turning me on even more, or maybe he did know. Maybe this Crow knew exactly what he was doing.
When he slid that same middle finger and one more inside of my throbbing cunt, my back arched, and my mouth popped open on a moan. My grip on my blade faltering.
I wouldn’t come, I decided as he began to pump his fingers into me, circling my wet clit with his thumb. I would not come for him.
“That’s it,” he cooed roughly against my cheek, and my head fell back as he did some fuckery with his fingers that was seriously going to make me fall apart.
No.
“Stop fighting it,” he growled, speeding the movements of his fingers. “You will come for me, Sparrow.”
“No,” I managed through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”
Somehow, the round changed from second to third, and the sound of the bell ringing again sent Rook flying into action. Different this time. He wasn’t holding back anymore. His movements were reflexive, not practiced. He was a beast caged in human flesh as he dragged Conor Jones around that ring, pummeling him like he was nothing more than a sack of meat and bones.
“Yes,” he rasped. “You will.”
“Fuck,” I managed past the stopper in my throat, trying so hard not to let on what both of them were doing to me.
Rook landed the perfect blow to Conor’s jaw, and his eyes went blank as he stumbled back, dazed and trying to regain his wits. Covered in blood from his temples down to his chest.
The chanting changed. They were no longer shouting for Conor, they shouted for Rook.
Rook, Rook, Rook.
“Finish him!” I heard Grey roar above the cacophony of voices.
Rook stepped up, and I cried out, my core tightening to beyond anything I could control. I squirmed in Corvus’ grip, and he fought me the whole way, forcing me to come just like he promised he would.
No.
His merciless thrusts and rough circling of his thumb came impossibly faster, finger fucking me to within an inch of my life as Rook took the final swing.
I came hard on Corvus’ fingers as Conor Jones hit the mat and Rook was declared the winner to a roaring crowd. My blade hit the cement floor with a clatter as I rode the wave of my orgasm, my knees weak and shaking.
He withdrew his fingers, and I spun away, but his fist around my throat remained, and he pushed me to the wall, his mouth finding mine in a cruel, bruising kiss. His hard length pressing against my belly.
The sound of my own moan broke me free of the trance he had me in, and I chalked it up to low O2 levels.
I thrust my arm up and knocked his away, freeing my throat while I used my other to grip him and pull, twisting us until he was the one backed up against the wall with my forearm across his throat. Shock registered in his cold eyes for an instant before his gaze leveled out into a wicked sort of triumph.
I pushed hard against his windpipe as I shoved myself away, making him cough to clear the ache from his throat.
He laughed ominously to himself as I collected my blade from the floor and pulled my dress down to cover the evidence of what he’d just done. What I’d just allowed him to do. My face turning a shade of red that I hoped the shadows concealed.
“Hope you got what you came for, Sparrow.”
“Go fuck a goat, Corvus.”
The bastard laughed some more as I pushed through the curtain and back out to the chaos of the main floor. I shoved my way through the throng of wealthy drunks to leave, feeling Rook’s eyes on me all the way to the exit.
