The morning after our blood soaked night hits like a hangover from hell, but instead of the usual quiet recovery in the penthouse, chaos erupts.
I'm still sore...every muscle screaming from the fisting, the whipping, the way Theon's c**k stretched me raw, but duty calls louder than pain. I slip into my black tactical gear, the remains of the spiked collar hidden under my shirt collar, tucked away like our dirty secret.
Theon's already barking orders into his phone, his red velvet robe swapped for a crisp white shirt that hugs his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to show the fresh cuts on his forearms from last night's knife play. He glances at me, eyes dark with that possessive fire, and nods.
'Stay close, pet. Family business turns ugly today.'
We pile into the armored SUV with a sk
