God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

“But I am. So why don’t you tell me why gagging and drugging are your only limits? Does that mean you’re fine with brutal flogging, spanking, breath and knife play, but can’t handle a simple gagging? What’s the philosophy behind that?”

My fingers tremble and I nearly spill the glass of water as I bring it to my lips.

“Can you not?” My voice is breathy, distorted.

“Can I not what?”

“Talk about that.”

“That? Oh, you mean your limits in primal play? How you like to be chased and used and abused like a dirty little slut?”

“Stop it.” I jerk up from my seat.

“Sit down.” His voice is nonnegotiable but calm as he slides his attention to my chair in a silent command.

“Please stop this.”

“Sit the fuck down.”

I slowly do, my heart beating loudly behind my rib cage. This is a dangerous man with dangerous actions. If I fight for the sake of fighting, he won’t hesitate to knock me into what he believes is my place.

“Now, answer my earlier question. Why are gagging and drugging a limit?”

I purse my lips.

“We can do this the amicable way or I can torture the answer out of you. I don’t have to say which option I’d like to try out more, do I?”

This sick bastard.

This bloody sick bastard.

“I had a bad experience with them,” I say so softly, I think he doesn’t hear me.

“What type of experience?”

I glare at him. “The type I don’t want to talk about.”

“Hmm. Is that also why you developed the kink?”

“No.” I had it long before that. Maybe I’m sick, too.

“Then was it because Landon is into that sort of play?”

I gulp the contents of my mouth and the door opens again as the waiter walks in with our food.

As soon as he’s out, I stuff my face with the soup, eating so he’ll stop talking and give me space.

Jeremy, however, doesn’t touch his food, and I squirm under the weight of his unwavering attention. “Are you that desperate for his attention?”

I choke on the soup and when I look at him, he mutters, “Pathetic.”

Beneath his callous edge, I detect a worse feeling. Disgust.

He’s revolted with me to an extent I didn’t think was possible for another human being to feel.

The shame I’ve been battling with since the night he touched me resurfaces again, much stronger and more potent.

But I manage to place my spoon down and preserve my composure. “If you think I’m so pathetic, why are you wasting your time with me?”

“Why do you think?”

“Can you stop answering my questions with your own questions?”

“No.”

“I’m leaving.” This time, I get up, intent on getting the hell out of here.

“No, you’re not.” He doesn’t even move from his spot.

“I’ll scream the whole place down.”

“No one will hear you.” His voice drops. “This room is soundproof.”

My gaze strays to the door.

“Only my people are out there, so don’t even try unless you’re in the mood to be manhandled.”

I take a step toward the door anyway. In a flash, Jeremy reaches me and appears like a wall at my back.

He grabs my jaw and directs my attention to the painting on the wall. “I’m going to need you to watch a live scene with me.”

Like in some sci-fi show, the painting is lifted and glass appears, revealing another room that’s similar to this one. Only the entire scene is different.

I gasp as the person on the other side materializes in front of me.

“See. Landon isn’t exclusively a member of that club. He’s a member of every club on this island and beyond. He doesn’t have one kink. He has them all as long as he can inflict pain. One of his kinks is exhibitionism, which is why he chose a room where anyone can watch him.”

Bile rises in my throat as Landon drives in and out of a bound, gagged, and blindfolded brunette at a maddening pace. The sounds mix with the graphic scene.

Groaning, slapping, gagging, moaning.

Sharp pain stabs my stomach. Then all of a sudden, I bend over and empty what I just ate on the floor.

Just like I did two years ago.

Just like back then, I can hear his voice over the ringing in my ears.

“You’re disgusting.”





9





JEREMY





Cecily’s not moving.

She’s not breathing properly either, considering the blue hue that flares beneath her skin.

Her eyes are fixed on the scene in front of us, but they see straight through it.

The slaps of flesh against flesh overlap with the brutal fucking and the raw gagging. One of her two limits.

Yes, I could’ve just told her about this, but she had to witness the scene for herself.

She had to see that her so-called prince is nothing but a hedonistic motherfucker who fucks more women than Satan himself. He’s insatiable, over the top, and most importantly, he couldn’t give a fuck about her.

She’s the pathetic and desperate one who’s holding him in high esteem when she should’ve cut him loose a long time ago.

I’ve planned to show her this part of him ever since I found out about her fixation on him, but I resorted to following her instead. If not for anything else than to find out her exact relationship with the fucker.