He chuckled coldly. “No, I will not repeat. I showed kindness in bracing you against today’s events, yet you couldn’t grant me the courtesy of listening. I refuse to reiterate myself.”
Rolling my shoulders back, I tried not to worry about what my future held and only on what was important. “Please, I need my phone back.”
Jethro shook his head. “No.”
My heart sprinted. “But you said I could use it.”
“I did.” His lips twitched. “I also said you had to ask permission in order to do so. I want to check your history. Make sure you’re not disobeying the rules.”
Shit, why didn’t I delete my inbox?
“The rules?”
His eyes narrowed. “Rules, Ms. Weaver. I don’t have many, but I did request you didn’t contact your brother. If you’ve obeyed, you have nothing to worry about, and I’ll return the phone to you.”
Shit.
Not only had I been texting V, I’d also shared more with Kite than I wanted Jethro to see.
If Kes was Kite, Jethro would know of the connection I had with his brother. He would use that knowledge. He would hurt me with it.
I can’t let that happen.
I wanted to scream.
Standing as tall as I could, I said, “My brother knows.”
Jethro went still, his face tightening. “I suppose I should thank you for your honesty. I thought he would by now. The Weaver men aren’t ones for letting us take their women. Even with the correct paperwork.”
I glared. “You knew he would come for me?”
Jethro nodded. “I suspected, and your father, too. It’s been the case for hundreds of years. Do you really think your father didn’t come and try to rescue your mother?” He laughed. “What sort of man do you think he is?”
A man I never knew.
Jethro smirked, seeing my answer flicker in my eyes. He reached out, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “To lose faith so soon in the ones you hold most dear is the worst crime of all, Ms. Weaver. I hope, for your sake, he never knows how you doubted him.”
“Why are you telling me this? Isn’t it better for you if I feel cut off and abandoned?”
He shook his head, his fingers dropping from my ear to cup the back of my neck. “No. Where’s the fun in that? You were loved. You are loved. It’s more bittersweet to know the men who tried to protect you are now on the outside trying to break in to free you. It’s much more fun when there are more players in the game.”
I whispered, “I don’t understand you at all.”
He grinned, looking positively light-hearted. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
He gripped my neck harder. “Regardless, I like it.” His eyes drifted from mine to latch onto my mouth. The air between us went from sharp to lust-laden. His tongue came out, tracing his bottom lip.
My core warmed. I was too weak to ignore the masculine call of him, even while hating his guts.
His thumb caressed the column of my neck, both in a threat and a tease. “You won the other night. We both know that. But you won’t win today. Today is mine. Today, you obey.”
I couldn’t breathe. His mouth came so close to mine, making me drunk on the anticipation of kissing.
He’d tormented me with the illusion of a kiss ever since we’d met: in the coffee shop, by the stables as I squirmed on his fingers, and now here. His lips were a fraction away from claiming mine. His breath smelled of mint and sin, and his fingers dug into my nape with everything he kept hidden.
A kiss could very well be the one thing that could shatter the icy wall he hid behind once and for all.
I swayed forward, trying to capture his mouth.
He reared back, clucking his tongue. “So eager, Ms. Weaver. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like the taste of me.” His brow lowered to darken his eyes. “You seemed to enjoy what I shot down your throat in the woods.”
That was how he wanted to play? Fine. I would play dirty. I had nothing left but to tear away any illusion of being an innocent seamstress and embrace this nonsensical war. I wanted to roll in dirt and filth; I would meet him on the battlefield and never back down.
“I did enjoy it. But not as much as you enjoyed sticking your tongue inside me.” Smiling coyly, I whispered, “Admit it, Jethro…admit that your mouth waters to have more of me. I bet your cock is hard right now, thinking of going where your lucky lips have been.”
I quaked with an odd combination of fear and confidence. “You could do it, you know. I wouldn’t stop you. In fact, if you want to know the truth—the deep, dark, bitter truth—I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you fill me, thrusting into me, stretching me to the point of pain. Want to know why?”
Somehow, I’d started this masquerade to get under his skin, but I’d successfully gotten under my own. My breath became a pant. My skin sparked with need. My core twisted with wetness.
Jethro’s lips parted, his fingers clutching harder and harder around my nape. “I know what you’re doing, and no, I don’t want to know why.”
The air throbbed thick and hot, threading around us with blatant need. “I don’t care. I’ll tell you anyway.” Licking my lips, I murmured, “I want you to fuck me, Jethro Hawk, so you can see that you may own my body, but you will never own my soul. By taking me, you’ll finally realize that I’m the strongest one here. That I can manipulate you into wanting me.”
Taking a huge risk and gambling with my life, I reached up to cup his cheek.
He flinched but didn’t move away. “The moment when you fill me, you’ll see. That moment when you douse me in your cum, you’ll be completely in my power. I’ll own you. A Weaver owning a pet Hawk.”
And when I’d collared and blinded him, I would use my bird of prey to hunt on my behalf. I would teach him to tear out the hearts of my enemies and obey my every whim. Because I was done being controlled. I was done being a girl.
I’m unconquerable.
Silence fell thick and cloying. We both didn’t move, our breathing ragged and torn.