Our Finest Moment ✔️

20

LIANA

I'm a mess.

A huge fucking mess of wobbly legs, smoke from put out fires inside and soreness. Because Colton fucked me. He did not take me, or claim me, or whatever it is one could say about an encounter like that. He fucked me, simple as that, and I'm now caught in a place where I don't know if I want to disobey him to make him do it again, or if I should listen to his every word to avoid it.

That's all there is in my head as I watch him walk around and growl questions and orders at a man who looks like he's pushing forty, yet I feel like he's just over thirty.

Rina is no better. She has a scowl so vile and cold I hope to never be on the receiving end of it, even if she's a gorgeous, gorgeous woman. It's pretty much a toned down version of what I'm feeling towards Colton at the moment, and I'm just a tiny bit ashamed of it.

I'm more ashamed of the fact that Dorian most likely heard my scream as I came around Colton's dick. Oh, what a dick it was. It filled me, so much so that the first few strokes were painful, but then the pain turned to bliss, and I adored it.

No matter how scratched up my butt is from the rough wall he pushed me against.

I've never been fucked like that, and I've never been so turned on in my whole life. Somehow, I think he knows, and I'm more than a hundred percent sure he's going to use that against me. I...I don't think I'd be fully against that either, and that scares me—especially as I watch him hold the knife that was just used on my clit, threatening to cut off that man's finger.

It can't be very sanitary, but does he care? No, I don't think he does. I just hope it was clean before he used it on me.

The man in the chair is crying, that's what I see when I refocus on the situation in front of me. Rina groans and rolls her eyes, before she sends me a tiny smile. Does it convey compassion, or am I imagining things? I smile carefully back, and straighten my back, hoping there are no bruises around my throat that can actually be explained as sex-bruises.

"I don't know anything about any murder in my territory, I told Rina," the guy says with a broken voice. "And I sure as hell did not betray you. I'll be careful not to leave my cigarettes anywhere near crime scenes again, just please let me keep working, Mr. Radley!"

Colton huffs. "Fine," he groans. He runs his hands over his face and turns to me with a both bored and extremely frustrated look on his face. I can tell this didn't go as he hoped, and I somehow want to hug him and comfort him.

But I don't.

"If you hear anything, report to Rina, Dorian or myself," Colton then says, his eyes locked on mine. "And if I find out you're lying," he adds, turning his head slowly towards the man tied to the chair, "or I just get bored of your desperate crying, you're dead."

"Crying?" Rina questions with a snort. "It's more like weeping."

Colton grins. "You're right," he states.

He walks up to me and takes my hand in his, pulling it up to his lips. He stares into my eyes as he kisses the backs of my fingers, one by one, and then he smiles. My stomach flutters, and I want to kick him away, but I know this is a show. I can tell. He's showing me off as his bride, to make this man tell everyone he meets that Colton Radley is marrying Harold Henderson's daughter.

"I thought she died," the man mutters, and when my eyes move to him, I see he spoke to Rina.

They're both watching us, Rina with more of a smirk than the man. Obviously, because she knows this is all a trick. "Everyone thought she died," she replies dryly. "Colt didn't know who she was when they met, and neither did she. He helped her find out, and they've been inseparable ever since."