***LONDON’S POV***
I stay by Micah’s side while the doctor checks him out. My heart keeps pounding whenever he groans or tries to escape the needle.
He had sustained a bullet wound and from what the doctor said, was shallow. I don’t care, this has to do with my brother and I am overprotective.
“We need to leave him to rest. In case of anything, a couple of painkillers should help him out if he is in pain,” the middle-aged man says as he wipes his hands clean on a white towel.
Streaks of Micah’s blood remain on it and although I do my damnest best to ignore that, my brain had a mind of its own.
Leaving Micah to nap, I go in search of Zane. He is in the office, and I hear voices coming from inside. When I knock and enter, they hush down to silence.
“Hey baby, I was having a conversation with Reaper, if you would excuse us for a second,” Zane says, a strained smile pulled across his lips.
Instantly, I shake my head in negation, taking a stubborn stance.
“No, Zane. I want a word with you, and unless you don’t want your goons involved in this conversation, I will suggest you ask them to wait nicely outside,” I bark out crossing my hands across my chest.
Zane grits his teeth as he stares between me and his men. With a chin lift, Reaper, Caleb, and three other men I’ve seen once in the past scramble out of the office.
Standing there in Zane’s office, his watchful eyes on me make me feel aware of my body, my slightly protruded belly, and the anger on my face as a sackcloth.
“What was that?” Zane finally cracks the silence.
“Me gaining my husband’s attention because he wouldn’t look at me. Now, why are you avoiding me?” I question staring daggers at Zane.
“What? Who said I was?” he spat out in disgust.
“You were. I need answers to this bullshit that shut happened. I expected you to give them to me, not run away when you found out Micah was injured,” I bark out.
“Do you want to calm down, baby girl?” he questions and I shake my head, disgust filling my features.
“No. There is no calming down happening here. Tell me what I want to hear before you feel sorry for not doing so earlier,” I threaten taking several steps toward Zane.
I watch how something dark changes in Zane’s expression. I knew I should stop taunting him and act right but I was frustrated, and I needed to remove some of the steam I was feeling.
‘Maybe going to Zane was the wrong idea,’ my mind provides.
“Come here, London. Do you want to have a dirty mouth? Go ahead I wouldn’t stop you, but you know what this would cost you,” Zane fires out.
“What? Me having a red ass?” I question sounding bored.
A cracked laughter feels Zane’s voice, his eyes hooded as he stands and walks towards me.
I make an attempt to step away but my husband’s strong hands capture my arms, locking me to him.
“You think painting your ass red is what I need now? No! You’ve got it wrong. On your hands and knees now,” Zane barks as he sits on the chair before his desk.
“No!” I say.
Zane removes his belt and forms a loop on my neck, tightening it, I drop to my knees and he widens his legs.
His cock is bubbly and so damn erect when he brights it to me my face.
“Suck!” he orders.
I shake my head but he uses his cock to slap me across the face.
Fuck! Talk about the craziest thing I have done for sex, and this would be the first on my list.
My lips part and Zane’s massive cock penetrates my wet lips and I contemplate cutting it off.
I know Zane would kill me if I tried. Well, he wouldn’t necessarily have to kill me like I think, but at least, I would end up in bad shape. A really bad one.
I close my eyes and start dick-sucking Zane. There is nothing gentle there. Zane uses my mouth for his pleasure and my throat tightens as the invasion.
“You will never use this mouth to insult me again after this session unless you want me to cut off your tongue,” he says, buckling his waist and going harder into my throat.
“Mind you, London. I know a few ways you would be useful to me without having you running your little tongue around,” he says, brushing my hair out of my face.
Hatred burns across my chest, pain flashes in my eyes as well and I look at him with hate-lust eyes as my head throbs a few more times.
And then, Zane’s creamy pie fills my lips and I swallow it like the good girl that I am.
“Damn it! You take me so well, London. I could forget this little stunt of yours after just making me cum so hard,” he states chuckling.
Slowly, he removes the belt from my neck and I move backward, my eyes on Zane’s face. He doesn’t look as mad as he was a few minutes ago, but a smile curls up his face.
The bastard.
As I scramble to my feet, I know I should leave this conversation like this, I shouldn’t poke the bear, but the brat in me is activated.
Swirling my hair out of my face, I glare at Zane’s freshly cum face and blurt out to his face,
“Michael is a better fucker than you,” I shriek out.
The moment Zane hears those words, I know that I fucked up.
“What did you say?” he asked approaching me.
I make a run for the door but his massive arm circles my waist.
He clears his desk, pushing everything to the ground as he slams me over it.
“Zane!” I screech out using my arms for support. That only gives my bottom out and exposed.
Two slaps crease my ass.
“Ouch!” I cry out, enjoying the pain.
I’ve missed this. It is a shame I have to put up a shame to get Zane’s hurt me.
“What did you say?” Zane ask.
Throwing my head behind me, I capture his eyes as I speak.
“That… Michael Logan fucks better than you,” I blurt out teasing him.
This isn’t funny and I will regret it. But for now, let me see how far I can push Zane’s daddy button.