“How old were you?” Monty’s hand strayed from the ground to ease inside the blanket covering Emmett’s back. His fingers rubbed gently through Emmett’s thin shirt. The warmth from that touch spread through Emmett like wildfire, sparking his blood, invigorating his limbs, exciting his libido.
Emmett found himself leaning into the gentle touch. “Twelve.”
At twelve years of age, Emmett had left the sea, forced into slavery for Kim Ji. In her warehouse where he worked, he had often caught glimpses of the Dragon Lady but hadn’t been allowed to look at her directly—the one time he dared to make eye contact, she’d struck him so hard, he was out for two days and when he woke, it was with a hellish migraine. Emmett could still remember the shackles he’d been forced to constantly wear while enslave
