3
Faith
My entire body felt like it was on fire.
Two men were manhandling me. My wrists were locked behind me in fancy alien handcuffs. My shoulders were torqued too far, aching.
Even with that discomfort, all I could do was stare at Lord Thordis Jax. At his lips, still wet from mine. At the huge c**k tenting his pants. The feel of it as it pressed against me. At the dark urgency I saw in his eyes.
He wanted me, and I wanted to let him have anything he wanted. Which made absolutely no sense.
“You should let me go.” I wasn’t addressing the guards, or Lady Jax—who stood next to her mate with her chest heaving. I had to assume it was pure rage running through her body. Rage that I’d been in her room, digging through her things? Or rage that her son had had an erection the size of Texas
