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She presses her cheek against my chest, and I feel the tension running through her like a live wire. “Then how do I know what’s mine?”

“You know because you’re choosing it now.” I pull back enough to look at her. “Ari, wanting Hunter or me or Timothy to be rough with you doesn’t make you broken or damaged. And it sure as fuck doesn’t mean somebody else gets to define what your body wants.”

Her lips tremble. “So you don’t think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Not even a little.” I press my mouth to her forehead. “If you want him to be rough with you, then you want him to be rough with you. That’s yours, Ari. Not Hunter’s. Not mine and sure as hell, not some psychopath we know loves to play headgames.”

She looks up at me, and there’s something so fucking vulnerable in her expression that it nearly destroys me.

“And if someday, you decide you don’t want it anymore, then you tell him. If you want something different, you tell him that, too. But don’t you ever stand here and tell yourself there’s something wrong with you because you like being fucked a certain way.”

A tiny, broken laugh escapes her.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Doll Baby,” I assure her once more. “And whatever the fuck that asshole put in your head, I’m not letting him take this from you, too.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into my touch. She’s so goddamn pretty, and she’s been through so much. It makes me want to head into the night and make every single person that’s ever hurt her pay. I can’t do that. Maybe the old DK, the one from the Stacks, could raise some hell on her enemies, but not now. Not when I’m wearing this ring.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t make her feel good.

“Hey,” I say, and those brown eyes flutter open. “Did Hunter at least get you off?”

She gives a small shake of her head.

“Well, that’s not okay.”

“It’s fine,” she says, trying to brush it off.

“Eh.” I push the blanket down her legs and climb over her body, settling between her thighs. “It’s not fine with me.”

I don’t know how to fix this–fix all the things that are falling apart and breaking around us. It’s my job to take care of her, to support Hunter and keep him focused. I stepped into a role, even if I have no clue what that means other than making sure my girl is okay.

That, I can fucking do.

I spread her thighs wider and pull her shorts to the side, finding her bare, warm pussy underneath. Dragging my tongue up her slit, I taste her. She’s still wet from earlier, slick and warm. I circle her pierced clit with the tip of my tongue, flicking the metal gently before sucking it into my mouth. Arianette gasps, her fingers threading into my hair as her hips roll against my face.

“You taste so good,” I say, lifting my head to look at her face. Her expression is twisted in a mix of pleasure and pain, because she’d told the truth before: she does like it rough, but that’s not what she’s getting from me tonight.

I devour her, taking slow, deep licks mixed with firm suction on her clit. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right while I keep working her piercing with my tongue. Her breath comes shallow and fast, thighs trembling around my head.

“Damon,” she says, my name rolling off her tongue. “Don’t stop.”

Her thighs tighten around my ears as she inches toward the edge. I suck on that hot little bundle of nerves until her body shudders around me. When she comes, it’s with a broken moan, her pussy clenching around my fingers as she floods my tongue.

I stay there until she rides it out, licking her gently through the aftershocks. The rise and fall of her chest slows, and her breathing returns to normal. She looks down at me with heavy, sated eyes.

“Better?” I ask, rising to brush my lips across hers so she can taste herself on me.

“Yes,” she whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

I watch her for a few minutes until her breathing evens out into sleep. Only then do I stand, grab my jacket, and head for the door. Hunter’s car keys are still on the table. His shoes are right where he left them earlier. He couldn’t have gone far. Sure enough, I find him out in the yard, closer to the treeline, calling for Ares.

“Ares! Komm!”

I shove my hands in my pockets and walk up beside him. “Can’t find him?”

“I left him out here earlier. When I–” Hunter runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Fuck. Ares!”

“He’s just out hunting,” I say, falling into step with him. I try to keep my anger in check, but it’s simmering right under the surface.