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Grabbing what I need, I move over to Shepherd, kneeling down in front of him. Without a word, I take his hand and start cleaning it.

We’re quiet for a little while. He doesn’t make a peep, doesn’t flinch when I poke at the bloody bite mark.

Damn, I really did a number on him. I shouldn’t feel bad, but I do.

When he finally breaks the silence, his words catch me by surprise.

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out low, almost as if he didn’t mean to speak out loud.

“Sorry?” I ask, eyes flicking up to his as I put the last bit of tape on, keeping the bandage in place.

He licks his lips, looking hesitant. “For last night.”

“For kidnapping me?” I arch a brow.

He snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck no. There’s not an ounce of regret in me for that.”

“I can tell.” I go to move, pulling my hand away, but he stops me, grabbing it with his injured one.

It’s like a bolt of electricity shoots through me, making my heart start to race. The warmth of his touch seeps into my bones.

Staring up into his blue eyes, I can’t help but see him in a new way, knowing what I know now.

It sends a lick of heat right to my core.

“Sometimes I forget that while we know you’re ours, you just became aware of it. That even though in our heads, you’ve been our girl for as long as I can remember, in reality you had no idea who we were. Last night, I saw an opportunity to live not only one of my fantasies, but one of yours. I let the excitement of the moment get to me, and for that, I’m sorry. Because that was something personal, something to be talked about with a partner. If it was someone else who had done that to you, instead of me or my brothers, I’d have slit their throat. I’d never hurt you, Cove. Not on purpose, I’d never do something to you that you didn’t want. I need you to know that.”

Fuck. Fuck Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to be mad at him when he’s looking at me with his big puppy dog eyes filled with worry?

“Do you hate me?” The vulnerability in his voice chips away at my walls.

“No,” I sigh. Because I don’t. Even though I’m pissed about everything they did, I’m not mad.

“Are you afraid of me?”

I should be. Any sane person would be. But that’s the thing: I’m not sane, and we all know it.

A wave of unease fills me. Because I’m not mad about it. Not at all. And that’s the problem. I should be. I shouldn’t even have sick, fucked up fantasies like that, let alone have written them down where someone could find them.

“No,” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

Fingers grip my chin, and he forces me to look up at him. “Don’t you dare be ashamed.” His eyes search mine.

I lick my lips, each breath I take coming in quicker than the last.

His lids lower, giving me a dark look. “Did you like what I did to you?”

Don’t answer him, Cove. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

“You were so wet for me.” His voice is a husky rasp. “The way you gushed around my cock, making a fucking mess of your bed while you came. Tell me, Bunny, what were you dreaming about while I was fucking that tight perfect cunt?”

I suck in a breath, my core aching, nipples brushing against my shirt as the memory of my dream, that wasn’t a dream at all, replays in my mind like a 4k movie.

“You don’t need to answer that.” The cocky smirk is back. “I know you were dreaming of me. You came so perfectly for me, Bunny.” He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “I want to fucking live inside that pussy. I’m addicted, Cove.”

Fuck. Is he going to kiss me? Fuck, I want him to kiss me. What is wrong with me?

“I meant what I said. I plan on making every dirty little fantasy inside that book come true. Can I do that, Cove?”