Page 186 of Arrow

“You think I see you as a possession?”

“Don’t you?” I challenged, arching into his touch. “Your mark on my neck, your bruises on my skin. What else would you call it?”

He growled, low in his throat, then spun me around to face the one-way mirror. His chest pressed against my back as he forced me to look at our reflection.

“Look,” he commanded, one hand splayed across my stomach, the other tilting my chin up. “Tell me what you see.”

Below us, the club continued its debauchery—bodies writhing, deals being made in dark corners, pleasure and pain intertwining in a symphony of flesh. But in our reflection, I saw something else—a woman who wasn’t cowering, wasn’t subdued, wasn’t broken. I saw myself, eyes bright with defiance even as Arrow held me against the glass.

“I see a woman who belongs to no one,” I said, my voice steady despite the heat pooling between my thighs. “I see a woman who knows exactly what she wants.”

His fingers tightened on my jaw, forcing my gaze to remain on our reflection. “And what do you want, Harlowe?”

I met his eyes in the mirror. “Everything. Power. Freedom. You.”

He made a sound between a growl and a laugh, his free hand sliding down to cup me through my underwear. “You already have me,” he said, his voice rough against my ear. “The question is whether that’s enough.”

Below us, a woman screamed in ecstasy, the sound floating up through the glass like a ghost. His fingers pushed aside the thin fabric, finding me already wet for him. His satisfied grunt vibrated against my back.

“Trakhni menya.⁠* This pussy is always ready,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside me without preamble. “Even when you’re testing me.”

I gasped, my hips bucking against his hand. “Maybe that’s why I test you.”

He pumped his fingers slowly, deliberately, his thumb circling my clit. Through the glass, I could see Irina watching the crowd below, her eyes scanning as if searching for someone. For us, perhaps.

“She was my father’s mistress,” Arrow said suddenly, following my gaze. “And his informant. She told him everything—who was loyal, who was plotting against him. She was his eyes when he couldn’t be everywhere at once.” His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made my knees buckle. “She was there the night he killed my mother.”

I gasped, both from his revelation and the way his thumb worked my clit in tight circles. “Why is she still alive, then?”

“Because killing her would be too merciful.” His teeth grazed my earlobe. “And because she’s useful. She still collects secrets, only now she sells them to me.” He twisted his fingers, making me moan. “She wants you because she thinks you’re my weakness.”

“Am I?” I challenged, grinding against his hand.

He laughed, dark and dangerous. “You’re many things, Harlowe Virelli. A weakness isn’t one of them.”

His free hand moved to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal and leather obscenely loud in our private sanctuary. I heard his zipper, then felt the hot, hard length of him pressing against my ass. He withdrew his fingers from inside me, bringing them to my mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he commanded. “Taste how wet you get for me when you’re being difficult.”

I opened my lips, taking his fingers in, tasting my own arousal mixed with the salt of his skin. His eyes locked with mine in our reflection, pupils blown wide with desire. He replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing inside me in one smooth thrust that made me cry out against the glass. With one hand gripping my hip and the other tangled in my hair, he began to move, each thrust driving me harder against the window.

Below us, I could see the club pulsing with movement—a dark, writhing mass of bodies in various stages of pleasure and business. The glass vibrated with each of his thrusts, making me feel like we were on display even though I knew no one could see us.

“Everyone down there,” Arrow growled against my ear, his pace relentless, “thinks they own a piece of this city. But they’re all just playing at power.” His hand snaked around to grip my throat. “Real power is this—knowing exactly what someone wants and controlling whether they get it.”

I moaned as he hit a spot deep inside me. My hands splayed against the glass, leaving sweaty imprints as I braced myself against his assault.

“Is that what this is?” I gasped, pushing back against him. “You controlling me? Showing everyone how powerful Arrow Romanov is, fucking his enemy’s daughter.”

His laugh was dark velvet against my skin. “We both know better than that.”

He was right. This wasn’t control—it was a collision, two forces of nature meeting at their breaking point. I watched our reflection in the glass, my face flushed, lips parted, eyes wild with a hunger I’d never been able to tame. Arrow behind me, his face a mask of beautiful violence, eyes never leaving mine even as he drove into me with enough force to make the mirror rattle.

“Look at them,” he commanded, jerking my chin down so I could see the crowd below. “They’re all searching for something they’ll never find. But you and I—” He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust that made me cry out. “We’ve already found it in each other’s destruction.

I shuddered against him as the truth of his words sank into my skin, deeper than any mark he’d left on me. We were mirrors—dark, cracked, reflecting the worst and most beautiful parts of each other. His cock filled me completely, the angle making me gasp with each thrust as he pinned me against the glass.

Below us, I spotted Orion moving through the crowd, scanning faces. Looking for Arrow, no doubt. The meeting we’d abandoned was still in progress. The thought of those men waiting while Arrow fucked me against this window sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t explain.