Page 35 of Edging Sanity

A smile tugged at Rowan’s mouth which she promptly shut down. “He preyed on the women in my unit. They couldn’t do anything because of his rank. No one believed them.”

“How’d you do it?” Delilah asked, her voice a sweet purr of temptation, burying Rowan deeper under her hold.

Rowan took another step closer, pressing her hand against the surprisingly cold stone beside Delilah’s head. She flexed the other one, remembering the burn of her split knuckles like it was yesterday. She hadn’t meant to kill him. But the rage had taken over when she’d found him on top of the poor sobbing woman. Not a single thought to the consequences had run through her head as she ripped him off and beat him bloody.

She didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until they were pulling her off. Red clouded her vision in a haze. Anger she hadn’t known since Darcy’s death funneled through her like power.

Of course, they’d swept it under the rug, buried the truth deep, and kept it all off record. A training accident was his official cause of death. They couldn’t have the truth exposed, not for someone of his rank, not when he’d been up against no fewer than fifteen sexual assault allegations. It would’ve stained his record and tarnished their unit. So they buried it. Rowan got a dishonorable discharge and a lovely threat to not talk or they’d bury her next.

“Beat the hell out of him,” Rowan answered eventually, her voice a whisper. They were so close that Rowan could see Delilah’s pupils dilate.

“You’d look good covered in blood,” she responded, studying Rowan’s face as she, no doubt, imagined what it would look like flecked in red. “I’d love to see your rage some day.”

Rowan didn’t know what to say to that after having imagined the reverse more times than she could count. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t replied, though, because Delilah was already moving. She took Rowan’s hand and guided it into her pants, letting Rowan feel exactly how turned on she was by the image of Rowan’s rage, of her bloodied and panting after having killed a man.

A quiet whimper left Delilah’s parted lips as Rowan slid her fingers through wetness, finding Delilah’s swollen clit with ease. Delilah tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, letting Rowan work her fingers inside as she pleased, scissoring them and feeling Delilah tense with pleasure. Delilah’s soft moans spurred her on harder and faster, seeking the desperate release she knew Delilah craved.

As much as Rowan wanted to take her time, to worship Delilah and taste her release on her lips, Rowan knew this was dangerous. There was no exterior lock on the door, anyone could walk in. Though the guards, in theory, would deter that, it was still a risk.

“More,” Delilah demanded in a breathy whisper. Rowan curled her fingers, grinding her palm harder against Delilah’s clit. Her hand was drenched, thoroughly fucking Delilah as she squeezed her own thighs together, seeking any friction she could get against the ache growing in her. Delilah was tightening around her fingers, quiet moans seeping through Rowan’s body and driving her own need higher.

She moved her palm, relishing the whimper of complaint Delilah gave her before replacing it with her thumb and swiped hard. Delilah let out a harsh gasp, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. Her cuffed hands grasped Rowan’s shirt, bunching it in tight fists as her orgasm grew nearer until it finally crested.

Delilah froze, her cunt pulsed around Rowan’s fingers, her breaths ragged. Then her legs started to shake and she let out a long moan that Rowan knew would be replaying in her mind for years to come.

When Delilah had come down from her high, Rowan removed her hand, holding eye contact as she licked her hand clean, closing her eyes as the flavor burst on her tongue. Delilah tasted so good, and Rowan feared she would always want more.

“Touch me,” she begged quietly, desperately. Unfortunately for Rowan, Delilah’s bliss didn’t make her agreeable. It gave her more power to flaunt, to lord over Rowan.

“Earn it,” Delilah countered, her voice light and breathy, but her gaze was wicked.

“How?”

“Kneel.”

Rowan dropped to her knees with embarrassing speed, clutching Delilah’s hips. Her mouth watered with anticipation even though, in the back of her mind, she knew this was going too far. Knew they’d get caught if they didn’t stop soon. And this was a much more compromising position than before.

One of Delilah’s cuffed hands gripped Rowan’s chin, tilting her face up. “How far would you go?” she asked in a low, goading whisper. Her thumb brushed over Rowan’s bottom lip, making Rowan whimper. “Would you… kill for me?”

Rowan’s silence was as damning as if she’d spoken the words aloud. Delilah’s wicked smirk slipped into place. “Do it,” she whispered, her grip tightening on Rowan’s chin. “Kill for me and you’ll be rewarded.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Who? Rowan shouldn’t have let the question slip from her lips. She shouldn’t have shown just how desperate and willing she was. Delilah would take it and run if she realized exactly how under her thumb Rowan was. How gone Rowan always had been for her. Rowan was fucked. She was addicted. She’d fallen into the deep end and was gladly drowning, lapping up whatever filthy scraps Delilah threw her.

Her thoughts and actions didn’t belong to herself anymore. She was an extension of Delilah, controlled purely by the base instinct of desire.

When Delilah’s smile curved and her gorgeous mouth opened, the name on her tongue was the last one Rowan had expected. Brinks. Rowan’s guard, the one she’d screened and hired herself only a year ago. Her second in command until a mere five minutes with Delilah had turned him into a pathetic puppet.

The one who Delilah had threatened. The one who had lied to Rowan.

Delilah didn’t tell him she was going to kill his only child if he refused to comply. She threatened to expose him for abusing the poor thing, to kill him—not the kid—next if he didn’t do exactly as she demanded. But her plan had never included letting him live. She had always intended for Rowan to kill him.

It was evident in her words as she fed Rowan the name, the expectations, the method.

Rowan asked how Delilah had known about him, what proof she’d had, but Delilah only laughed before she pushed Rowan away and claimed she was done being outside. She left Rowan to scramble to her feet and rush to the door before Delilah pushed it open by herself.