18. Cillian's Pov

Cillian

No woman walks into our dungeon and leaves without getting fucked. Imagine my surprise, wrapped around the hottest, tightest cunt I’ve had in a while and my brother flies across the room, shattering the full-proof glass walls, and my—our mate walks away angrily, her ass tight in that leather dress. Absolutely not.

It takes half a thought to shove my dick back in my pants and block the door before she can leave.

Her blue eyes are stormy with anger, hate and desire as she meets my gaze. “Move.”

Ah. That fucking accent. It messes with me, goes all the way to my groin.

“You can’t leave,” I tell her truthfully, even if I’m not a very honest man. “It’s against the rules. You step in here and you give something in turn before you leave. So, which of us is it going to be?”

Her eyes burn, bleeding from blue to black and it is all the warning I get before she grips my collar and smashes my back into the wall. My spine shudders and I blink, not from the pain cramping my muscles, but out