He Took My Vengeance to Covet Me

Chapter 2

Anthony's brow furrowed, his gaze as cold as a winter gale as he spat.

"Winnie, you're really something. Love him that much, do you? Willing to die for the bastard?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, done wasting words on him. Today should've been my wedding day—Ethan would come for me. He had to.

But Anthony's voice dripped like poisoned honey above me. "Sweet Winnie, I've spread word that hill bandits snatched you. Right now, your precious fiancé's burning with rage, too busy hunting those outlaws to ever guess..." His thumb traced my jugular. "I've stashed you right behind his study."

The black veil lifted, revealing a panel of glass.

"Suland State's finest—one-way bulletproof. Not even artillery could c***k it."

He gestured to Ethan's broad-shouldered silhouette beyond. "You'll watch him... while he never sees you."

My skirt rustled as he shoved it higher, his breath hot against my ear. "I warned you, Winnie—I'll f**k you where he can almost taste it."

He drank in my terror like wine. Shucking his shirt, he revealed a torso carved from granite.

I thrashed—until the blade's kiss at my throat stilled me. His laugh was a serpent's hiss. "Corpses don't get vengeance."

He knew. My veins iced over.

He cradled my face with grotesque tenderness. "Your family died to keep you breathing—don't waste their gift."

Tears streaked my cheeks as his hand slid downward. My back bowed against my will when his scorching palm claimed my breast.

"Be good," he purred, "and I won't take you... until those wounds close."

As my body relaxed, Anthony's touch grew more aggressive—his hands shifting from gentle caresses to rough exploration, his mouth joining in with relentless hunger.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, thighs clenched tight. One hand groped my breast while the other slid lower, the unmistakable bulge of his arousal straining against his pants.

Desperate, I blocked his advance, voice hoarse as I protested, "You said you wouldn't go inside me."

"Not yet. I wouldn't enjoy it half as much this way." His smirk was dark, predatory. "Let me see what drove my pathetic brother crazy for you."

He shoved a pillow beneath me, forcing my legs apart until I was completely exposed. "Soaked just from me looking at you," he sneered. "You're such a slut."

Then his mouth was on me, tongue working in slow, deliberate strokes. My oversensitive body grew slicker under his skilled torment—utterly ruined. He licked, sucked, bit, leaving no inch untouched.

Pleasure coiled like a spring, waves of desperate need crashing over me until I couldn't hold back a broken moan.

"No—ah! Too much... don't!"

My moans only made him rougher. His tongue curled deeper, dragging against my inner walls until I was a trembling, soaked mess. "So f*****g sweet," he growled against my flesh. "No wonder that weakling Ethan went against his own family to have you."

My body convulsed, torn between pleasure and desperate need, thighs clamping reflexively around his head. "Winnie," he taunted, voice rough. "Did you beg for him like this too?"

The name jolted me. My eyes flew open—and there he was. Ethan, just beyond the glass, hurling a stack of papers across his desk in rage as he barked orders at his adjutant.

Even after just one day apart, exhaustion had hollowed his face, etching dark circles under his eyes.

When I didn't answer, Anthony lifted his head—and the moment his gaze landed on Ethan, his face darkened with fury.

He gripped my jaw, careful to avoid the wound. "So, you really want Ethan to watch how I take you?"

I shook my head in terror, but the amusement in Anthony's eyes faded. One hand kept working my body while the other grabbed the bedside phone, tucking the receiver between his shoulder and ear as he dialed with practiced ease.

His fingers moved with deliberate precision—not too hard, not too soft—just enough to send waves of tingling pleasure through me. My scalp prickled as my body trembled under his touch.

"Anthony? Did you find Winnie?" Ethan's voice suddenly crackled through the receiver.

My eyes darted to the glass where he stood, phone pressed to his ear, his face tight with worry.

Then Anthony's fingers turned rough beneath me, his provocative gaze locking with mine. His lips curled as his skilled touch intensified—teasing, circling, driving me to the edge until I gasped.

Chuckling, he angled the receiver closer. Wet sounds echoed as his fingers worked.

"No. But those southwestern bandits have always hated our family. If they've got your bride... she's probably already been defiled."

Every muscle in me locked. I bit down hard, refusing to make a sound.

"Impossible!" Ethan's voice burned with suppressed rage. "I told you to send men first! What are you doing?"

Anthony's movements grew rougher, his grin widening. Struggling, I glimpsed Ethan through the glass—his impatience plain to see.

Noticing my distraction, Anthony covered the receiver and whispered lowly. "Winnie, tell me, what now?"

"Why don't you moan for him? Let him hear what a willing plaything you've become under my touch?"

As he moved to press the receiver against me, I wrenched the phone cord violently—the line went dead with a crackle.

Anthony's smirk disappeared instantly. "Winnie!"

I grabbed his wrist and pressed it against my dampness. My lips crashed against his in a desperate kiss, diffusing his building rage.

Then he took control, cradling my head to deepen the kiss until I gasped, thighs clamping around his probing fingers.

Having gotten a taste, his fingers teased me relentlessly while his hardness pressed against my belly. His guttural groans vibrated against my ear. "Winnie, if you'd surrendered like this sooner, we could've skipped all that suffering."

He flipped me over, wedging a pillow beneath my hips. The rasp of his belt unfastening sent panic through me. I lunged to embrace him despite my wounds. "Anthony, you promised not to take me today."

His jaw tensed, but he brushed a kiss to my lips. "Since my Winnie's been so good... your mouth will do."

I froze. Ethan had always worshipped me—never demanded this. "I-I don't know how—please don't make me..."

Humiliation burned through me as his eyes darkened. "Ethan's never tasted you like this?" He nudged against my lips. "Be a good girl, and I'll treat you well."

I turned away, but he forced my hand around his arousal. "Use your tongue, Winnie."

When I hesitated, he chuckled darkly. "Not exciting enough for you?"

I looked up to see Anthony's lips curled in a smile that never touched his cold, calculating eyes. In one swift motion, he slammed me face-first against the unyielding glass, his broad chest crushing me helplessly against the cold surface. A taunting voice dripped from above like honey laced with poison. "My little wanton w***e—this is what really turns you on, isn't it? You're dying for me to f**k you right in front of Ethan, aren't you?" I shook my head violently. "No... please, Anthony, don't..." "Then be a good girl and open up." Shaking like a leaf, torn between terror and shame, I could only kneel on the carpet with my eyes squeezed shut.

The lewd, slick sounds of my mouth working on him mixed with his guttural, hungry groans. Between strokes, I caught glimpses of the rapturous bliss contorting his handsome features. For one glorious second, I fantasized about putting a bullet through his skull right as he peaked. Oblivious to my murderous thoughts, Anthony fisted his hands in my hair—first stroking, then yanking me closer. The sudden movement made me gasp, my teeth scraping him. He let out a choked groan as his body convulsed in release. When the sudden, bitter heat flooded my mouth, I froze. Just as I considered spitting, his voice coiled around me like a serpent. "Swallow. Every. Last. Drop." With a shudder of revulsion, I choked it down. The bastard. Dragging me onto his lap with a predator's purr of satisfaction, he blew hot breath against my cheek. "Good girl." The night's chaos had left me reeling. Sated, Anthony let his predatory mask slip slightly as I sat stiffly in his arms—until three sharp knocks splintered the tense silence like gunfire. Every muscle in my body locked. Anthony merely growled, "Wait." Stealing a glance through the glass at Ethan's defeated, hollow-eyed figure outside, I finally released the breath burning in my lungs.

This secret room was likely the empty cavity between Anthony and Ethan's offices, converted by Anthony into a hidden chamber—probably meant for storing top-secret military intel.

Now that he knew my plan, he'd never leave me here.

While I was still processing this, Anthony had already dressed and stood up. I looked down at the tattered shreds of my dress barely hanging on, then lifted pleading eyes to him.

Anthony let out a dark chuckle as he swaddled me in the blanket. "Be a good girl and wait for me, Winnie."

With that, he opened the door and left, trapping me alone in the suffocating dark. The last sliver of light disappeared as the door snapped shut, leaving only the glow from the other side of the glass.

Gripping the tattered remains of my dress, I stumbled toward the glass. Even knowing Ethan couldn't sense me, a desperate, stupid hope still burned in my chest—maybe he'd notice me.

Ethan frowned suddenly, then stood and strode toward me. He paused just inches from the glass—so close I could've reached out if not for the impenetrable divide.

I pounded my fists against the glass, screaming, "Ethan! I'm here! Ethan! Get me out of here!"

But it was pointless. He was blind to me. Deaf to my cries.

His brow furrowed deeper before he turned to leave.

Crack!

A gunshot. A bullet whizzed toward Ethan's face.

"Ethan, duck!" I screamed, my voice cracking with panic.

My heart lurched as the bullet skimmed his cheek—before slamming into the glass inches from my face.