6. Six Kai
Six: Kai
I lurked in the shadows, a smirk tugging at my lips as I watched Gia's empire—my father’s once mighty Cinder Crew—begin to crumble. The bitch thought she had it all: the power, the control, the fucking unshakable kingdom. But here she was, her ass parked on the velvet couch of her den, drowning herself in top-shelf vodka, one overfilled glass after another.
"Drink up, princess," I murmured from my spot just outside her window. It had been easy, too easy, to disable her security cams. The guy was my friend and she’d treated him like shit so all I needed to do was call in a favor. She was unraveling, and fuck if it didn't make my blood sing, watching her so out of control, so not the bitch who'd stolen my birthright.
A cold grin spread across my face; my eyes never left her as she tipped the bottle again, spilling some of the liquid down her chin. How regal she looked with that shit streaking her perfect pale skin, right? Ruthless Gia just another lush with too much booze and not enough sense.
Couldn't have planned it better myself.
I slipped away from the window as she stumbled upstairs towards her room, my heart hammering in my chest with a fierce kind of anticipation. It was time to invade her sanctuary. I had a little date with her tonight. The front door opened easily, courtesy of my buddy unlocking it remotely. Every step through the darkened hallway built on my excitement.
I’d been planning this night since the first moment I put my cock in her.
My fingers itched for contact, for violence, for the slick heat of her body beneath mine. That bitch may have thought she could own me, make me bow down to her, but she’d wake up tomorrow with an ache between her legs and come staining her sheets that would tell her the truth. She didn’t own shit. She didn’t even own the sanctity of her own dreams.
"Ready or not, Gia," I uttered, the words lost to the silence, "here I fucking come."
The door creaked open with the softest whisper of sound. I stepped inside, my boots silent on the plush carpet that fucking reeked of money. The room was a goddamn palace of wealth, every inch screaming her success — the same success she'd snatched right outta my hands.
Moonlight spilled across the bed where Gia lay sprawled out, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She was knocked out cold, vulnerable. Her white-blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, some spit falling from her lips. Well and truly hammered. I love drunk bitches. Easiest to fuck.
I stood there, hovering at the edge of her sanctuary, my eyes drinking in the sight of her. There was something fucked up about the way I couldn't tear my gaze away, even as my fists clenched with the need to wipe that serene expression off her face. She looked so damn peaceful, so fucking untouchable, it made my blood boil.
A part of me hungered to see that composure crack, to destroy her and leave her in the sewer to rot. I wanted to shatter her, to break her until she was nothing but a common whore. But the other part... shit, the other part of me wanted her in ways I couldn't even put words to. Dark, twisted cravings that would make the devil himself blush. And they were winning. I’d already experienced her in ways I never wanted anyone else to, but tonight, I’d experience her compliance. Something I knew she’d never given anyone.
My pulse throbbed in my ears, the rhythm of a predator closing in on its prey. I could feel the heat radiating from her body from here, calling to the beast in me. Desire and hatred tangled together in my gut, a mix that had me teetering on the edge of control.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, the room too quiet, too still for anything louder. Every instinct screamed at me to take what I wanted, to claim this moment of her downfall as mine. To leave my mark on her, indelible and crude, a reminder that she'd never be free of me.
I let the darkness within coil tighter, let it seep through my veins until I was nothing but a shadow fueled by vengeance and lust. My next move was clear — and I'd savor every goddamn second of it.
Gia's chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, her lips parted just enough to drive a man wild. Perfectly pert with that natural pink. I wanted her on her knees while I throat fucked her, but this would have to do. It would likely be as submissive as it would ever get.
"Sleep tight, bitch," I whispered, leaning down so fucking close that I could taste the remnants of her boozy breath. She didn't stir, not even a twitch, lost in whatever dream world she'd escaped to. She wouldn't even sense me here, wouldn't know the demon that haunted the edges of her empire had crossed the threshold of her sanctuary.
My boots came off first. Then clothes peeled off my body, each piece hitting the floor with a soft thud. Every muscle was tense, every tattoo that snaked down my skin felt alive—inked stories of violence and power. My chest heaved as I stripped, naked ambition laid bare. The cold air licked at my flesh, but the fire inside kept me burning, kept me hard and ready for the conquest. Pre-cum beaded at the tip of my dick, the throbbing making it hard to control the impulse just to wake her and fuck her while she screamed in terror.
But I didn’t. I held the thought at bay. My gaze traced the line of her jaw, the sweep of her throat, the rise of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. It was like staring down at a sleeping dragon, knowing one wrong move could wake the beast. But fuck if I didn't enjoy playing with fire. Hopefully the vodka had settled deep, creating a hibernation that would keep her under long enough for me to come and go.
My cock was rock solid, a weapon of its own accord, fueled by the sick blend of animosity and arousal. This was more than just lust—it was a power play, a statement. I was the one standing here, ready to claim a victory in the sickest game we'd ever played.
No more words passed my lips as I approached her, the only sounds were those of my ragged breath and the primal beat of my heart.
I walked around to the side where she faced, her unconsciousness an open invitation to the demon I harbored inside. The bed dipped beneath my weight, a silent testament to the sin about to unfold. Her lips opened with a sigh and I took my opportunity, nudging the swollen head against her parted lips.
She never stirred, her breath hitching only slightly around me as I slid into the warmth of her mouth. Fuck, it was like slipping into hell's own velvet, the heat and wetness coaxing a groan from deep within me. Her body's instinctive response to suckle had me pausing, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth as I waited for the alcohol-sodden haze to reclaim her. I fucked her mouth, ever so slowly, pushing in as deep as her sleeping form would allow before withdrawing, the effort causing my muscles to shake. God, how easy it would be just to grab her hair and fuck her brains out. Her tongue flicked out and her eyes pulled together. I stilled my movements, waiting.
The moment she softened, a rag doll once again, I withdrew, leaving the ghost of my touch on her lips. The rush was a living thing inside me, a whirlwind of rage and want that propelled my actions. I shifted, the beast of my lust guiding me down between her thighs. Panties, a flimsy barrier to her cunt, were shunted aside with a rough tug of my fingers. A pretty pink pussy waited for me. Already wet, dripping down her thigh and landing on the bed. Wonder what she’s dreaming about. A slight pain pulled in my side and I looked down at my stitches where the bitch stabbed me. They hadn’t torn, thank fuck, but yeah, they hurt.
A growl rumbled in my chest as I turned my head back to stare at her pussy, spread out and ripe for the taking. The sight of her, so vulnerable, so open. I wanted to fuck her into oblivion, to ravage her until all that remained was the raw, primal connection of flesh slamming into flesh. But that would ruin the magic.
I positioned myself at her entrance, the slick heat beckoning me to plunge into the depths of depravity. Without a second thought, I drove home, balls-deep, claiming her sleeping cunt with the force of my pent-up fury. She was tight, unyielding, but I pushed through, relentless, driving into her again and again. I stopped giving a fuck if she woke up. It wouldn’t matter. I’d strangle her if I had to.
Each thrust was a brand of ownership seared into her skin. This wasn't love or even hate-fucking; this was pure domination, the kind that left scars on the soul. Gia, the woman who thought she could control everything, was under me, being split open by my dick while the world outside remained oblivious. While she remained oblivious.
I reveled in it, in the way her body yielded to mine without consent. Without her knowledge. But I knew. And the thought almost made me bust inside her right then. Sweat beaded on my brow, my muscles sang with exertion, and every fiber of my being focused on the act of possession, of marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
Silence enveloped us, punctuated only by the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of her soaked pussy enveloping me whole.
The bed groaned under the weight of my lust. I moved inside her, each thrust punctuated with the raw hunger that had festered in me for so long. Gia's body was limp, her consciousness still drowned in booze, leaving her unaware of how I claimed her. It was fucking perverse, and it stirred the darkness in my core.
Her skin was soft under my rough hands as they roamed her ass, spreading her cheeks and feeling her asshole. Asleep, she couldn't sneer or fight; she couldn’t throw her biting words. This Gia was pliant, unknowingly submitting to my will, and it fucked with my head – stoking the fire of desire and hate that raged within me. I liked this woman. This version of her. The one who just… obeyed.
I savored the slick heat of her, the way she seemed to pull me deeper. My breaths came in harsh pants, the air thick with sex and sweat. I bit back a curse, focusing on the sensation, on the power that surged through me as I dominated the only person who'd ever truly challenged me.
"Mine," I whispered, every inch of her yielding to my relentless pace. The sound of my balls slapping against her echoed in the quiet room, the wet of her arousal an undeniable truth she wouldn't know had happened come morning. Hatred twisted with unwanted longing, and I hated myself for the pleasure that tore through me, even as I reveled in it.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. My come was thick and hot, a torrent of possession, splattering across the porcelain of her skin and onto her sheets. It was a mark—a crude, lewd brand of dominion. I dipped my finger in it and shoved it inside her pussy with a smirk. Maybe she’d realize what it was, maybe she wouldn’t. But come tomorrow, I’d see her and know.
I stood, muscles tensed as I pulled on my clothes and then my boots. Her bedroom door clicked shut behind me without a second look.