Chapter 9 #2
Not missing a beat, I turn and spin the knife so I have a hammer grip again before I do two quick stabs to the lower back, hitting exactly where the left kidney would be before circling around and thrusting the knife right beneath the sternum.
I give it a good twist before pulling back and slicing the blade along the inner thigh of the third dummy, hitting the exact spot that would sever the femoral artery.
When I train, everything else fades away and now is no exception.
I forget about everything except the kill.
Every stab, every slice, every mark I leave is purposeful and precise, and by the time I’m finished with the last dummy, I know exactly how each one of them would’ve died and how long it would’ve taken had they been human.
My breathing is heavy but controlled, and when I wipe my hand across my sweaty brow, I hear Cyn’s surprised gasp from behind me.
A part of me had been aware of her presence, but I’d lost myself in my training, and it takes me a second to gather myself before I turn to face her.
I’m expecting and fearing the worst, but her green eyes aren’t filled with fear and disgust. She looks amazed, like she’s in awe of everything she’s just seen instead of being repulsed by it.
“How did you learn to do all that?” She clasps her hands in front of her, the prayer-like motion so at odds with what she’s just witnessed and so very out of place to do in front of a guy like me.
My knife is still in my hand, but I lower it down to my side when she works up the courage to walk towards me. Stopping less than a foot in front of me, she looks up at me, eyes lit up with excitement as she waits for me to answer.
“My little sister’s husband taught me to fight with a knife. My dad taught me to fight with my fists,” I tell her.
Her eyes dart to the mutilated dummies around us, some of them still lightly swinging. “But you make it look so graceful.”
“Countless hours of practice, little Cyn.” I look around us and shrug. “I’ve spent years doing this.”
She studies me for a second. “You really love this, don’t you?”
My mind races, trying to decide how honest I should be, but there’s no use denying who and what I am, not anymore, not since I’ve decided to keep her.
I give her the brutally honest truth and say, “I do, but I love it even more when they’re alive and bleeding.
” I give the dummy next to us a light push. “This is a sad substitute.”
“Have you always felt like this?”
“For as long as I can remember, yeah,” I tell her. “Ever since I was a kid.”
“Does your family know?”
“They do,” I admit. “Some more than others, but everyone knows I’m a little,” I pause, searching for the right word before I say, “different.”
“But you don’t want to hurt me?”
She looks so fucking innocent, staring up at me with those beautiful green eyes and that bloody red hair that I adore.
“I don’t, krovinka.” Reaching up with my free hand, I curl one of her locks around my finger. “Not like the way I usually hurt people, not like what you just watched me do to those dummies.”
Her eyes widen slightly when I step even closer. “So you do want to hurt me?”
There’s a hint of fear in her voice, and I don’t hate it.
I like hearing it, because I know she’s safe.
There’s something about her wondering, though, that really turns me on.
It’s not terror, more like a what if that’s very much tinged with arousal.
Her pupils are blown, her breathing heavier than it was a few seconds ago, and I’m willing to bet she’s as turned on as I am right now.
“Do you?” she asks again, and her impatience makes the corner of my mouth lift just as it makes her squirm and shift her weight from foot to foot.
“I thought I didn’t.” I graze my fingers along her jaw and then down her neck.
“But then I keep thinking about the way you’re going to scream when I slide into you, and I have to be honest, my little Cyn, it really turns me on to think about you squirming on my cock, unable to get away, trapped and spread wide while I feed you every thick inch of me. ”
“Sasha,” she whispers, looking equal parts scared and turned on.
Her fingers clutch at the bottom of my shirt, using me as her anchor while she sorts through everything she’s feeling.
We’re an odd mix, she and I, but somehow it works.
Most people run from me, but she seeks me out, and not only that, but she actually takes comfort from my presence.
I don’t hate it. Instead, I find myself longing for it, wanting to be the safe place she craves and needs.
Her voice is whisper soft when she says, “I’m not so sure I’m ready for all that.”
“Then we wait,” I say.
“Just like that?” she asks, and I can hear the doubt in her voice.
Without taking my eyes off hers, I stab the knife I’m still holding deep into the stomach of the dummy that’s hanging next to us and then reach down to cup her ass so I can lift her up and bring her closer to me. She lets out a surprised gasp and then wraps her arms and legs around me.
“What are you doing?”
She looks so adorably confused that I can’t help but grin and say, “I’m holding you.”
“Put me down. I’m too heavy.”
“That’s absurd, and no.” I lean in, brushing my nose along her neck as I breathe in the sweet scent of her. “I fucking love your coconut shampoo.”
“I’m being serious,” she insists. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
I ignore her and nip at her neck. I run my tongue up her in one long lick before whispering against the wet skin, “I will wait as long as you need me too, krovinka. I don’t want you to be unsure about our first time. I want you dripping wet, legs spread wide while you beg me to fuck you.”
A shiver runs through her, and then her fingers are threading into my hair, and she’s letting out a breathy moan that’s impossible to resist. She might not be ready for sex, but there are other things we can do, and right now I want to do them all.
“I want to take you to my bed,” I say, and when I feel her body tense, I whisper, “I just don’t want to be cramped on the couch, Cyn. I promise I won’t push things or do anything you don’t want to do.” My teeth scrape the crook of her neck. “I need room to worship you. That’s all I want to do.”
I feel her nod before I start to carry her to the stairs. On our way, I grab one of Chort’s favorite chewy bones and toss it to him. He grabs onto it midair and trots over to the couch, jumping on it and happily gnawing away by the time I start to carry Cyn to the upstairs loft.
“Your place is really amazing.” Her mouth is near my ear, the heat of her breath sending a shiver down my spine. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
“Aside from family, you’re the only person who’s ever been here.”
When we reach the top and she eyes the king-size bed, she asks, “Really? I am?”
“You are.” I carry her over and gently set her onto the dark grey blanket. “And now you’re the first person to ever be in my bed. Besides, Chort, of course. He insists on hogging the damn thing every night.”
She smiles at hearing that and then pats the down comforter. “It’s comfy.”
I can’t help but grin. “I’m glad you think so.”
Knowing it’s going to be pure torture, I still feel the intense need to be as close to her as possible, to feel her body pressed against mine and to hear the soft little moans I know she’s going to make.
It’s going to be a true test of my willpower, but I still want it.
I want as much of her as I can get, as much as she’ll allow me to have.
When I brace my hands on either side of her, she scoots back, giving me more room as I slowly make my way up her body until I’m hovering over her.
Resting my weight on my forearm and knees, I run my eyes over her.
I never once thought I’d ever have a woman beneath me, but now that I have Cyn here, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
I know it’s only because it’s her. I wouldn’t want anyone else lying beneath me, staring up at me with those beautiful, trusting eyes.
“You look good in my bed.”
She smiles up at me while her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck.
Every touch makes my pants a little tighter, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m going to be painfully hard from here on out.
My dick wants to be buried inside her, and it’s dead set on screaming its anger to the world until it gets its way.
Pulling me closer, she whispers against my lips, “Kiss me, Sasha. Show me that sweet side that no one else gets to see.”
I don’t make her ask twice. With a groan, I cup her face and press my lips to hers.
She opens for me, letting me in deeper as my tongue brushes hers, the sensation forcing my hips to instinctively rock up, just like I would if I were sliding into the wet heat between her legs.
She’s too short for our bodies to line up properly, so it’s her thigh that my cock is rubbing against. It still feels fucking amazing, and when she moans and hikes her other leg over mine, trying to get our bodies closer, I know I’m in serious danger of losing control.
My hand slips under her shirt, and this time she doesn’t tense up or try to stop me. Instead, she grabs my shirt and tries to tug it off me.
“Is this okay?” she asks when I break our kiss. “Can I see you?”
I think about all my tattoos, especially the Grim Reaper on my inner forearm that proudly marks me as a member of our Bratva, but I doubt she’ll recognize it, and even if she does, she’s going to learn about it sooner or later.
Sitting up, I reach a hand behind my head and grip the fabric before tugging it off and tossing it aside. Cyn’s mouth drops open as she lifts up onto her elbows, eyeing me with open curiosity and lust.