Chapter Twenty-Three
REV
When we arrive at my Sinro apartment, Dante’s a shell of a person.
He’s not normally one for talking, but usually that’s because he’s stewing in anger. Right now, he’s just empty, even after a phone call with his brother, confirming that he’s at work.
It makes me want to drive back to that venue and deconstruct SIXX in brutally creative ways. If I didn’t think he’d break down without me here, I’d be in my truck already, guns loaded in the utility box in the bed.
A solo hunt is calling my name. Fuck around with my man and find out.
But that’s not what Dante needs tonight.
Leaving him perched on the edge of my bed, I walk into the bathroom and start up the tub. It’s a grand clawfoot piece with golden feet—dramatic like me when I’m in public. It fits with the deep burgundy walls and moody, warm lighting of the space.
Dante scrunches up his brows in confusion as he wanders in, hood still drawn.
“Few things bring me true pleasure in life. Bubble baths are one of them,” I say.
“Bubble baths,” he replies in a tired voice.
I stride over and tap a bubble on the tip of his nose. “Yes, murder kitten. Judge me all you want.”
He shakes his head. “You keep switching between nicknames.”
“Mmm, because you’re like Jekyll and Hyde. Murdery one moment. Marshmallowy the next. Plus, I like seeing which name makes you blush the most. Murder kitten’s currently winning. Now, get undressed.”
His eyes go wide as his cheeks turn pink.
“Do you need help?” I raise a brow.
I expect him to kick me out. Really, I’m shooting for his anger to fill the void inside of him.
When he whispers a “please,” something jabs at my chest. “Oh, baby boy. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
Instinctively, he leans away from me, too prideful to take an actual step back but too drained to truly fight me.
Smoothing my palms up under his shirt, I slip his hoodie off, loving the way locks of hair escape his bun. I hook a finger in the hair band. “Can I?”
His brown eyes blink back at me a few times before he nods. Curls tumble down, framing his face. “So fucking pretty, Dante.”
He shivers at the praise. My hands slide down his chest and navel, landing on the button of his jeans. I pop it free, never breaking our eye contact. I’m addicted to his reactions. To his sounds. His smell. His taste.
Dropping to my knees, I slide his pants and pink flowery boxers down his legs. Normally, I’d make a big deal about his underwear. I’m a bit rabid to know what other things he hides in his closet.
I kiss around his hardening cock on my way back up to my feet.
“Asshole,” he mutters.
There’s some of that sass.
Smirking, I lean in to kiss against his neck. This need for him is almost unbearable. Almost on the edge of too much. I’d kill an endless number of criminals for this man in my arms. I’d kill just to see him smile or hear him laugh.
“Did I…do you not want to…”
“What? Sex you up?” Grinning, I reconsider my decision to withhold from claiming him. “I assure you, I want to, Dante, but not when your mind is still on SIXX. I want all of your attention when I’m pleasuring you.”
His throat bobs before he wanders over to the tub apprehensively. It takes every bit of my willpower to remove myself from the bathroom as he releases a little groan when he sinks into the soapy water.
This is not about me and my needs, no matter how self-centered I am.
Heading to the kitchen, I brew him a cup of decaf coffee and myself a cup of Earl Grey tea. Then I prepare some fruit and cheese on a tray for him, stopping mid-cut to answer a call from Cain Vincent.
“Tell me you have them tied up in the back of an SUV?” I ask, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear.
“SIXX never came out of the venue after the fights. When our team searched the building, Ezra discovered doors to an old tunnel system beneath the city. Alaric’s researching now.
Public records don’t show any underground paths leading to the venue.
I’m concerned we don’t have accurate historical maps of what lies below us. ”
I pop a runaway grape into my mouth. “So SIXX are crawling around beneath us like a bunch of demented ninja turtles.”
“You have a way with words.”
“I aim to please.”
“How’s Dante?”
I lean a hip against the counter and sigh. “Struggling. Part of me thinks I should have let him fire that shot.”
“And then chaos would have broken out,” Cain states.
“Is it bad that I considered sacrificing people in that crowd to give him what he wants?”
“Probably.”
“But you understand.”
Cain takes a moment to respond. “Yeah, I do.”
“Any sighting of Dante’s brother?” I question.
“Forest spotted him leaving the venue alone. He looked rough.”
“Shit.” I tug a hand through my hair.
“You know there’s a chance he’s tangled up in this.”
I have no qualms about getting Laz out of whatever sticky situation he found himself in. It’s the lying to his brother I don’t care for. But I’m not about to wade into family matters where I have very little positive experience.
“Let me know if you two need anything tonight. We’ll regroup in the morning,” Cain says.
“How anyone believes you’re intimidating—”
The line clicks, and I chuckle.
Carrying the food tray and steaming cups to the end table next to my lounge chair, I walk to the bathroom and rest my weight against the doorframe. Dante’s fully sunk into the bubbles. His eyes are shut, but the muscles in his jaw and neck are still visibly strained.
“Made you some coffee and a snack when you’re ready,” I tell him.
He frowns, brows knitting together. He’d better get ready for me to be insufferable because I plan on babying the fuck out of him.
I wait for him to shoo me out, but he never does. He keeps his eyes on me after he pulls the plug on the drain. My gaze moves to the waterline inching down his bare chest, leaving bubbles clinging to his skin.
Striding over, I pull the showerhead attachment free and turn on warm water. “May I?”
He hugs his knees to his chest. This position does nothing to hide the hard line of his cock nestled between his thighs. He has lean muscle all over, but his thighs are gloriously thick from dancing. I aspire to have them crushing around my head one day.
“Just do it,” he mutters.
I rinse him off, miraculously without touching him. Dante tests my patience like no other. I fear for the day my control snaps and I eat him alive.
He’s not ready for that.
He’s still hurting.
Shutting off the water, I retrieve a fluffy towel and drape it around his shoulders. Silently, he drags on his boxers and walks out of the bathroom.
My fingers tap against my thigh as I war against the desire to return to that venue and rip the organs from every single SIXX member. This hold they have on Dante will be severed if it’s the last thing I do.
Needing a minute to calm myself, I strip down and hop in the shower. I wash myself, focusing on the tiniest actions and not my violent thoughts.
I could go rogue. Pack up my guns and knives and grenades and sweep through those tunnels.
No one on my team would be at risk then.
No more gathering intel. No more plotting.
Just raw, savage killing. I haven’t gotten to unleash like that in years.
It’s not like I have any other purpose in life. I wasn’t born to give back to humanity.
I was born to take.
When I step out of the shower, all these twisted thoughts come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Dante leaning against the sink. His hands are gripping the counter hard enough to bleach his knuckles, but his brown eyes are warm as they look me over.
My cock twitches, slowly filling. I don’t try to cover up. Let him see what he does to me.
“Did you eat?” I ask.
His Adam’s apple bobs before he nods, eyes never stopping their perusal of my body.
I’m fully hard now, fighting the urge to stride forward, tear his pretty briefs off, and sink my cock deep inside his body.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“What’s wrong, baby boy? You want to help dry me off?”
His eyes flick up to mine, and I wait for him to shut me down. Usually, I love this game he plays of pretending to hate me, but tonight I’m clearly stuck on terrible thoughts like murder and possession.
His chest deflates on an exhale before he saunters over to me. When he rests his palm on my sternum, I let him push me back against the tiled shower wall. The impact knocks some air out of me, and I grin so wide it makes my cheeks hurt. “That’s it. Be rough with me.”.
The flick of a knife has my brows lifting. I have a brief thought that I’ve miscalculated and allowed an enemy into our home. But then his brown eyes get all melty. “You like the pain, don’t you?”
“Fuck. I love it.”
He drops his gaze to the knife as he raises it to my pec. He drags the flat side over my nipple, and I hiss. Next, he traces through the grooves of my abs while I pant and growl and hunger.
Take. Take. Take.
I stare back at him, stunned that such a beautiful human would be interested in someone as twisted as me.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me. You an angel sent here to make me atone for my sins?”
Dante shakes his head, his frown returning. “Angels don’t exist.”
“What about demons?” I brush a curl behind his ear.
“Only humans, and those are much worse.”
His blade bites into my skin just below my collarbone as his other hand wraps around my cock. My head knocks back against the wall, a deep groan escaping me.
Nothing else can compare to the way Dante makes me feel—emotions so raw and electric and soul-deep, I’m practically drowning in them.
He gives me a slow pump as his tongue flicks over the bloody cut he opened on my pale skin.
“Look at you being bad for me.”
“Shut up,” he mutters, but he drops to his knees.
I run a hand over his curls, entranced by the scene of crimson oozing down my chest and Dante’s big brown eyes looking up at me while he licks a stripe along the rigid length of my cock.
He dives in. I love that about him. When he’s in, he’s all in. Entirely focused on the task at hand.
And fuck, is he focused on making a mess of me inside and out.
I caress his scalp as he sucks me. It’s not enough. I need to be buried inside of him at all times. I need to etch my very essence into his bones. I need him to know who the fuck he belongs to, even in the afterlife.
“Deeper, kitten. You can take it,” I rumble.
He pops off, glaring up at me with those flushed cheeks and bright pink lips as he presses his blade to the meaty flesh of my thigh.
“Give it to me.”
He tugs the sharp end through my skin, and I growl at the hot sting of pain. My balls draw up, and pressure builds low in my core.
I guide my cock back into his mouth, pressing in until I hit the back of his throat. When he writhes a bit, I ease up enough to let him know he’s in control.
This only spurs him on. He sucks me harder, hands digging into my hips.
“Get me there. Fuck.” I gasp.
He groans, and I explode, growling at the way his throat tightens around me while he swallows my cum.
The moment he falls back onto his butt, I gather him up and haul him to my bed. Hooking fingers into his underwear, I tug them below his smooth balls. Naked is the best look for him.
Pushing his shirt up over his stomach, I smirk at the way his muscles quiver and his cock jerks.
And when his legs fall open for me? There can be no stronger high in this world.
Nosing around his cock, I breathe in the scent of my soap on his skin as my fingers grip his trim waist. He’s shaved clean everywhere, so soft and pretty and pliant when he finally drops those fortified walls.
“Such a gorgeous cock.” I kiss the base of it, teasing a little with my tongue.
When I bite along the meat of his thighs, leaving red marks, he squirms and whines my name.
“Mmm, this what you need?” Moving to his cock once more, I take him all the way to the back of my throat.
He chants the words “oh my god” as his head falls back and his eyes slam shut.
Humming around him in approval, I slide my tongue along his length and toy with his glands. Then I give his balls some attention, tonguing and sucking at them too.
“Not enough.” I rip his boxers clean off.
Shoving his legs up, I nearly bend him in half, taking a moment to appreciate the view of him spread open. “Beg me nicely, and I might fuck this sexy little hole tonight.”
“Never,” he whispers, but he arches off the bed when I bring my mouth to his hole, licking at every sensitive inch of him.
I want him dreaming of me. Want him jerking off to me. Want him calling me in the middle of the night, desperate for his holes to be filled by me.
Only me.
His body tightens up, and I know he’s close. As much as I want to bring him to orgasm, I don’t want this to be over with, so I slow my pace.
“Don’t fucking stop,” he utters. “Rev.”
My name on his tongue unleashes something primal inside me. I slip my hands under him to squeeze his ass as he rocks into me with abandon.
“So close. Stop, and I’ll kill you.”
I hold him deep in my throat, earning bitten-off curses that make me want to laugh. His fingernails pierce the skin on my shoulders as he clings to me and floods my mouth.
Too soon, he’s shoving me away at the sensitivity. Gasping for air, he drops his limbs onto the bed.
Crawling over him, I kiss his neck and jaw. He lets me ease him onto his stomach, and then I drape my body over him like a weighted blanket.
I meant it when I told him he’s never getting away from me. The only way this relationship ends is with a bullet in my skull.
“Sleep, baby boy. I won’t let anything touch you.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he asks, “Laz too?”
I kiss his forehead. “Laz too.”