Chapter 16
GEORGIY
How Bane manages to make such a mess in such a short time is quite confounding. And we haven’t even gotten to the hard parts yet. But still, he’s covered in blood. It’s on his cheeks, his arms, and even some on his knees. It’s making my skin itch.
I want to wash it off, watch the water turn pink as he slowly reappears.
Every inch of skin. Every scar.
“Enough,” I tell him, watching as he waves the woman’s hand in her face.
It’s detached from her body, her bone sticking out from her wrist, blood pooling by our feet.
He didn’t even use care when sawing it off.
Just did it without any thought. But then again, it did make my dick hard when I watched him work.
It seems I’m into him despite the mess.
Or maybe I’m into him because of the mess.
“You sure you don’t have the name of the guy?” he asks Sue again, her sobbing form on the table shaking so badly it’s making the entire thing move. He taps her detached hand against her head, leaving a bloody handprint right against her forehead.
“I don’t have a name. Never a name. Just the locations where I’d meet him.”
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not!” she cries, spittle flying.
“I think she’s telling the truth. If she knew, I think she would have told us,” I say, and Bane stares at me.
“I can’t believe that. Because if that’s true, then we have nothing, really.”
“We have something. She mentioned San Francisco, remember? Right before you took out her knee. We know that’s where she dropped Samvel and Emma off. And that Siren bitch told you about an underground casino in San Francisco. It must be connected.”
He blinks at me and nods, and I touch his bloody chin with my gloved hand. He shivers slightly, rubbing at his stomach.
“We’ll start there. It’s not nothing, umnyashka. It’s a lead. It’s how we find the one behind it all.”
He leans into my touch, his cheek rubbing against my gloved palm.
“I guess you’re probably right.”
“No guessing. Only promises.”
He sighs, those devious little eyes meeting mine. “Okay, but can we still chop her up? I really think she deserves it.”
“Of course, but I’d like to be the one to take out her heart.”
He presses a kiss to my wrist and then leans away.
“Of course. A deal’s a deal.”
Sue gives a pathetic little whimper as she realizes this is the end, and it’s going to hurt. He laughs as he goes for her eyes.
And I watch him take them out, one by one.
A professional. A true psychopath.
We leave the parts of Sue on the table and the kitchen floor as we make our way to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She no longer has her limbs, her eyes, or her tongue. Her heart sits beside her face, her chest ripped open, the ribs sticking out and broken.
She didn’t tell us anything more, but she did confess her sins. One by one. She deserved everything we gave her. The world is a better place without her in it. No one will miss her.
I flick on the faucet in the shower and watch as Bane shimmies out of his bloody clothes, tossing them all across the floor as he goes.
It makes my eye twitch, the mess, but I say nothing. I just watch as he slips under the warm spray and begins to soap up. The white lather is pink now, the blood swirling down the drain.
I’ll join him when he’s cleaner. The thought of a stranger’s blood on me makes me squirm. It’s why I always wear the gowns, the masks.
Although the blood seems to fit Bane just fine.
He looks good in it. I will admit that.
“You missed some,” I say as I strip down slowly, making Bane pause and stare at the sight.
I like that he enjoys what he sees. That the long scars on my back don’t bother him. That he doesn’t see me as broken. But stronger. A fighter.
“Where is it?” he asks, scrubbing at his chest.
I point to his forehead, and he grins, his hand moving up to wipe it away.
“Better?”
“Much.”
He’s almost entirely clean, shining, those scars visible now. Each and every one of them.
“You can join me now.”
“Soon,” I say, waiting for the water to run clear. It’s only then that I step in beside him, my fingers skimming his slim waist.
He shivers at my touch, leaning into me slightly before pulling away. There’s a question in his eyes, so I give him an answer.
“You can touch,” I tell him, and he shifts closer, his hand landing softly on the spot right against my heart.
He must feel the thud of it. How desperate it is. How hard it’s getting for me to control it.
“You looked hot pulling her chest open like that. Did you do that a lot when you were a surgeon?”
“Of course.”
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t working with you then. I’d have cum all over the sterile floor.”
“I would have had to punish you for doing that.”
“Oh yes,” he says, his fingers curling slightly, making my skin tingle. “I would’ve enjoyed that.”
“I know you would have. You’re a rare find, Bane.”
He peers up at me, his eyes shifting to my lips.
“Am I?”
My tongue peeks out, wetting my mouth.
“You are.”
He trembles slightly, my hand moving to the back of his neck, holding him still. I shouldn’t. I absolutely should not, and yet I do.
I lean down, just a few inches, our lips hovering centimeters apart. I can feel his warm breath puffing against me, and my cock thickens as I imagine his tongue running along the seams of my mouth, of mine doing the same to him.
To taste him for the first time. The way I would devour him.
“Do you know how much I crave you?” I murmur, and Bane shivers.
“No, tell me.”
“How about I show you?” I reply as I pull his arms over his head against the shower wall and let my mouth settle on his.
He stiffens as if he didn’t think I’d actually do this, as if I’d make him wait forever, but when the realization hits him, he moans.
His arms shake, his body pressed flush against mine.
I can feel every inch of him, the hair on his legs, the pulse in his wrist, the hard length of his cock…
and his tongue as mine pushes into his mouth.
The feel of it. The spit, the teeth, that thick muscle all make something inside me crack. All these years of self-inflicted solitude, and it’s this man who makes me break.
My hands tighten on him, rough and unyielding as I yank him up, slamming him against the tile wall behind us, his legs wrapping around my waist as I consume him. He groans, feral little whimpers as I eat him, licking and sucking. Biting.
Blood, I taste it, my teeth having pierced his lip. But I don’t stop, I just swallow it, grinding up against him as I continue to kiss those delectable, sassy lips. The ones that pout and cry, the ones that laugh and smile.
I want them on me all the time.
Blyat. I knew this would happen. I knew the obsession would deepen if I let him touch, if I let him play. And here I am, broken, unhinged, consuming him.
He moans louder as my fingernails dig into his ass cheeks, right where my name sits.
Mine.
I’m going to fuck that ass. I’m going to fuck it raw until he can’t stand. Until he can’t even sit without whining.
“The things I’m going to do to you,” I say as I rip my mouth from his.
He pants, his pupils blown out, his hair hanging over his forehead.
“You can do it all. Take it. I’ve been waiting so long,” he gasps.
I slam my mouth back on his once more, arching into him, feeling the slide of our wet cocks as we work ourselves closer and closer to the edge. I knew this was what it would be like when I ended up inside him. First with his mouth on my cock and now with his lips on mine.
It’s too much.
He’s too much.
I knew that then, and I know it now. He barreled into my life and never left. And here I am, letting him crash through all my boundaries.
I’m kissing him when I haven’t kissed another man in years.
I pull away from him and see his swollen lips part in a moan.
“Don’t stop,” he begs, and I flex my grip on his wrists as my hips continue to grind us toward release.
“I want to own every inch of you,” I say, and his eyes roll into the back of his head as I nip my way across his cheek to his ear, clamping down on his lobe and making him groan.
“I want to carve myself into you. I want to make you bleed.”
“You can. Oh fuck. Do it.”
But I don’t, I just spin him around and bend him over, his ass jutting out, letting the water act as lube as I thrust my dick through his clenched cheeks. My name is printed right there on his ass and it turns me on even more. The way he wears it with pride.
I squeeze his cheeks together more forcefully, and Bane arches his back slightly, trying to force me into his hole, but not yet. Blyat, not yet.
I grab onto his hair and pull him backward, almost to the point of pain, his spine bowed sharply as my release barrels through me.
My cum coats his lower back as I thrust my way through it, and then without asking, I push a wet finger into his hole, pressing against the little nub and making Bane lurch forward, his mouth open in a scream as he shoots his release across the wall.
I watch it slide down the tiles and swirl down the drain, not letting up on the pressure on his prostate. His body writhes against me and only goes limp when I slowly pull myself from him.
His legs are shaking, and I pull him up against my chest, holding him up. His head lolls back onto my shoulder, his eyelids fluttering shut.
“Can’t wait for you to own my ass.”
“I already do. My name’s there.”
He lets out a soft giggle and then turns his head slightly, brushing his nose against my neck.
“I liked kissing you.”
“Mm.”
“You can kiss me anytime,” he says.
“I’ll remember that.”
He sighs and then pulls away from me, bringing the bar of soap up to my hands and washing them for me. He knows how much uncleanliness bothers me, and he’s washing it all away.
My heart beats in triplets as I watch him do this.
That’s not healthy. None of this is.
But then again, I’ve never really been mentally stable. And he definitely isn’t.
Sanity is overrated to begin with.