Chapter 36
The Hunter
“ I am,” she replies, leaning back against me.
Despite the broken man lying face down on the floor, wheezing, it’s Ruby that has my attention. She looks like a goddess as she stands tall, looking down at her husband with contempt in her eyes. My anger toward her for drugging me and attempting to flee still simmers beneath the surface, but I push it down for now.
In a flash, I spin her around so she’s facing me. “Val—”
Her eyes widen as I lift her up, one arm winding around her back as I crush her to me. She quickly winds her arms and legs around me, holding on to me with all her strength. Then she lets me capture her lips in a vicious kiss before pulling away.
She doesn’t create much distance, she’s still tantalizingly close, and with each exhale, her breath fans across my skin. “You lied to me,” she accuses.
If I were a better man, I’d hear her out, and then explain myself. But I’m not a better man, I’m not even a decent man. So I go to reclaim her lips, growling when she evades me. “Pet—”
“I told you not to call me that,” she hisses, interrupting me. “Are you even sorry for all that you’ve done?”
I m ove my hand up her back, wrapping it around the back of her neck. I squeeze until she gasps. “No,” I growl. “I don’t believe in regret, and I sure as hell don’t feel it. If you want pretty words, you’re climbing the wrong body.”
When she opens her mouth again, I swoop in, sliding my hand from her neck to her throat while nipping at her lips until she parts for me. She tastes of red wine and sin, a delicious cocktail. Her hold on me tightens, and she whimpers into my mouth as her tongue snakes around mine.
The kiss is slow and languorous. I’m in no hurry, and it seems she isn’t either.
Now that I’ve had time to contemplate everything without her around to distract me, I know I’m not in a rush with anything regarding her. We have time. I’m obviously not going to kill her, I’m going to keep her around. Whatever that means, I’m not sure. All I know is that she’s mine, and I’ll never want to say goodbye.
Suddenly, she bites down hard on my tongue, drawing blood and forcing me to release her with a grunt. She glares at me, her eyes ablaze with fury and desire. “You were hired to kill me,” she accuses in a shrill voice, pointing at a piece of paper on the floor.
Automatically, I bend down and pick it up. As I straighten, I scan it, recognizing the contract. Hmm, so it seems I couldn’t hear everything from the bedroom, because I didn’t hear her confront Michael about this. But since I’m not against my little pet knowing the truth, I don’t even consider denying what she’s saying.
“How did you find out?” I ask, curious.
She shakes her head. “That’s not important—”
“It’s important to me,” I growl.
“Well, it isn’t to me,” she says, stubbornly lifting her chin and meeting my gaze as if daring me to interrupt her again.
A smirk splays on my lips as I grab her hips and pull her closer. “Ask me anything you want, Pet,” I rasp.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
I expected this question, so the answer comes easily. “I never even considered telling you until I woke up and you were gone.” I arch an eyebrow. “After you drugged me.”
At my words, she looks like the cat that got the canary. “Now you know what it feels like,” she retorts. I wish I knew what she’s thinking as her expression changes right in front of me. All humor is gone in a blink, and she glares at me with fury in her eyes. “You stalked me after Christmas, didn’t you? It’s also because of you that he…” She points down at Michael. “… made me take your class. This is all a sick game to you, isn’t it?”
She’s not wrong; I took the job because of my curiosity, and I’ve played with her and kept her close for the same reason. “Yes,” I admit, holding her gaze. “That’s how it started.”
Nodding, she takes the paper from me. “At least you’re being honest,” she mumbles as she turns away to kneel in front of Michael. “So here I am, with two men who couldn’t care less what happens to me. It’s fitting.”
Her words strike a chord inside me, and guilt makes its presence known. “I said that’s how it started,” I growl, irrationally annoyed she’s only paying attention to some of what I say. “That’s not how it is now.”
She waves me off and shakes her head. “When are you planning on killing me?” she asks, looking up at me.
I reach for her. “I’m not going to kill you,” I snarl. “You’re mine now, Ruby. And you have been since I first laid eyes on you. I’m much too possessive and controlling to even allow death to come between me and what I want.”
She tries to fight me as I pull her to her feet, but it’s useless. I wrap my arm around her and hold her tight against my body. “I’m yours?” she asks, incredulous. “Why? Because you say so? Because he…” She kicks Michael’s feet. “… gave me to you?”
Nodding, I reply, “All of the above. But most importantly, because I say so.”
“Prove it,” she snaps. “Prove I’m yours, Valentine.”
With a low chuckle, I remove my leather jacket and lie down on the floor. “Remove your dress and come sit on my face, Pet.”
“I told you—”
“Never to call you that,” I smirk, finishing her sentence. “Yeah, yeah. Just do as I say. Now.”
She doesn’t look at me when she lowers the straps of her dress and starts pulling the fabric down. When she reaches her hips, she shimmies them. “Prop him up,” she says. “I want him to see what you do to me.”
I’m all too happy to do what she says, and it doesn’t take me long to push Michael up so he’s sitting, resting against the couch. His eyes are open, moving around in their sockets. His breathing is nothing more than shallow wheezing.
“Can you hear us?” I ask, tapping my chin with my finger as I look down at the man who hired me. I crouch down and lean closer, lowering my voice so only he can hear me. “Now I understand why you’re afraid of her. She’s… magnificent. Way too good for the likes of you, and me, if I’m honest.”
Wordlessly, I get back to Ruby, lying down on the floor, moving so I’m lying between her spread legs as she stands above me. “Sit on my face,” I growl, grabbing her thighs and pulling until she sways on her heels.
A shudder runs through her as she turns, facing away from my body. Then she lowers herself until she’s completely resting her cunt on my mouth. I can taste the tang of arousal as my tongue flicks against her swollen lips.
Her body trembles above me, and I grip her thighs to keep her steady as I eagerly lick and suck at her, exploring every inch of her with my tongue. She moans softly, her movements growing more urgent as she grinds down onto my face, seeking more pleasure.
My dick stirs, hardening in my pants, pushing against its denim prison.
“Yes! God! Just like that,” she moans eagerly, rocking her hips faster.
With each flick of my tongue, her body responds with a gasp or a moan. Above me, she writhes and squirms, her thighs tightening around my head as I continue to pleasure her. Her trembling intensifies as I push her closer and closer to the brink.
She rides my face with an increasing sense of desperation, the sounds escaping from her lips becoming more urgent. The wetness and heat between her legs is a clear indication of how much she wants to let go and surrender herself completely to the sensation.
“Valentine… I need… I have to feel… oh God!”
I know what she’s begging for, the primal yearning that has been ingrained into every fiber of her being. Me; I long to free her from the chains of her past, to teach her that there are other ways.
For now, though, she needs pain to orgasm, and I want her to come on my tongue. I want—need—to drown in her wetness. So I reach into my pocket for the arrowhead, and pull it out. Tapping her thigh, I hold it up, wordlessly asking her if she’s okay with what I’m about to do.
I’m surprised when she all but leaps off me. “No,” she says, shaking her head vigorously.
“No?” I echo, leaning up on my elbows. Then I lick her juices from my lips, savoring the taste. “What do you want, Pet?”
Holding her hand out, she says, “Give it to me.”
I do, and she immediately brings it closer so she can inspect it. She turns it this way and that before letting out a soft gasp. “Oh!” Without elaborating, she falls to her knees and reaches for my hand. Knowing what she’s looking for, I push myself all the way up so I’m seated. Then I give her my wrist. “It’s not a tattoo,” she murmurs as she pushes my sleeve up, revealing the mark on my wrist.
I suppress a shudder as her fingers run across the puckered skin. “No, it’s not,” I confirm.
“Who did that to you?” Sadness creeps into her tone.
I reach for her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “I did, Pet. I did it to myself.”
“With this,” she says. It’s not a question, but I still nod as she pushes the arrowhead back into my hand.
The searing smell of burning flesh still lingers in my mind, a stark reminder of the night I branded myself all those years ago. The sharp scent filled my nostrils and left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I can’t recall the pain, though that could be attributed to the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed beforehand. I was numb to everything except for the intense heat radiating from the hot metal against my skin. The memories may have faded, but the smell still haunts me to this day.
“I want you to do that to me.”
Surely I didn’t hear her correctly. “You want me to do what?”
Her finger runs across the serpent on the metal. “You heard me,” she murmurs. “I want you to brand me while I fuck you. It’s… perfect.” She licks her blood-red lips.
I move my hand to her chin, cupping it. My heart skips a beat as she turns her face, kissing the palm before resting against it. “No. You don’t know what you’re asking for. The pain…” Trailing off, I shake my head. “My answer is no. I won’t ruin you like that.”
She lets out a mirthless mock of a laugh and spins around, giving me her back. “You won’t be the one to ruin me,” she retorts, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
White-hot rage burns through my veins at the sight of all the scars webbing along her back. When I inspected her in my loft, I only paid the most attention to her new marks, barely registering the old ones.
But… Christ. Some look like… he whipped her? The bastard actually whipped her so hard her skin split all along her back. There are others as well, some look like cigarette burns. The sight makes me sick to my stomach, but I’m also realizing just how strong she is.
“How perfect you are,” I rasp, leaning closer so I can kiss the exposed skin. “You’re not ruined.”
Ruby turns again, crawling into my lap and wrapping her long legs around my waist. With trembling fingers, she reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I raise my arms so she can pull it off me. “I’m not perfect,” she whispers, her green eyes meeting my dark ones. “But with your mark, I’ll be one step closer. Do this for me, Valentine. Please. You… you owe me.”
Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Regardless, that’s not the reason I say, “Okay, I’ll do it.” No, it’s because I’m dying to see my mark on her creamy skin.
With a small, satisfied sigh, she presses her lips to mine, licking at the seam of my lips until I open my mouth for her. The kiss feels like gratitude mixed with finality, and as I think that, I realize there’s been an undercurrent of finality in every word she’s said. It’s not defeat or regret as I first thought. No, it’s like she knows something I don’t, and I hate that .
“What are you keeping from me?” I ask, my tone demanding. I kiss my way down her neck, waiting for an answer.
She takes her time replying, waiting until I reach her collarbone. Leaning back slightly, she reaches behind her, gripping my thighs for support. “Who says I’m keeping anything from you?” she asks, raising her chin.
The new position makes it hard to ignore her glorious breasts. Impossible, in fact. Lowering, I close my mouth around one, sucking until she moans for me. “I say so,” I groan.
Laughing, she places her hand on the back of my head, holding me tightly against her. “I’m not keeping anything from you, Valentine. You… oh!” Throwing her head back, she moans as I graze her hardened nipple with my teeth. “… just don’t know the right questions to get the answers you want,” she replies, cryptically.
Something is different with Ruby tonight, and I love the way she’s letting go. However, I’m not sure I trust it. Not when I know how angry—maybe even betrayed—she must feel to find out I was hired to kill her. The fact that she’s barely addressed it sends alarm bells ringing in my head.
Letting go of her breast, I grab her throat, pulling her closer while adding pressure. “What do you want from me tonight?” I rasp.
Her eyes widen slightly. “I want you to fuck me. In front of Michael and to mark me,” she croaks. I can feel her throat working as she swallows thickly.
“And that’s it?” I ask, not sure I believe her.
“For now,” she replies.
I hold her in place for a minute or two, slowly loosening my grip as I search her eyes for answers. But I find none, only confirmation that there’s something she isn’t telling me. “Alright,” I agree. “What do you want first?”
Rather than answering me, Ruby gets to her feet, pulling me with her. When we’re both standing, she makes quick work of undoing my jeans, pushing them down, and taking my boxer briefs with them. Once they pool around my legs, I kick everything off, including my socks and shoes .
Completely naked, I can’t resist pulling her against me, feeling her curves and soft skin against my body. “You’re so beautiful,” I rasp, running my hand down her back.
Her dark green eyes grow glassy as unshed tears gather, but she doesn’t allow them to fall. “Thank you,” she stammers. Then she clears her throat and blinks rapidly, the orbs hardening with every movement of her lids. “What do you need for the mark? A lighter? Anything else?”
Holding up the arrowhead, I point at it. “I also need a pen or something I can use to hold it. Maybe some tongs,” I suggest.
With a sharp nod, she spins on her heel, disappearing into the kitchen where I hear her rummage around, slamming cupboard doors. She returns with a metal bucket, showing me the ice filling the bottom. “Will this work?” she asks, pointing at the pair of tongs hanging on the edge.
“Yes,” I rasp, licking my lips. I take the bucket from her and put it down on the floor. “And a first aid kit. Anything with—”
“I’m not covering it up,” she hisses, sounding outraged by the mere prospect.
“First off, you need to cover it up. The skin will be ruined and there’ll be a high risk of infection.” I make sure she sees the seriousness etched into my features so she knows I’m not joking. “But I also need some antiseptic so I can sterilize the area before branding you, Pet. I’m not taking any risks with you.” I don’t know which of us is more surprised by the possessiveness and care coating my words. Not that it matters, it’s not up for debate.
A small satisfactory smile graces her lips as she leaves me again. This time she’s gone for longer, but she returns with a small medical kit. I’m honestly shocked she found one. Well, not really, but kind of. With the way Michael has been treating her, care has obviously never been high on the agenda.
“I saw Marco,” she says, handing me the kit.
I let out a growl. “The bastard better still be out for the count,” I observe, raking my gaze across her naked body for emphasis.
She rolls her eyes. “He was. How long will he be out for?”
Too busy roaming through the small kit, I don’t answer her right away. I quickly find the antiseptic I was looking for, and pour some onto a small cotton ball. Then I beckon her closer with the crook of my finger.
“Where do you want the mark?”
She considers it, tapping her index finger against her cheek. “Hmm… how about here?” She slides a single finger between her breasts, stopping at her under boob.
“There?” I arch an eyebrow. Without giving her the chance to answer, I reach out and quickly pinch the skin. My intention was to show her she picked a bad place, but when she doesn’t even flinch, I’m the one proven wrong.
Another growl escapes me, and I slowly turn my head to look at Michael. What the hell has he done to her that she can barely feel pain? Or maybe she can feel it, but it’s not a hindrance or deterrent to her. Not even outside of sex.
I stab my finger in his direction, not looking away as I speak to my pet. “He dies tonight.”