Chapter 7
ISEULT
I could easily fight him off of me. It wouldn’t be too hard. But something inside me doesn’t want to. Whoever this man is, he intrigues me just as much as I seem to intrigue him.
He shoves my dress up to my upper thigh with the muzzle of his gun, and I welcome it, the menacing way he’s holding me captive beneath him, the shadows of darkness crossing his eyes, almost as black as death itself.
A pulsing need grows between my thighs, the emptiness inside letting itself be known the more I feel him on top of me.
Unintentionally, a moan slips from my lips, and he cinches his fingers tighter around my throat. I bet he can sense how much I like it when he’s got his hands wrapped around my neck.
With a menacing expression, I grab the top of his hand and push his palm even deeper, wanting him to take all of my breaths.
Maybe it would hurt less. Maybe death is the only way to escape my past.
“I’ve never wanted to make a woman come this badly in my life,” he vows, his voice straining, his rigid length driving into me.
Deeply. Forcefully.
My body grows achy, every molecule turned to a mess of lustful emotions. I’ve never been this turned on. Never wanted to sleep with a man with such fervor before.
Am I insane? Should I let him touch me? Have me?
But what if he’s not some random rich guy with a dark side? What if he’s part of the same world I’m in? Maybe he works for one of our enemies? There are so many factions in the underworld. He could be anyone.
Will we cross the same paths again? Can I sleep with him and then disappear? Because that’s all this would be: a one-time thing. I don’t do attachments.
After what happened, I don’t get involved with men. Not on an intimate level. I fuck them once and hope for an orgasm that never comes.
He rocks his hips so expertly, I wonder if this guy is capable of giving me that one thing I’ve never experienced with a man. Sure, I’ve had plenty by myself. But my hands alone can’t give me what I truly want: to be dominated.
Which, of course, I’d never actually admit.
His unrelenting gaze stays glued to mine while he thrusts, circling into me, pushing deeper against my clit.
My face flushes, my entire body warm and buzzing with desire. I can’t control the rattling of my breathing, the beating of my erratic pulse.
What is this awful man doing to me?
The pads of his rough fingers climb up my inner thigh, waking my flesh with their intoxicating touch.
Slowly, he continues his journey higher, his eyes unnerving me as he stares into me like he wants to know what I like. What makes me feel…something. Anything.
And never until now have I felt it. This feeling of being free and alive, forgetting everything else but this intensity coursing through my limbs.
His digits ride up higher, feathering over the spot where my thigh meets my hip. I gasp when his thumb rubs my clit over my panties, and I find myself heaving, the knife slipping from my trembling hand. The one I forgot I was even holding. How have I not stabbed him with it by now?
“Say you want it,” he gruffly demands. “Tell me you want my fingers inside this pretty little pussy.”
I nod wordlessly, chest flailing, brows furrowing with every ragged breath.
“No, Red.” He curls his fingers deeper into my throat. “Say please.” He lowers his lips to mine, brushing them gently with an arrogant smirk.
If he thinks I’ll ever beg him for anything, he doesn’t know me.
His thumb pushes into me, the cotton of my panties along with his touch causing too much friction. My eyes roll back, temptation almost causing me to say those words he desperately wants to hear.
The worst thing is, the commanding way in which he speaks to me is only making me want him that much more. Desire unfurls in my gut, flaming out through my limbs.
When I can’t manage to speak, the need scorching me into oblivion, he roughly pulls my panties to the side, his eyes still pinned to mine as he rubs his thumb around my pulsating clit.
Cursing out, I dig my long nails into the hardened muscles of his back.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
My toes curl as he holds me down by my throat like he owns me while finger-fucking me like he knows my body more than I do.
And right now, I swear he does.
The sounds I’m making would have me ashamed if I actually cared. But I don’t. My body’s climbing, soaring to the horizon. Two fingers slip inside me, his thumb playing me until my body trembles.
“Are you a screamer, Red?”
“No.” I moan hungrily for release.
“Well, you’re about to become one.”
He pushes a third finger into my core, and when he curls them and drives them into my G-spot, I slam my eyes shut, wanting to fight this insanely addicting feeling.
But I can’t give him what he wants. I can’t scream. I won’t.
“Open those eyes. I earned them,” he grates.
And when I dare a look at him, his jaw tenses and the vein at his neck pops as though it wants to rip right out of his skin.
“That’s it. Look at me. I want you to know who’s about to make you scream.”
A ripple of heat washes over me, the noises slipping from my mouth completely unhinged. He plays my body like it’s his, like he owns the keys and notes.
Yet my mind is fighting it, even when my body wants everything he’s doing. I want to forget it all and focus solely on how he’s making me feel. Bathed in the hunger pulling us together, in this mere illusion created by our mutual animalistic need.
He pounds his fingers into me like he’s lost all control, and every time he brings me close to the edge, he slows, driving me to madness.
I groan in frustration, needing to feel myself fall. But the bastard won’t allow it.
“What do you need, Red? Come on, now. Use your words.”
I grind my teeth. My body can’t take a moment more of this sweet torture.
He strokes my clit between two fingers, and I’m so close…
“Please, please, let me come,” I beg, hating myself, but not giving a fuck either.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls, rubbing me in slow, tantalizing circles.
And the way he won’t stop staring into my eyes has my heart racing and my pulse thrashing. Eye contact has never been my thing. It’s too much. It’s everything I’ve avoided. But he won’t let me look away. It’s like he’s trying to untie the binds that keep me from falling.
The throbbing in my core grows until it becomes too much, until I need release so badly I’d beg over and over again.
He slows his tempo a fraction, an ominous warning in his eyes, and I’m about ready to tear his head off if he doesn’t let me finish.
“Scream,” he demands. “Show me what I do to you.”
It’s then his fingers piston inside me, until I do what I swore I wouldn’t do. I scream. I scream so loud, the walls could shatter.
“Oh, God, yes! Don’t stop!”
My hips buck, my hand clutching a fistful of his jet-black hair while I clasp my teeth as he wrings out every drop of pleasure my body is willing to give.
A roguish smirk lines the ends of his mouth, like he knew this was what he’d do to me.
My heart races as he says, “I can tell by your face, you’ve never come this hard before.”
I want to deny it. But it never comes. So I say nothing instead.
“It’s okay, Red. If you ask nicely again…” he whispers, lowering his mouth to mine, his soft, firm lips driving me wild. “I’ll let you come like that as many times as you want.”
Before I can admonish him for thinking he could let me do anything, he kisses me slow, his fingers still inside me, dipping in and out with an unhurried pace.
And he was right. I’ve never come this hard before. But I’ve never been kissed this way before either. Hard. Passionately. So earth-shattering that I never in my life could’ve imagined that this is what a kiss should feel like.
My God, have I been missing this all my life?
His tongue slips into my mouth, warm and wet, lips sucking and nipping and turning my world upside down in one single moment. This warmth coasting down my limbs, this out-of-body feeling as though I’m floating…it’s something I’ve never even believed was possible.
And when my body climbs again, I don’t even fight it. Because I know with him, there’s no point in fighting anything at all.
GIO
After six mind-blowing orgasms, I let her rest, her breaths finally stabilizing while my body’s still pressed up against her, refusing to let go.
Her flushed cheeks match the bright hue of her lips, and I very much wish I had kissed her the way I wanted to, tangled up in the bed, her body bare, my hands everywhere. But I could tell that what we’ve done so far alone was too much for her, and I wasn’t about to go and push my luck.
I’ll get her to open up once we get to know each other better, and we will be doing lots of that.
“Can you get off of me?” she huffs, her forehead crumpling as she attempts to push me off with her palms. She’s quite unsuccessful, though.
I chuckle, and her eyes do that thing they do when she’s planning my death.
My lips drop closer, and I kiss the tip of her nose, my heart beating faster the more she stares into my eyes. And I swear, hers grow tender.
The ice princess has a soft side.
I run a thumb across her mouth, and she doesn’t even try to push me off.
My gaze takes in the contours of her face, the definition of beauty, sculpted to perfection, as though a sculptor spent years on her and her alone.
“What’s your story, Red?” My voice grows low, like it’s afraid she’ll run if it gets any louder.
“Not everyone has a story.”
“That’s not true.” I draw my thumb down her cheek, and her eyelids grow heavy. “Everyone has a story, and I’ll find yours out soon enough.”
A lazy smile grows over her mouth, and I swear it’s a real one. “Good luck with that.”
My other palm settles on her outer thigh, and she relaxes her body, like she enjoys my touch.
“Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Nice try.” She’s pushing me off again with two hands against my shoulders. “Get off. I have to go.”
Instead, I delve myself even deeper, plastering a huge cocky grin on my face, while she glares.
“Where?” I ask. “More men to torture?”
“About to torture you if you don’t do what I say.”
Just as she’s about to answer, someone pounds at the door. “Sir, we need to get inside. Are you decent?”
“Fuck.” I jump off, and she’s frantically dashing for her shoes and slipping them on.
“I’m going through the adjacent door. That room is empty,” she informs me, rushing toward it, hand on the knob. But suddenly she pauses, looking at me over her shoulder. “Come with me.”
That damn near warms my heart.
“Why, Red? You worried about me?”
“No.” She grimaces. “That would be horrifying.”
I laugh faintly, unable to peel my eyes from hers.
Funny.
Beautiful.
Insanely skilled with a knife.
Suddenly, marriage doesn’t sound quite so bad.
I probably won’t live past forty with a woman like that, but at least we’d have a few short years of marital bliss. Wouldn’t be boring, that’s for sure.
“I’m just saying…” she goes on. “Why die if you can get away?”
“Don’t worry, bambina. I’ll be all right. Plus…” I stare back at Carl. “…someone left me a mess to clean.” A smirk deepens over my face. “But as a thank-you, maybe give me your number. Hopefully next time, I can make you come without a dead body in the room.”
Her face scrunches like she’s considering it, and when another knock comes through, she says, “Ugh. Yeah, sure. Give me your phone.”
Well, that was easier than I thought.
I remove my cell from my pocket and unlock it before handing it to her. She hurriedly types with both thumbs, then hands me back the phone.
Her fingers climb into her hair, and at first, I have no idea what she’s doing…until she removes a pin and sticks it into the hole of the doorknob.
Not even five seconds later, the door opens.
If I wasn’t already insanely attracted to her, this would have done it.
Over her shoulder, those bright ocean eyes take me in, a perfect blend of emerald and turquoise, a color as rare as the woman.
Her lingering gaze stays perched to mine for long seconds. My pulse drums. Why does it look like she’s saying goodbye without actually saying it?
“I’ll see you around.” The corner of her mouth inclines. “Thanks for all those orgasms.”
“Anytime, Red. But next time, I’ll be using my mouth. Really wanna taste you and watch you fall apart on my tongue.”
Her cheeks flush.
“Keep yourself alive until then,” I tell her.
“Just come with me,” she pleads, her brows knitting.
I grin, loving that she asked me twice. “I can handle this. You go.”
“How will you get out of here?”
The entry door clicks.
“Go. Now,” I whisper sharply.
That has her nodding, and with another long look, she’s out of sight.
And I’m left wondering if I’ll ever actually see her again.