Hunter
HUNTER
I watched her face light up like I'd set the goddamn sun in front of her. The beach, a stretch of sand and water that got a grin outta Rosalind I hadn't seen since I snatched her from that pansy-ass life she led before me. She talked about lakes with Marco , so I brought her to the ocean—bigger, deeper, just like the shit I planned for us.
" Surprise ," I grunted, the word tasting like a foreign language on my tongue. Shock flickered in her dark eyes, all wide and innocent, but underneath, something else was sparking. Maybe respect? Didn't matter; I was aiming for more than that.
Her laughter echoed against the waves as we hit the water. She splashed like she didn't have a care, like the world outside our bubble didn't exist. For a minute, I played along, tossing water back at her, letting it wash away my hesitation.
Then I caught her waist and yanked her close until her legs clung to my hips. Her skin against mine was seeking, all soft and warm. Her eyes searched mine—those deep pools trying to see past the monster to whatever shred of man was left in me.
" Are you mad about Marco ?" she asked, her voice steady even as her body trembled against me.
" Mad ? Shit , doll, I'm a lot of things." My grip tightened. " But I ain't simple enough to be just one thing."
She waited for more, for some sign that I could be the prince she never had. But fuck, all I had was anger wrapped around a heart too tough to break.
" Trying , Rosalind . That's all I got," I confessed, raw and uncut. There was no happiness here, just the brutal truth that I was Hades , and she was my Persephone . I carried her out of the water and set her on the blanket, searching for something to say. Anything to make her fucking love me. All I ever wanted was for someone to fucking love me.
The sun bled out over the horizon, its dying light throwing shadows across the beach. I sat there, a fucking statue, watching it with Rosalind at my side. Her hand rested lightly on my thigh, her fingers playing and twisting my hair. Her eyes were bright as they tracked the fading day .
" Nice , ain't it?" I grunted, eyes never leaving the blood-orange sky. The water lapped at the shore, like whispers of all the shit I'd done, all the lives I'd ended. It should've been soothing, but it just reminded me that peace was a foreign fucking concept.
" Beautiful ," she murmured, her voice like some angel that had no right to work on me, but it did. " , can I ask you something?" Her head tilted up to mine, those dark eyes searching for something I wasn't sure I could give.
" Shoot ." My words were clipped, hands digging into the sand, a part of me ready to bolt. Talking wasn't my thing unless it was barking orders or spitting threats.
" Your childhood... what was it like?" She ventured into territory that had barbed wire all around it, and my gut twisted.
" Shit , Rosalind , you don't wanna know." I glanced at her, saw the softness in her face, the genuine fucking concern. It grated against the walls I'd built.
" Maybe I do. Maybe I want to understand you, . All of you." Her fingers brushed against my arm, tentative, like she was handling something lethal. She wasn't wrong.
" Understand me?" I scoffed, turning my gaze back to the water. " Ain't nothing to understand. Grew up tough, had to be tougher. The world's a bitch, and then you die."
" But there's more to you. I see it, even when you don't. Even ... even when you hurt me." Her hand stayed on my arm, warmth seeping through my skin.
" More ? Yeah , more darkness, more blood on my hands." A bitter laugh escaped me, and I shook my head. " You're looking for something that ain't there, doll."
" Everyone has something worth seeing, . Even you." Her insistence was a fucking thorn in my side, poking at something deep inside that wanted to break free, but I couldn't let it. Not without risking everything.
" Fine . You want the truth?" I turned to her fully, the harsh lines of my face catching the last rays of sunlight. " I grew up with fists instead of words, pain instead of comfort. That's the man you're sitting with. Don't try to paint it pretty."
She swallowed hard, her gaze unwavering. " I want to know more. I know it's not easy."
" Easy ?" I snorted. " Nothing about this is easy. You're living in a world of monsters, sweetheart, and I'm the worst of 'em all."
But she just looked at me, like she saw past the layers of shit to something else. Something I didn't even fucking recognize.
" Maybe ," she whispered, "but you're my monster."
There was a flicker of something in her eyes, a flame that refused to be snuffed out by the darkness surrounding us. It was enough to make me want to believe, even for a moment, that we could exist in the same space without destroying each other.
" Your monster," I repeated, the words rolling off my tongue like a promise, a fucking vow that I'd tear the world apart before I let it touch her.
I picked at the sand, grains sticking to my calloused fingers. " Old man thought he was making a soldier," I grunted, the words like glass in my throat. " Fucker jabbed needles into me, poison straight into the veins." I showed her the faded marks, a roadmap of survival etched into my skin. I'd covered them all with tattoos, but you could see the scars from where I tried to pull them out, the burning itching underneath my skin.
" Immunity ," I spat out. " Then taught me how to turn that shit lethal. For others."
Rosalind reached out, tracing the scars with a gentleness that made my insides twist. Her touch didn't belong on my tainted flesh. But fuck if I didn't crave it like a drowning man gasping for air.
" Days without food, locked in darkness," I cleared my throat, trying to stave away the sudden rush of emotion. " Said it'd make me a man." The hunger pangs from back then clawed at my gut, ghosts of a past never buried deep enough.
" Starved you?" she murmured, horror lighting her dark eyes, but she didn't pull away. Sunshine girl, finding warmth in the ice of my soul.
" Got the message when I found him with a kid. Bruised and bloody." My fist clenched, sand crushing beneath the force. " Put one between his eyes before he could even beg. One thing to fuck with your own kid, but an innocent? Not on my fucking watch. Cinder Crew's mine now. The demon in the dark. That's me." The declaration was a growl, ownership of a kingdom built on blood and fear.
" Monster ..." She breathed the word, not in disgust, but like it was laced with fucking reverence.
" Your monster." I echoed, a savage pride swelling in my chest.
Silence wrapped us, the sound of waves crashing a distant thunder. I risked a glance at her, the set of her jaw telling me she wasn't done digging for skeletons.
" Fuck it, there's more." My admission hung heavy between us. " Sofia , the cook? That's my ma." The secret tasted like bile. " Protected her by hiding her in plain sight. They all think she died with him."
" Your mother..." Rosalind whispered, the puzzle pieces clicking together in her gaze .
" Swear it stays between us. She's survived because the only ones that know are me and Marco ." The command left no room for argument, a threat woven into my voice. But she nodded, sealing the pact with a look that said she understood the weight of it all.
" Sworn ." Her promise was a lifeline thrown into the abyss that was my life. And for the first time, I grasped it, holding on to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, this little angel saw me as worth something. Her eyes, dark mirrors reflecting my fucked-up soul, held mine. Shit , she took it all—the poison, the pain, the past—and didn't flinch.
" You know… my father abused me too. He’d lock me in the basement until I was willing to comply with whatever it was he wanted me to do. Mostly , it was running coke or some other stupidly small task, but I didn’t want to do it. I know how you feel… I’ve wanted to kill mine for as long as I can remember. Thank you, ," she murmured, voice soft as her hand ran through my hair before cupping my face, her thumb stroking my cheek. She leaned in and gently kissed my cheek. " For trusting me.
I knew I wanted to kill Vitto for blowing up my warehouse, but now I wanted to make it painful. Thank fuck he didn’t hit the shipment Marco is dealing with. It’s got my specialty in it. While my anger ebbed, the gratitude in her words hit hard. I wasn't used to thanks; fear was my currency. But from her, it was like a damn lifeline. She made me wanna be a better man, and I didn't know how to feel about that. Good men died.
" Didn't do it for thanks," I grunted, feeling the pull deep in my gut, a craving that demanded more than words. My hands itched, body tensed. Wanted her—needed her.
Stood up, muscles coiling with purpose. The sky was black, but the lone streetlight spilled onto the grass a bit away. I moved toward her, the predator in me rising to the surface. She watched, still but with no fear in her gaze. Fuck , that made me want her even more.
Reached her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Lifted her, her body light as a fucking feather. Legs wrapped around me instinctively, her arms slung over my shoulders. Carried her away from the waves, away from the world, to a grassy spot hidden by shadows. I spanked her ass, three quick taps, just to warn her of what was coming.
" Put me down," she whispered against my neck, but there was no real protest, just a spark of excitement lighting her words.
" Shut up," I growled back, not rough, not kind. Just truth.
Laid her down on the soft earth and just looked at her. The beauty of the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes from laughing, her pert, pink lips, the way her neck curved to meet her collarbone. Breasts big enough to cup.
" Always so fucking beautiful," I muttered, more to myself than her. It was raw, this thing between us, dangerous as the poison I'd been raised on.
She lay beneath me, chest heaving, lips parted. No words needed; our bodies called to each other. And I was fluent in every fucking syllable.
I tore at the fabric of her bathing suit, my fingers hungry for the feel of her skin. The material gave way like paper against my strength, baring her to the cool beach air and to my ravenous gaze. She gasped, a sound that fueled my desire, raw and primal.
Flesh against flesh, we collided with the force of pent-up hunger and need. I pushed into her pussy hard, loving how she stretched around me. The groan on her lips. The way her head fell to the side, and her eyes rolled back. Yeah , my wife wanted to be dominated, but this entire fucking time I did it wrong. She wanted to feel safe, caged between my arms. I'd do it right this time. My hand branded her neck, leaving marks that would remind her she belonged to me, belonged with me. And damn it, she arched into every bruising touch, her body singing with the same wild craving that possessed mine .
" Fuck ," I grunted, taking her with no gentleness because this—us—wasn't about softness. It was about needing, claiming, and owning. Every thrust was a declaration, etching my name inside her, binding her soul to the darkness in mine. She moaned and writhed beneath me as I nipped her ear, replacing my hand around her neck with my lips, sucking and biting.
Her nails dug into my back, sharp and sweet, scoring trails of delicious pain. I relished it, the sting that kept me grounded to the moment, to her. Rosalind , my fucking sunshine in the midst of my endless night.
" More ," she panted, her voice broken by the waves of pleasure crashing over her. And I gave it, gave everything, my body driving into hers with relentless power.
" Mine ," I hissed, the word a vow, a promise of forever etched in the language of our bodies. Her legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper, and I lost it, surrendering to the storm of sensation, to the heat and the rightness of being buried inside her. I came with a grunt just as she pushed over the edge, her pussy clenching around me, milking me dry.
I collapsed next to her, our breaths coming hard and fast. My heart thundered like it was trying to escape the cage of my ribs, and I felt her own heart racing beneath my hand, pressed against the soft warmth of her breast .
" Love you," she murmured into the sex-laden air, her words wrapping around the raw edges of my soul. " Love all of you, , even the parts you think are too fucked up to be loved."
I held her tight, my chest a hollow shell cracked open by her confession. Love wasn't a usual word in my vocabulary, yet there it was, spilling from her lips, branding itself into my very marrow. I'd confessed it to her once before, but hearing it would never get old.
" Shit , Rosie . I love you, goddamnit, woman. I love you." I breathed out, the closest I'd come to laying bare the chaos inside me. She was light in my shadow, hope in my despair. And I'd be damned before I let anything snuff that out. Fuck , love didn't fit in the world I ruled with bloodied fists and iron will. But there it was, bleeding into me from the lips of a woman who’d seen the darkest parts of me. I wanted more.
My arms were a vise around her, every muscle corded tight, a silent war raging inside. Be better for her? The fuck did that even mean when all I knew was death and violence? Marco , that smooth-talking son of a bitch, he treated her like she was made of goddamn diamonds. Could share her with him if it kept that light in her eyes, but Jesus Christ , the thought of being replaced...
" You better not replace me with him. "
" Never ," she bit out, fierce-like, sealing it with a kiss so hard it felt like a brand. Her promise, a tattoo on my soul.
My hands roamed over her, claiming every inch as mine again, the monster in me growling at the mere thought of another man touching what belonged to me. Yet , if it had to be, at least it was a brother. One I trusted with my life. And hers. I half wondered if he'd gotten the items out of the warehouse, but decided I didn't care. I'd kill Vitto if he fucked up again. In fact, I was going to kill him anyway. And I'd do it with a smile, knowing I'd been balls deep inside the daughter he so carelessly sold for peace.
The world outside this beach could wait; I could go straight to hell for all I cared. Right now, there was just us—the mafia lord and his unwilling bride, bound by chains neither of us saw coming. But chains or not, she was here, and the darkness in me clung to her light like it was the last fucking lifeline in a storm-tossed sea.
And I , the notorious leader of the New Mexico Cinder Crew , king of all the shit no one else wanted to touch, held her like she was the first and last thing I'd ever need.