Chapter 8 – Cristiano
Anew ghoulish mask in hand, I crept along the shoveled path of the Loring’s backyard. I wasn’t planning to see Nicky tonight. I knew that I was in no shape to play nice after a fight. But seeing her there lit a raging inferno in my chest.
I had to see her.
The bevy of sponsors flocked into the locker room, along with some of the VIP fans. I kept expecting her to be one of them, but when she never appeared, I ground my teeth and dealt with the horde of gawkers.
Midnight came and went, and now I embraced the silence of the night. My breath plumed around me as I picked her lock with ease. The naughty little thing still hadn’t set the home alarm system. Which I took as an invitation to enter.
Go easy on her, my inner voice of reason ordered the beast pacing in my chest.
The urge to fuck came hand-in-hand with the drive to fight. In the past, I learned I wasn’t a good bed fellow to any partner ludicrous enough to join me post-match. So I stayed away from the ring-bunnies, avoiding post-fight coitus like a disease.
Tonight was different.
My angel came to me.
One look, one breathless heartbeat, and I knew. Nicky recognized the monster who hid behind the masks. I slid the screaming white and black ghost mask over my face as I shut her door behind me. Not prone to religion, I sent up a silent plea that I had it in me to give Nicky everything she deserved.
Because sooner or later, the mask was coming off, and the sweet angel was going to learn exactly what it meant to be mine.
I’m never letting her go.
I just hoped like hell that she wanted me. But I pushed aside that fear for the present moment and went to convince her that the masked monster and the man behind it were one and the same.
Walking across the kitchen, I didn’t sense the danger until it was too late. The snare cinched around my feet, and with a bellow, I toppled to the floor.
“Got you!” Nicky crowed with triumph from somewhere above me.
“Ma che cazzo fai!” I twisted around, my broken rib screaming in protest. From the island, something metal scraped against the marble. I put my hands up just in time to catch the full weight of the net as it dropped on me.
That sucker was heavy.
Grunting and growling, I sounded exactly like a wild beast caught in the snare. Which was exactly how a painter would depict the scene on canvas.
The huntress, with a cry of triumph, leapt from the island.
I clawed and thrashed, twisting and making the noose on my ankles pull tighter.
Nicky moved nimbly around me. Her quick, decisive movements were a thing of beauty.
She reached into the writhing mess, plucked my wrist from under the net, and clamped a vise around my flesh.
I reared.
Shock and awe saturated my blood.
That gave her the precious few seconds to tug my other hand free of the net. By the time I realized what she’d done, I was bound—
And completely at her mercy.
Sitting back on her haunches, Nicky grinned down at me. “Well, would you look at that?” she tutted. “I caught Santa Claus.”
The scent of pine and sin floated past the mask and filled my lungs. I reached for the minion, but my hands wouldn’t move far past my head.
“Don’t tremble,” she teased. “You’re the one who put my name on the naughty list—you made the right choice.”
“I’m not trembling,” I panted. “This weighs a fuck ton.”
Nicky tsked. She pulled a ratchet strap, and my arms spread wide. When I was about to yell in protest, my ribs on fire, she bent and flicked the binding on my legs, loosening it a fraction.
I struggled to sit, the net falling off my chest and allowing air to fill my lungs.
The wicked little thing wasn’t going easy. She pulled the strap again so my arms spread taut to the side. Only when I couldn’t move them did she approach.
“I like seeing you at my mercy, monster,” she breathed, tugging the net to the side. It hit the floor with a jangle, the chains clinking against the hardwood floors. “Do you know how many children try and fail to trap Kris Kringle every year?”
Breathing hard, I tried to yank the straps free. Damn…she was good.
“You just made the naughty list for life, angel,” I growled.
Nicky straddled my lap. “Poor me.”
She looped her arms around my neck, her body rocking against mine. Just like that, the aches and pains from the beating I took in the ring ebbed as a rushing heat flooded my body.
“I caught my own Christmas monster—and I don’t plan to let you go.”
I jerked against the bindings. “You can’t keep a monster trapped forever, angel.”
“Maybe.” She leaned close to my ear and whispered through the fabric of the mask. “You’ve been playing a fun game, monster, but tonight, I’ll show you I’m worse.”
My dick pulsed greedily between my legs.
Nicky felt it. She ground down, rubbing herself against me before shooting to her feet.
I groaned and shook the straps. “You’d better turn me loose, or I’ll make you regret this.”
She was rummaging around behind me. The anticipation and thrill of the unknown was a heady intoxication.
“I’ll take that chance,” she mused, coming around to this side of the kitchen again.
A lighter flicked in her fingers as she dipped it along several candles waiting on the back counter.
Flames sprang to life. They danced in fiendish delight as they defied the shadows.
Bringing one down to the ground, Nicky sat on my thighs.
She raised her hand, and a steak knife glinted in her fist.
She stroked the bulge in my pants, squeezing my cock as she tipped her head back and forth, mimicking the way I’d played with her the other night.
Fuck me—I’d never been more turned on.
The sight of that small, pointy blade and the feel of her fingers stroking my dick should have terrified me. I should have been limp, but there was no self-preservation instinct to shrivel up under her threat.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Didn’t expect the prey to bite back?”
“Why don’t you show me your teeth, baby,” I growled. “Or are you all talk?”
Nicky scoffed. Grabbing a handful of my shirt, she tugged the material away from my skin. With a vicious flick of her wrist, she stabbed the shirt and tore the knife through the black fabric. Opened and bare, she gazed down hungrily at my body.
“Looks like Santa’s the one getting wrapped tonight,” she breathed.
Fucking yes, angel, do your worst.