20. Vlad
20
VLAD
I 'm about to take her hand off me, but Sisi beats me to it, roughly grabbing her wrist and bending it.
"No, thank you." She fakes a wide smile, getting to her feet and putting herself between me and the woman.
Well, isn't this interesting...
"I didn't ask you ," the woman replies smugly before turning to me. "I didn't know bitches could talk back," she continues, looking Sisi up and down in distaste, and it takes me a moment to realize that biker babes should be submissive.
Alas, I have failed in choosing this disguise, since Sisi is anything but submissive.
"Oh, this one can," Sisi replies, tightening her hold on the woman's wrist and twisting it. She whimpers in pain, but she doesn't seem to give up as she aims her other hand toward Sisi's hair.
I'm thinking of intervening, but one look from Sisi and I put my hands up, letting her do her thing. So I just lean back and watch the show.
Sisi is quick to parry the woman's hand, wrapping her fingers around her nape and bringing her head into the bar table. A resounding thud, and everyone suddenly fixates their gazes on the ongoing match.
I watch with pleasure as Sisi continues to bang the woman's head on the table until blood starts pouring out of her face.
Fuck, if this doesn't make me even harder.
It's interesting that no one intervenes to help the woman, considering she's an employee here. No, instead everyone is cheering for Sisi as she's ruining the woman's face.
Her smile twisted at the corners; she's got a look of pure satisfaction as she wreaks even more havoc on the woman's body. It's only when she goes limp in her arms that she lets go, the woman crumbling to the floor, unmoving.
Sisi is unbothered as she steps over her body and comes to my side.
"She was right, you know, you should be submissive," I add sarcastically, and before I know it, her punch shoots out, her knuckles grazing my cheek.
"You let her touch you," she hisses at me, and I blink twice, surprised at her outburst.
"I did?" I ask slowly, weirdly turned on by this side of her.
"You let her fucking touch you." She jabs her finger in my chest, aggression rolling off her as she comes onto me.
My eyes move over her body, the way her chest rises and falls rapidly, her throat contracting and forming a hollow just above her collarbone.
"Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!" The chants are getting louder as more people surround us, all interested in the ongoing spectacle. "Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!"
Not one to miss a dramatic exit, I quickly lift Sisi off her feet, throwing her over my shoulder, and signaling an employee to show us to our lounge.
A fly on the wall... Well, mission accomplished.
T he room is small but private, with a round couch and a table in the middle. I nod to the staff and close the door, finally dropping Sisi to the ground.
"You," she seethes at me, and it's the first time I'm seeing her like this.
And I fucking love it.
She wastes no time in pushing me down on the couch, climbing on top of me, her hands fisted in the material of my shirt.
Her outburst amuses and delights me at the same time, so I just lay back and let her dish at me whatever she wants.
"You wanted a lap dance?" she asks, her expression serious and oh, so bloodthirsty. My cock twitches in my pants, the bastard fucking loving this side of her.
"If I remember correctly, I did not even react to her suggestion," I point out, trying to keep a straight face. But she's not having it.
Stepping away from me, she takes the cut and her shirt off, remaining only in her bra. That luscious body of hers is going to give me a heart attack in the future.
"Goddamn," I whisper, my eyes honing in on her tits.
"You'll have a lap dance," she tells me, moving around in a sensuous manner, her tits jiggling as she climbs up on me ever so slowly.
I swallow. Hard.
"Do you even know how to give a lap dance?" I ask her, quirking a smile.
"Can't be that hard," she mumbles under her breath. Her expression immediately changes as she seductively bats her eyelashes at me, brushing her chest against mine as she blows hot air on my neck.
Using her hands, she caresses my arms, undulating her ass until it glides enticingly over my dick. My eyes are already glazed, my focus solely on this temptress in front of me that seems to have a possessive streak.
Snaking my arm around her waist, I bring her flush against my chest, stopping her movements. She looks at me suspiciously as I grab her hand and put it between us.
"Feel this, Hell Girl," I say, pressing her hand on my erection, so she can see just how much she affects me. "This is only for you. I only ever get hard for you."
I pull her closer to me, my forehead resting on top of hers.
"Get it through that pretty skull of yours that I'm not going to look at another woman. Ever ."
"Good. Otherwise, I'd be forced to do something I wouldn't like," she says, her eyes still shooting daggers at me.
"What?" I rasp, the mere feel of her against me driving me insane.
"Kill you," she whispers, her hands caressing my chest until she stops at the waistline of my pants. "I'd cut your dick off, then kill you," she continues, her fingers tracing the outline of my hard cock through my pants.
"Is that so?" I ask, lust simmering in my blood. Fuck me, but why does she have to be so hot while saying she'd cut my dick off?
"Yes, and I'd be very sad." She pouts, her tongue sneaking out and giving my cheek a long lick. "But maybe I'd keep it as a souvenir," she breathes against my face, and I just about combust from that alone.
"It's yours," I groan when she slowly lowers my zipper, her hands moving past the waistline of my boxers.
She's tantalizingly slow, and my breath stops when she puts her hand on me.
By Jove, this is torture.
For a moment, I have to mentally take a break, doing my best not to bust a nut this very second.
"Hmm." She makes a sound deep in her throat, her palm opening over my shaft as she caresses me from tip to base.
My eyes flutter closed, the feel of her small hand over my cock making me shudder.
"I read about big dick energy online," she says, her voice low and husky.
"You did?" I ask with a strangled moan.
I know she did. Hell, I know her entire search history by heart. I even know that my sinful nun has been reading naughty books, and she's clearly been taking notes to please me.
Not that I'm one to talk, since I've been doing the same .
"Mmm." She leans in to lick my ear. "It fits," she whispers as she tightens her hold over me, and I groan out loud.
Her hand is already moving up and down my shaft, her thumb swiping over the head of my cock as she uses the pre-cum to lubricate her movements.
Yes, she's definitely been taking notes.
"You're killing me, Hell Girl," I grab her by the throat, keeping her face glued to mine. "You're fucking killing me."
"Not yet," she replies cheekily.
"Is this what they teach you at the nunnery? How to drive men insane? Because, fuck, you're succeeding." I grit my teeth as she continues to put those dainty hands of hers to use.
Her mouth pulls up in a smile, and she bites her lip in the process.
"Well, technically we are the brides of Christ..." She trails off suggestively, and I just about lose it.
Fuck, am I jealous of a fictional prophet?
But the thought of anyone, even a saint, touching or even looking at Sisi has me going crazy.
I'm barely in control as it is, letting her take the reins and willing myself not to bend her over and fuck her like an animal — fast and dirty until she renounces her religion and proclaims me her new god.
And as her hand continues to torture me, the movements increasingly faster, I can only take her mouth in a bruising kiss, our tongues fighting, our mouths mashing together. I revel in the savageness that seems to mirror my own.
My hand lodged in her scalp, I hold her close to me as I nibble and bite at her, wanting to permanently mark her as mine.
"Fuck," I curse as she continues to stroke me.
Out of nowhere, she shoves my hand aside, getting on her knees and opening her mouth to take my cock inside. Her lips stretch across the head as she licks and kisses it, swirling her tongue on the underside like a fucking pro.
The warmth of her mouth as she envelops more of my cock almost makes me black out, the new sensation exhilarating.
But only because it's her.
She keeps sucking me deep into her mouth, her lips effortlessly gliding over my shaft as she peppers kisses all over it. Her hand is still working me up and down, using her spit to get my entire length nice and wet.
Fuck!
I reach out with my hand and caress her cheek, holding her hair to the side as she sucks my cock like she should have been worshiping Jesus.
"You're such a bad nun," I rasp, my eyes alternating between closed and open.
She smiles with my cock in her mouth, and hell if I've ever seen a prettier picture. Batting her eyelashes at me, she takes me deeper, gagging on my length until she's choking.
The way she's looking at me, with her seductive gaze wrapped in innocence, has me close to the edge.
She palms my balls, slowly massaging them. Lifting my cock with one hand as she licks her way down, enclosing her lips over my balls and sucking them into her mouth.
"Sisi." My voice sounds foreign to my ears as she gently squeezes my balls in her mouth before leaving a trail of spit all over my length.
How is she fucking real?
She's a temptress come down to lure me into sin—not that I wasn't already knee-deep in it. But fuck if I'm not thankful she's been hidden away this whole time. Because otherwise, I would have had to kill my way through the entire city to make her mine.
Someone with Sisi's beauty and intelligence would have attracted all kinds of attention, and she would have had her pick of men.
Shit, but I don't even know if she would have given me the time of day if I hadn't gotten to her first. And that thought makes me still.
I'll never let her go.
She's saddled with me now, and I'm such a possessive bastard that no other man will ever even graze her hand. No, all her touches are strictly reserved for me. All her smiles and her seductive glances.
Everything.
Her hands are stroking me up and down, her mouth sucking on the head, her eyes fixed on me. She swirls her tongue all around the tip, letting more saliva dribble down my length and using it for added friction.
She's so beautiful I can barely breathe. And when she gives me one last suck, those plump lips wrapped around my cock, in what I can only describe as a warm, wet heaven, I know I can't last anymore.
"I'm coming," I warn her, feeling a tingling down my spine as my balls contract. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn't.
She keeps on working my cock until my cum shoots into her waiting mouth. She doesn't stop until I'm wholly spent, swallowing every last bit of my release.
With a wicked smile, she undulates her body as she climbs up again, her legs on both sides of mine as she's straddling me.
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," she whispers naughtily in my ear.
"What is your sin?" I find myself asking.
"I've been very, very bad," she sighs.
"How so?" My hand goes to her long hair and I pick up a strand, bringing it to my nose, inhaling deeply.
"I sucked cock... and I liked it," she admits shyly.
"You did? That's very, very bad indeed," I tell her, my hand trailing down her back until I'm palming her ass. "You might be going to hell."
She feigns a horrified expression as her eyes widen, her mouth parting. "Oh, no!" she exclaims.
"But it's okay," she amends saucily. "I'll have company." She winks at me.
Damn it all, but I'm never letting this woman go.
With a quick snap of a button, I have her pants opened, my hand pushing her panties to the side to find her soaking wet.
"You're fire, Hell Girl." I look her in the eye, my fingers already caressing her pussy before settling on her clit. "Why don't you say a prayer so I can take you to heaven?" I nuzzle my face in the crook of her neck, her breathing harsh as she grinds herself on my fingers.
"Can you do that?" I ask, and she gasps when I enter her, using her juices to ease my way in.
"Our father, who art in heaven," she starts, pausing as I thrust into her, burying two fingers to the hilt, "hallowed be..." she moans when I use my thumb to flick her clit, "Thy name." She clears her throat, her walls contracting around me. She's so fucking tight, her pussy greedily grasping onto my fingers as I stroke her deep. "Thy kingdom come..." She trails off on a long whimper as I curl my digits inside of her, finding her G-spot.
"Please make me come," she breathes hard, abandoning the prayer and lowering herself on my hand as she seeks her release.
For a moment I want to keep teasing her, enjoying her little mewling and the way she's putty in my arms. But one look in her eyes and I cannot help myself as I focus my attention on her clit until she's screaming my name.
"I didn't realize what a jealous little thing you were," I comment as she peers at me through her lashes. She's laying on my chest, spent and purring in satisfaction as I move my hand up and down her arms in a light caress.
She gives me a sheepish smile.
"I take my possessions seriously," she adds, yawning slightly.
"Is that what I am for you?" I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.
"Mmm," she burrows her face into my chest, "you're mine," she says, tracing her name on my skin with her fingers.
I've never belonged to anyone before, and the prospect of being hers fills me with an unprecedented warmth.
"I..." I start, but I'm interrupted by a knock on the door.
Quickly helping her dress, I right my own clothes as I open the door.
"The entertainment is about to begin," an employee informs me, and I give him a nod.
"Ready?" I turn toward Sisi, and she comes to my side, lacing her fingers through mine.
"Let's do this," she whispers, kissing my cheek.
The employee scans his finger on a steel door in the back of the club, motioning us to follow him. We're led down a dark corridor until we reach a set of stairs. As we start descending toward the basement, noises begin attacking my ears. The music is blasting, but it's almost drowned out by collective voices yelling, cheering and cursing. For a moment, I am confused, since this is merely supposed to be an auction.
But as we step onto the platform, the entire basement spreading in front of us, I realize why Enzo had said their entertainment is varied.
The basement had been turned into a fighting arena. A big stage stretches in the middle of the room, with people surrounding it as they cheer on, some swinging their auction paddles around while yelling exorbitant amounts.
As the employee shows us to a corner, he gives me an auction paddle with the number sixty-four on it. He doesn't even glance at Sisi as he leaves, and I'm once more reminded that in these places women are little more than chattel.
She doesn't seem to notice the affront, her eyes glued to the stage as one man climbs up, a microphone in his hand.
"Is everyone ready for tonight?" he calls out, people yelling yes at him. Introducing himself as Mauro, he goes on to give a brief introduction of what's up for tonight.
I half-listen to him, my eyes focused on my surroundings as I take in everyone, looking for familiar faces. Off the bat I see people I'd been following for years, all elbows deep in human trafficking.
Now, who could be Miles' broker...
I somehow don't doubt that Mr. Petrovic must have worked for him at some point, or any other influential person, since someone must have sent those people to look for him. I'd looked into their backgrounds trying to tie them to someone in Mr. Petrovic's inner circle, but I hadn't gotten any hits on that. Too bad Mr. Petrovic ended up dead not long after he'd divulged Miles' name, since I have no doubt he had more information than he'd imparted.
"Are they..." Sisi tugs my hand as she nods toward the stage. Two men, looking more like killing machines than anything, walk on the stage.
"On the right we have Seth, hailing straight from the pyramids. With a total of fifty kills under his belt, he is yet undefeated in the ring. He's been without a master for the past two months, so place your bets gentlemen. We're going to have an interesting show."
The host introduces one of the men, a hulking beast of at least seven feet and a half. His entire body is filled with scars, one of his eyes replaced with a glass one.
"Damn, that must be tough," I mutter.
"Why?" Sisi leans into me.
"That's a hell of a disadvantage for a fighter to have. You need your eyes for coordination, but also for peripheral view. If he's managed so many wins with only one eye..." I whistle in admiration.
"Next up is Drew, our resident champion. Mr. Meester has allowed us to borrow him for yet another entertaining evening. Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Meester." The host motions to one of the men at the balconies who waves smugly at the crowd.
"Who is he?" Sisi asks.
"A crime lord, more or less," I say with half a smile.
I had expected to see people I know here, since most of the criminal world has no scruples, certainly not when it comes to the easiest and cheapest form of exploitation—human labor and sexuality. But I certainly had not expected to see Petro Meester here.
And now it's imperative he doesn't notice me.
"Let's hope we don't get his attention," I tell Sisi, giving her a quick rundown of my history with the man.
A Ukrainian immigrant, he'd been under my father's wing for a long time before branching out and building his own empire. All had been fine and dandy, until Misha had killed father, and then I'd killed Misha.
Petro had approached me with a potential alliance with his daughter, which I'd promptly refused. He'd taken it personally, and we've butted heads on more than one occasion since then, but mainly in business. I don't know why he'd been so offended by my refusal, but every time I was about to close a deal, he'd intervene to try to stop it.
"His pettiness knows no bounds," I add drily.
I'd never gone out of my way to look into him, but last I knew, he was in the meth trade. Interesting that he's leveled up, and it makes me wonder if he has any connection with Jimenez and the Gallaghers.
"Drew is Mr. Meester's favorite, and he has a total of two hundred fifty-four kills under his belt. Quite a discrepancy, no?" the host asks the public, and everyone is quick to shout their predictions. That Drew will finish Seth off.
"What's the point of all this?" Sisi asks, looking intrigued.
"He's showing off, no doubt," I explain. Knowing Petro's hubris, that's exactly why he would lend his champion to one of these fights. "Other than that, I guess there must be a bidding on the winner, should Seth win instead of Drew."
"What do you think? Who will win?"
I look closely at the two men. Their physiques are closely matched, but logically speaking, Drew has more experience and should be the favored one in this battle.
"Seth," I say, narrowing my eyes at the stage.
"What? Really? Why? He has fifty kills versus two hundred and fifty-four kills. How can he stand a chance?"
"We'll see," I add, curious about the outcome too.
But while the two fighters look evenly matched in physical strength, Seth has something Drew does not — the desire to live. Drew's many victories must have stroked his ego, because I can see the smugness in his gaze as he looks down on Seth.
After a lengthy monologue by the host, the gong is hit, the fight officially starting.
Drew is the first one to advance, immediately taking the offensive. Seth, on the other hand, skirts around the stage, avoiding a direct confrontation. Instead, his good eye is focused on Drew's movements, cataloguing every step and how those steps are done.
Interesting.
More dancing around each other, and Drew grows impatient, just like the crowd. And out of that impatience, the first mistake is born. Drew jumps on Seth, throwing his entire weight forward, no doubt counting on tackling Seth to the ground. Instead, Seth stays put until Drew is but a millimeter away from him, after which he promptly moves away with incredible speed for someone his size.
He places his body diagonally, rooting his lower half on the ground while he twists his torso to the right. Holding one foot down, he uses the other to knee his adversary in the gut, the combined momentum of Drew's jump plus the strength behind Seth's kick magnifying the pain. Drew winces, the air knocked out of him, and he takes a second to stabilize himself.
A second too much, because Seth finally unleashes his true potential, barreling into Drew with his fists. He concentrates on his head, landing blow after blow at his temples until Drew can barely stand still.
One more punch, and Drew looks dazedly at the crowd before his knees buckle and he hits the floor.
"Wow..." Sisi breathes, and I share the feeling.
Impressive. Very impressive.
The entire room is silent as they are probably mourning the loss of their bets, and I sneak a glance at Mr. Meester who is looking at the stage as if he can't believe what just happened.
As I predicted, the host blunders through a small speech, eventually putting Seth up for bidding.
"Starting price is determined by Mr. Meester, since it is his loss," the host says, but Mr. Meester is already gone from his balcony, no doubt the disappointment too great for his fragile ego.
My lips pull up in a smile as the host settles on a random amount, with multiple people already trying to up the previous bid.
"Ten." I raise my paddle, unable to help myself.
It's like everything stops as the host looks at me askance, rolling his eyes no doubt at my current attire.
"I'm sorry Sir, but we're talking millions here, not thousands," he says almost exasperated.
"Ten million," I agree, shrugging.
Sisi is looking at me as if I'd grown a second head, while the entire room seems to be awfully quiet at my pronouncement.
"Right, so... ten million once, ten million twice..." Not a soul challenges the amount, so the host is obligated to declare me the winning bid.
"What are you doing with a fighter?" Sisi asks in shock, "A ten million dollar fighter?"
"What could I do? Make him fight, of course." I give her a brilliant smile .
Seeing his skills firsthand solidified it for me. He's the perfect candidate. Because at some point in the future, he will need to fight. Intriguing, though. Seth might just be the warrior drawn on my back manifested into reality.
The one who will save the world from me.