Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“You have arrived at your destination,” a robotic voice announces in the car.
I didn’t need to use the GPS to get here, but it seems to make Ava less nervous.
When the navigation system lit up, her fingers loosened their death grip on her seatbelt.
I know she has feelings for me, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still afraid.
The sick, demented creature inside of me delights in it.
It loves seeing her eyes widen in fear. It loves listening to her sharp intake of breath whenever I get close to her.
Walking around the car to the passenger side door, a smile peels across my face.
At exactly seven o’clock, my obedient girl was waiting at her front door for me.
She twisted her fingers in the hem of her dress, her eyes squarely locked on her boots.
Seeing her in clothes that I provided for her did something to me.
My chest inflated and my cock immediately stood at attention.
“Spin for me,” I said. Her eyes lit up as she twirled around.
Her boots thunked against the old porch beams and she nearly tripped over her own feet, but she didn’t stop.
She spun around like a little girl in her first princess costume.
At that moment, my heart sank, falling straight down to my stomach.
She never did get to be a princess. She wasn’t given plastic tiaras and fairy wands. She was given bruises and broken bones.
My jaw clenched and I made a promise to myself, a promise to her, even though she didn’t know it. I promised to make her feel like a princess every single day for the rest of our lives. My good little princess will want for nothing.
I pull open the passenger door and Ava looks up at me, causing my lungs to seize in my chest. Her doe eyes are lined with chocolate brown liner and her lids are dusted with gold.
A glossy pink is painted over her plump lips, making them look wet.
I nearly stumble over my own feet thinking about those lips, wet and dripping with saliva while she chokes on my cock.
I grab her hand and help her from the car, watching her cheeks flush into a rosy pink. Her eyes find mine and hunger flicks through her gaze. My little bird likes it when I’m sweet to her just as much as she likes it when I’m not.
She lifts her head in the direction of my house and sucks in a breath. “I didn’t really look at it before,” her eyes drift down to her feet, “the, uh, last time I was here.” Her head swivels left and right. “Is this all yours?”
I look around at the expanse of my property, nearly twenty acres of forest with my home at its center. “Ours,” I correct.
Ava rolls her eyes and she steps through the dried grass toward the front door, the crackle of leaves muffled beneath her boots. She doesn’t understand yet that everything I have is hers, or maybe she simply doesn’t believe me. She will someday; I’ll make sure of it.
“It’s gorgeous,” she gasps as she takes in the exterior of the house.
A grin spreads across my face as I stare at my home.
The exterior lights cast a soft, golden glow over its stone face.
Ashen concrete stretches into the sky, edged by large stone pillars.
Square planter boxes filled with small spruce trees line the front entrance, creating a private space on the large porch.
The house itself seems out of place for this area.
It looks like something built for the California countryside with its concrete walls and the floor to ceiling windows that cover the second floor.
Though it looks like it, the house wasn’t built to withstand hurricanes and wildfires.
Its reinforced walls and bulletproof windows were built to withstand people like me.
It was built for my protection, and now, Ava’s.
Ava steps beside me, her hand brushing against mine.
I wrap my fingers around hers, letting her warmth radiate through me.
I never realized how cold I was before I felt the heat of her body next to mine.
Had my fingers always been numb? Had they been frozen the first time she put her hand in mine?
My hand tightens around hers. My tendons lock into place as if even the parts of me that live beneath my skin need her.
She looks up at me, her eyes narrowed. “I thought you were taking me on a date?”
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into my chest. Her breath hitches as I drag my lips over the shell of her ear. “Do you really think a public setting would protect you from me?” I whisper against her skin. “Or maybe you were hoping I’d touch you in public?”
“I, uh, no,” she stammers, her ear heating beneath my lips as a flush darkens her skin.
I scrape my teeth against the spot below her ear that makes her squirm.
“I will never let anyone else see you like that, little bird.” She shivers as I run my hand up her thigh.
“No one will ever see the way you grind your hips when you’re desperate for release.
Or the way your face looks when you come. No one but me. Do you understand?”
She leans into me, pushing her ass against my growing erection as a soft moan falls from her lips. My hand snakes up her body. My palm trails upward over her stomach and between her breasts before stopping at her neck. My fingers tighten around her neck. “Tell me you understand,” I demand.
“I understand.” She closes her eyes and her fingers twitch against mine. “Master,” she whispers.
I place a kiss against her temple. “Good girl.”
I lead her into the house without saying any of the other reasons that I planned our date this way.
She doesn’t need to know that being in public with me could put her directly in the sight of a sniper’s rifle.
She doesn’t need to know that there’s a bounty on my head, nor that that bounty could extend to her if Bianca found out what she means to me.
Once I’ve killed Bianca, she’ll be safe.
Until Shawn gets me the information I need to finish the job, I can protect her.
“No flowers?” she asks as she hangs up her coat on the hook by the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be wooing me or something?”
“You don’t want flowers.” I chuckle. I point toward the wrapped package on the kitchen counter before beginning to pull things from the refrigerator and cabinets.
“Is that for me?” Her voice is a whisper, barely audible over the clank of pots and pans.
My head bobs up and down. Uncertainty slithers in my gut as I watch her peel the black ribbon from the package. Unease gnaws at my insides as she unfolds the parchment from around her gift. I watch her from the corner of my eyes, because I can’t seem to lift them from the countertop.
“Oh my God!” she squeals. “This is the newest romance book from Hannah Rafferty. I didn’t even know it was out yet.
” Her fingers softly brush over the cover before she opens the book and a shriek bubbles from her mouth.
“It’s a signed copy!” She hugs the book to her chest like it’s the greatest gift she’s ever received, and all the air I’d been holding in my lungs puffs out.
Suddenly, her arms are around me. She tucks her head beneath my chin and presses her face into my chest. “Thank you,” she says.
I melt like ice cream in the fucking sun. My arms mold around her body, pulling her closer. I press a kiss to the top of her head and inhale the delicate scent of her shampoo.
“I don’t have to woo you, little bird,” I sigh, “I know you.”
Her arms loosen from around me. She sits down at the counter and opens her book.
Some foreign emotion curdles in my gut as I move around the kitchen.
I pull two steaks from the refrigerator and pat them down with a paper towel.
My fingers fumble with the seasonings, leaving a pile of salt scattered across the counter.
My usual finesse is dulled, sloppy, like cuts from an unsharpened blade.
My knife slips through potatoes and carrots, creating grooves in the wooden cutting board beneath.
Thump, thump, thump.
Is that the sound of the knife or the furious beating of my heart?
Thump, thump, thump.
My eyes flick to the kitchen table. Fuck, why did I put out candles?
Women love candles, honey, Mom’s voice sings through my mind. They’re romantic. Oh, and when you have a date with a special girl, make sure you give her a little gift like flowers or chocolates.
Yes, that’s why. Women love candles. I wipe my hands down my pants and curse at the streaks of smeared potato starch marking the denim. What is wrong with me? What the fuck am I feeling right now?
Just remember, it’s normal to be nervous on your first date, Mom whispers in my head.
Is that what this is? I’ve faced off against mobsters.
Bombs have gone off mere feet from my body.
I’ve been shot at by ten men at the same damn time.
Through all of that, I never felt nervous.
But here and now, with my woman in my kitchen, I’m drowning.
* * *
A trickle of butter dribbles from Ava’s mouth.
I watch its descent down her lower lip before her tongue darts out to catch it.
I imagine wiping it from her lips with my tongue and inwardly curse myself for not making her sit in my lap.
My eyes roll up her face, tracing the delicate curve of her nose and the soft line of her cheekbones.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks.
I nod, immediately popping a piece of steak into my mouth.
She smiles around a mouthful of mashed potatoes and makes a sinful noise that has my dick hardening under the table.
She stabs her fork into a piece of steak and brings it to her plush lips.
They part around it and her eyes close as the meat touches her tongue.
I never thought I’d be envious of a piece of cutlery, but as I watch her suck the juice from her fork, I would kill to be it.
“Tell me about what you're reading,” I say.
“What?” Her eyes pop open a little wider than normal.
“Tell me about what you’re reading for work this week.”
“You,” she hesitates, sucking her lip into her mouth, “you want to hear about my work? About the books?”
“Yeah, baby, I want to hear about the books.” I chuckle.
Ava launches into a story about a battle between two warring clans of werewolves.
Pure joy sparkles in her irises as she tells me the story of fated mates torn apart by a centuries old feud.
As she talks, I carry our dishes to the sink, watching her toes tap furiously under the table like she can’t contain her excitement.
Her hands flail wildly around her as she describes the way a magical mate bond sparked to life inside the hearts of two warriors who met on the battlefield.
I place a plate of strawberry cheesecake in front of her and her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
She scoops a piece onto her spoon and dips it into her mouth.
She lets out a sinful groan and shovels another spoonful between her lips.
I watch her pink tongue pop out and lick the creamy cake from the spoon.
A catalog begins to form in my mind of the gags I’ll buy her that will force her to keep that tongue out for as long as she wears one.
I imagine the way she’ll beg when she’s only able to loosely form words.
The way that her saliva will drip over her pouty lips as she whimpers in need.
“Gray?” Her voice parts the haze in my mind.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“What is this?” she asks, her voice quivering. “This thing between us?”
“This is the beginning,” I say.
She huffs out a breath. “Of what?”
“Of us, of our life together.”
She lets her spoon drop to the plate. She watches it land with her eyebrows pulling together.
“I found you, little bird. I found the only person in this world that means something to me.” I grip the edge of my chair, feeling the wood splinter under my fingernails. “And I won’t let you go. I can’t let you go because I can’t fucking breathe without you.”
Her eyes rocket upward to meet mine, sparkling with unshed tears.
“After my mom died, after I became a killer, I wasn’t capable of love. I’m not built for it. But with you, everything is different. I’m different.” I swallow back the dryness in my mouth. My heartbeat pounds in my ears so loudly that I can barely hear myself speak.
“I love you, Ava.”